Showing posts with label Betty Araya. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Betty Araya. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 4, 2020

Giant Steps Press Welcomes Two New Students to Its Internship Program


Giant Steps Press is pleased to welcome two new interns to its publishing and promotion team: Emily Rivera and Betty Araya. These undergraduates develop professional-level aptitude through learn-by-doing publishing projects with GSP co-founder Paul Kirpal Gordon. 

Ms. Rivera, a third-year senior at Hofstra University’s School of Communication, is a Public Relations major with a Photography minor. A member of the Alpha-Theta Beta sorority and its chairperson in Public Relations, she is also a member of the Yoga club; GiveKindness; SP!T, a poetry club; and WRHU, the campus three-time, Marconi-award-winning radio station where she writes, produces and broadcasts. 


Born in Queens and raised on Long Island, she brings skills in website and book design as well as marketing, interviewing, copy writing, photography and videography. Her essay, “I Dare You: Reflections on Identity,” is part of the curriculum of Writing Studies Composition 1 at Hofstra. It has been of great service for first-year, first-semester students coming to terms with their own identities as learners (https://giantstepspress.blogspot.com/2018/10/i-dare-you-reflections-on-identity-by.html).


Ms. Araya, a third-year student, is majoring in Global Studies and Journalism and minoring in Creative Writing. Born in Ethiopia and raised in the deep South, she is making her mark as the Assistant Features Editor for the Hofstra Chronicle, as a tutor at the university’s Writing Center, and as a peer teacher in the Writing Studies and Rhetoric Department. She brings skills in copy editing for Taking Giant Steps Press blog as well as interviewing authors and reviewing their works.



Her essay, “The Revolution Is Love,” is part of the curriculum of Writing Studies Composition 2 at Hofstra. It has proven to be greatly beneficial to students interpreting films by Wim Wenders, Jamie Uys, Lena Wertmuller and Nicholas Roeg (https://giantstepspress.blogspot.com/2018/10/the-revolution-is-love-20-by-betty-araya.html). More recently, she was the MC and co-producer of “Walt Whitman Meets the Great American Songbook” last Spring with GSP first’s intern Benny Gottwald.


Mr. Gottwald graduates this May. His four essays at Taking Giant Steps Press blog are part of Hofstra WSC 1 and 2 curricula, and his piece “El Chapin” has been featured in the undergraduate journal The Dangling Modifier as well as the syllabus of trans-lingual scholar Sarah Alvarez. In addition to his role at GSP, Mr. Gottwald is in the process of completing his debut novel, Looking Up, as well as his first album of original songs.



Since his introduction to GSP, Mr. Gottwald has taken on the role of Musical Director. In three campus concert performances (https://www.thehofstrachronicle.com/category/arts-andentertainment/2019/4/22/when-walt-whitman-became-a-jazz-artist) over the last three years, his insightful eye and ear to Whitman’s poetry, his band leadership as well as his arrangements of jazz standards and his own songs, have taken GSP-sponsored projects to new heights. An aspiring New York jazz musician and songwriter, Mr. Gottwald studies with Dave Lalama, a Hofstra music faculty member who has played with Buddy Rich and Stan Getz. In addition to being musically involved with GSP, Mr. Gottwald has worked as a freelance copywriter, book designer, and editor with various clients. After graduation, he is moving to Brooklyn when he will take up his diverse passions full time.

Saturday, January 25, 2020

Trading in Chains for Wings: A Close Look at WINGS OF DESIRE by Lauren Cohen





Confronting one’s past can be a terrifying experience, especially when that means reopening nearly-healed wounds that are still sore to the touch. Unfortunately, in order to find oneself, suppressing emotions is not an option. Sometimes in order to truly heal, one must dig deep into those old wounds as a way to figure out who it is they are meant to be, or at least that is the experience I have had. I am the type of person who always ran away from my past and never looked back to see how it may have been affecting me as an individual. For years, I was scared of reflecting on my life and never once did I consider the idea that there may be a reason anxiety and depression entered my life so early on. I never considered this might be why I never fully healed. Through Wim Wenders’ beautiful 1987 film, Wings of Desire, I am now able to realize that I have allowed my past to become a chain that is holding me back. With that, I have also been able to use four characters from the movie to identify the exact chains that I have attached to myself and begin the process of breaking free from them, turning them into newly found wings. Through this, I have been able to turn my wounds to scars, scars that let me know I was hurt, but that I survived. 





