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Writing Seeing: Open City (1)

What sense can one expect readers to make of the opening words of Open City? What speaker can hope to convey any meaning with words that flow out from a coordinating conjunction? “And so,” the spea…

Followed by: https://danieldaviswood.com/2014/05/30/writing-seeing-open-city-2/

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Layers, Top to Bottom: Orange, Hollywood, Highways, Google Earth

Text: A Microremix of Manzanar

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Approaches to Journalistic Analysis — A Comparison

As a group we’ve tasked ourselves with developing a meaningful and reliable method of comparing the nature and effects of the content presented on news sites. As individuals we each have our own unique, discrete theories about how this can or should be done. I, for example, tend to be more text-oriented, and to search for meaning by analyzing structure and key phrases or categories of story. (Note that “meaning,” for our purposes, can be considered synonymous with “sway” or “tilt” or “bias,” or whatever else one might want to call the subjective disparities between different news stories’ narratives). 

In an effort to display how this method might be useful, I’ll attempt a shorthand analysis of the Las Vegas Shooting using only these points of data. 

Before beginning, however, a few points must be made. The question will always remain: is it more effective to analyze radical examples of websites in an effort to make distinctions clear (E.G. HuffPost vs. Breitbart), or to focus on the most-read sites in the pursuit of utilitarian relevance (E.G. CNN and NYTimes, the most read news sites in the US). For the purposes of this example, a reconciliation of both efforts will be made; analysis of the Las Vegas Shooting will be restricted to the top fifty news sites in the United States, but only the most disparate few, or the ones that, in comparison, will very distinctly highlight the affects of representation on narrative. In so doing, it is acknowledged that the ulterior goal is to make theoretical claims about the ways in which news events may be manipulated by representation (as opposed to offering a survey of common coverage, which may or may not be meaningful). 

Now, as an example of structure summary, consider the following NYTimes coverage of the Las Vegas Shooting, which is derived from the front-page article posted on the day of the attack: 

1) Narrative description of chaos

-“It dawned on people when they heard screams… saw bloodied victims collapse… trampling”

-“Relatives and friends tried to reach their loved ones”

2) Summary of confirmed data

-“…at least 59 people killed…and 527 injured”

3) Description of weaponry

-“The police said they found 23 firearms…[which] may have been modified to make them fully automatic.”

4) Victim Anecdote

-“There was blood pouring everywhere,” she said 

5) Further data: identification of shooter as Stephen Paddock

6) Consideration of ties to ISIS

7) Quote from President Trump

“an act of pure evil”

8) Correspondence between Nancy Pelosi & Paul Ryan

-“Study and report back common sense legislation to help end this crisis.” (her)

9) Discussion of previous mass shootings, gun violence, and general public safety

11) Eyewitness accounts

-Final Sentence: “It wasn’t until we got there and locked the door behind us that we felt safe… That was the first time I really breathed.”

There is a lot to unpack here. To begin, let us consider gun control as a polarizing and emotional topic on which language and structure may heavily influence the conclusions made by readers; the issue is one on which the Times is rather reliably vocal about. Indeed, on the day of this shooting, an opinion article was posted titled, “Another Reason We Need Gun Control”. What is important, though, is that the Times maintains a rather neutral stance, despite these implicit favorings. All straightforward defenses of gun control come in the forms of opinions written by outside sources, and occasionally are supplemented by discrete antithetical argument pieces.  How, then, as a piece purporting to be an objective retelling of events, may this article put forward an unsaid, secondary argument on gun control? Intentional, or unintentional, the fact remains: the way these events are presented will likely influence the opinions and emotions of thousands of readers. See above. The article opens with a description of violence that could have easily been drawn from a Tom Clancy novel. It begins emotionally rather than factually; the number of killed comes after a violent, emotional “hook” (because, again, it is hard to argue that the Times is subtly putting forth an argument; the focus here is improving journalistic integrity, not necessarily attacking journalists. It’s just as likely that having a hook is tradition, and may be found in all publications’ articles, and therefore is not necessarily a power move on the part of the Times). It is hard not to notice, however, that any political discussions/considerations are bookended by accounts of violence or anecdotes from victims. The two seem carefully woven together. 

Let us consider, now, a Breitbart article. Oh boy. 

In Breitbart’s day-of tentpole article, emotional language is excised from the coverage, and political points are more hamfistedly made. Further, it is not structures so much as it consists of brief twitteresque updates, posted on the night of the attack. It begins with...

