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I've made some "bad decisions" since I left home and started living on my own in college. None of them too bad, more like experiments, my experience seeking actions that I do only because of a lack of chance to do it under the eyes of my parents (and some of them just mistakes).
I transfered too much money into my husky card account, so I'm low on cash. It's no problem, I just need to hold out until I get my first pay check (mid October).
I left a package my parents gave me in the lost anf found, so I could come claim it later. It's a long story, and deserves it's own post.
The reason I'm posting now is because of something I did just recently. I was walking back to UW from 45th and Brooklyn, and I saw a man in front of safeway, pan handling for money. Pan handlers make me think, more than they should. I started imagining a scenario where I would go to talk to him, a different setting when I didn't have my wallet and calculator in my possesion, and looked less preppy. I imagined sitting down with him and sincerely asking him, "what do you need?". I don't mean it in an accusatory way, but actually asking his opinion on what he needs to get where he wants to go. I've slowly come to accept myself as a member of the western world. I've enjoyed the benefits, education, etc of upper middle class american society. And I wanted to know what people really needed to be happy, to be satisfied, to be in peace, to be as they should be. I wanted to know what he needed to stop being dependent on others, I wanted him to be able to carry his own weight, instead of being a burden to others and maybe even himself.
Soon after, I saw a man (late 30s, of african descent) setting up a stand. He seemed slightly nervous, as I assumed he didn't have the right to vendor on the sidewalk. At the same time, he noticed that I was a target, I don't know how, perhaps I had a perplexed look on my face? but he greeted me and told me a story about his situation in an accent I could not identify, "I lost my job, ya? I need to pay for school (points in the general direction of UW), so I sell these beads... AUTHENTIC beads, glass beads from Africa! Go ahead, here feel them!"
As he handed me the light blue beads, held together by straw, the ones that I found most aesthetic in the first place, I noticed that they were pleasently cool to the touch.
I knew the high possibility that he was shitting me. If he was going to school, he'd find ways to get loans, financial aid and work study. No way he'd end up selling stuff on the street after losing his job. My trusting side says that maybe he is a student, and found selling beads from africa more lucrative and simple than actually working. My cynical side thinks that he might be just some dude selling factory made, imitation beads, making money off gullible college students with his fake accent.
I did buy them, the beads, for 7 dollars. They were pretty, that's a point I can't deny myself. My judgement decided that he was really african, the final leverage that I use to justify my impulsive purchase, was that since I'm a part of the western world, I'd enjoy the irony if indigenious peoples of the world bought the world back from affluent westerners with glass beads.
It's not all a loss. I could always give them to a special girl who could appreciate them too i guess.
I got to go to class, maybe this post is imcomplete, if so, I'll finish later.
I transfered too much money into my husky card account, so I'm low on cash. It's no problem, I just need to hold out until I get my first pay check (mid October).
I left a package my parents gave me in the lost anf found, so I could come claim it later. It's a long story, and deserves it's own post.
The reason I'm posting now is because of something I did just recently. I was walking back to UW from 45th and Brooklyn, and I saw a man in front of safeway, pan handling for money. Pan handlers make me think, more than they should. I started imagining a scenario where I would go to talk to him, a different setting when I didn't have my wallet and calculator in my possesion, and looked less preppy. I imagined sitting down with him and sincerely asking him, "what do you need?". I don't mean it in an accusatory way, but actually asking his opinion on what he needs to get where he wants to go. I've slowly come to accept myself as a member of the western world. I've enjoyed the benefits, education, etc of upper middle class american society. And I wanted to know what people really needed to be happy, to be satisfied, to be in peace, to be as they should be. I wanted to know what he needed to stop being dependent on others, I wanted him to be able to carry his own weight, instead of being a burden to others and maybe even himself.
Soon after, I saw a man (late 30s, of african descent) setting up a stand. He seemed slightly nervous, as I assumed he didn't have the right to vendor on the sidewalk. At the same time, he noticed that I was a target, I don't know how, perhaps I had a perplexed look on my face? but he greeted me and told me a story about his situation in an accent I could not identify, "I lost my job, ya? I need to pay for school (points in the general direction of UW), so I sell these beads... AUTHENTIC beads, glass beads from Africa! Go ahead, here feel them!"
As he handed me the light blue beads, held together by straw, the ones that I found most aesthetic in the first place, I noticed that they were pleasently cool to the touch.
I knew the high possibility that he was shitting me. If he was going to school, he'd find ways to get loans, financial aid and work study. No way he'd end up selling stuff on the street after losing his job. My trusting side says that maybe he is a student, and found selling beads from africa more lucrative and simple than actually working. My cynical side thinks that he might be just some dude selling factory made, imitation beads, making money off gullible college students with his fake accent.
I did buy them, the beads, for 7 dollars. They were pretty, that's a point I can't deny myself. My judgement decided that he was really african, the final leverage that I use to justify my impulsive purchase, was that since I'm a part of the western world, I'd enjoy the irony if indigenious peoples of the world bought the world back from affluent westerners with glass beads.
It's not all a loss. I could always give them to a special girl who could appreciate them too i guess.
I got to go to class, maybe this post is imcomplete, if so, I'll finish later.
