Movie Comparison/Dissection #1: Love?

At the start of this Thanksgiving break I saw two movies - one that I'd heard a lot of and mostly enjoyed, and one that I hadn't heard too much of and really loved. They both were primarily romantic, and both had some great kisses. They're both kind of fairy tales, and they both end happily. And both movies have some flawed perspectives on love. Let me explain.

The first, you might have guessed, was Twilight, the ultimate teen fangirl dream film. I made sure to know what I was getting myself into when I saw this one. Yes, I've read all the books, and yes I enjoyed the read. (Cotton-candy romantic entertainment. I enjoyed Meyer's other book The Host even more.) And I read all the reviews I could find before seeing the film, so I really felt prepared for what I found: Cheese. Baseball-playing vampire cheese. And guess what? I was totally fine with it. Like I said, I mostly enjoyed it. There's a lot of nitpicky stuff I could go into, but I'd rather not. It was not a bad way to spend two hours and eight fifty.

The next night I went to Blockbuster with my cousins and saw the film Penelope, which my cousin Brad insisted on pronouncing in a way that rhymes with "antelope." He didn't really feel like watching it, actually, especially judging by the flowery, almost sappy looking DVD cover. Well, we did watch it, and it shattered my expectations. Yes, it was a fairy-tale-like romance where a girl is cursed with a pig-like face and only when someone "of her own kind" (that is, blue-blooded rich) loves her will she be turned beautiful. BUT! It doesn't go about it in the way you would expect. In fact, the movie did things in such unexpected ways I couldn't even turn away. In many movies you count the "wow!" moments; in this one even Brad was always saying "What?!?" instead. It was very surprising, quirky and different...but in a delightfully satisifying way. And while the ending might have been an obvious one, I really enjoyed how it got there.

But I didn't just want to review these movies, I wanted to look through a feminist perspective at the relationships they portray. Don't get mad - I'm not saying all guys are like this. I'm just saying this is one way it can be interpreted. Get ready for it.

Penelope

In Penelope her suitors come talk to her through a one-way mirror, until she comes right out and shows them her face. They either run away screaming or crash themselves out through the window to get away from her hideousness. Finally, though, there's one who happens to not see when she comes out, and when the rest have run away, he stays and talks to her through the glass. He comes back day after day and they get to know each other, have a chess game, even play music together while in separate rooms.

And I thought, isn't that just the way this guy would love to have it? It's like a self-absorbed-man's dream relationship: he only has to talk to himself! Sure, they have a conversation, but he's not really with her, is he? He's in a room with another version of himself. It's a very selfish way to look at a relationship, but sometimes that's all that's wanted: another You. Who did he really fall in love with? In that room he may be talking to her, but it's really all about HIM.

Twilight

Once I started thinking about it. I realized Twilight had a similar theme. And I admit, I didn't notice it myself: I read in other reviews that Edward never tells Bella she's beautiful. She, however, tells him he's perfect. Setting aside the book version, since it does allow for the relationship to be a bit more complicated, in the movie at least it seems that Edward and Bella aren't in love with each other. They're just in love with how much he's in love with her.

In the book it felt (slightly) less creepy, but the movie made it glaringly obvious that Edward is more obsessed with how much he desires her than with her, herself. Girls find it attractive to be wanted so badly: after all, everyone wants to be loved. But that's really the only thing holding them together. Again, it's not about her. He's not focused on Bella as much as he is focused on how much he loves her. So really, he's only focused on himself. Hey, even Bella herself is so focused on him she doesn't even take care of herself. So how is this good for her??

So, after seeing these two movies back to back, it really seemed like they would come out on the worse end when examined from a feminist perspective. It's not even about the girl. Most of the focus is on the guy - on his love, fascination, and obsession. It's strange, too, since Twilight was written, and both movies were directed, by women.

Other thought to ponder: what Marian the librarian sings in "The Music Man" that my stake performed this month. She wants a man "who is more interested in me than he is in himself, and more interested in 'us' than he is in me." Hmmm...

Also, I watched (an incredible Masterpiece Theater version of the classic novel) Jane Eyre tonight, and that's one that really gets you thinking. There are, of course, encyclopedias written about Mr Rochester and Jane, but I specifically noticed where he deliberately doesn't tell her that he's decided to marry her, and talks about the marriage preparations and plans directly to her, letting her think that he's going to be marrying someone else! So manipulative. Fun for him, I suppose, but HOW is that good for Jane, at all?

OK, now for the end disclaimer: No, I am not really as bitter as all this makes me seem. I was merely intrigued by the juxtaposition of these movies and wished to share my comments, as I hope you will. I really did enjoy the movies! And I really, really do enjoy dissecting them afterward!

Just something I was thinking about after church today.

One teaching of the Church I belong to is that of "opposition in all things." It basically means that if we never had bad things happen to us, we would never learn to appreciate the good.

Today I was thinking about that and flipped it around in my mind: Maybe, if we never had good things happen to us, we would never realize that our lives were so bad!

Then I thought, maybe that's what it's like, this life on earth. We survive by focusing on the relatively good things, yes, but in reality... life sucks. It's hard, and bad things happen all the time. I mean, compared to the next life? Yes. I believe that the paradise that awaits us when we die, and then the glorified kingdoms of heaven that follow after we are judged, are so much more brilliant and amazing and wonderful for us to even comprehend.

But the very fact that we can't comprehend it helps us to not realize that our lives are so hard down here!

So I'm glad God hasn't told us every little thing about life in the eternities that follows this world. Because then we'd want it so badly no one would want to stay down here. And we need to use our time to experience life on earth, first. Later we can go live with Him.

Anyway, just a thought I wanted to share, because I have a blog and I can. :)

Strange though it may sound, I'm even grateful for the Holocaust

I'm not going to apologize for getting "preachy" in this blog - today, it's supposed to be. I'm putting up the talk I gave in church this morning on Gratitude. Mostly because, I liked it. I'm always glad when I get asked to speak in church - just another chance to publicly say that I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the church of God!

If you really knew me, you would know I’m doing my student teaching right now. One of the reasons I’ve gone into teaching is that (and if you really knew me you would know this) I have a lot to say to a listening audience. So teaching is great because you have literally a captive audience. They can’t leave! Still, even though they can’t leave, they don’t always choose to listen. So I found that one way to get 8th graders’ attention is to talk about real things – important, serious issues. Which works perfectly as we’re reading “The Diary of Anne Frank,” we can talk about the Holocaust. That shuts them up. It never fails to bring a kind of respectful silence into the room. It’s great.

Speaking of the Holocaust, I have a mission story for you. (And, um, that doesn’t mean what it sounds like, either.) So in Chile, no matter where you live, no matter how clean you were, you would at some point get fleas. Fleas especially love gringo blood, so I inevitably got fleas in every sector I worked in. As in, my arm looked like I had the measles, just covered with tiny red bites. We’d be teaching lessons and I’d be unconsciously scratching here, there, arms, legs. And sure, they have stuff you can wash your clothes in and spray on your bedding to make them die, but all you have to do was visit someone’s house, or just go outside and walk past a dog and you get more. It didn’t really bother me until I started training and my new companion had a terrible problem with fleas – pulgas, we call them. I seriously think she was allergic or something, especially at first. Or maybe she was just really gringa. But she had them everywhere.

