Esports

On the topic of gendered spaces, I've noticed that esports tend to lean towards males.  Every major professional competitive team is made up of guys.  In fact, all major tournaments over the course of the year only feature the top male teams in the world.  Of course, there are quite a few female teams out there, but their matches don't get streamed or even if they do, barely anyone watches.  Now I'm not as to why this is; it could be because of the skill gap or sexism in general.

Lets take Counter-Strike for example.  In a year, there are about 20 majors hosted around the world. In these tournaments, 16 teams face off coming from various countries.  It should be noted however, that out of 20 tournaments, only one is dedicated to female gaming, and it's host isn't as well known as the others. It was only until 2015 that a female tournament with a prize pool of $30,000 was announced. $30,000 may seem like a lot, but compared to other majors, who have prize pools of up to 1.5 million dollars, it's definitely not.

Only $5K for first????

I've seen some matches played out between female teams, and I do see a slight skill gap.  But those players still are pros and match some of the best players on the well known teams.  Also in my preference, watching the same top teams compete against each other does get boring from time to time.  Many star plays do come out from the top players, but it's kind of at a point where watchers expect highlight moments out of them.  Adding a number of new talents into the mix would definitely make games more interesting.  Hopefully, female gaming will rise in popularity to match that of male gaming.

Webkinz

I remember a long time ago, roughly when I was in the third grade, Webkinz stuffed animals were all the craze.  I remember being so obsessed with it, I even went online to play the virtual game. I was jealous of everyone who had the new ones or just had more than me.  Even though I had a good amount (like 7 or 8), I always needed more.

Come to think of it I never really knew why I wanted them.  They were just like any other stuffed animals. I guess it's because they were mainstream.  Everyone else had them so I felt the need to also. In this sense, Webkinz are a lot like the Pink Flamingos mentioned in Price's essay.   Just like the flamingos and how they came in an assortment of colors featuring "tangerine, broiling magenta, ... methyl green", Webkinz came in all sorts of animals.  Perhaps the one I was most proud of was my bald eagle.  I remember the day I brought it to school, and receiving many compliments.

Thinking back on it, it really surprises me how easily something can become a fad in our culture.  Silly Bandz is another great example.  I collected those too.  However popular these fads may be, though, they will never last long.  It seems American just gets up and walks to the next craze.

Started From the Bottom Now We Here

My parents first stepped foot in America in 1993 to go to college and find better opportunities.  They decided to settle in Virginia.  From there they attended Old Dominion University, where my mom got her masters and my dad got his doctors degree.  Sometime around 2000, they moved to Michigan and bought their first house , were we live in today.  Now, my dad works as a president for a Chinese Car Company, and my mom works at GM.  We live a middle class life, like many others here in Troy, Michigan, but for my parents, it wasn't always like this.

My dad grew up in Wuhan, which is a little off of the east coast of China. He lived his live not having much money.  Though despite not having money, he found happiness in his hobbies, such as soccer and ping pong.  They were able to buy the necessities such as food, water, heating, etc, but luxuries were out of the picture.

My mother's situation was a little bit worse.  She grew up in Shenyang.
 In the house were my mom and her brother, grandpa, and grandma.  My grandpa was a farmer and my grandma worked in a factory.  Often times, they would go days without meat.  In fact, meat was considered a luxury.  Most of their meals consisted of the produce grandpa harvested from his garden.  Mom was a superb student, achieving top scores in the whole school.  It was this hard work and dedication that led her to meet my father in Wuhan university, where they got together and moved to the U.S.

Hearing their backstories really opened my eye to how lucky I am to be born into such an easy life.  Sure, high school and college may be hard but it will never be comparable to what my mom and dad had to go through.  We may not be rich, but we can easily afford many luxuries, even taking vacations every year to extravagant places.  My wish is that I follow in their footsteps.  My wish is to make them proud.

Back to Ping Pong

After reading Brad Manning essay, "Arm Wresting with My Father", I was reminded of how my mom and I would use to go downstairs and play some ping pong.  We used to play around once a week, and we were very competitive.  There was never no clear winner in our ping pong games.  One day I would win, then the next she would. Some days were off days, and on some days I would be hitting shots as quick as the speed of light.

Ping pong for me was a way to take my mind of things. Forget about homework. Forget about life.  The important thing right then was whether I emerged victorious from the half hour battle.   We would play a best of three, 11 point games.  I remember that even if I lost, it didn't matter, because after ping pong meant ice cream.

Yesterday, I challenged mom to a ping pong match.  Her eyes lit up and replied, "You're on!".  Long story short, I ended up winning, but we both played horribly, our rallies only lasting two or three shots.  The effect was the same though, each of us walking up the stairs out of breath, and grabbing some ice cream after.  After so long I had forgotten the fun of ping pong, so I proposed that from now on we play more often.  She agreed and said that next time she won't go easy on me (As if. I could tell she was just as determined as I was). Just like old times.