1) Factual summary

A gunman opened fire on a country music concert outside the Mandalay Bay casino in Las Vegas, Nevada, on Sunday evening. 

2) Depiction of victims as patriots

Country music stars Big & Rich performed “God Bless America” during their set at the country music festival, just an hour before gunfire rang across the plaza. The footage shows thousands of fans holding their cell phones aloft — thousands of lights in the night sky — and singing along.

3) Discussion of weaponry used

4) Official report of death count and discussion of victim-aid

5) Coverage of patriotic support, or lack thereof, across nation

On ESPN’s Monday Night Football, the entire Washington Redskins squad stood for the national anthem. Most of the Kansas City Chiefs did as well.

Two members of the Chiefs, linebacker Ukeme Eligwe and cornerback Marcus Peters, sat for the anthem. Peters was promptly burned by the Redskins’ Terrelle Pryor, Sr. for a touchdown inside the first three minutes of the game.

6) Reposted video coverage from Fox News, CBS News, and ABC News

7) Three reposted tweets from reporters relaying facts about shooter and weapons found in hotel room, as well as quote from shopowner who sold Paddock weapons

This carries on for some time. What does that say about the structure? Whereas the Times article had distinct beginnings and endings, Breitbart’s appears as one long feed that carries on forever. The above summary comprises of maybe 30 updates out of some 300. In this way, the Breitbart article’s structure is, well, rather unstructured. It is chaotic, and takes the form of live news, much like a Fox debate panel; opinions from perceived experts (often twitter users) are hand selected for summary. 

Particularly interesting, as well, are the patriotic references. Whereas in the Times article discussions of gun control were juxtaposed with victim anecdotes, here summaries of facts are juxtaposed with reports of nationalist-oriented support (EG who sings the anthem). It is perhaps relevant that the primary focus of this survey of support is the NFL, a contentious and newfound political realm with very direct implications for Breitbart readers, or their perceived target audience. In other words a tie is made to some ulterior argument about patriotism... If you supported this, then you must feel this way now. It is still rather foggy what argument the site is trying to make, though. In fact, the site seems purposefully to be distancing itself from the situation entirely, diverting discussion about gun control to discussion of patriotism and other events, like the NFL controversies. Further examination is necessary. 

In summary, there is much to be discussed and analyzed and learned from putting news coverages side by side. It is unclear which critical texts will serve us best in doing so, save for those used in class discussions regarding Breitbart, the post-truth era, and the effects of post-modern virtual presences, as presented in Turkle’s piece. Looking forward, such texts will be used to lend a more theoretical framework and vocabulary to the difficult issue posited above. It’s a tricky world to navigate and understand, and some academic guidance will be much appreciated. I’m excited nonetheless, not knowing where this will take our group. 

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Visit Original Link

If we allow ourselves a more flexible working definition of diaspora, perhaps an answer may come more clearly into focus, regarding the causes and effects of diaspora. In my last post I examined the nature of local borders—how they come about, and why, and where. And in light of the emphasis made in Teju Cole’s Open City on the city scape and its daunting effects, perhaps urban borders deserve a second examination. 

The audio attached above was recorded in New Orleans, Louisiana. Specifically, it was recorded as I walked one block down an alley street, one block down the infamous party-centered Bourbon Street, and then one block back down an alley.

The sonic border of amplitude is most notable when listening. There is quiet, and then there is not, and then it returns.  But beyond that, what other borders can be heard? As you listen, you will hear drums. There is an interesting law in New Orleans, specific to this street: you cannot beg, but you can perform for tips. And so what many of the homeless do (most of whom, notably, are kids), is beat on a paint bucket with a drum stick and put a jar for tips before them. The result is an endless racket. The moment they stop drumming, they can be arrested. Desperation bleeds into their rhythms. It is a tired beat, like that of a war drum. 

Second, bouncers at bars can be heard shouting, advertising what they have inside (drinks, women), and announcing who is allowed to enter (21+, those who can afford a cover charge). 

All of this made me think of a recent article by Allison Arieff for the NYTimes titled, “Designing a More Inclusive City”. 

