Happy to be Old --- the Second Optional Article

Russell has once written in one of his essays to explain “Old”. In the article, he said that the young were afraid of growing old, for they were still in the most vigorous situation, desiring to make a big difference to the world. However the old shouldn’t be afraid of it, for they have lived so long and seen so many things. When I was reading the sentences, what came to me was that we needed to be happy to grow old. Happy, a thing of human’s choice during our life, is caused by the daily increasing knowledge with an “unhappy” process of growing old.

Why should we be happy to grow old? Russell, in his own opinion, gave the illusion that the process of living is one with gaining knowledge unendingly. During the long river of your life, you first vigorously flow down the mountain within the narrow banks; then the energy diminishes and the water became slow and peaceful; and at last you are absorbed by the whole human sea. Life, accompany by experiences, is a period of growing wisdom and losing vigor. Sometimes we might be confused by the process and are quite reluctant to accept the truth of being old. In contrast we are willingly receiving the knowledge we have gained through time. This “lost and found” game makes us tired, but happy at the same time.

Tiredness and happiness are always accompanied; you are gaining while you are losing. If you didn’t make any progress, you wouldn’t go through obstacles. What’s more, when you make effort, you are experiencing a hard period, during which you face an imperfect you and try to exercise yourself again and again by polishing off those shortcomings. But it is you who must choose an attitude to live. No matter what you are facing, whether it is a disease or a study problem, you gain all kinds of knowledge or experience when growing old.

So growing old is not something to be afraid of. What should attract our attention is that when growing old we need to be happy, for the knowledge we gain, and for which we will pass on to the later generations. Just be happy of growing old.

Solon or Cleisthenes: Where to Find Democracy? --- An Infromal Introduction to the Early Practices on Democracy

Many people talk about democracy, few of them knowing the origin of it. When talking about Western culture, what comes to us first are those extraordinary and valuable treasures left by ancient Hellenes and Romans. Democracy, a political form popular in modern society, was first invented by the Greeks, the founders Solon and Cleisthenes, in such golden time. Solon and Cleisthenes lived in the fifth and sixth century BC; both were leaders of the ancient Hellenes; both organized reforms beneficial to the peasants and the masses. Some say that Solon is the first founder of democracy, and Cleisthenes the second. It is true that they share a lot of similarities; however, obviously their ideas are not the same.

Solon lived in a time when tyrannical polity was still popular in Greece. Lots of tyrants using insidious or some illegal methods to grab the power of the poleis, Athens, under the influences of them, was also a polis ruled by tyrants, and Solon being one of them. Athens at that time was separated into two partisans: one is the combination of aristocrats, the other of demos. As a leader, Solon had to keep the society peaceful. So when the rule of aristocrats became too strict to the demos and the slaves, it was time for the leader to keep balance and give protection, in Solon’s poems the idea of balance frequently appearing.

Things were different during Cleisthenes’ time. After the reformation carried on by Solon, Athens came to an era of development, in the opposite the tyrannical polity diminishing. The incomplete reform brought more and more problems, especially after Solon’s death, representing a reform built by the reputation of a man failed. So Cleisthenes must find a new way to balance both sides. He chose democracy, making him the real founder of this polity. Demos were given more equality and political power because of the construction of Ten Tribes and Council of 500. The former divided the polis into 10 parts due to the places where people were, instead of the positions and blood relationships; while the latter gave the opportunity for more people to express their ideas of the polis. Hence, a democratic polity was built.

Because of the time they lived in, Solon was a tyrant while Cleisthenes an archon, and the partisans which each of them represented varied a little. Though Solon abolished debt bondage system and preserved personal freedom, it was the aristocrat’s interests that he supported and protected, as he was in the higher rank in the society. So in his opinion, to preserve personal freedom and give right to the demos meant to keep the aristocrat ruling the society still. In contrary, Cleisthenes faced a worse conflict between the lower and the upper classes. If he had not protected the rights of the demos, the society would have been in chaos. So democracy was a must. In this occasion, the passion of participating in political affairs was fully encouraged and people were active at helping the polis to be better. So Cleisthenes’ reform had a main proposal of protecting masses, different from Solon’s protecting the society ruling.

To further give a comparison between their reforms and ideas of reforms, it’s better to look at what other people recognize them as both at that time. Aristotle, known as a great philosopher, believed that Solon’s reforms “represented the beginning of democracy”, which was “friendly to demos (dēmotikōtata)”. What is more, in Herodotus’ views, the ancient authorities believed Cleisthenes was the founder of democracy, or at least the second founder. Both mentioned “founder”, however they were from two dimensions, one was for the idea Solon developed to protect the lowers, the other was for the actions Cleisthenes took to protect the lowers.

Similarities and differences always go together. Whatever the differences are, it is undoubted that Solon and Cleisthenes are two of the greatest people in our world. Founding the polity of democracy, they are also the founders of our modern society.