  1. The Man on the Ledge



Towards the middle of the movie, Cassiel confronts a young man sitting on the ledge of a building. The man is contemplating suicide, unable to remedy his broken heart. Cassiel attempts to ease the mind of the man and try to prevent him from jumping, but to no avail (Wenders 1:09:01). The man could not feel Cassiel helping him. He could not feel any ease to the pain he felt and would do anything possible to feel relief. While watching the movie, I deeply resonated with this man.



One area of my life that I am never afraid to discuss is my mental health. I am very blunt with the fact that I have severe anxiety and mild depression. However, I often leave out one piece of my mental health. I do not mean to leave it out, but I would rather people not know the dark thoughts that often control my mind (and still sometimes do to this day).



Unknown to almost every individual in my life, I understood what that man on the ledge was going through because I nearly took my own life; the only difference was that I was able to feel my angel trying to save me. I did not know it at the time, but looking back, I now know that an angel, like Cassiel, was with me in my room. There is always an angel out there trying to help a suffering individual, but it is just a matter of feeling them and knowing that they are there to make the person feel less alone. Looking back on my moment of darkness, I can identify the exact thoughts that were whirling around in my young mind. Now I understand why they were there in the first place.



March 20, 2013. I remember that night as if it were yesterday. Like the man in the movie, I thought: “This time I’m doing it. Funny I’m so calm” (Wenders 1:07:30). It was around six o’clock and I had just gotten back from a day at Bay Academy, my middle school where I experienced the worst cyber and verbal bullying of my life. On that particular day, my depressive thoughts consumed me. They were telling me how it was my fault that my family nearly lost our house just barely a year and a half prior; how I was the reason that my parents were constantly yelling at each other; that I was to blame for having “friends” in elementary school who abandoned me and began to make fun of me; that it was my fault that any bad event had occurred in my life up to that point. As I sat in my room bawling my eyes out, hands trembling, barely able to breathe, I looked at my dresser in front of me, where I saw the razor from a broken sharpener pleading to be used. And I heard the voice in my head telling me:  “Do it; End the pain.” My mind was racing, thinking similar words to the man on the ledge: “All these thoughts. I’d really rather not think anymore” (Wenders 1:08:53). I was ready to say goodbye to my pain for good, but then I felt an angelic-like presence. It was a presence I had not felt for nearly 7 years, as it reminded me of my father’s mother who had passed away when I was 6 years old. She wrapped me up in a hug and told me that I would be okay. That I needed to choose to live. And so, I did.



As KP stated, “You are not ready to face an angel. They will rip you apart and leave you unstable and with a homeostatic upset" (Gordon, Class Discussion). I was terrified of what this presence was. I had never felt anything like it before. But I somehow felt safe again. I knew that I had to keep going, even if it caused me tremendous pain. I understood why “Wenders celebrates life by telling the audience to become proactive and live” (Orellana, par. 4).  I now comprehend the reason for my lowest point. Unlike the man in the movie who was heartbroken, I was caught up in my past and had allowed it to consume me. It held me down like an anchor while also holding me back like a chain. It took until 2019, six years later, to come to terms with the fact that it had nothing to do with not being “enough,” but had everything to do with being stuck in the past and feeling lost. It had to do with emotions, not truth. Somehow it is comforting to know that there are other people in this huge world who experience this feeling every day. Do I wish I could take their pain away as well? Of course, but for now, I will have to suffice with the knowledge that I can help ease their pain and work with others to dig into why these thoughts are there. With that in mind, I am now able to dig deeper into the why for my feeling lost and try to understand it.





  1. The Trapeze Artist, AKA Marion



Marion is a French woman who travels to Germany to be a part of the circus, the one thing that she loves the most in life. Ironically, it is like a safety net for her, despite not having one during her act. However, towards the beginning of the movie, it is revealed that the circus she is a part of will be having its last performance that night as they have run out of money. Knowing that the circus is closing leaves Marion feeling broken, depressed, and even suicidal, leading her to consider an “accidental” sabotage for her performance later that night (Wenders 28:45). She goes back to her trailer and thinks about her future; she considers going back to her waitressing job, while also considers the fact that she is “Like a small animal, lost in the woods,” who is left wondering, “Who are you? I don’t know anymore” (Wenders 30:19). She feels as though the one thing that brought her joy in life is now gone forever. However, she does use music as an escape from this hurt and confused feeling.



