Unacceptable

While perusing the Yale Daily News this morning I stumbled upon a series of articles that simultaneously made my heart drop into my gut, and angry bile boil from my veins. Each of the articles was about AIDS awareness  research or funding. I know about AIDs. I know the history of AIDs--not in full detail of course, but I did take Chauncey's Gay and Lesbian History Course last year and I did watch Longtime Companion and I did feel the sense of doom and helplessness that came with a diagnosis of AIDs-- and I know that AIDs in the present day is treatable, but moe importantly PREVENTABLE. And I know that Connecticut  specifically New Haven had a high AIDs population, and that many of the diagnoses came from sharing drug needles. I also know that New Haven hasn't had an HIV-Baby born in 15 years, since 1996. What I didn't know is that AIDs is teh leading cause of death for both men and women in New Haven.

I'll pause to let that sink in.

Leading.

Cause.

Of.

Death.

AIDs.

Does that make any sense? In a country where automobiles roam the street, where obesity is the status quo, where heart disease and alcoholism are everyday occurrences, AIDs is the leading cause of death in New Haven. To be fair, I understand that all those aforementioned problems when combined with HIV lead to a higher chance of death, but still, it is absurd that so many people die from a disease that is preventable.

I just had to vent. Because so few people know this fact. Because I go to a school where thousands of the brightest minds live among this fact. Because so few of those minds are doing nothing to stop this fact.

It is frustrating. Frustrating and unfair and neglectful.

Let the Record Show

That I make lists while I am in class. These are all from the past week, most of them from today. maybe they'll mean something to you--or me-- in the future.

Things I'd Like to Do
Rue de Guerre
Louvre
Monet Museum
Actually sit in a cafe for hours
Have a bottle of wine with someone along the river
Run in the massive woodland areas
Take photos!
Eat a crepe
Have a conversation with a French person
Visit the Eiffel Tower at Night
Kiss under the Eiffel Tower at Night
Walk through Paris in the Rain

If I Lived in the 20s
I would want to be a flapper
But I'd probably be a political activist
I'd look awful with short hair
Flapper dresses would do nothing for my legs
I'd want to be offensive + revolutionary
I would drink...heavily
WHAT IF I WAS LIKE ZELDA? Dear God...

Questions I'd Like to Ask
Would you kiss me?
That's really all I have right now

Things I Want To Do
Go Skinny Dipping
Scuba Dive at the Great Barrier Reef
Pick Peaches in a Georgia Orchard
Live in the country
Go Sledding with friends
Build a Snowman
Ge lost in a book
Write one true sentence
Write one true paragraph
Dance in the Rain
Sleep under the Stars
Hike Kilimanjaro
Live in California
Visit Greece
Surprise Someone
Be Surprised by Someone
Fall in Love
Stay in Love
Be Inspired
Get a pedicure
Grow Out my nails
Kis and be Kissed like I/they mean it
Laugh
Sleep on the Beach
i want to see the milky way big dipper
Shoot a balloon w/ a bow + arrow

Shopping
Blazer (black)- Zara (?)
Shoes- Everywhere!

I Wish I...
Spoke up more in class
Would go eat in a cafe alone
Would ask more questions
Listened
Were less self-centered
Had a sense of direction
Had faith...in anything, or something
Was good and kind and generous
Spoke French
Smiled more
Spoke less

Fears
Open Water
Guns
The Edge of the Metro Platforms
That Love is Fleeting
That Bruno and I will never be friends
That I'll lose him completely
That I'm turning into my mother
That I don't show my dad as much love (as I should)
Living in the Suburbs
Not Finding a (my?) Purpose

Protection/Barriers
Talking too much
No Eye Contact
Angry Face
Jaw Clench
Never Showing my Writing

I Want to Learn
How to punch somebody
How to fire a gun
How to write
How to Cook
How to Sew
To Water Ski
To Scuba Dive

What I Hope For
Good Weather
Good Luck
Fairness
Honesty
The Unlikely
The Impossible

Who Am I Supposed To Be
A daughter
A sister
A student
A teacher
A friend
A best friend
A lover--one day, I hope--with actual love
An Intelligent Person
A shoulder to cry on
An advice giver
The Bubbly One
The Talker
The Crazy One
Energetic
I don't know

Do you feel it tingling? (Don't think dirty now!)