Back to Blogging

This weeks topic of disabilities combined with Nancy Mair's essay changed my perspective about the way we humans look at things.  I myself have always regarded disabilities as unnatural, as something that shouldn't exist.  But from reading Mair's essay, I've finally begin to understand the viewpoint of disabled people.

I feel like disabled people are classified differently than others.  I guess it's because society automatically puts a sign on every disabled person demanding the pity of others.  Many times I have felt sympathy for them, but I don't think sympathy is something they want.  Also, the video we watched made me ponder why I've never really payed much attention as to why mannequins all look the same, but it's probably because that is the norm nowadays, using perfect body sculptures to show off pieces of clothing.  However after reading Mair's essay I fully agree that people with disabilities are being deprived "of even the urge toward independence" (Mairs 14).  Especially in the media where stereotypes portray disabled people as weak, and needing constant support. As stated by Mairs, this mindset leads people to experience "a subtle kind of self-alienation not unlike that experienced by other minorities". This is the way of thinking that Mairs, along with many others including myself, want destroyed.  Disable people are just as capable as we are, and probably even more.

To go along with current events, disable people and immigrants are are going through similar treatment due to the situation we are in right now.  Because of President Trump's #MuslimBan that executive ordered just a couple days ago, many Americans including myself are tremendously ashamed.  To think that all Muslims belong to a terrorist organization is outright absurd, and goes against the constitution and American values.  Think about the countless refugees trying to get into America.  People don't just leave home just because they want to, but rather it is usually a dangerous situation in which they want to flee.  In classifying people differently, we lose the very belief we stand by. And what do we trade this value away for? Some measly counterfeit illusion of safety.
#NoBanNoWall

What is the wall even gonna do for us anyway?  Most illegal immigrants aren't even from Mexico, more people are leaving the US for Mexico than the other way around.

Long Live the Family

A major theme in A Raisin in the Sun is family and the importance of it.  Almost every decision made is on the behalf of the family. Though the character's goals and desires may have different from each others, any one of them would have benefited the group as a whole.

Although an alcoholic owning a liquor store is quite sketchy, had the idea became successful it would have potentially pushed the Youngers out of poverty.  The reason why this dream isn't taken so seriously is because it came in the beginning of the book, where the family is still relatively divided.  In the beginning of the book, fights are a lot more common and Mama has to keep them together.  It is only until the tragedy at the end of the book happens that the Younger family is finally united.  They have to cope with the loss of the insurance money and Beneatha even disowns Walter, saying that "[Walter] is no brother of mine" (145).  But despite these problems they still unite to overcome Mr. Lindner's racist warnings.  The final goal of the book has turned into the house which represents the creation of one, big, dream for the whole family.

The house itself is also a big factor in the theme of family.  In fact, the whole play is done in the Younger's apartment.  The home is a very cramped one, representing the poverty and oppression, while also remotely symbolizing the togetherness of the family and their dreams. Characters not in the Younger family are still only seen in the Younger's apartment, centralizing the Younger characters.  I have also noticed that most of the bad things happen outside the home, for example Walter's drinking, Travis chasing a rat, and the stolen insurance money.  I'm not completely sure as to what this means, but I think it has to do with the idea that as individuals, the Younger's dreams aren't important.  It is only the dream of the family, of having a new house that is the most important one, and by having undesired events happening outside of the house, this is what Hansberry was trying to exemplify.  It is also fitting that the last scene is Mama leaving the house, representing the family's dream being reached.

Wealth's Corruption

Wealth and corruption seem to go hand in hand in The Great Gatsby and The Diamond as Big as the Ritz.  Money is often paired with happiness . The more money someone has, he/she is generally happier.  Another way of thinking is that money can easily solve all problems.  While all these may be true, money also causes blindness towards reality, making one think that with money, anything is possible.

Gatsby has so much money that he has no use for it.  Yet what's ironic is that he spends his time looking across the bay at another house from his beautiful mansion.  Because he has so much money, he thinks that he is able to reunite with Daisy and bring back the past.  But the reality is that he can't. Wealth's power only goes so high, and fixing the past isn't something wealth can do. Reading about Gatsby also gives the impression that he didn't live for much.  Sure he lived lavishly, but what his purpose in life and what were his accomplishments? He never got the girl, and he died at a young age. All those years of finding and waiting for Daisy goes to waste after one simple misunderstanding.

Similarly, Braddock Washington is insanely wealthy, but what does his wealth mean?  His only purpose in life is to guard the family secret, which means that he can never leave the chateau.  He becomes so consumed with his wealth that he will do what ever it takes to protect it, even if it means killing anyone who knows of it.  This greed causes him to blow up the mountain of diamond.  He
destroys all his wealth and everything he lived for just to make sure that no one else can have it.
He lived luxuriously, but without meaning.