However, it can be seen in Marion’s eyes that she feels as though her life’s purpose and passion is gone. She says, “My circus dream, souvenirs for 10 years from now” (Wenders 28:01). Her lifelong dream is fading away right in front of her eyes and she does not know what to do with the little pieces of her that are left behind. For me, these words resonated on a deeper level, as I myself have known the pain of losing a dream that I had for a long time. Slowly but surely, I could feel my so-called dream slipping away, leaving me in what felt like a confusing maze.



Two years ago, much like Marion after the circus closed, I began to feel lost. It all began when one of the most important people in my life, my grandmother, passed away. She always did her best to make sure I felt loved, even though she never directly said it to me. The phrase “I love you” was not freely spoken. However, through her actions and words, I could feel that all she wanted for me was to be happy and safe. That is why when she moved onto the spiritual world, for the first time in my life I felt completely vulnerable. I had no clue what to do in order to fight for myself. I felt terrified and confused for the rest of 2017 and into the beginning of 2018. However, my pain reached a peak in February of 2018, a month after I had committed to Hofstra University. I felt as though I was not living the life I wanted, and this made me feel even more scared and dazed than when my grandmother passed. Sure, I still wanted to attend Hofstra, but I realized that the career path I chose was not the one I wanted. Unfortunately, this was a path that I had envisioned since I was 12 years old. Because I had been on that journey for six years, I was terrified to deviate from it, even though I knew it was not my dream I was chasing. I realized that I had been “carnally guided” by my family and society, just so I did not lose “the approval of those who had little concern for my well-being” (Araya, par. 2). I was also desperately trying to keep my family’s approval when it came to my career choice. I was stuck in Lawrence Kohlberg’s stage 3 of development where I “act[ed] in ways to avoid disapproval” (Amidon, par. 8) in order to prevent my family from abandoning me. However, as the beginning of college approached and the summer came to an end, I realized that I had to break free from the place I was stuck in. The only problem with it was realizing why I was stuck: the fear of my family abandoning me again. And although it is terrifying to confront it, I know now that if I am to find my own path, the path to my true passion, I need to break free from not only my family’s expectations, but the chains placed on me by them and my past in general.




  1. The Angel, AKA Damiel



For as long as I can remember, I was never “enough” to my family. They never showed me love the way other families do; they never allowed me to be my true self, and would constantly berate me for being “different.” I used to be a very bubbly, outgoing, talkative, funny and sassy child, but I was constantly yelled at for being all the things that made me me. I was told it was somehow “wrong” to be positive and an overly friendly person who saw the best in everyone. Even worse, I was never allowed to follow the passions I wanted. Although I do love to sing, act, and dance, it was never something that I truly wanted. My parents introduced it to me and would do whatever it took to keep me there, even if it meant keeping me away from my real love: film. Despite barely being able to afford all the different dancing, acting, and vocal lessons, my parents would push me to do it while telling me I was never trying hard enough or that I would never make it. And, unfortunately, I believed them. I still remember believing that singing was helping my anxiety issues. Although there are brief moments where it brings me peace, I soon realized that music overall was actually worsening the anxiety. I was in fear that I was never going to be “enough” for my parents. Growing up, they would often yell at each other about not being good enough individuals or trying hard enough in life, leading me to wonder: If my parents were not enough for each other, how could I be enough for them?