Harmony between Man and Nature --- the First Optional Article

We live in modern cities. We are called “civilized men” However, while we are enjoying the comfort and banal luxury of our lives, we don’t realize that we are depriving ourselves of the necessities of life. Of these necessities, the first is the harmony between man and nature.

Cherrapunjee, where the precipitation reaches the highest point in the world every year, doesn’t cause much inconvenience to people living there. The life of the individual there is first and foremost an accommodation to nature. From the moment of one’s birth, he must learn how to deal with the rains. And by the time he is grown, he must help to build bridges, which are simply made of living trees. He knows how to use nature’s giving and how to live peacefully with the creatures there without damaging the environment. The harmony between man and nature is obvious.

Therefore, it is often something confused us that some of the primitive, the barbarian and the pagan, in our arrogant minds, harmoniously make friends with nature while we "civilized" men cannot follow the natural law. What we have done cause over-pollution, endanger wildlife everywhere, and add to over-expansion of industry and urbanization.

That all men are created by Nature, and with the help of industry we have become Fortune’s favoured children. As the growth of GDP increases, the needs of the natural world, however, is ignored by the majority of human beings. What’s more, those who are ‘GDPist’ take no interest in the increasing foggy days and smoky atmosphere. Gradually, and even quite swiftly, nature takes revenge on us.

This leads to a major: what should we do to solve the problem?

The perception of the relationship between ourselves and the place we live in is of paramount significance. And a change in mind is seriously needed. By propaganda and education, the idea of protecting nature will develop an increasing popularity. Step by step, the old undue influence of ideas on environment, that the only-GDP addiction faded away in our brain, while the process of seeing nature in a new way begins. In addition, even the smallest things can help, as it did in the case of celebrating the annual "earth hour", to save energy and natural resources.

Harmony needs a long process to develop, during which we may face difficulties from the old ideas mentioned before. A change might be hard, whereas innovations are always born in changes. We are going to challenge not only our lifestyle, even something deep in our heart, and that is the evil part of human nature, the desire for unlimited satiation. So we must prepare to overcome every obstacle. Strengthen our belief, trust in nature, and trust in ourselves, that man and nature can live in harmony.

Black or White

    It was a totally American street, in the centre of New York; most of the people working here were rich and white. Skyscrapers pointed into the immense space, seeming like people screaming out with their hands up. Lavish as they were, those rich who came out of the Burberry passed by the black beggars and precisely threw a Kennedy into the tin full of the same things.

    The sun dizzily stayed in the sky and wouldn’t leave. It was six o’ clock in the evening, with the briskly fading away of the sizzling air of July.

    I took a deep breath, trying to face something might happen later. And then I decided that it was time to go home.

    I called a taxi driver on Uber and he came within 5 minutes. He was a tall, strong, white man, and said, “Hey, your standard English is so good!” I smiled politely as usual and told him that the destination was XXX, which made him feel a little bit confused. He hesitated for a second, and asked me that if I would like to repeat the destination again. I said, “XXX.” His glimpse of surprise swiftly slipped my simple, leisure wear and made a decision.

    He started the car. We didn’t talk to each other much. I stared at the CBD passing away through the glass window, which was a long time, like a ceremony, where I, the main character celebrated the escape of city life, the white city life. Cloud-kissing buildings replaced by the pastoral rural fields, I took a deep breath again, relieved---I was home.

    I paid the driver and tipped him. He was still in shock that I, a black, lived in such a big house and owned a vast area of land. I was not satisfied with the journey home, for there were still so many people who had prejudice on the color of the skin, or the fixed opinion rooting in generations during hundreds of years of American history.

    True, I am a black. However, my living style is white, what I eat was different from my other black friends, my English is standard without “Yo wassup”, and even my social status and money are not like normal blacks. But the whites don’t really accept me because of the appearance, which can’t be solved by the idea of dismissing racism. The blacks, nor accept me because I am living a better life while they are still suffering in the lowest part of this society.

Titus Kaphar, Another Fight for Remembrance, 2015. Oil on canvas. Yale University Art Gallery, Purchased with a gift from the Arthur and Constance Zeckendorf Foundation

    I always want to scream. I always feel that there is something strong deep in my heart. In one aspect I want to live a white life, but from the other I want to speak out that I am a black. Some of my rich black colleagues are also confused with the position we are in in our society.

    Every day I dream about the same thing, that me and my black siblings putting our hands up. Tearing down the white outside judged by others strugglingly, our eyes look into people's, and our black bodies are being shown.

    That how we can find a way to reconcile the opposite two parts of our life will always be a problem. And we are still searching, searching…

    I wake up from my dream. And it is three in the afternoon, I standing in front of the canvas. 

Heading Home---An Unforgettable Experience

    It was SO DARK.

    The never-ending ache in my stomach, the deadly silence in the humid summer midnight, with no one on the suburban streets, I felt a sense of ghost singing around. And I was heading home.