So we were in La Ligua, the sector farthest away from our zone leaders, and we would often stay overnight with another companionship of sisters to be there for early-morning zone meetings and activities. One time we were getting ready for bed and my companion and another sister were bemoaning their plethora of flea bites. So I turned to my companion and told her this story:

I don’t know if any of you have read the book “The Hiding Place” by Corrie Ten Boom, but she was a Christian woman who was taken with her sister Betsie to a concentration camp in WWII. She wasn’t Jewish, so I can’t really remember why she was put in there, but I guess if the Nazis hate you then, in you go. They went through exactly what you would expect: horrible conditions, near-starvation, daily backbreaking labor. One day they were marched to a new barracks. They had to sleep in a small bed shared with 9 women. When they got to bed that first night, she said:

"The deck above us was too close to let us sit up. We lay back, struggling against the nausea that swept over us from the reeking straw...Suddenly I sat up, striking my head on the cross-slats above. Something had pinched my leg.

"'Fleas!' I cried. 'Betsie, the place is swarming with them! …How can we live in such a place!'

"'Show us. Show us how.' It was said so matter of factly it took me a second to realize she was praying. More and more the distinction between prayer and the rest of life seemed to be vanishing for Betsie.

"'Corrie!' she said excitedly. 'He's given us the answer! Before we asked, as He always does! In the Bible this morning. Where was it? Read that part again!'

"I glanced down the long dim aisle to make sure no guard was in sight, then drew the Bible from its pouch. 'It was in First Thessalonians,' I said. ...."Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus.'"

"'That's it, Corrie! That's His answer. "Give thanks in all circumstances!" That's what we can do. We can start right now to thank God for every single thing about this new barracks!' I stared at her; then around me at the dark, foul-aired room.

"'Such as?' I said.

"'Such as being assigned here together,' she said. 'Such as what you're holding in your hands.' I looked down at the Bible.

"'Yes! Thank You, dear Lord, that there was no inspection when we entered here! Thank You for all these women, here in this room, who will meet You in these pages.'

"'Yes,' said Betsie, 'Thank You for the very crowding here. Since we're packed so close, that many more will hear!' She looked at me expectantly. 'Corrie!' she prodded.

"'Oh, all right. Thank You for the jammed, crammed, stuffed, packed suffocating crowds.'

"'Thank You,' Betsie went on serenely, 'for the fleas and for--'

"The fleas! This was too much. 'Betsie, there's no way even God can make me grateful for a flea.'

"'Give thanks in all circumstances,' she quoted. It doesn't say, 'in pleasant circumstances.' Fleas are part of this place where God has put us.

"And so we stood between tiers of bunks and gave thanks for fleas. But this time I was sure Betsie was wrong."

Well, as it happened, the two sisters were packed so close that when they read the scriptures every night, there were many others who could listen in. And as they shared the teachings of Christ, they saw a significant change in the way the prisoners treated each other – with more kindness, more politeness, more friendliness. They sometimes wondered why they weren't yelled at or forced to give away their Bible, until one day there was a problem in the barracks and someone had to ask a supervisor to come settle it.

"But she wouldn't. She wouldn't step through the door and neither would the guards. And you know why?"

"Betsie could not keep the triumph from her voice: 'Because of the fleas! That's what the guard said, "That place is crawling with fleas!'"

"My mind rushed back to our first hour in this place. I remembered Betsie's bowed head, remembered her thanks to God for creatures I could see no use for."

Anyway. So I remembered reading this story before the mission, and I told it to my companion that night to remind us to be thankful for everything, even the fleas.

After I finished Hermana West just stared at me for a long second. Then she said, “Thank you… for showing me how it could be worse if we were in a concentration camp!” Then she flung over and pulled the covers over her head.

Then, as I was preparing this talk, I found an article where Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin quotes Robert Louis Stevenson, “who wrote, ‘The man who forgets to be thankful has fallen asleep in life.’” And I thought of that day with my companion and it made me smile.

I absolutely know it to be true that the more focused we are on the good things in life - the blessings we are given, everything that Heavenly Father continues to do for us - the happier we will be.

President Gordon B. Hinckley has said: “My plea is that we stop seeking out the storms and enjoy more fully the sunlight. I am suggesting that as we go through life, we ‘accentuate the positive.’ I am asking that we look a little deeper for the good, that we still our voices of insult and sarcasm, that we more generously compliment and endorse virtue and effort” (Standing for Something [2000], 101).

Being grateful is more than saying “thank yous” in your prayers. It’s living in a way that recognizes your complete dependence on our Heavenly Father. When I’m more grateful in life, I can more easily remember my Savior and what He suffered so that I can have second, third, and seventy-times-seven more chances. I’m so grateful for the Sacrament to remind me of how I promised to be clean when I was baptized, and how He promises to clean me one more time every time I mess up.

The Savior himself taught us to be grateful at all times in Luke 6: 32-33. “For if ye love them which love you, what thank have ye? …. And if ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have yet? For sinners also do even the same.” Here He was teaching the higher law of not only loving people that love us back, but loving all people. I also think it applies to gratitude: If we’re only thankful for the good times, how much is our gratitude worth? We are asked to give thanks not just for our blessings, but for ALL things, good and bad. Even the fleas.

So I’m grateful for the hard times in my life, because those times are when I realize, yet again, that there’s no way I can possibly fall. I have too many support systems, in my friends, my family, the ward. I’m so indebted and thankful for the people in my life that bring me up.

Being grateful also helps me find the most important things in life to focus on. I absolutely loved President Thomas S. Monson’s talk in this past conference about finding joy in the journey. In it he said this great quote:

“Both abundance and lack [of abundance] exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities. It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend . . . when we choose not to focus on what is missing from our lives but are grateful for the abundance that’s present—love, health, family, friends, work, the joys of nature, and personal pursuits that bring us [happiness]—the wasteland of illusion falls away and we experience heaven on earth.”

We can have that same kind of experience when we open our eyes and appreciate all that we have. I’m immensely grateful to my Father in Heaven for all He’s given – especially when He gave His Son to pay for my sins. I know I can never repay that, but the more grateful I am, the more I can try, and the happier I will be along the way.

That’s the truth.

New Look, New Look

This weekend, thanks to skilled professionals, both my blog and I got a fresh new look. My good friend Ali offered her services as design consultant and brilliant web enthusiast to redesign the look of my blog. (Don't you just love daisies? They're really the happiest flower.) And my new friend at a sweet hair salon helped me color and cut my hair! Not to subtly endorse Obama or anything, but sometimes it is time for a change.


After church I went on a drive up Millcreek Canyon with the parental units, to take some pictures of the fading, but still very pretty, fall foliage. Take a look!