Soon though, I realized that, as Jim Adkins wrote for his band, Jimmy Eat World’s 2001 smash hit, “The Middle,” “It doesn't matter if it’s good enough for someone else” (Jimmy Eat World) because it only had to be enough for me. With this realization came another one: I was just like Damiel. Both of us felt as though we were not living the lives we desired and we both wanted to gain new experiences. The difference, however, is that Damiel wishes to be like the humans that he has been protecting for eternity, while I wish to be the person I have dreamed about being my entire life. Damiel has his heart set on Marion throughout the film, pleading to do more than love her from afar. However, we see him discuss with Cassiel how he is “fed up with [his] spiritual existence” (Wenders 13:24) and how he wants to have the ability of “coming home after a long day to feed a cat like Philip Marlowe” (Wenders 14:29). He wants to participate in the activities that he observes every day. He feels as though he has “Been on the outside long enough . . . Absent long enough” (Wenders 1:04:38) and wants to be a part of the history that he watches go by every day. He longs for the ability to love and feel like those that he protects. Although Damiel and I are experiencing different forms of longing, I understand what it is like to feel as though the life, spiritual or physical, that one has been provided is not the life that was meant for them. I have a desire for so much more than what was told or given to me and it is comforting to see that even an angel can have a desire for those things as well.



I long for the day when I can freely talk to someone without the fear that I am a burden or that they will think of me as a “weirdo.” I yearn to be able to talk to my parents without the underlying fear that they will be upset with me for pursuing a career that I want. And most of all, I dream of living in a society and a family that chooses “a power to join” (O’Malley, par. 10) as opposed to “a power to prevent” (O’Malley par. 6). Like Damiel, I want to be able to be the person I want to be and I have to find myself before anything else. I also know that to meet these goals I have to take a risk and get out of my comfort zone in order to become who I want to be just like Damiel did when he gave up his eternal life (Wenders 1:31:30).



So far, I have been able to stand up to my parents and have proved them wrong on their belief that I would not be able to take care of myself at college. I have also been able to fight for what I want and can proudly say that I am finally a film major, even if that means I do not have my family’s full support. I am breaking free of the chains that have been placed on me by learning to accept my past instead of running from it. I am breaking free of the chain that hid who I really am: a funny, friendly, kind-hearted, somewhat opinionated, overly caring girl with a slight attitude from Brooklyn who gives more than she gets, but also knows what she deserves. I am finally able to see the colors and bright lights that have been hidden from me just as Damiel finally saw color for the first time in his life. Both our lives were lived in a black and white world, and it finally is transforming into a colorful, whimsical world.




Although it has been a tough battle, and the war is far from over, I know I am not alone. I have my best friend, Jacklyn, fighting with me and cheering me on. And I know that my grandmother is standing by my side, like the angels in the movie, pushing me towards my end goal. I have been able to create my own community where the feeling of alienation does not exist and where anyone who needs love will receive that love. The wings to becoming my newly found person are close, but I also know that before I can have them, and in order to fly off to whoever I am to become or get my suit of armor like Damiel (Wenders 1:32:19), I must first look deeper into my past and my present to appreciate what life is truly about.





  1. The Dying Man on the Bridge



Something that everybody says is important is to appreciate the little things in life. These little things are the beautifully colored trees in the fall or a summer breeze. They are the joys of hanging out with a group of friends or even falling in love. Although I realize that other people will think of it differently, I have learned to appreciate these little idiosyncrasies of life. Comforted by Damiel, the man who is dying after getting in a motorcycle accident begins to remember these little pieces of life, “The Southern Cross. The Far East. The great North. The Wild West . . . . Stromboli. The old houses of Charlottenburg. Albert Camus. The morning light. The eyes of the child.” (Wenders 36:48). Seeing him remember these “unimportant” aspects of life has caused me to look back on my past and observe little moments that have made my life worth living.



As he is leaning on the curb slowly losing his life, he considers the things he should have done. For instance, he thinks. “Karin, I should have told you,” (Wenders 36:22) and how “It can’t be that simple, I’ve still so much to do” (Wenders 36:26). He continues to think of the things he could have done in the past until Damiel beings to whisper in his ear all the little things that have made his life grand. It is with this that I began to see my past differently.



When considering my past, I see these little moments that I would always forget because of the amount of pain caused by bigger incidents. These moments I have found, however, have a far more and deeper meaning than I let on; for instance, the joy that I had when I first found out I got into Hofstra. It was a December morning in my English class and I knew that I would find out sometime that week, so I let curiosity get the best of me, and I checked my Hofstra portal. I was not expecting the “Welcome to the Pride” to pop up on my iPhone and I began to freak out from joy, literally falling out of my chair because of the excitement. Finding out about Hofstra would always slip my mind due to the pain I still felt from losing my grandmother earlier that year. I was still hurting, so my memory of this exciting and pivotal moment was hindered by that of sorrow. But now the moment is brighter and I am able to appreciate it more.