Cherry Orchard Street, Canterbury, Kent, England

    The dim streetlights, with tiny insects flying around, flickered. I stared at it for a while to relieve the pain; as if it was the only I should focus on. But I felt a sudden sharp ache from the stomach again, from the inside to the outside, from the belly to the muscles, from my veins to my brain, just suffering. How could I go back to my host family? Since I had been here in Canterbury for only two days, how could I adapt the life here? I was just an eleven-year-old girl. Why should I experience these things alone?

The streets in the town at night

    I squatted, grunting. The moon glimmered faintly through the mists, which was just a common night in Britain. Mom had always said that the Big Dipper could lead people home, however when I looked up into the black sky, there were nothing. Dad had always said that the earth was something you would rely on, however I could just breathe into my mouth the scent of grass growing in the mud, making me vomit.

    Whispering, whispering…… I heard some whispering. Who? Who was there? Panicked, I turned around, without finding anyone standing behind me. I listened carefully, only to find my heart beating fast. I couldn’t help trembling. I heard the trills of my voice mixing with cicadas which might hide somewhere.

The streets in the town

    Phone? Yes, I could call the secure. Fumbling in the bag for the phone, I became more and more anxious. No, nothing was there! My phone, my camera, none of which was there! I had lost them on the coach back and could never go home. Because of guilt and agony, I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I gritted my teeth, with sweat went down my back, breathed deeply and hard.

    Looking at my watch, it was 12 o’ clock in the midnight.

    I sighed, sat myself on the grass, and lied down, with empty eyes looking into the air, in despair.

Famous places of interests in the town, which was beautiful in daytime, while ghost-like at night

Skulls and Bones in Yale

    Standing in front of the tightly closed black door of “Skulls and Bones”, I couldn’t help standing still. The twittering of birds, the morning sunshine gently pooling down on my face, and the aroma of newly mown grass, all this makes me feel a sense of peace and pleasure. However, looking into the skull’s hollow eyes and  staring at each other for a while, I felt a chill climbing up my back. Nobody was there, except for me, or just maybe someone was down in the basement, watching me, and trying to prevent their “secrets” from exposure.

The building of “Skulls and Bones”
The motto of the community is,“Who was the fool, who the wise man, beggar or king? Whether poor or rich, all’s the same in death.”

    It is a normal building, so normal that it would be extremely hard for anyone to tell the difference from other buildings at Yale. However, you can still see in the style of the building the spirit Yale has been going for - the fancy of classics. This tiny little building is quite like the construction in ancient Hellene, a smaller temple, rather than a “tomb” as what the members of “Skull and Bones”call themselves. The brownish red wall outside was built of stones many years ago, quite variegated. Ivy inserting its roots into the wall, the rustling of whose leaves was so obvious, whispering into my ear with the warm June wind. The entrance of the house has rectangular pillars, of Doric order, decorating the outside scenery, and making the atmosphere very solemn.

The Symbol of the community and the hollow eyes of the skull

    Suddenly a squirrel passed before me, carrying a big pine cone, without noticing the red house, which broke the silence. I smiled and bent my knees, watching it scampering away.

The Photo of Members in the same grade

My First Impression of Yale

    “Finally here,” I said to myself and jumped off the minibus.    To avoid the scorching June sun in the early afternoon, I staggered, loaded with my suitcases, rushed to the shadows under the trees. Watching cars roaring down the road, I looked towards the other side of the street and saw the huge “Phelps Gate” open to welcome new students. Light yellowish buses waited in line outside the Gate, alongside the street, with drivers talking to each other, their backs leaning against the vehicles, waiting for the freshmen.

A street in Yale with buildings alongside

    I checked in, and saw my dorm. Being a member of Calhoun, luckily I had several roommates sharing the same room. Lying on the couch under the windows, feeling the warm wind blowing into the living room in the drowsy afternoon, I was in joy.

My Czech friend (on the right) and me

    I was so tired after the long trip that it seemed that the ha
rdest thing in the world might be to clean the room. So I decided to go sightseeing instead. I walked down the street and saw the Medieval-like buildings. The stones were enormous, quietly witnessing walkers pass by. The Gothic architecture imperially stands above me, with squared castle-like colleges nearby, The place where I would live for the next month gave me a visual shock.

    Especially when I arrived at the gym with my friends in the evening, we were amazed by the magnificent building, which made us call it a smaller “Notre Dame”. The fitness room and swimming pool are well-equipped, where  so many students and professors were doing exercises. I feel like I will be a part of them in the next few weeks.

The Payne-Whitney Gym in Yale

    “If I can meet some world-famous mastershere, that will be the happiest thing in the world!” I said.
    “The teachers here would like to talk to you. They really want you to come to them, debating, arguing, and discussing problems with them,” said the counselor who went with me.
    So let my life here begin.