I came across a magical leaf that glowed bright red.


But then my father took a cooler picture with Mom and me all fuzzy-like in the background. Dad: 1, Beckie: 0.


Yay for fall in Utah!


And now for something completely different... what is it with 80's movies and boys on bicycles??? I just watched the classic Christian warm-fuzzy "Feature Films for Families" movie The Buttercream Gang. And the many idyllic summer-afternoon boys-on-bicycles scenes suddenly made me think: hey, The Goonies! Karate Kid! E.T.!! Kids nowadays don't ride bikes anymore...will they even understand the references to such carefree times? I guess mostly I was thinking about this because I also spent 88 minutes of my life this weekend watching Hot Rod. Yeah, there was a lot of bike riding in that one. But, it is a lot newer than those others, if not much better. With all the punch-dancing and hair-band rock music, it treads mainly in nostalgia territory. Man, that totally shatters my universe.

UEA: Not the United Arab Emirates

Wheee for UEA weekend! There's just nothing like having two consecutive days off school. So I decided to take advantage of it. Here's a little bit of what was going on:

Wednesday I stayed at school until 5:30 PM (a personal record) grading the 7th grade Utah Studies projects (on their first family members to move to Utah). When I finally finished I met up with Lisa and we drove to Logan! Wow... Every time I enter that valley again it feels like coming home. Anna was kind enough to put me up for the night, and in 24 hours I played it up, Utah State style - watching movies, midnight horchata run, Office night, going to class, Hazel's bread, Aggie ice cream, etc. We even went on a much-needed hike Thursday afternoon, in the unseasonably warm weather, to the Wind Caves (I've been there before, of course, but this time it didn't rain).


Aimee and Lisa with our friends Varuna and Lucas. I stole these pictures directly from Varuna's Facebook account - thanks Varuna!


Hey, don't knock the fuzzy camera phone zooms. Isn't an unfocused photo better than no photo at all? Here's Lucas, Lisa, me, and Aimee.



Friday night my brother Thomas, Kenneth, and my sister Anna and I paid fifteen dollars to wander around David Archuleta's face. Ewww! What I meant was, of course, we went to the corn maze at Thanksgiving Point that looks just like the kid. Here's a picture I stole from http://php.terra.com/english/gallery/music/gallery.php?gallery=10581 :


For Anna it was a chance to get inside David Archuleta's head; I just got lost in his eyes.



The pictures of my face inside a cow head, incidentally, are not included here. Though here is Thomas, for your viewing pleasure, looking pumpkin-faced and sheepish, respectively.



Take note: the following picture is slightly dark to see and vaguely scary anyway. It was this giant inflatable monster. You walked in his mouth, past the uvula, into the esophogus and all the way though the intestines, while people dressed up as, I don't know, red blood cells walked around jumping out at you.


We called it the Magic School Bus experience. Delicious.


We also enjoyed jumping on the giant pillow, which was really some weird kind of trampoline.

Here be Anna and Kenneth on the giant rocking chair.

A strange-faced Anna and I, stuck in the maze. I actually had a lot of fun! I would say it was overpriced, but since I really did enjoy myself, I'm going to go with Worth It.

Saturday, though, was even less expensive and even more worth it. Let me explain--- no, there is too much. Let me sum up: My favorite radio station 101.9 The End sponsored a concert of this new band Thriving Ivory, for only 5 bucks a ticket. I felt a slight ownership of this group because I heard them the first time Parker played the whole album on the air about a month ago, and I liked it so much I bought their album (online, used, for like 58 cents).

Now I've heard a lot of people don't enjoy the lead singer's voice, which is understandable--- it sounded a little different and weird to me too - at first. Now that I'm used to it, I really enjoy the unique sound. I'm so sick of bands sounding the same - Lifehouse, Daughtry, 3 Doors Down, etc, ugh. At least this is something new.

The concert was at the Murray Theater, and sold out. We still found a great spot, though. I loved being able to see over people's heads!


Of cousre the opening bands were local and unremarkable, but the main event was surprisingly entertaining. They were all very energetic, if a little emo. The crowd was supportive and welcoming (i.e. we screamed a lot. Especially Carol and her Xena call).



I don't have a really good shot - again, camera phones here, hello! - but I was really impressed with the lead guitarist. He was brilliant. Very talented, just grinning the whole time, and an exellent soloist.

It was Jenny's first concert. I think she liked it.

Finally, this morning a friend of mine who works at the temple downtown invited me to the annual Salt Lake Temple Devotional, an amazing and beautiful experience. It's such a sacred place that not everyone is always allowed in all parts of the building, but today was special permission to see the assembly room, in which I had never before been.

See those two rows of windows in the middle? Well, let me just say that I was on the other side. With the prophet, President Monson, and the president of the temple and his wife, Brother and Sister Walker (who, incidentally, happen to be in my home ward). Their messages were mostly of gratitude for the hours and hours of service of those who keep the temple working all day. President Monson also related a few stories (of course) of members of the church in then-Soviet Europe trying to get permission to come to the US or even to another European country just to visit the temple. But while the messages were great, my favorite part was just sitting in that room before the meeting started, and feeling the spirit that was present. If I could always remember that feeling, I know I'd do anything possible to always be looking for any excuse to get back to that building.

And now, lamentably, the weekend is nearing its close and I need to go over my lesson plans for the upcoming week. I hope that was enough info on my life to tide you over. I'll be back....soon.

¡Feliz 18 de Septiembre!

Ok everyone, I've restrained myself long enough...it's time for a cele-Chilean-abration! This is me (and some random chilean guy behind me, smile random chilean guy!), many moons and several thousand miles ago, enjoying some rico pollo abrazado y papas fritas. Mmm. What you don't also know is that I'm at a big box store called Lider, similar to WalMart, eating that chicken and fries. Yum!



So now it's time for a little time-warp. Let's pretend it's 18 de Septiembre, 2006! The place? La Ligua, V region, Chile. The occasion? Um, I forgot exactly what it is they're celebrating for their Patriotic Fiestas, but it's great, and we should sing and dance for it. So we the missionaries of the Quillota Zone decided to have a great PR activity where we get local members to dance and we sing Chilean songs to general public humiliation (ours) and delight (hopefully, theirs).
And here it is: a fine example of the Chilean "cueca," the national dance. In case you're wondering what the American equivalant is...well, there isn't. We have national birds, fish, anthems, talk-like-a-pirate days, but no national dance. (That I know of.) Anyway, this is it. And here's another:


Here's where the ward members all do a little dance in front of a bunch of normal, everyday Chilean people. Oh, it's awesome. You always get to do the double-clap like that when you watch. And I love the guys' attire: awesome ponchos and hats and even boots. Watch!

Here they are in pause-motion. So you can fully appreciate the traditional clothing. That kid is only like fourteen, but he's way good.


We were taping together little flags to give to people for free. This is that photo I sent home and Mom had up on the fridge for so long it turned yellowed and crusty. Go Hermana Castro! And hurrah for La Ligua sweaters!!


