Ping Pong with My Dad

My dad and I have a very close relationship and I’m really thankful to have an understanding and caring father. Just like a typical dad, he takes an interest in sport—especially ping pong.  

It all started about three years ago when my dad decided to buy a ping pong table. So we bought a ping pong table and we assembled it together. I had never seriously played ping pong at the time, so I was pretty excited to learn; however, I was gravely mistaken on that. Something you need to know about my dad is that he played ping pong for his college back in India and he is also pretty competitive—he showed absolutely no mercy at all! It took me a whole year to finally get to a level where I could withstand a long point, although it might have taken longer if I didn’t have my tennis background. I noticed around that time that my dad and I had some deep conversations while playing; even if we weren’t talking, we could sense the other’s emotions based on how we were playing. It felt strange at first, but I embraced this connection. Now, three years after we bought the ping pong table, ping pong has become a part of our lives—I probably play at least an hour and a half everyday with my dad. On days when I’m stressed about multiple tests the following day and I can’t concentrate on anything, I play ping pong for a bit with my dad. Over the past three years, I’ve definitely become a lot better at ping pong and, honestly, I’m starting to win every time we play. I can sense that I am getting much better. I can sense this growth, yet it feels uncomfortable. Recently, my dad mentioned that he’s going to miss playing ping pong with me when I go off to college. When I go to college, I can’t depend on my dad to help ease out the stress when I have a lot to worry about the next day. I’ll always remember the times that I struggled to return a ball, and how my dad laughed at me every time I sent a ball flying to the other side of the basement. Perhaps this means that now I should be more independent and responsible. I could play ping pong with someone else, but it just wouldn’t feel the same—the way it feels when my dad and I understand each other through the game.

I’m proud to have such a special connection with my dad and I’ve become more competitive in the ways I approach things. I can always count on my dad to understand what I’m going through, even in the future, and I hope everything stays how it used to be when I first started off—except next time we play ping pong, I’m going to totally annihilate the game. 

Brave Warrior of the Sea!

I cherish these days—

Clear skies and a feeling of tranquility.

A cool ocean breeze blows across

The left cheek of my face.

The ocean waves

Crash against my ship

Causing it to tip left and right.

I casually lean on the side of my ship

And hear

The pleasing sound

Of the laughs and cheers

Of my crew.

This familiar scent.

The musty smell

 rising from the ocean.

And the salty taste

Which will remain on my tongue

As a part of my body.

This feeling,

This is how it feels to be

A brave warrior of the Sea!

I am a pirate captain,

In charge of nearly two-hundred men.

I have chosen to embrace this era

The era of Pirates

And seek for wealth, fame, and power.

Why I became a Pirate?

Of course,

The Jolly Roger was calling my name.

This Jolly Roger is a sign of my conviction.

A heavy conviction.

Conviction that I will be

The King of Pirates!

The greatest to ever live.

I must be willing to risk my life to achieve my Dream.

I would rather die trying

Because it is

My Dream.

A Dream heavier than all others.

I daydream of the adventure that awaits me

In my journey across this vast ocean.

I must not be scared.

I cannot afford weakness.

An excitement rushes through my body

I will do it!

I can finally do it!

I will achieve my Dream!

This thought

This exhilarating thought

Gives me hope;

A burning hope

Which no wave

Storm

Or Hurricane

Can extinguish.

I will keep my Dream alive!

But for now,
I will wait.

Whether it be merciful

Or spiteful,

I will greet my fate with a big grin

Like a true

Brave warrior of the Sea!

Different

“The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.”
― Mark Twain

Asian. American. Two very distinct cultures. “Fish Cheeks” by Amy Tan accurately depicts a typical clash-of-cultures situation at the teenage level. Her feelings of awkwardness and embarrassment are prevalent in most kids with different cultural backgrounds. These feelings exist because of our fear of being different. Her self-consciousness is evident right from the first paragraph when she says that “For Christmas I prayed for this blond-haired boy, Robert, and a slim new American nose.” This statement shows that, at the time, Tan was uncomfortable to be herself in front of Robert. She desires to be a “normal” person like Robert. In other words, she is somewhat ashamed of her Asian heritage.

When it comes to the dinner, Tan uses repulsive imagery to describe the foods, even though it is later revealed that all of those foods were her favorites. This instance shows the inner conflict that was going on inside of Tan—she was confused of whether to be more Asian or more American. She was the only intermediate at the dinner—both Asian and American. She felt alone. As any first-generation Asian American, her racial ambiguity causes this confusion of whether to keep her traditional values or assimilate into white society and abandon her culture—a very tough decision to make.

Although, thanks to her mom, she is reminded of what is actually important in life. “You must be proud that you are different. Your only shame is to have shame.” It doesn’t matter how much Tan tries to be an American on the outside, but on the inside she will always be Chinese. She should be shameful for having shame on herself for being an Asian. Tan must embrace her Chinese traditions while growing into American culture, just like how everyone shouldn't be afraid to be who they really are. 

Equals

Maya Angelou in the chapter excerpt from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1970), “Champion of the World” asserts that African Americans are no less than any other human beings and are capable of being the strongest people in the world. Angelou supports her assertion by illustrating Joe Louis’ boxing match as a symbol of African Americans’ fight for equal rights against the prejudiced white majority at the time. The author’s purpose is to convince African Americans are not weak human beings and will prevail in their fight against discrimination in order to change America into a country that doesn’t discriminate. Angelou writes in a suspenseful tone for the readers, both black and white, to realize the irrationality of discrimination in America.

Many of the African Americans gathered at the Store are depicted as proud Blacks that are fighting for the sake of their rights; however, it seemed to me as if they were no different than the white majority that oppressed them. They weren’t “worried ‘bout this fight. Joes gonna whip that cracker like it’s open season. He gone whip him till that white boy call him Momma.” It made it seem that although this fight was another step in their much bigger fight for equal rights, they sought revenge for the mistreatment they received in the past couple of centuries and to become the strongest people in the world. This would cause a never-ending battle of the races to become the strongest people in the world—just like the never-ending cycle of annual boxing championships in which Joe Louis will be challenged every year for the title of “Champion of the World.” People should aim for becoming perfect equals with one another and accept each others’ differences, not aim to surpass all that come in their way. Perfect equality is achieved when there is no Champion of the World.