It may be found here: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/20/opinion/designing-inclusive-cities.html?_r=0

In this article, Arieff describes the “weaponry” used in San Francisco’s war on the visible homeless population. In the 1990′s, for example, all of the benches in the Civic Center Plaza were removed. There is no longer any place for people to sit, or, more importantly, sleep. And of course there are the same amount of homeless people. So where do they go? Enter the rise of tent cities. Tent cities abound in San Francisco, with the largest containing around 350 residents of the 6700 total homeless. Their diaspora is that of safe-place to safe-place, anywhere they can pitch their tents. But these places are disappearing. Prop Q, which was recently passed, banned the pitching of sidewalks on tents... San Francisco borders are like boa constrictors, always tightening... 

Where then, is there left to run to? Can you be a refugee in your own city? When there’s no place to find quiet, or no place to make money, or no place to sleep, well, then my answer is yes. 

Thoughts? 

[mx--max-blog]

In what ways is the Internet a form or practice of globalization? How might we think about online, virtual realms through discourses of globalization?

The Internet has the capability to connect people on a global scale as opposed to the local. We find pockets of culture that are not dominated geographically but rather transnationally in a local field. Ie. we share culture and nothing more. Knowledge and culture is distributed on a global scale, acting as a form of globalization. Euro-centric cultural sites, such as magazines, brands, and media can be exported at no cost across oceans and are able to permeate language (through translation) and nationalism (through fake news, through translation).

Likewise globalization is marked by global capital: raw materials being distributed by the Global South that are then made by factories with low wages in the Global South, then sold or manufactured in the Global North and sold through the North and South. In a similar fashion, viral videos are made form a localized source and distributed at a national level, and while free from capital, they provide a social capital through global connecting.

The Internet may provide the hybridity that Gómez-Peña discusses in The New World Border, in the way that it can connect different cultures across nationalities and provides a dialectic nuance to the concept of the homeland. However, if globalization is marked by global capitalism and hegemonic Western cultural values, then this also appears through the Internet. Large international companies owned by America are able to create cheap goods in the Global South (that they see no profits from), and then distribute them internationally through websites. Likewise Instagram, style blogs, Facebook, etc., continues to propagate a Western style of clothing, lifestyle, sexuality, beauty, and commodity. This in turn affects their internal identification and relation to the external local world, and perpetuates a Western epistemological sense of self, in which the Internet interpellates subjects through a Western centered lens.

However, I also want to bring attention to the local. Actions of resistance to hegemonic ideology and political action has been created by the Internet: a great example of this is the Arab Spring, in which activists were able to organize through online media platforms. Just want to point out that though globalization and the Internet being a facet of that is incredibly problematic, it also has the ability to provide free speech (which is why censorship of the Internet is incredibly scary), and collect global marginalized identities (queer people, for example).

[happymealhegemony-blog]

The paradox of connection vs. exploitation is well put in this post.

What primarily comes to mind, in light of recent events, is the voyeurism which internet-oriented globalism has allowed us in the face of natural disasters. Images, videos, and stories of hurricane survivors is easily used by news outlets as a form of capital, from which they profit. Everyone wants to see what the aftermath of a storm looks like. And in this day and age, anyone can. It costs a plane ticket and a camera to drop a photographer in such a place.

But, then, what to do when the president declares he can’t help because there’s a “big big ocean” in between the continental United States and Puerto Rico? What does it say about our country when we are willing to consume photographs and videos from these hurricane-ravaged places, but unwilling to send them relief? Who is to be held accountable for this?

Should the news outlets send supplies in exchange for documenting these places? Should they be obligated to, or would such an obligation make it so that such disasters don’t get covered, and therefore nobody knows or cares? The only reason Trump even commented on not sending supplies is because he was pressured by the media and everyone was able to see how desperately supplies were needed. 

How, then, do we balance visibility and action? The internet appears to have enabled some superficial global connections, but the true connections of political and financial avenues of support and exchange have yet to be facilitated or established.  

[chaos-sparkles-blog]

the internet as a form of globalization

The internet has helped the world shrink. From video platforms like Youtube and Vimeo, to blogging sites like Blogspot and Tumblr, the internet is a world of its own with a language and culture while connecting people across timezones and national borders. It embodies globalization in that it transcends time and space–people often point out that once something is on the internet, it is out there forever. Images are shared and people can see them within seconds of being posted, regardless of where in the world the sharer is located. Great examples of viral images include the photo of Kim Kardashian that supposedly “broke the internet” and the one of the protestor standing up to police. News is no longer constrained to paper newspapers delivered on lawns, or local television stations. We can find out, here in Ohio, what’s breaking news in Pakistan, or China, or anywhere across the globe. No longer does our knowledge, information about the world come from slow-to-travel sources, and no longer is it limited to being shared in only one capacity. You can get your news from Buzzfeed or CNN on the internet. You can see what the far right has to say about it–i.e. Breitbart–or the far left, or even just what your high school classmate thinks via Facebook.

