Critical Lens Essay

The Power of Storytelling

            As said by Harold Goddard, “The destiny of the world is determined less by the battles that are lost and won than by the stories it loves and believes in.”  In other words, the winning or losing of battles and wars is far less significant than the devoted and trusted memories that are passed down. This clever quote can be easily illustrated in Tim O’Brien’s, The Things They Carried, and Elie Wiesel’s Night. Both of these novels involve exhilarating memories of young men during times of hardship and battle. The purpose of the two is not to depict historical loss or gain, but furthermore to enhance reader’s minds with stories of experience, adversity and personal quests.

            It is clear that in the novel Night by Elie Wiesel, young Eliezer’s story is not one in a million. Thousands of children were separated from their parents and thrown into concentration camps, stripped of not only their clothes and possessions, but their general human rights. Thousands of children, men, and women experienced the same exact tormenting hardships, yet, Elie’s seems so unique and exceptionally meaningful. The story, the memories, and every single sensation came directly from the eyes of Elie Wiesel, who then transformed these experiences in to a powerful story. This novel is not simply a Holocaust novel. It is not an informative tale about the suffering of thousands of innocent people. This is the direct memory of a young boy’s journey from him home in Sighet, to a Ghetto, to Birkenau, and finally back home. The influence and significance of Elie Wiesel’s voice in the telling of his story holds much more power than hearing the story of the battle alone.

            The notion that story embodies such significance is also evident in Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. Similar to Elie’s story, Tim and all of the other soldiers who fought in the Vietnam War are much more than statistics in history. Their battles have still waged on, even though the war has long been ended. Hearing of all the things these courageous soldiers carried takes the story to a whole other level of emotion and purpose. One may not believe all of the extreme stories that were told in the novel, but it is hard to not take them for what they are worth. We already know that soldiers have it rough, but what we do not know is that certain soldiers, like Kiowa, died in a field filled with waste. Or, other soldiers like, Curt Lemon and Rat Kiley, who liked goofing off as a means of taking their mind off battle and Curt died during their game of “toss the grenade”. Hearing the stories of these soldiers, what they did on a daily basis, how they survived both mentally and physically is enormously noteworthy and truly has the power to alter one’s state of mind.

            Both novels share several common characteristics. Wiesel and O’Brien have a way of turning an ordinary war story into something so unique and breathtaking that it truly shocks the reader. What is the Vietnam War for some people, O’Brien turns into a personal anecdote of anxiety, fear, and admiration. When he talks about the Rat Kiley torturing and finally killing a baby water buffalo, we are taken to a whole different level, out of the ordinary war story. It is apparent that this war is more than merely winning or losing, and all of Rat Kiley’s feelings of guilt and relentlessness come forth during this scene. Or when Elie, like many prisoners in concentration camps, was tripping over dead bodies of men, women and children on a death march in the freezing cold snow. What is the Holocaust for some people, Wiesel turns into a delicate and in-depth sketch of faith, horror, and trepidation.

            The function of story, in many cases, is not to merely present facts. It is to bring the reader or listen into the actual tale, to see what that person saw, hear what that person heard, and feel what that person felt. In Elie Wiesel’s Night and Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried, the power of their stories far overreaches the bottom line of the actual battle. Their detailed account of memories, whether they seem true or unbelievable, is what truly strikes the reader. The memories that these brave characters share with us is what truly catches people, what sticks out the next time they decide to tell a story about a war.

Hard Work Always Pays Off

It has always occurred to me that my sister is as smart as a whip. She’s also a perfectionist and never lets anything go. She graduated with her Master’s Degree in Special Education in the fall of 2010. She got an additional certification in order to broaden her chances of getting a job. In fact, she just quit her third job which was as a tutor at a large facility. Thanks to my cousin, she got a Teacher’s Assistant position at a school not too far away. The kids were great and she enjoyed it. She enjoyed everything but the fact that she was getting paid to be a TA when she had an Advanced Master’s Degree. It was getting down to the wire. She was completely burned out, working three jobs and then coming home to do school work for the teacher she was working under. Not to mention the monthly-unlimited package from Hot Pilates that she just bought. She was totally burning her candle at both ends. Finally, she made the decision to quite the learning center. For her, this was a good thing and a bad thing. It meant less aggravation…and less money every week. “An epiphany” she called it when she nonchalantly told me she quit. She was at an all time low (and let me tell you, that’s lower than low).

Three days later, she gets a text message from a friend. A friend who graduated with my sister, who started working at the learning center with my sister and who got a job before my sister. The message was urgent, telling her to call as soon as possible, a position has opened up and her school needed a Special Ed teaching immediately. The next day, my sister had an interview set up. Was she excited? No. She was one big ball of anxiety.