Oh, and we couldn't resist getting one pictures with this cute old lady. She was the mother-in-law of the lady dancing, who was a sister in the ward there. But this abuelita never wanted to get baptized. That's ok. She still served us lunch like once a week. I was cool with that. (P.S. No, it's not a messed up Texas flag. It's Chile. It came first.)

I like this one for two reasons: A) The crazy random elder on the right, and B) The crazy random dancing guy on the left.

Finally, as if you didn't already have enough pictures of me eating, I present to you what the Fiestas Patrias are really about: stuffing yourself silly on "asado" (grilled meat) and whatever delicious food you can find. Maybe it looks like I just posed in front of all that beef just to make it look like I ate a lot. It's not posed. It's real. I ate it all. It was delicious.

And thank you for joining me on this selfish jaunt down mission-memory lane. You've also learned to appreciate another culture! I commend you. Now, go and Talk Like A Pirate!

The Summer of Doing Things I’d Never Done Before

August is almost over! And to think it was only May 1^st the last time it snowed in Logan.

“Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer.” ---William Shakespeare

So here it is, my Summer of New Experiences all together in a neat little list. Maybe not so neat…it gets a little messy at times, but straightens itself up in the end. Kind of like how my summer went!

50 THINGS I HAD NEVER DONE BEFORE BUT I HAVE DONE THIS SUMMER

1. Lived in Logan in the summer
2. Worked in Logan in the summer
3. Worked two jobs
4. Hiked the Wind Caves (to the top, in the rain)
5. Played so much sand volleyball
6. Played so much ultimate frizbee with the ward
7. Invented the game “scrizbee” (soccer + frizbee)
8. Been to Vernal, Utah
9. Seen so many movies on their opening weekend (ahem: Baby Mama, Iron Man, Prince Caspian, Indiana Jones 4, Incredible Hulk, Get Smart, Wall-E, Mamma Mia, Dark Knight, The Mummy 3… Yeah, I know)
10. Listened to so much classic rock (mostly at work)
11. Been at a cemetery on Memorial Day, in the rain, with bagpipes
12. Gotten to know just about everyone in my student ward
13. Gotten a ticket for not wearing my seatbelt…when I was wearing it
14. Learned so much about the judicial system
15. Hiked the Crimson Trail…twice (once in complete darkness)
16. Been a bridesmaid
17. Been to Malad, Idaho
18. Attended a local concert at The White Owl in Logan
19. Canoed at 1^st Dam
20. Seen Saturn’s rings through a telescope (through a telescope)
21. Performed (twice!) in the Summer Symphony
22. Enjoyed 4^th of July fireworks…four days in a row (Hyrum, Logan, Bear Lake, and homemade)
23. Rowed across Porcupine Reservoir
24. Cliff-jumped, even if it was just three or four feet high
25. Stayed overnight in a cabin at Bear Lake
26. Gone country dancing, and actually danced and enjoyed myself
27. Hiked to Temple Fork
28. Taken summer classes or done homework in July
29. Seen a midnight movie premiere in Logan
30. Been to a rodeo
31. Been to a Demolition Derby
32. Rafted down the Oneida Narrows
33. Cleaned “The Kitchen Sink” at Angie’s
34. Jumped off a bridge into the freezing water at 1^st Dam
35. Lain on the grass at midnight watching the stars and listening to Jimmy Eat World
36. Been to L.A., Hollywood and greater San Diego
37. Seen dolphins, seals, and sand crabs on the beach in California
38. Touched bat rays, eels, sea turtles, and seen all sorts of water creatures at Sea World
39. Eaten at In ‘N Out burger - twice in as many days
40. Driven from Los Angeles to Logan in one day
41. Paid $4.39 a gallon for gasoline
42. Three words: Midnight Beto’s run (ok, so it may be Rancherito’s now, but nobody really calls it that. Same building, same food, same grease)
43. Watched a movie on a laptop in Logan Canyon
44. Seen “Into the Woods” live, or any musical by the Utah Festival Opera
45. Rowed an entirely cardboard and duct tape boat across a body of water
46. Stood on a wheat thresher
47. Been to the Cache County Fair
48. Been rock climbing/repelling down a 60-ft. mountain wall
49. Watched “Signs” outside at night
50. Been to the top of the Old Main tower

I just read through this list at least three times and watched my entire summer like a flashback-montage running through my head. I am so spoiled! Well, maybe the proper word would be blessed. I’ve had so many great experiences – and the best part is, I can look forward to so many more!

But the reason it’s so fun to remember all these things is not just thinking about what I did, but who I did it with. I wouldn’t have enjoyed any of it without all the great friendships we built, created, and reinforced these past few months. Wow… thanks, guys.

“Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.” ---Henry James

“Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world.” ---Ada Louise Huxtable

“People take pictures of the summer, just in case someone thought they had missed it. And to prove that it really existed.” ---Ray Davies

“I do not regret the things I have done, but those I did not do.” ---Empire Records

Refresh, Renew, Restart

Goodbye, Logan.... Hello, ironic twist!

So I'm sitting in the little office at the Creamies factory where I've spent most of my summer. It's really slowed down here since August started - my boss had to let his summer workers go because the orders from Associated Foods and WalMart had declined drastically, and hardly anyone comes in the front anymore. It's a pretty big change from how it was when I started in May and June. I've definitely come to more fully appreciate the frozen treats business - all the behind-the-scenes work that goes on to get ice cream from boxes of butter, sugar, milk, and flavoring into tasty Creamies you buy at the store. And Charlie's will forever be my favorite ice cream place in Logan.

Last week I said goodbye to the gang at the Analysis, Assessments, and Accreditation office at Utah State. They were good friends of mine - after all, I worked there for almost an entire year. Luckily I lived to see the day when my co-secretary Marilyn got on Facebook, so I get to keep in touch that way.

Now my car's packed and I've already moved all my stuff out of the good old Canyon Terrace house. Yesterday we had an ice cream social after church to get rid of a 3-gallon tub of Carmel Cashew that I bought for the sweet, sweet price that we sell them at work. There was no way I could get it home without it melting all over, so I enlisted the wardies in a service project of eating to get rid of it for me. Good times...good eating.

The best goodbye was my farewell to Cache Valley on Saturday night. I went up with my friend Nic to a park on the edge of the mountain after visiting the fair, and we were met with a most amazing sight: The expanse of the valley, all lit up, especially the A to the north and the temple to the south, stars right above our heads, and the most electrifying lightning storm on the west by the mountains. It was breathtaking. (Literally...since Nic had been around animals at the fair and had allergic reactions to them...bwah ha.) I realized how much I'd come to love this place we call Logan. It really is beautiful!

And I've told this story a couple times, but here's once more for the blogosphere: I'd been in the MTC for a couple weeks when we got a new group of sisters in our zone. We welcomed them in, took care of them, showed them around, but three short weeks later they had to leave to go to the Peru MTC to finish up their training. I'll always remember what one of the girls wrote in my journal as they were going: "So, I'm way bummed that I'm leaving. But not bummed enough to stay!"