Along another vein, the Internet is a major cog in the capitalist machine. Internet ads are catered to your specific searches, music-listening resources like Pandora and Spotify pander for your money by offering Premium options in lieu of advertisements. You cannot watch a video on Hulu or Youtube without having to endure at least one commercial. Coextensively, websites like Amazon and eBay facilitate the exchange of goods, without the limitations of borders. People can pay each other, and get paid through Paypal.

When considering online, virtual realms, we can harken back to discussions Fukuyama’s “The End of History?”–the internet has furthered the extension of the United States’ capitalist ideals. Just as Harvey pointed out, time and space has been compressed by globalization, thanks, in part, to the timeless nature of internet content. All over the world, internet users are voyeurs to Western culture and capitalism, helping enlarge the West’s already invasive influence.

https://youtu.be/zS1CacgMWIs

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The points here connecting capitalism and global internet culture raise the flag on some fascinating issues.

For example, how does globalization affect the output of artists? The above post mentions viral images, songs, videos, etc. Now that every corporation, news outlet, and artist appears to be attempting to “go viral”, how does that affect the art that they make?

Some ten or so years ago, Henry Jenkins published a fascinating sociological book titled “Spreadable Media”. In it, he argued that the greatest predictor of a piece of art’s financial success is not the actual aesthetic integrity of the piece, but what he dubs the “spreadability” factor. Spreadability dictates that a controversial song is more likely to be successful than a good one. 

For an example in a different vein, take Alex Jones of InfoWars. Alex Jones has been around, spewing paranoid right-wing paranoia for decades on broadcast television. Why, then, has he just recently gained such fame, and consequential political clout? Well, now his clips are easy to share. He is purposefully inflammatory and comical. Recall his “Government Chemicals are Turning the Frogs Gay” rant. For the right-wingers, this comment was the belligerent culmination of a big-time rant against chemtrails, etc. For the left-wingers this was an example of how absurd rightist conspiracy theorists had come. 

So what do we do when such a “news” source is shared / spread far more often than one who reports only the facts? 

How does such a jettisoning of earnest intent in favor of controversy affect other mediums such as movies or literature? What does it mean for an artform when success looks more like being a provocateur than a bona fide artist?

[bananasinmybag-blog]

internet as globalization?

The internet is a powerful tool for globalization that has arguably sped up the process of globalization in our lived reality itself. As travel became faster, easier, and cheaper, and internet access simultaneously experienced the same, people experienced what I would argue are almost correlative expectations for time-space compression. It’s sort of like how people might react now if someone still uses a flip phone – smart phones have become so cheap, ubiquitous, and accessible, why would you choose to move at a “slower” pace in terms of technological access? Why are you choosing to make your availability via email confined to when you are around a laptop or desktop computer? Why are you being selfish about the new standards of technology and technological access by refusing to engage with them, and by extension, with other people at the speed and frequency they expect?

This translates to globalized expectations of time and place. If I need you to be in Singapore by tomorrow morning for a crucial meeting, why can’t you be? There is hardly any barrier anymore between geographical places – you step from one airport into another and can be in another country across the ocean by that next morning. In cutthroat business situations like these, it seems almost like a lack of dedication or seriousness if you refuse or claim you can’t do that. Of course, this is complicated by the very real borders that are still highly enforced, in some places more dangerously and competitively than others. But in theory, the hybridization that Gomez-Peña talks about is very real, and already the standard or expectation for locality. 

The internet makes this seem even more present. Because there are no borders on the internet – and very few barriers in terms of access (beyond paid subscriptions, or the dark web) – our experience of media, information, and even intellectualism moves at lightning speed and zigzags across the globe without us even knowing. The internet can seemingly get us anywhere in a matter of seconds, and no matter where you are, it all sort of looks the same – “Every city looks like Tijuana on a Saturday night.” Partially because of the inordinate amount of time most people spend on the internet, our lived reality seems to rise to meet the expectations of our virtual reality. The internet is almost like a constant interpellation – at all times, it demands not only engagement, but also promotes expectations of globalization that demand people to consider them the standard for their lived experiences.  