Hey Kids,

So today I’m going to tell you about one of the best feelings you will ever experience. I’m not sure everyone would agree with me on this; in fact, some people think it’s a downright painful sensation, but that really depends on your personality and your outlook on life. What I’m talking about is the feeling of having a crush on somebody. Now, I’m sure that you’ve heard all about it by now—the butterflies in your stomach, that slow languid smile that crosses your face every time you think of them, they way your mind wanders to images of sweet sultry kisses on the beach, or under an oak tree, or in a hammock with the moonlight pouring over you highlighting that twinkle in your significant other's eyes.

This all happens, I assure you. Rest well, I have no desire to rip these delightful images away from you. But crushing is so much more than just liking someone to the point where you can't stop thinking about them. Crushing changes you, ast least temporarily. I'll admit, in some cases it's not for the better. People have been known to do downright stupid things to gain their crush's attention. But in other ways, in most ways I would say, it makes you better.

You begin to pay more attention to yourself. A bit of it is narcism; you care about how you look and whether or not you're attractive. But a larger part of it is that you began to notice how you appear to other people, specifically your crush. You notice how people react to what you say, your body language, the tone of your voice. This perceptiveness you gain is necessary to forming strong interpersonal relationships; you don't want to be the oblivious one, coming off as an obnoxious prat without realizing it. You also don't want to be the bubbly energizer bunny when people are trying to have a mellow time. I'm not saying that you should change yourself. If you are bubble, be bubbly. Just keep in mind your circumstances and tailor the degree of your bubbliness to the situation at hand.

Crushing also expands your imagination. Face it, in all those hours of dreaming about your crush you are bound to create some unique, absurd, and completely impossible ways of meeting, seducing, or simply kissing your object of affection. This is good. Creative thinking breeds innovation and the world could always use more of that. That feeling you have in your stomach of a small parade of ants marching through an amusement park and occasionally riding a roller coaster is fuel for brilliant ideas.

My last bit of advice on crushing is to savor it. Every moment of it. You will crush many times in your lives, some stronger than others, some only on the basis of a cute smile, others on the foundation of a strong personality match. I hope that even after you are married you continue to crush on your husband or wife (I hope this for myself as well.) It is an amazing feeling. You are blissfully happy because you are in a place where you are in control. After the crush, things can go downhill in the form of rejection or embarrassment. If you snag your lover, you may discover the problem of running a relationship into the ground, or simply running out of love. Things become complicated after the crush. It is inevitable.

So relish it. Take it in, and hold it in that stomach of yours. Hold it like you hold your breath under water, hold it until you burst. I know I am.

Discomfort

Originally Written May 1

Hey Kids,

So today is probably a day that will be remembered in history somewhat. Osama bin Laden was killed. His name, to you, is probably nothing more than a line a history book. I’ll be honest. To me he wasn’t much more. Not that he was in a textbook to me; instead he was a headline on a newsreel, print in a newspaper. Osama was the leader of Al Qaeda, the group that attacked the World Trade Center in 2001. I don’t know how old you guys are now, but I was 9 when that happened. We watched it in class—I was lucky enough to have a liberal teacher who didn’t want her students to be left in the dark during a national crisis. I went home and wrote about it in my diary. I don’t have those pages anymore (I ripped them out for reasons that will be discussed in a later letter) but I wish I didn’t.

Anyway, today after the news broke out that he was killed the reactions broke loose. It’s understandable; this is a big event, especially for those who lost family members to the 9/11 attacks. I’m in my room at Yale right now, and as I walked back to my dorm at one in the morning I could hear the raucous shouts of a group of students celebrating. They had vuvuzuelas, and beer and some were smoking and they sang the national anthem and God Bless America, and chanted “America Fuck Yeah.” But some of them also screamed “Fuck Al Qaeda” and made racist comments concerning “brownies” and “hit a Paki day.”