It may not always have been true these past few days, but it is now. I'm ready for a fresh new start. It's sad to end, and scary to begin something new... but it does a body good.

Summer, Part 2: This Time It's Not Summer Part 1

Like Ebeneezer Scrooge of old, I feel like I've been given another chance. Second Summer will be just as good, and better, than the first half was. I've finally finished my academic experiment: taking an entire semester's worth of class - two classes, actually - in two weeks time. Monday through Friday, I was at basically at school from 8 AM until 5 PM.

That's a lot of sitting time.

Not that I don't sit when I work every day. But the biggest difference is that when you work, you leave and you're done. When you leave school, you take it home, and you cannot escape it.

I suppose I learned, and I liked going to class for social aspects, and now I'm six credits closer to graduating. And the best part is, it's the last day of school all over again. Summer is reborn!

Court!

So if you haven't heard... I lost in court today. I was sentenced to 15-20 days in prison, which is why I'm writing now from jail. Thanks, American tax payers, for maximum-security's high speed internet connection!

No, I'm kidding: I only had to pay the fine. And speaking of fine, so am I. Really!

Backstory: In case you didn't hear, I got a citation (forever ago: it was May 30th!) when I was a passenger in my roommate's car, for not wearing a seatbelt. Yeah, it's taken this long for Logan to get around to making me pay it!

I left my first class a little early and arrived a tiny bit late to my later class, but overall it fit nicely into my schedule. When I first got there I got to see the video from the cop car (I'm a movie star!) and was pleased to see I had remembered what he said almost word for word. Then I went up and spoke to the judge.

I was really surprised to see that it was just like on TV - without a jury of course, but I sat at a desk, there was a bailiff, the judge was a middle aged woman with crazy bushy hair and those same frumpy robes. The cop's prosecutor even asked questions with the same slippery jargon as on those shows, and I even got to call up my roommates as witnesses.

Lisa swore in for me, and Jenny did too (after the trial, she even swore for me literally! Woot!). They both told it like it was and I couldn't be more grateful for their help. Well, Lisa would disagree - she wishes she could've helped out more. I was up there and couldn't think of anything more to ask them as witnesses, nor any cross-examining questions to ask the officer. Afterwards Lisa said she would've represented me. I definitely think she should be a judge. After she's a teacher. ;)

Really, I was so much more calm and together than the first time, when I'd gone in to make my plea. I wasn't nervous; I wasn't even mad. I think it was because of the high volume of praying I had done the previous 24 hours, but I decided beforehand that I was fine with whatever happened. Sure, I could've just paid the ticket and not had to go through all this, but it was definitely worth the try. I remember thinking, even as the prosecutor was going through his schpiel, that this was great just for the experience. Another notch on the List of Things I'd Never Done! (It's going great this summer!!)

There just came a point when I realized that it was more important for me to be nice and possibly lose than win with the price of being mean. I guess that plays my hand - I'm really just a softie at heart. But I didn't feel good about fighting. Instead, I felt great, sitting in front of the judge, prosecutor, and police officer, smiling, friendly, calmly stating my position.

The officer said that it was dusk, around 9:15 or 9:30 when this happened, and he had a good look into the car and saw my seatbelt hanging loose. (Actually, it was at least 10 pm, since that was how late we'd left from getting our hair cut, so it would've been dark by then, and my seatbelt was never hanging loose - it was clicked the whole time. It was only the shoulder strap that I adjusted lower.) The prosecutor was really good with words though, and ran a nice circle around me. I couldn't even think of anything to ask! Honestly, I felt pretty intimidated by the judge, who had told me off when I first got there for talking when I didn't know I wasn't supposed to talk yet. Sigh.

The judge finally decided that I wore the seatbelt lower on my shoulder than normal, meaning I "failed to wear a properly adjusted and fastened safety belt."

I'm not going to get mad. Well, the only thing that was insulting happened after I explained why I was wearing it low - I'm short, so when I wear it the way it comes out it cuts into my neck, so I push it down lower, but still high enough that, I believe, it would still save my life. Then the judge looked down at me and said, "Not to be mean or anything, but that's why they make booster seats. My granddaughter has the same problem." Ouch. Ok, I'm short, but I don't need a ...a booster seat! I smiled and thanked her for the advice. I also felt bad for the cop who had to take time out of his day to come repeat his story in what must have seemed like a trivial little matter, and even apologized (really quickly and quietly) as he walked out. So I can't be mad, really. Even the prosecutor was kind to me afterward.

Luckily I have a few roommates that can get mad for me. It's like when Harry Potter feels happy even when bad things happen to him, because "Hermione's and Ron’s indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him... his heart felt lighter than air." Thanks, friends!!

So, yes, I paid the $45 fine. It's the same amount of money I spent on Monday buying a single textbook for one of my summer classes. Ah, it's great being a college student.

Incidentally...I had been feeling bummed lately, a little nostalgic, about leaving Logan. I don't feel that bad about it anymore. ;)

In the end...believe me when I say I'm glad this happened. It was an educational experience and I'm glad I could learn about the court system on something so small. I hope I never have to do this again!

Idealism in the Face of the Impending Bitter Awakening

In terms of myself as a preservice teacher, I realize that I am idealistic and yet I can do nothing to change that. I can't force myself to become embittered and cynical because I have no experience to warrant such feelings. I suppose I know it's impossible for me to change all my students' lives, to ensure that everyone passes my class with flying colors, to make my future students learn... and yet I don't know that, because I want it to be true so badly I think I really believe it.

Where did that rant-ito (um, Spanglish for "tiny rant?") come from? Through my multiple clickings today I found this article in The Atlantic Monthly that I really, really interested me. It's written by a part-time, adjunct professor who teaches the nontraditional, returning students in like a community college, and is saddened and frustrated with being the bad guy in "the system." S/he is in charge of teaching English 101 and 102-type classes to people who are already working full time but need some post-secondary credit for promotions or to get into some other field. The students are also mostly described as illiterate. And so this writer is faced with being the bad guy: having to fail people that were accepted and perhaps led to believe that they would suceed when really they can't, and don't. The article says:

"No one has drawn up the flowchart and seen that, although more-widespread college admission is a bonanza for the colleges and nice for the students and makes the entire United States of America feel rather pleased with itself, there is one point of irreconcilable conflict in the system, and that is the moment when the adjunct instructor, who by the nature of his job teaches the worst students, must ink the F on that first writing assignment."