[happymealhegemony-blog]

This post highlights what are, in my opinion, the dangers of globalization. 

Namely, globalization is an opt-out culture that presents itself as opt-in.

What I mean by this ranges from the shallow to the ubiquitous and dangerous. Think about what happens when you shop online. Unless you actively seek out and click a button that says you would not like to receive an email newsletter, you will be signed up immediately for near-daily posts about new products. Not too big of a deal, though, right? Well, this example is indicative of much larger, insidious things.

To move up a notch; the aforementioned example of a phone. Smart phones are advertised in the manner of “Look what we are enabling you to do!” But is that really why they sell? I would argue that the larger force behind iphone sales is the societal pressure to do so. “Why can’t I include you in group texts?” “Why can’t you check your email more often?” Not having an iphone becomes more of a statement than having one. And so what do we do when the marketing scheme says “Come experience this new feature!” but really means “Don’t get left behind!”

Finally, the sinister undertones. This post brings to mind a paper I read about opt-out culture in the insurance industry. Certain insurance companies have begun offering benefits for users who undergo a physical exam and confirm that they are non-smokers. Sounds beneficial and benevolent, right? What is actually occurring, though, is by observing which customers confirm that they are non-smokers, the insurance companies can determine which of their customers are smokers. At the time of the paper’s publishing, it was illegal to charge more for customers who smoked. To get around this, then, the companies just raised their baseline rates and offered cuts for those who could confirm they didn’t smoke. Boom. Again the big data analyses of these companies have turned opt-in culture into a de fact opt-out. Dangerous stuff.  

[happymealhegemony-blog]

A Tour of the Border

Henceforth, it is the map that precedes the territory—precession of simulacra—it is the map that engenders the territory and if we were to revive the fable [On Exactitude in Science] today, it would be the territory whose shreds are slowly rotting across the map.

-Jean Baudrillard, “Simulacra and Simulation”

“Generally speaking, I feel safe in Oberlin,” explains a friend. “During the day I can walk anywhere by myself and still be fine. But after the sun sets, I don’t feel safe anywhere east of Tank.” With these words she constructs a border. It is a border that for some time only she could see. With these words, I construct a border, too, indelibly. 

It goes: West of North Park Street, safe. East of it, lawless, dangerous. Civilization, wasteland. Here, there. Us, them. Us, other. 

Now I cannot, on an eastward path, pass Tank and help but wonder: how did this border come about? What makes the house on the western side of the Park street any different from the house on the eastern side? Or is it more of a gradient, a sliding scale of danger? So that the farther you wander east from there, the more likely you are to be—what?—mugged? Assaulted?

I set out to see for myself. The attached photos were taken during my tour of this imagined border, starting from the southern end, and ending at the northern one. There is a Church, a park, a laundromat, an apartment complex, a water tower, and a football field. The rest is residential.

I tutored a family on the eastern side of this border. They went to school over there, too. See how it is when such borders are made? I speak of them as though they are lost. I speak of their school as though it were more than five blocks from my home. 

So, again, I pose the question: from what did this border arise? 

Does it matter that (according to Zillow) the average price of a home on the western side of this border is ~$140,000 whereas on the eastern side it is ~$80,000? Or does it matter more that the friend had a single bad experience over “there”? 

Further, this conversation got me thinking: what other borders are there? How else do it’s inhabitants divide up Oberlin? There is the ever-present talk of the “bubble,” of course, but where does the bubble end? Is this an on-campus off-campus border? Or is it the town itself? Whichever it is, and whether we like it or not, our bubble is permeable. See below:

[happymealhegemony-blog]

https://vimeo.com/233143824

[happymealhegemony-blog]

A Tour of the Border

Henceforth, it is the map that precedes the territory—precession of simulacra—it is the map that engenders the territory and if we were to revive the fable [On Exactitude in Science] today, it would be the territory whose shreds are slowly rotting across the map.

-Jean Baudrillard, “Simulacra and Simulation”

“Generally speaking, I feel safe in Oberlin,” explains a friend. “During the day I can walk anywhere by myself and still be fine. But after the sun sets, I don’t feel safe anywhere east of Tank.” With these words she constructs a border. It is a border that for some time only she could see. With these words, I construct a border, too, indelibly. 