One of the most touching moments I am very fond of now is a panic attack I had after an acting lesson in preparation for my upcoming high school auditions. I was in the car with my father and my best friend Jacklyn, after a rough rehearsal. But me being me, I did not show that I was upset nor that I felt like a failure. However, as we drove off, I broke into tears and began having a full-fledged panic attack. It would be the first of many times that Jacklyn would see me in this state. The reason I love this little moment so much is that it made me realize that she accepts me for who I am. She has been the one person since that moment who I know will always be there for me when it feels like no one else will be. And it is with the help of my best friend that I am no longer scared to break free of my past and my chains if it means becoming a person that I am happy with.



I know it is a long journey, and I am only at the beginning, but I am excited to see the person that comes out on the other side. Since last semester, KP has inspired me to be the person that I want to be and not a person that someone else wants me to be. Through his help, my best friend, some therapy, and Wenders’ movie, I am finally able to say that I am free. I am no longer held down from the pressures I have let control my life for the past 19 years. I have been spared of the societal pressure that has consumed my thoughts for as long as I can remember. I am open to being a person who is happy with herself again and is unafraid to feel. I have realized that I need to live for me, and not for anyone else. I will always be a person who cares for others before herself, but I realize now that before I can help others, I have to help myself. I am ready for a bloody battle or two, but if it means winning the war to be myself, then so be it. I am finally free to show my battle wounds and show others that, if I survived, then others can too. As my favorite band, All Time Low said, I have to “Hold on tight, [because] this ride is a wild one” (All Time Low, “Missing You”), but I am ready for the ride. I am ready to find me. I have accepted my past, learned to love it, and am learning how to live with wings instead of chains. 


Works Cited
All Time Low, “Missing You,” Future Hearts, John Feldmann, 2015
Amidon, Joel, et al. “Kohlberg's Stages of Moral Development.” Lumen
Araya, Betty. “The Revolution Is Love.” Taking Giant Steps, 9 Oct. 2018, 
Gordon, Paul Kirpal. Class Discussion. 24, Apr. 2019
Jimmy Eat World, “The Middle,” Bleed American, Mark Trombino, 2001
O’Malley, Michael. “Comfortably Numb with an Infected Humanity.” Taking Giant Steps, 31 
Orellana, Roger. “Why Not Suicide? Reflections on Wenders’ Wings of Desire.’” Taking Giant 
Wings of Desire. Dir. Wim Wenders. Perf. Bruno Ganz, Otto Sander, Solveig Dommartin. Road
        Movies Film Production, 1987. 

Tuesday, October 9, 2018

The Revolution Is Love by Betty Araya





I remember so vividly the day my naïve, fifteen-year-old mind woke up to the awful truth that I was merely a product of socialization. My style was that of the photoshopped model, whose insincere smile plastered on the cover of the catalogue fooled me into claiming it as my own. At school I chose to show the world a person who was exactly like my classmates, and the opinions I claimed as my own were an act of rebellion against my parents. I kept finding ways of denying my true identity. It was not only the corrupt bureaucracy I was rejecting; it was my culture as well. Smothered by the values I forced myself to adopt, I felt cornered in what Lawrence Kohlberg calls Stage Three, the Good Girl level of moral development: “People make decisions based on what actions will please others, especially authority figures and other individuals with high status (e.g., teachers, popular peers). They are concerned about maintaining relationships through sharing, trust, and loyalty, and they take other people’s perspectives and intentions into account when making decisions” (Kohlberg, par. 3.) At fifteen the light went off, and a seed was planted in the back of my mind I could not shake for the years that followed. I asked myself, “How can I grow my own value rather than have it be determined by those who do not know me?” Weeds of self-doubt prevented that seed of self-determination from sprouting. For three years, I continued to live without sunlight. 



