the first five years

Recently, I was required to read Edith Wharton's The House of Mirth for my American Literature class. The book follows the character Lily Bart, a smart, coy, single woman who is conflicted between her desire for love, and need for money.  Essentially, Wharton is writing about society's expectations of women and the lack of opportunity available to them in the 1890s. That's a lot of words. During our class discussion of the novel, the theme of happiness came up multiple times.  We discussed what the definition of happiness might be and I came to the conclusion that everyone's definition is different. Happiness could mean freedom, independence, love, spirituality, health, family ; the list is endless. It made me start to think about what my person definition of happiness is. To me, happiness is purpose, or rather, having purpose. I am happiest when I am changing lives, more specifically when I am teaching. I am happiest when I am sharing knowledge ...

I live in a family of nine; seven children and two parents.  My place in this line is first, leaving me with six younger siblings.  Being the eldest of such a large family, I have felt a sense of responsibility for my siblings from a very young age.  I want them to be happy and healthy in mind, body, and soul. Recently, I have begun to realize what an impossible feat this really is, especially for my sisters.  Maria 14, Melissa -10, and Melena-8 are all growing up in a world where they are demanded to meet impossible standards that are based on physicality.  The definition of beauty that they are learning to model is unrealistic and alarming and as I paged through one of my favorite fashion magazines, I had to come to terms with the problems that this situation poses. Now, more than ever, women are being bombarded with images of perfection: weight standards, hair color, ethnicity, eye color, clothing.  Although the awareness in this...

In addition to being a writer, I consider myself an avid reader.  All of that "intellectual opinion," "educated self-discovery" stuff that I wrote about yesterday, I meant it.  The more you read, the more you think, the more you think, the more you learn.  Every day, I try to take in and retain as much information as I possibly can, and I think the most entertaining way to do this is by reading .    The biggest problem I have with this philosophy is that there is simply too much to read. Newspapers, magazines, classic novels, young adult books (for all you teachers out there), non-fiction; there is an endless amount of material available.  One "solution" to this problem is to simply read as much as we possibly can.  As soon as we finish a book, article, or magazine, pick up the next one and move right along.  But I think that this "solution" makes the problem bigger. In order to really understand what we are reading or expe...

            "After you turn twenty-two, you have nothing to look forward to."             "Things are boring after your twenty-second birthday."      "You really have to start being an adult." "Now you have to be responsible." I know I'm not the only one who has heard at least two of these comments before.  And how depressing is it to constantly hear that our life is over, that we are officially "old?" There are quite a few stages that we pass through to become adult women, and apparently, twenty-one is the "final step." On our thirteenth birthday, we are considered a teenager and enter the category of "young adult."  We are legally allowed to watch PG-13 movies ( FINALLY ) and this usually marks some unpleasant biological changes as well (if you catch my drift). Turning sixteen is the marker of a young girls' coming ...