It goes: West of North Park Street, safe. East of it, lawless, dangerous. Civilization, wasteland. Here, there. Us, them. Us, other. 

Now I cannot, on an eastward path, pass Tank and help but wonder: how did this border come about? What makes the house on the western side of the Park street any different from the house on the eastern side? Or is it more of a gradient, a sliding scale of danger? So that the farther you wander east from there, the more likely you are to be—what?—mugged? Assaulted?

I set out to see for myself. The attached photos were taken during my tour of this imagined border, starting from the southern end, and ending at the northern one. There is a Church, a park, a laundromat, an apartment complex, a water tower, and a football field. The rest is residential.

I tutored a family on the eastern side of this border. They went to school over there, too. See how it is when such borders are made? I speak of them as though they are lost. I speak of their school as though it were more than five blocks from my home. 

So, again, I pose the question: from what did this border arise? 

Does it matter that (according to Zillow) the average price of a home on the western side of this border is ~$140,000 whereas on the eastern side it is ~$80,000? Or does it matter more that the friend had a single bad experience over “there”? 

Further, this conversation got me thinking: what other borders are there? How else do it’s inhabitants divide up Oberlin? There is the ever-present talk of the “bubble,” of course, but where does the bubble end? Is this an on-campus off-campus border? Or is it the town itself? Whichever it is, and whether we like it or not, our bubble is permeable. See below:

[happymealhegemony-blog]

Why Are You Here?

““Why” implies a purpose, “How” implies a story.

Because the latter comes more naturally to me, I’ll begin with that. 

The how of me begins with—brushing over the biology of it all—a quiet family in a quiet town. The quiet town itself is the product of a diaspora of sorts; when San Francisco “went liberal,” the Market-Street, 2nd-Amendment Catholics fled and founded a place called Danville. Danville’s de facto mascot is an oak. An oak has roots. An oak is resilient to the caprices of time (read: an oak is the only thing still standing after a westward flood of gays and commies. At least that’s what I was taught.) And so it makes sense that this quiet family in this quiet town would also be rather stagnant—politically speaking—and call that stagnancy “strength.” This is where I came from. We all thought we were strong. Maybe we were, in a way. But the boughs of an oak, strong as they are, can confine just the same as they protect. “Ties that bind,” and all that crap. It all depends on where you’re trying to go. And it takes a different kind of strength to break out than it takes to burrow in. 

“Why” implies a choice. 

The why begins with a revelation. All of them do.

There’s a popular saying that’s used a lot in my town. My Dad used to quote it when he watched the news. He doesn’t anymore. It goes “only steers and queers come from Texas, and you don’t look like you have any horns.” In Catholic School we were taught that there was no difference between steers and queers; both had horns.

Hearing that began to hurt after a while. Pubescence. Horns. Horny. You get my drift.

It’s really quite a simple realization to make in an all-boys locker room. Your body does it for you. It’s all just a matter of your mind catching up. 

It’s a tougher realization to make at an all-boys Catholic School. 

Faggot. 

Faggot is the fire that fueled my choice. A bundle of sticks. “That’s all we’re calling you,” someone so generously explained to me. Did he know that people like him once used bundles of sticks as kindling to burn people like me? Our college counselor knew. She had a short pixie-cut, a wardrobe of Dickies pants, and a wife. She was still heading west—hadn’t quite made it there yet. But she knew. She handed me a list of colleges for “people like us.” What it really was, was a list of colleges that were the opposite of that school. We both understood. 

And so I came to a liberal-gay-commie school without a clue in the world how to act. A lot of people “pushed back” against what I said. It was the oak within me. I realized it was rotting. These were people moving forward. I was still rooted down in Danville. I was trying. 

The college counselor was “let go” after the bishop decreed that all diocesian teachers needed to “abide by church doctrine.” 

A kid from my high school killed himself. At first they thought it was a heart attack. 

They said something was burning up inside him. It turned out to be pills that set his innards aflame. By the letter he left, I learned he was like me. I called him a faggot once, our freshman year. He called me one too. It seemed alright at the time. 

A girl in my first college class beat her chest a lot when she spoke. At first I thought she was self righteous. Then I realized she, too, had an oak inside her. A bundle of sticks. She’d cut it down. “It’s really quite simple,” she said. “They tried to burn us once. But they forgot that for the first humans—for the ones cast out by others—fire was the only thing that kept them alive.”