As I entered adulthood, the darkness was encompassing my heart, slowly leaving me a shell of who I once was.  It was not until that hole in my chest I fought to fill with relative things grew larger than my entire being, and I was sinking weighless in my own misery, I realized I was being fooled. My unexplainable, unbearable, unholy sadness clouded me from my values, sense of self, and motivation. Instead I was being carnally guided, ignoring what I needed, and chasing what gained me the approval of those who had little concern for my well being. When my suffering proved to be greater than me, I humbled myself before the one I spent my adolescent years ignoring. I asked God for understanding regarding my life purpose as well as who I am. The response came quicker than I ever dreamed imaginable. He broke the shackles keeping me prisoner to western civilization as I began my journey to reach LK-6. He helped me begin my “walkabout” to reach what Lawrence Kohlberg calls a post-conventional morality (Stage 6) in which our behavior is based on universal principles of love and compassion that transcend mutual benefit (Kohlberg, par. 6). Like the 1971 Nicholas Roeg film of the same name, a walkabout in Australian Aboriginal society is a rite of passage in which an adolescent male undergoes a journey into the Outback. He lives in the wilderness for a period as long as six months to make the spiritual and traditional transition into manhood (Wikipedia, par. 1). I set off on my own walkabout, but unlike The Girl, the female protagonist in the film, I refused to accept a life of discontent. I was someone’s daughter and someone’s sister, and I was in preparation to be some man’s wife. There had to be more, and there was. Love. Unconditional love.



The question “who is God” is one I will never understand. His ranking as the most high keeps a distance between He and I must respect. The question “what is God” however is simple. My God is love; that is, a loved not based on conditions or mutual benefit. Little did I know that this realization was to lead me to interpret Lena Wertmuller’s highly controversial Swept Away in a new light. Viewing the toxic exchanges between Rafaella and Gennarino, the film’s male and female protagonists, it is easy to find justification for our own pitfalls or to think we could never compare to the despicable way they treat one another. But are any of us any different? When contemplating the various social issues raised in this film, one might be quick to blame gender roles or social status. However, it would be unfair to impose blame on Raffaella, a wealthy, beautiful socialite or to judge the oppressed communist Gennarino for the evil they unleash. Men and women who are quick to point a finger at the other party are all too often afraid to look within.


Suppose there was a man, forty years old, living in downtown Birmingham, Alabama. Suppose this man works in a factory that makes airplane parts, making just above minimum wage, working over fifty hours a week. Suppose this man has been receiving public assistance, struggling to make ends meet, unable to get a white color job due to his criminal record caused by an unfair system desperate to contain the “rabble.” Suppose this African-American was given the opportunity to switch lives with another man, one who comes from old money, lives in a mansion, and was born with a silver spoon. Could one confidently argue the black man would not switch lives? We like to hate the white man for his privilege. We burn with fury when we think of his sports car and designer suits. We are filled with rage cashing our four-figure paychecks whilst he cashes his five-figure amount. We tremble with resentment at the notion he will always have the upper hand. Until the day that marginalized communities, colonized nations, and natives forced to bow to their conquerer can assert, given the opportunity, that they would not switch positions with their social superior, the problem will never be solved. The problem is the values so many of us hold: power over loyalty, hidden agendas over sincerity, money and everything else over love. What this world is missing is a love so high it reaches the heavens. A love so wide we can never get around it. A love that will never run out. A love that does not distinguish between the wealthy and the poor. A love that does not see the difference between political parties or skin color. A love offered to Christians, atheists, Buddhists and Muslims all the same. A love that replaces “because” with “in spite.” An unconditional love.


The issues that Rafaella and Gennarino act out depict the warped definition of love they practice. Almost all of my relationships in the past followed a similar tragic pattern. I would drag the pain I could no longer keep buried and project it on every new connection I made. I would habitually suppress who I really am and continuously question if the love the other person had for me was real. This maddening doubt would continue until the day my pride took over, and I would exit the life of that person to avoid them inevitably hurting me. Like shipwrecked Rafaella and Gennarino, we all too often refuse to turn the other cheek in any given situation and allow our hidden narcissism to take over by blaming the world for our loneliness instead of looking within. We watch films like Swept Away not as a wake-up call but as a way to justify our unhealthy and painful behavior. The fear the two lovers feel causes them to continuously hurt one another. If Genarinno had been able to forget about how his masculinity had been tested by the wealthy, he could have loved another. If Rafaella had been able to ask for forgiveness and humble herself, she could have loved another. If one of them had put their own agenda and past betrayals away for just a second and believed they were worthy of true affection, they could have loved each other. It is the downfall of so many couples. We engage in relationships out of our own selfish desire not to be alone. We are so focused on being accepted that we never show who we truly are. How can you expect someone to truly love you when they don’t truly know you? Then, out of fear that the love isn't real, we sabotage it in search of something more. We search for it in a tub of ice cream and develop an unhealthy relationship with food. We search for it in drugs for just a moment of solace from the emptiness we endure: Until we find the next man or women who says all the right things, and suddenly we don’t feel so alone and we have a source for validation. Until we find ourselves in a loveless marriage built around an image we fight to uphold, in a household we hate, staring at a reflection we don’t recognize. Until, like The Girl in Walkabout, we feel remorse for letting go of the life we could have had, that moment of freedom swimming in a lake with the people who actually love us. Or until, like the lovers in Swept Away, our pride and self-hatred take over as we curse the ones who we secretly yearn for and submit ourselves to the only sign we can believe in---the dollar sign. Until we learn what love actually means.