What is so depressing about this article is that it rings true: we all know that college is not for everyone. The writer of the article even mentions how 9 out of 15 students in the class fail. And I can see where this would hurt the most: not the universities, who get their tuition money whether or not the student passes the class, but the teachers and the individuals themselves, who are the ones who have to deliver and accept, respectively, the bad news. The article continues:

"America, ever-idealistic, seems wary of the vocational-education track. We are not comfortable limiting anyone’s options. Telling someone that college is not for him seems harsh and classist and British, as though we were sentencing him to a life in the coal mines. I sympathize with this stance; I subscribe to the American ideal. Unfortunately, it is with me and my red pen that that ideal crashes and burns. "

I found this article through a link from a teacher's blog called http://teachingprofessor.blogspot.com/ and one of the comments from that post was from another teacher who also is in charge of "numerous students who do not have the necessary skills to be in college" and is terribly tired of it. She says,

"The writer of the article is not blaming the students personally for their failure, but s/he is exhausted at taking the blame. And so am I - so exhausted in fact that I am leaving teaching. I can no longer look over a class of 24 students and know that as many as half of them will not be able to achieve the level of writing proficiency they need to go on, that failing my class will be the reason they do not go on in their programme or receive their certificate. "

Um...remember the part where she says she's leaving teaching? She's sick of watching people not make it.

It's too much for me to ignore. Obviously something similar will happen to me. Even from a purely statistical perspective, it's clear that not everyone I will teach will suceed. So it seems it will overtake me either way, pushing me away from teaching so I won't have to tell people they're failures, or keeping me on but in a gradually more embittered and depressive state.

Raise your hand if you still want to be a teacher!

And yet I do. Which is exactly my point: I still don't believe it. I can't understand the notion of giving up or giving in because I haven't yet begun.

What do these scenarios mean for a junior high or high school teacher? I mean, the problems these college professors had were from "poorly prepared students." That only seems to make my job that much more important, and essential, in preparing students for whatever lies ahead. Ok, so not everyone will go to college. But I can still prepare them for other things they might need to come up against in their lives. And I can prepare those who are heading toward college to suceed in future classes. That's my role.

One last thing I really appreciated from the Atlantic Monthly article is when the author noted the growing assumption that everyone in the American workforce in general should be better educated, how there is a sense that "we want the police officer who stops the car with the broken taillight to have a nodding acquaintance with great literature. And when all is said and done, my personal economic interest in booming college enrollments aside, I don’t think that’s such a boneheaded idea." Me neither!!! I especially love when the article lists a couple of ways that literature might be able to broaden perspectives of people in all areas of the workforce:

"Will having read Invisible Man make a police officer less likely to indulge in racial profiling? Will a familiarity with Steinbeck make him more sympathetic to the plight of the poor, so that he might understand the lives of those who simply cannot get their taillights fixed? Will it benefit the correctional officer to have read The Autobiography of Malcolm X? The health-care worker Arrowsmith? Should the child-welfare officer read Plath’s “Daddy”? Such one-to-one correspondences probably don’t hold. But although I may be biased, being an English instructor and all, I can’t shake the sense that reading literature is informative and broadening and ultimately good for you. If I should fall ill, I suppose I would rather the hospital billing staff had read The Pickwick Papers, particularly the parts set in debtors’ prison. "

Not gonna lie: I haven't read all the aforementioned works of literature, though I have heard of (most of) them. But I can see where the argument is going, and I appreciate it: that "reading is informative and broadening and ultimately good for you."

Remember, that's why I'm teaching English: like milk, it does a body good. :)

A blog within a blog within a blog

"If I'm just adding to the noise, turn off this song."
---Switchfoot

Wow. I just read something that really turned me off blogging. And that something is.... everyone else's blogs.

Since I have nothing to do at my morning job, I literally sit and play on the internet for three hours and get paid for it. I have my rounds - my favorite is clicked.msnbc.msn.com, because it's just a bunch of links to more silly entertaining internet stuff.

Today Clicked said this:

"Speaking of giving up, One Post Wonder is a blog that features blogs that have only managed a single post. Blogging seemed like such a great idea until they actually tried it."

So I clicked it. Funny idea, yes? But in the end, so terribly, terribly humiliating.

And here I am...adding to the noise.

Thanks for reading. You get a cookie!

Sharing: It's the icing on the cake

Friday night I experienced one of those fulfilling, this-makes-it-all-worth-it moments. A that's-why-i-first-got-into-this-business feeling, where something you made, something you did, visibly affected someone else.

I made a CD.

It started last week, when my boss at the Creamie's factory - who also runs Charlie's Ice Cream parlor here in Logan - and I got to talking about music. He's a huge fan of The Who and etc classic rock, whereas I tend to keep myself updated on current trends. When he realized that, he said, "Hey, do you think you could make a list, or burn a CD of some of the popular songs that kids are listening to nowadays?"

Um, yes. I mean, that's practically my day job, I do it so much. Ok, besides my real day job.

"Good," he continued. "Then I'll put it in the jukebox in Charlie's."

Right then something inside my soul blew up. A tiny explosion of happy.

So, I bought a bunch of songs off Amazon (I still don't have iTunes), and used some of Alan's stuff from 7th Day of May 2008, and made this sweetawesome mix. Last Saturday, it showed up in the jukebox. CD number 48. 25 cents for one song or 5 songs for a dollar. YES!

We didn't get around to visiting until last night, after Mary Anne's wedding reception in Malad. At 11pm Charlie's is still the "cool" ice cream hangout for high school and some college kids. So there we were, all dressed up, eating baby-scoop ice creams, and listening to Coldplay's Viva La Vida on a jukebox. We realized, once again, that we are so cool.

But the best part was when Pork and Beans by Weezer came up, and I sat there watching the high schoolers in front of us rocking out. I mean, they were loving it! Another group of college-ish aged kids had been heading toward the door, but when that song came on they slowed and lingered. "Are you sure this is the new Weezer?" "I don't know...but that definitely sounds like Rivers Cuomo!" They sat back down and finished the song before they left. And those high schoolers were air-guitaring and singing along.

I sat back in my plastic bench seat and just grinned. Why? Because I CREATED THAT MOMENT.

Best day of my life.

(Exaggeration added for effect. Enlarged to show texture. Serving suggestion only. Do not attempt.)

To find someone you love, you gotta be someone you love.

"I'm not going to teach what the manual says to teach," my coworker told me. She was talking about how she teaches the Young Women of her ward, has a 17 year old daughter herself, and has been going through a difficult divorce. "I want to know what you think, what I should tell these girls instead."

"Why?" I wondered. "What does the manual say?"

"Oh, you know - Prince Returned Missionary finds the beautiful young woman, carries her up to the castle on the hill, everything after is perfect... I'm not telling them that. I'm not perpetuating untruths! I fell for it. I won't do that to them.

"That's why I'm asking lots of people their opinion. What would YOU say to them? What advice would you give on the subject of marriage to a group of 12-18 year old girls?"


So I decided to respond. Good thing I don't have much to do at work - this is all I did the rest of the day. Here's what I said:

I do think many times we are led to believe that marriage is the goal, the end, the finish line. We seem to feel that being single is a disease that is cured by marriage. (And then we'll never be sick again!) Or that we're playing a game in life where those who get married are the winners. Too many times I'm afraid that lots of girls are taught that marriage is a reward: that if you're righteous enough as you grow up, if you keep the commandments and make good choices, God will give you a good husband, and you'll be happy forever after.



