Questions
Most people in school are very uninquisitive. As in, they don't care about the learning part of school, just the test taking. I've only met a few people who ask questions as much as me. Surprisingly (At least, surprising to me) most people in school will despise you for asking questions. I understand the problem with asking questions that have already been answered, but you can ask completely original and unanswered questions and hear the collective sigh of classmates; but hey, that doesn't stop me.
I haven't been one to change how I act because someone tells me they don't like it. Especially when it's as stupid of a request as "Hey, just stop asking questions because I hate learning things". Yes, maybe it's not phrased like that but that's how it's implied. I don't understand it. Why do you come to school, if not to learn?
Not to mention that it's what makes school fun in any way. Let's be honest, school isn't fun. At least, not without the right people. A good teacher or fun classmates can make any learning experience great, but when these people aren't there I ask questions to fill the spot (Usually even when these people are there as well).
Discussion
Along with questions, it seems discussion is frowned upon in school. At least, when it's not specifically suppose to happen. This is more of a gripe with the school system, than specific people. From what I've read, we used to have apprenticeships.
I don't know how effective an apprenticeship would be in today's time, but it seems like what would be the perfect education. Maybe not for today, where people are expected to know a lot more general things, but I infer that one would learn a lot more about what they aspire to become that way. Nothing better to help learning than hands on experience.
Either way, the current school model doesn't have time for in-depth discussions. Or, for that matter, in-depth questions. If you ask me, this is removing the best way to learn. But, then again, I guess now-a-days school isn't geared towards learning. At least, kindergarten through 12th grade isn't. It's more about tests, with education being secondary. This wasn't intended, and still isn't, but we've trapped ourselves into tradition.
Name
I've never really thought my name was too important (While, I think the idea of a name is important, just not the name itself). According to my parents, my name was picked with some pretty specific parameters in mind. My dad wanted a name that started with a vowel, had two syllables, and had no nick-name. My was pretty sure she heard the name Ethan in a soap opera. So, somehow, these ideas combined to create Ethan.
To me though, the reasons behind my name don't matter to me. The name doesn't make the person, the person makes the name. To me, there's not however many Ethans', there are however many individual Ethans'. Each one is a single entity, and even with the same names, the person is different. This is why I think those websites that let you search up the meaning of your name is nonsense; just because a website says your name means strong and muscular (Which, apparently, is what Ethan means; and anyone who's met me knows that's not true) doesn't mean that your strong or muscular.
Conclusion
Well, this went all over the place. It started with gripes with classmates, to gripes with the school system, to slight gripes with how people perceive names. It didn't include as much figurative language in it (That's just not my writing style) but I think that the story itself went pretty well. It's a nice amalgamation of how I currently think about a few things and, well, it is what it is.
In the end, this vignette's didn't really affect me. I mean, yes, it did bring some of my thoughts to the front of my attention, but if I'm writing about it it must have been down there all along. This project was fine, I'm usually terrible at writing anything in narrative or memoir format, preferring the informative approach; but, still, I think that I did well with what experience I have.
As for the original book, House on Mango Street, I felt like none of it reflected my life. I related to almost none of it. The stuff that happens to her is just so different from how I would have handled it and the things themselves are so crazy I just couldn't relate at all. Maybe that's disappointing, but I won't lie about how I felt about the book for a better grade. I just couldn't relate.
The theme of coming to age, while, I don't think there is a moment of coming to age. If I've ever experienced 'coming to age' then I wouldn't have noticed, because in my opinion it's something that happens over years and has many periods where it happens again. This isn't an ancient African tribe where I have to hunt a tiger to become a man, this is a First World Country where I can basically spend a lot of time growing up. In fact, it would be a waste to just spend time trying to grow up, when others in worse situations have to 'Grow Up' when their exceptionally young.
Oooooooh, and now we come to the main problem. Did I like the book? In short, no, I hated it. Completely. Long answer? A bit more complicated.
A big part of it was the writing style. I don't do figurative writing. Especially when there's this much. It's like putting on so much make-up I couldn't see the books face. You can see in my own writing style I'm a lot more... physical, I would have to say. I use things that are definite, and don't try to relate everything to everything else. I just couldn't read this book without my brain hurting from all the useless figurative writing.
Something else that I hated were the characters. Sorry, the introduction of characters. I can't tell you how many characters existed for a few chapters then were never mentioned again. It was so frustrating I just learnt to forget about new characters as soon as I read their chapter(s).
Also, the ending. I know this is hypocritical, because my writing scarcely had an ending either, but I wasn't trying to tell a full story. The author of this book was, and the ending was so disappointing. I didn't feel like anything was resolved, no problems got fixed, it was just another generic vignette. I don't know, maybe I don't like vignette's (Random thought: Doesn't vignette remind you of vinegar?) but I've already mentioned I don't like the writing style.