Where many see love as a noun, something they feel, I’ve been taught to view love as an action verb. We must love people when they wrong us. We must love them when they betray us. We must love them when they lie to us. We must love them when they beat us. We must love them through their sins and soften their hearts and compel it to open so that one day, the truth is what rolls off their tongues; so that one day, they dedicate their souls to protecting us where they once hurt us. We must love them even when they don’t deserve it because nobody can ever earn the love they deserve. Love can never be given because of what someone has to offer you. Love is a choice one makes for the benefit of another, never for oneself. That’s how it becomes unconditional. St. Paul, author of a majority of the New Testament, wrote: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away” (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 NIV). There was a reason all the things I fought to fill my heart with never satisfied me. This love was what I was looking for, but it's true what they say: you cannot love anyone until you love yourself.


When I began learning of a virtuous love, I also learned I must direct that love inward. I moved from Ethiopia to America when I was four years old. Ethiopia, one of the earliest civilizations, is more known in the west for poverty than its overwhelming communal society. I moved to a melting pot of different cultures with little preparation for the culture shock I faced. Here was a society that stresses individualism in a country that defines one's value by one’s ability to contribute to the federal reserve rather than who they are as person. During my early years, I was not striving to find myself, but rather to paint over all that made me me. I wanted to paint my caramel-colored skin, distinct features, and curls to match the white girl who sat next to me in elementary school. The white girl who snickered on the first day when the teacher called out my full name. The white girl who insisted on touching my hair at lunch, only to further emphasize my difference. The white girl who was never ridiculed for who she is because at the end of the day, America was hers and I was the alien who chose to invade. To make matters worse, we added social media to the mix. Soon I was not only striving for the approval of my peers but hundreds of false social media personalities. They worked tirelessly to paint their lives as perfect and to ridicule others, which only revealed their own insecurities. I was sucked into a web of lies, literally, without knowledge of the self-loathing that went into a smiling selfie which insisted that life was perfect, and left me wondering why mine was not. It left me asking daily, “Why am I not perfect?” Then I realized I am. Every girl dreams of being a princess, and the only qualification is having a father who is a king. Well, my Father is a king. He is the King of kings, and the Lord of lords. He is God. I realized it is okay if this world does not love me because God does. Uncovering the lie of “being less than” opened a world of opportunities. The opportunity to eat that extra slice of cake because I am not defined by my figure. The opportunity to pass on going out Friday night because I am not defined by my social life. It gave me the freedom to stop pretending to be someone I am not and to accept myself for who I am.  In Wim Wenders’ classic 1987 film, Wings of Desire, the children see and feel the comforting presence of the angels. Through inner inquiry I discovered what sparked my deep lack of self-acceptance. It was the little girl in me who was told she was wrong by other little girls who did not know any better. So I forgive them, too, because they could not feel the presence of the benevolent force of love either.