This is a dangerous and unfair outlook. Not only does it imply that those who haven't married or who don't marry are failures or sinners or simply flawed, it also suggests that all us need to be thinking about is marriage, marriage all the time. Find a boy, get a boy, marry the boy, and ding ding ding!! you're a winner.



Calm down, everybody. It doesn't work like that. Even in "The Game of LIFE" getting married is only in the first little part of the game. You still have your whole life afterwards!



Yes, I do have the goal to marry in the temple some day.
No. I have the goal to be a person who is worthy enough to marry someone worthy in the temple someday. I have faith to marry in the temple someday.



There are two action parts of that faith: one depends on me, and the other, doesn't. The part that depends on me is what kind of person I am. So I'm working at being the kind of person not only that someone else can love, but one that I love.



I ask myself, Self, "If you were to get married tomorrow, are you prepared to be a good spouse? Would you bring to your marriage personal qualities that would make you a good partner? Are you a good communicator? Are you a good problem solver? Do you have skills to create a nurturing climate in your home? Do you have enough faith, hope, and charity to create a marriage that will survive and thrive?" (Sister Beck's talk)



Sound scary, doesn't it? Then, I remember how not everything depends on me. Actually, only a third of it does - the other thirds belong to whomever I walk into the sealing room with that day, and to God.



It still sounds like a lot of hard work. Well, it is. It's not rainbows, unicorns and sprinkles. I know I'll be happy, but only if I learn how to be happy right now. "Wake up and do something more than dream of your mansion above!"



Even Sister Beck said in a recent CES fireside that "there is no magical prince" coming to sweep you away.



If your life has good parts and difficult parts right now, that's what it'll be like when you get married. You can't think that it'll solve all your problems. You can't think that any little nagging thing you don't like about yourself will just go away when you have someone else in your life. Instead it'll be magnified, as will any little nagging problems with him.



So when we talk about preparing for a temple marriage, what we're really saying is, prepare yourself to be a good person. BE a good person right now! In the words to a song I love ("Concrete Bed" by Nada Surf), "To find someone you love, you gotta be someone you love."



Sister Beck emphasizes that there's no guy out there who "will gladly appreciate unclean or unpleasant habits or a careless appearance in you. Yes, a righteous man will love you for what is in your mind and heart, but he will be even more grateful for a woman who values cleanliness and loveliness in herself and in her surroundings. Righteous men are drawn to women who have radiant countenances. Also, no righteous priesthood holder will willingly tolerate a pornography habit in his wife, nor will he appreciate her displaying and advertising her precious body to other men by the tight or otherwise immodest and inappropriate ways she dresses and conducts herself. Additionally, I have yet to meet a man who enjoys dramatic emotional displays and temper tantrums. There is no mate who will cheerfully overlook selfishness.

Now is your season to develop righteous and respectful habits and Christlike qualities such as kindness and long-suffering that will bless your future home and family.

Please understand what I just said. I want you to know that your imperfections and weaknesses will go with you into your marriage and will be magnified in that setting. Unless you are getting married today, you still have time to eliminate bad habits and develop good habits and qualities that will bless your marriage and family. President Thomas S. Monson has taught, "It is worthwhile to look ahead, to set a course, to be at least partly ready when the moment of decision comes."⁶

I believe that marriage is something that happens. You can't plan for it - you can't think, "Ok, i'll go to school, graduate, then find someone great and get married." You can't be obsessed by it. You can't know now when that's going to happen. So don't plan on it...but be ready for it. I know - that sounds like a contradiction. What do I mean by that?



One lazy Saturday in the middle of a semester at Utah State University, I woke up with tons of things to do that day. I planned it out: do my laundry, clean the kitchen, practice violin, finish homework, and write a letter to my little sister on a mission. I was perfectly content to finish the things I planned to get done that day. By about 3:30 I was a little bored of just working around the house and I wanted to go out, to go play, but no one was around. So I decided to continue with my plans, and I was sitting on the floor writing to my sister and watching a movie when all my roommates piled in to the living room. "Hey, we're going down to Ogden to run some errands, want to come?" I thought about it and realized I did want to. I hadn't finished everything on my list, and I was in the middle of something else by then, but I'd worked hard and though I had other plans, I was ready when someone called. I feel like that's how I need to live my life right now: I make plans (go to college, get a job, always learning and doing new things), and I enjoy them, but at the same moment I'm ready to change those plans if it's called for. Imagine how sick I would feel if I'd sat around all day worrying and wondering when someone would come over and invite me to do something! Instead I was able to get a lot done and split my time evenly. I also wasn't so caught up in my own plans that I couldn't put them aside to enjoy myself with friends for a while. Plus, the next day was Sunday and I could use the afternoon to write letters. I just feel like things will happen when they happen, and to always have a plan just in case it's not happening.



Incidentally...I also believe that God wants us to marry because He wants us to be happy, and no matter how hard we try to convince ourselves, we need other people to be truly happy. So if He wants it, He will definitely help us as we work toward it. I know it.

Graph of a Big Movie Speech

Thought it strikingly appropriate. Thanks for the tip-off, Alan! More graph humor and song chart memes here.

Oh, and lol!

BIG INSPIRATIONAL MOVIE SPEECHES by PRESIDENTS, COACHES, CAPTAINS, or LEADERS

In the MTC one day my friend Hermana Tanner - not companion but roommate - admitted to us her fascination with famous Presidential speeches. She has perfectly memorized the Declaration of Independence, the Gettysburg Address, and the following quote from Independence Day. I was so impressed I promised myself I'd do the same someday.

Well, it's been more than two years, and I'm getting around to it. They're not quite memorized, but I thought I'd at least collect some really good ones and blog a sweet to-do list. I know there are some really good ones that I forgot to include, so please, let me know.

BIG INSPIRATIONAL MOVIE SPEECHES

by PRESIDENTS, COACHES, CAPTAINS, or LEADERS:

Independence Day:

President Thomas Whitmore: Good morning.
[PA doesn't work. Turns it on]
President Thomas Whitmore: Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. "Mankind." That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it's fate that today is the Fourth of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom... Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution... but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: "We will not go quietly into the night!" We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!

Remember the Titans:

Coach Boone: This is where they fought the battle of Gettysburg. Fifty thousand men died right here on this field, fighting the same fight that we are still fighting among ourselves today. This green field right here, painted red, bubblin' with the blood of young boys. Smoke and hot lead pouring right through their bodies. Listen to their souls, men. I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family. You listen, and you take a lesson from the dead. If we don't come together right now on this hallowed ground, we too will be destroyed, just like they were. I don't care if you like each other of not, but you will respect each other. And maybe... I don't know, maybe we'll learn to play this game like men.

Return of the King:

Theoden: Forth, and fear no darkness! Arise! Arise, Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword day... a red day... ere the sun rises! Ride now!... Ride now!... Ride! Ride to ruin and the world's ending! Death! Death! DEATH! Forth, Eorlingas!