I felt uneasy during this display of emotion. They were celebrating the death of a human being. While he did kill over 3,000 people, I still do not believe that I have the moral right to justify that he is dead. Am I upset that he is dead? Of course not. However, I do not think it is appropriate to commemorate his death on a public campus. Support for America? That I approve of. But this went beyond that. Had they celebrated this as the end of an era, the start to the end of the war or a new beginning, I would feel calmer. But this display of antagonism makes me concerned that the hate that began this war is only breeding in the very ground that seeks to eradicate it.

Yale is a prestigious university. We are supposed to have brilliant students, the future minds of the world. But seeing students act this way, so carelessly, clearly unperturbed by the way their actions may be affecting others, especially international students who have not had the same experience with bin Laden as we have, reminds me that even we are rash, that even we can succumb to mob mentality. 

I made a Facebook post (do you even have Facebook anymore? It was the pinnacle of my generation) and it caused quite a stir. My voice was dissenting. But I am glad I posted. Honest discussion occurred and though it caused rifts in relationships, it opened my eyes, and I hope it opened the eyes of others. I’ll post the conversation here, so you can understand. Note however, that there is some personal conflict between Nick and Larissa, that I may or may not remember by the time you read this. I’m also posting my roommate’s note because I think it is succinct and brilliant. 

If you are ever in a situation such as this, where you are concerned about what the majority is doing, don’t be afraid to speak up. It is your duty. If something feels wrong to you it probably is. If you are unsure, talk about it anyway. Good discussion leads to constant reevaluation, which leads to progress.

It’s ben a few hours now, and I may write more about this later after I’ve thought it over more.

Love you,

Giu

Future Kids...Gulp

Originally Written April 28, 2011

It's  a little strange addressing this “kids” so I’ll just leave off the header for now. Maybe in a few years I’ll be able to do it, maybe in a few months, but right now I just don’t want to think about being preggers and having babies that’ll turn into toddlers that’ll poop and then be at prom and all that scary growing-up nonsense.

I suppose I should get over that considering I’m writing this for you guys. But I’m only nineteen and I don’t want to be a mom yet. I’m writing this because I think it’s important to have perspective. In 12, 15 years when you guys are actually alive I want to be able to look back and see what I was thinking now and remember what it was like to be a teenager. I’ve done this my whole life—it’s not new. Rereading my old diaries in one of my favorite experiences; maybe when you’re old enough I’ll let you guys look at them. I encourage you guys to keep a diary. Even if you think it’s mundane and boring, ten years from now you won’t think that. Some of the stuff you’ll write down will be pretty insightful and you’ll be amazed you thought of that at your age. Never underestimate yourself. And don’t let me or anyone else either. Kids are way smarter than adults give them credit for. You guys have brains that work in magical ways; you make leaps that we think impossible. I wish I could have a brain like yours.

But I digress. Back to the point. I’m going to try and write to you everyday. It’ll be hard and I know now that I’m going to fail, but I’m running out of time, and it’s important I get this all down on paper. I want you to know that I remember what it was like to be your age. I’m already nineteen and it’s tough to think like a kid. I find myself judging children instead of empathizing with them. I have to force myself back into that seven-year-old mindset to remember what it felt like to be shy and nervous to raise my hand in class because I was scared to get the answer wrong even though I knew I was right, or to feel that emotion swell in my chest when I thought about Harry Potter and how he was undoubtedly the love of my life even though I knew he wasn’t and could never be real. I want you guys to know that I know what that feels like. For the most part, I still can. But I want to make sure that I can remember forever.
This is rambling. Later letters will be more focused. I’ll try to make each letter have a point or something like that. There will be life lessons, laughs, stories from my life that you should probably never know. But I’ll write them for you.

Much Love,

Giuliana (Your future mom? Eek.)