Realizing the detrimental impact of a lack of self-love allowed me to have compassion for those who previously rejected me. Receiving the unconditional love of Christ inspired me to work to recognize hate is often a reflection of pain. They reject me because they too have been rejected, or they reject themselves. Human beings are like trees. To see what grounds the tree, look at the roots. Morals come from how deeply the roots of our being are placed in the ground we come from. A lack of morals is not caused by the individual, but a lack of sturdy roots. As a tree grows, the rings around the trunk tell its story. The first ring might look normal. Most humans start out life that way. Many forget to acknowledge what abnormality can do to a person’s identity or their roots. Who would have been there to plant them? The rings on a tree expose where lightning may have struck at the same same spot over and over again, revealing why the tree’s trunk and roots may have been permanently hurt. A lack of family can leave one without knowledge of a home, and an unstable household can leave a child with a misconception of family. A disability can cause one to see oneself at a disadvantage. Abuse can cause one to mistrust those who attempt to care. Bullying can generate a feeling of hate in a child, a hate not only directed at the bully but also themselves. All trees have rings, and all people have a story. Loving myself and understanding where my weaknesses come from helps me to understand why others have those weaknesses as well. I learned to love others despite the scars this world has caused and that has manifested into a character flaw. Instead of cutting down every tree with a damaged trunk, let us save as many as we can. Let us shower each other with love and remember our perennial opportunity to heal and grow.


In Jamie Uys’ mockumentary 1980 film allegory, The Gods Must Be Crazy, the bushmen of the Kalahari Desert graciously accept the life they have been given and live in harmony with one another. They have no purpose for laws because there is no crime (Uys, 0.02:47).  Unfortunately, six hundred miles south lives the western civilization mindset of the colonized, industrialized, and dehumanized. When a Coca Cola bottle is thrown from an airplane, the bushmen find it and interpret it as a gift from the Gods. This unnatural object soon brought devastation to the bushman, as industrialization has brought to western civilization. They immediately became obsessed with a material not necessary to their life or inner growth: an object we know to be man made. When they began to have conflict, one brave man set off on a mission to throw the “evil thing” off the edge of the world. What the bushmen see as “evil” is not one another, but anything that causes them to lose peace among themselves. When the opportunity for divide stirred among them, they went, quite literally in their eyes, to the ends of the world to eliminate it. There is no “us” or “them,” only a we. This mindset is our way out.


By contrast to the bushmen, The Girl in Walkabout and the couple in Swept Away were so caught up in having the upper hand that they did not realize they were giving up the one thing they craved. They wanted so desperately to find a peace that could satisfy them. Gennarino tried to claim it with power, Rafaella with wealth, and The Girl in Walkabout with status. I learned to find it in unconditional love. I let go of what was owed to me, realizing nothing was owed to me. I stopped trying to right every wrong, once accepting when acting in love, one has no need to keep a record of wrongs. Christ was crucified for the sake of my salvation. This ultimate act of love relieves myself of the burden of being victim and judge.


It would be difficult to convince seven billion people of the truth that has brought peace and happiness into my life—God is real. What I strive to do is much more difficult. I plan on tearing down the shrine western civilization has built to the dollar sign, which may as well be the most widely practiced religion in America. I plan on restoring hope in the hearts of those who have lost faith in their neighbors and to love them as they love themselves. I plan on saving as many people from jumping off the edge of a building as angel Damiel did in the opening scenes of Wings of Desire because it was done for me. Christ saved me from the false faith I was onced convinced was waiting at the bottom, as so many are. He provided a comforting hand on my shoulder, and a weapon only to be described as blind faith, to remind me of my goodness. “Tell me who your God is, and I’ll tell you who you will become.” Christ was my savior. Love can be everyone's savior. First we love ourselves. Then we love the world.



Works Cited


Doorey, Marie. “Lawrence Kohlberg.” Encyclopædia Britannica , Encyclopædia


Britannica, Inc., 11 Mar. 2016, www.britannica.com/biography/Lawrence-Kohlberg .




Roeg, Nicholas. Walkabout . Twentieth Century Fox, 1971. Youtube.




Uys, Jamie. The Gods Must Be Crazy . New Realm, 1980. Youtube.




“Walkabout.” Wikipedia , Wikimedia Foundation, 16 Aug. 2018,

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walkabout.



Wenders, Wim. Wings of Desire . Perf. Bruno Ganz and Solveig Dommartin. Road

Movies, 1987



Wertmüller, Lena. Swept Away--by an Unusual Destiny in the Blue Sea of August . Perf.
Mariangela Melato and Giancarlo Giannini. Medusa Distribuzione S.R.L., 1974. YouTube.