Aragorn: Hold your ground, hold your ground! Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of woes and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you *stand, Men of the West!*

Rudy:

Rudy: We're gonna go inside, we're gonna go outside, inside and outside. We're gonna get 'em on the run boys and once we get 'em on the run we're gonna keep 'em on the run. And then we're gonna go go go go go go and we're not gonna stop til we get across that goalline. This is a team they say is... is good, well I think we're better than them. They can't lick us, so what do you say men?

Fortune: You're 5 foot nothin', 100 and nothin', and you have barely a speck of athletic ability. And you hung in there with the best college football players in the land for 2 years. And you're gonna walk outta here with a degree from the University of Notre Dame. In this life, you don't have to prove nothin' to nobody but yourself. And after what you've gone through, if you haven't done that by now, it ain't gonna never happen. Now go on back.

Dead Poets Society:

John Keating: We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

Braveheart:

William Wallace: I AM William Wallace! And I see a whole army of my countrymen, here in defiance of tyranny. You've come to fight as free men... and free men you are. What will you do with that freedom? Will you fight?
Veteran: Against that? No! We will run. And we will live.
William Wallace: Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live... at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin' to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take... OUR FREEDOM!

Dave:

Dave: If you've ever seen the look on somebody's face the day they finally get a job, I've had some experience with this, they look like they could fly. And its not about the paycheck, it's about respect, it's about looking in the mirror and knowing that you've done something valuable with your day. And if one person could start to feel this way, and then another person, and then another person, soon all these other problems may not seem so impossible. You don't really know how much you can do until you, stand up and decide to try.

Dave: Mr. Speaker. Vice President. Members of the Congress. Fellow Americans. I wish I could be here today under different circumstances. There are many things about this country we should discuss. But I realize that's not possible now. As you know, my former chief of staff has implicated me in a scandal involving the First Liberty Savings and Loan. Once people start discussing a scandal, it's hard to talk about anything else. So let's talk about it. Bob Alexander has accused me of --I'll read this to make sure I get it right-- ''...illegally influencing regulators on behalf of campaign contributors...interfering with an ongoing Justice Department investigation...and violating federal election laws in the area of campaign finance.'' Let's get right to the guts of it: every one of these accusations is absolutely true.
Bob Alexander: Ha ha ha! Die, you pond scum!
Dave: I'm the President, and as they say, the buck stops here. So I take full responsibility for each one of my illegal actions. But that's not the whole story. And I think the American people are entitled to the real truth. I have here evidence in the form of notes, letters, and written memoranda, proving that Bob Alexander was involved in each of these illegal acts, and in most cases planned them as well. Allegations of wrongdoing have also been made against Nance. Allegations of wrongdoing have also been made against Vice President Nance. Now, as this evidence will prove, at no time and in no way was the Vice President involved in any of this affair. Bob just made all that up. Vice President Nance is a good and decent public servant, and I want to apologize for any pain that this has caused him or his family.
[Shot of Bob Alexander, watching TV alone]
While we're on the subject, I'd like to apologize to the American people. You see, I forgot that I was hired to do a job for you. And it was just a temp job at that. I forgot I had millions of people who were paying me to make their lives a bit better. I didn't live up to my part of the bargain. There are certain things you should expect from your president. I ought to care more about you than I do about me. I ought to care about- more about- what's right than I do about what's popular. I ought to be willing to give up this whole thing...for something I believe in...because if I'm not...if I'm not.... If I'm not, then... maybe I don't belong here in the first....

The Fugitive:

Deputy Marshal Samuel Gerard: Alright, listen up, people. Our fugitive has been on the run for ninety minutes. Average foot speed over uneven ground barring injuries is 4 miles-per-hour. That gives us a radius of six miles. What I want from each and every one of you is a hard-target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in that area. Checkpoints go up at fifteen miles. Your fugitive's name is Dr. Richard Kimble. Go get him.

Snow Falling On Cedars:

Nels Gudmundsson: I am an old man. I do not walk so well anymore, and one of my eyes is close to useless. My life is drawing to a close. Why do I say this? I say this because it means I ponder matters in the light of death in a way that you do not. I feel like a traveller descended from Mars, astonished at what passes here. What I see is the same human frailty passed from generation to generation. We hate one another. We are the victims of irrational fears.You may think this is a small trial. In a small place. Well, it isn’t. Every once in a while, somewhere in the world, Humanity goes on trial. And integrity. And decency. Every once in a while, common folks get called on to give the report card for the human race. In the name of humanity, do your duty as jurors. Return this man to his wife and children. Set him free. As you must.

Chariots of Fire:

Eric Liddell: You came to see a race today. To see someone win. It happened to be me. But I want you to do more than just watch a race. I want you to take part in it. I want to compare faith to running in a race. It's hard. It requires concentration of will, energy of soul. You experience elation when the winner breaks the tape - especially if you've got a bet on it. But how long does that last? You go home. Maybe you're dinner's burnt. Maybe you haven't got a job. So who am I to say, "Believe, have faith," in the face of life's realities? I would like to give you something more permanent, but I can only point the way. I have no formula for winning the race. Everyone runs in her own way, or his own way. And where does the power come from, to see the race to its end? From within. Jesus said, "Behold, the Kingdom of God is within you. If with all your hearts, you truly seek me, you shall ever surely find me." If you commit yourself to the love of Christ, then that is how you run a straight race.

Amazing Grace:

Lord Charles Fox: When people speak of great men, they think of men like Napoleon - men of violence. Rarely do they think of peaceful men. But contrast the reception they will receive when they return home from their battles. Napoleon will arrive in pomp and in power, a man who's achieved the very summit of earthly ambition. And yet his dreams will be haunted by the oppressions of war. William Wilberforce, however, will return to his family, lay his head on his pillow and remember: the slave trade is no more.

Apollo 13:

Jim Lovell: Uh well, I'll tell ya, I remember this one time - I'm in a Banshee at night in combat conditions, so there's no running lights on the carrier. It was the Shrangri-La, and we were in the Sea of Japan and my radar had jammed, and my homing signal was gone... because somebody in Japan was actually using the same frequency. And so it was - it was leading me away from where I was supposed to be. And I'm lookin' down at a big, black ocean, so I flip on my map light, and then suddenly: zap. Everything shorts out right there in my cockpit. All my instruments are gone. My lights are gone. And I can't even tell now what my altitude is. I know I'm running out of fuel, so I'm thinking about ditching in the ocean. And I, I look down there, and then in the darkness there's this uh, there's this green trail. It's like a long carpet that's just laid out right beneath me. And it was the algae, right? It was that phosphorescent stuff that gets churned up in the wake of a big ship. And it was - it was - it was leading me home. You know? If my cockpit lights hadn't shorted out, there's no way I'd ever been able to see that. So uh, you, uh, never know... what... what events are to transpire to get you home.

The Two Towers:

Frodo: I can't do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.