The next day, I sat in her room pretending to be a third grade student. Hm! Of course, I did it for her, because I knew she’d have a heart attack if I didn’t obey her wishes, and at this point it was easier to abide by her rules than to watch the wrinkle in her forehead crease every time she walked into the kitchen. The lesson was catchy, as most of her lessons are. She’s really got her heart in the game, which is obviously the most essential part of being a teacher. She really did her research and seemed prepared to nail her demo lesson after the interview.

Tuesday rolls around and my sister leaves, two hours before the interview to get there and practice again. At about noon I get a text message. “I got the job!” So, there. There is hope. When you least expect it, something good always happens. Hard work ALWAYS pays off. 

Good Save...

My line of part-time work involves three children. I am a nanny, babysitter, “assistant”…whatever. That’s what pays my bills. Luckily, they’re great kids and I actually look forward to going to “work”. I am also lucky because I get to do a great deal of schoolwork when I’m with them, which is definitely an added bonus. The other day I was researching different topics that would be worthy of writing a fifteen-page capstone paper. I was clearly frustrated and mouthed off words that should probably never be said around children. No, I did not curse, or yell, or throw my papers in the air in a fit of rage. I said “ Gosh, I am so over school.” Coincidentally, the nine-year-old boy sitting next to me doing his homework agreed. It was then that I realized what I had said. For my fellow college-goers and me this is most likely a phrase used quite often. But, saying it in front of a nine year old? Smooth move, Diana. I needed a way to bounce back from that impulsive comment…and fast. I quickly closed my laptop and my notebooks and looked at him. “What?” he said. “School’s dumb. I hate school!” with a careless look on his face, he dives right back into his article about the pilgrims. I always try to stay calm around them; I always try to be rational. What could I say? Did I not hate school when I was nine years old? Did I not think it was dumb? So, of course I begin my spiel about how so many children in other countries and even this country aren’t fortunate enough to be getting an education. Gosh, this is going nowhere. I tell him that right now is a crucial time in a kid’s life. That if he strays away from education right now with a bad attitude and a closed mind, he could be potentially setting himself up for a letdown in the future. He’s laughing at this point. So, I ask him what he wants to be, even though I know full well that he intends on becoming a Marine Biologist (he’s completely obsessed with ocean creatures and dreams of one day owning his very own stingray). “A marine biologist, duh!” he says, now slamming his pencil down on his desk, finally looking at me. “Ok,” I say, “How would you feel if there was a marine biologist out there with no education?” Hopefully I’m getting at something now. He then asks me what I mean, half intrigued, half frustrated because I am deferring his homework progress. I give an example, “Like, if a marine biologist knows nothing about sea creature and one day decides that he is going to take a dolphin home with him as a pet…like a dog.” He angrily responds, “That’s insane! Dolphins can grow up to 12 feet long and weigh over 1,000 pounds! No one can have a dolphin as a set, Diana.” Ah, perfect. Now, I need to end this in a way that makes me look like I know what I’m talking about. “See? Not many people know that unless they’ve read books or have done research. Which, I might add, is why it’s so important to have an education.” Phew. He looks down, ponders for a second. “Got it.” He says, turns back around and gets back to his article on pilgrims. 

What Regrets?

Am I doing something I'm going to regret? To me, it seems that trying to become a teacher can often become discouraging. Mainly, because of the fact that there is a ton of competition for jobs, but not many job offerings. Of course, this can be dispiriting and nerve wracking all at the same time. Why have I gone through five years of college? Why have I read The Brothers Karamazov cover to cover in order to get a decent grade in a Major Authors class? Why have I stressed over the production of lesson plans, down to the very font in which I’ve typed them? At one time, my answer was, “because I want to be a teacher”. However, once the doubts start rolling in, my entire view becomes a big, disappointing haze. This is usually how the sequence of events occurs for me, personally:

 I have a bad day. Some random person tells me, “Teachers can’t eat and have a home.” I become frustrated, what does she know, anyway? I sit down on my computer chair and stare at the blank screen of my laptop, tears welling up in my eyes. I start a random online job search for something, anything that will pay money and be steady. I find nothing that interests me and slap down the cover of my macbook, fling the chair from under me and throw myself in to my unmade bed. 

The next morning my alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m. I get ready and drive to the high school I am student teaching at. As soon as I walk in it all becomes clear. The disappointing haze soon turns into crystal clear clarity and my previous answer of “because I want to be a teacher”, turns into “because I can’t see myself anywhere else”.