Many know of Nelson Mandela, fewer of his feats, and even fewer of what he did for South Africa as a nation. Nonetheless, even some of those who perceive themselves to be great thinkers have misunderstood the significance of this mortal and his influence.
Rolihlahla Mandela spent 67 years of his life fighting for the greater good of humanity. Twenty-seven of those years he spent in prison. He continues, to this day, to fight for humanity. Mandela is an international icon and an example to all true South Africans.
Yuill Damaso, however, clearly thinks otherwise. He crafted a sacrilegious painting depicting a deceased Nelson Mandela surrounded by select members of past and present parliament. This work was designed as a parody of Rembrandt's "The Anatomy Lecture of Dr. Nicholaes Tulp", but falls horribly short of the Dutch master's standards, albeit a 'work in progress'.
The work of Damaso sparked international outrage, supported by many South Africans. Damaso himself states that he does not apologise for the painting and that his message is for the government to wake up and see what life will be like without Mandela holding the nation together. As per usual, Damaso -like so many- has failed to comprehend the full consequences of his actions.
Most of this nation's population are people of colour. A large percentage of this sector of the public extol Mandela as he 'saved' them from Apartheid -when in fact he saved all South Africans because the country was on the verge of civil war nearing the end of Apartheid, and Mandela doused that flame. Therefore, many white citizens also realise that they live their peaceful lives, and most of them affluently, thanks in part to Mandela.
Furthermore, most of this country's population are uneducated and will not understand the underlying message of Damaso's work. Many of those still uneducated are people of colour who may still harbour resentment towards the previously privileged white population. All this painting accomplishes is stirring up fresh hatred between different races in our country -although, supposedly, this outcome was far from the artist's intentions.
Let us take a look at the real 'big picture': Damaso creates a controversial painting. The painting sparks an uproar in the leading governing party. The supporters of that party are therefore also infuriated. Inevitably, the blame is placed at the foot of white racism, which breeds black hatred. This self-perpetuating racism is what may again lead to a huge and irreversible rift between the white population and the people of colour in South Africa.
In conclusion, I find Damaso's work extremely disrespectful and feel that he needs to wake up and realise that the world is not always one's oyster. One day an artist just like him may be the final straw on the camel's back, because in truth we must know that our fragile society is much less robust than we idealise it to be.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
"The Hair Debate" by Peter Turner
Over the past three and a half years during which I have attended this magnificent institution, I have heard many a student complain about the policies that the school has with regards to the length of boys' hair. It must be said that high school students from all over complain about many things regarding their schools, and school in general. Most of these complaints are of no real substance and are merely voiced to either make conversation or simply to climb up the popularity ladder.
This particular argument, however, has captured my attention as I think that when it comes to this subject, the majority of the school population - the students - have a strong case. However, to be taken in the least bit seriously by the people who matter, the student body has to acknowledge the opposing argument and find a way to persuade them that the students' case is strong enough to be considered over theirs'. This is why I have decided to, in as non-biased a manner as possible, look at both sides of the argument.
The school's main argument against any hair cut that does not make the wearer look like a cue ball is that it fits with our uniform. They do have a point in saying this: if you take a look at most institutions that require uniform, there are hair regulations as well. There is no deying that short hair does make us look... smart.
Another reason for the rules about hair is that the school does not want its students walking around with hair so long that it borders on unhygeinic or even disturbs learning.
Fair enough, these are two valid points; maybe there should be rules regarding hair, but are such strict ones necessary?
Yes, our short, neatly trimmed hair does go rather nicely with our uniforms. However, I'm sure that with a bit of effort we would look just as neat, if not nicer, with long hair. Many people like to express their individuality through their appearance and through how they wear their hair. I think if students were able to do this the people in our school would actually relate to each other on a more meaningful level: many students feel self-conscious and are therefore afraid to be themselves because of the way they think that everyone views them. Much of the time this fear is brought about by something as trivial as how they look. Giving people the freedom to wear their hair the way they would like to, could help them overcome this self-consciousness and give them the confidence to be themselves during school.
Looking back on Leonard's article on Chapel and how the reason for attending Chapel may just be the school's attempt to try and create a good public image, could the reasons for strict rules about hair not be for the same reason? I think that visitors to our school would appreciate sending their children to a place where they can have a general sense of belonging and be allowed to express themselves rather than seeing their children limited to routine and, let's face it, somewhat old fashioned rituals of wearing uniform and having to shave their hair before the start of every term.
In my opinion, there should be no regulation length for our hair, as long as looks neat and smart it should be allowed. Teachers should, of course, retain the authority to decide whether or not we need a haircut, but this decision should not be taken on the length of the hair alone. The rule should simply state that the students' hair should be presentable, however long they choose to grow it.
Of course I am aware that this will cause a lot of conflict as students will complain if they are told to have a haircut whereas their longer-haired friends may not have to. Yes, we would have to figure out a few ways to establish fair criteria for having to have a haircut. It would be more difficult to establish than the strict rules that we have now, but in my opinion, it would be worth it.
While this may be considered a somewhat trivial subject, it is important that all matters being aired are discussed thoroughly and that every individual is free to join in on the discussion.
This particular argument, however, has captured my attention as I think that when it comes to this subject, the majority of the school population - the students - have a strong case. However, to be taken in the least bit seriously by the people who matter, the student body has to acknowledge the opposing argument and find a way to persuade them that the students' case is strong enough to be considered over theirs'. This is why I have decided to, in as non-biased a manner as possible, look at both sides of the argument.
The school's main argument against any hair cut that does not make the wearer look like a cue ball is that it fits with our uniform. They do have a point in saying this: if you take a look at most institutions that require uniform, there are hair regulations as well. There is no deying that short hair does make us look... smart.
Another reason for the rules about hair is that the school does not want its students walking around with hair so long that it borders on unhygeinic or even disturbs learning.
Fair enough, these are two valid points; maybe there should be rules regarding hair, but are such strict ones necessary?
Yes, our short, neatly trimmed hair does go rather nicely with our uniforms. However, I'm sure that with a bit of effort we would look just as neat, if not nicer, with long hair. Many people like to express their individuality through their appearance and through how they wear their hair. I think if students were able to do this the people in our school would actually relate to each other on a more meaningful level: many students feel self-conscious and are therefore afraid to be themselves because of the way they think that everyone views them. Much of the time this fear is brought about by something as trivial as how they look. Giving people the freedom to wear their hair the way they would like to, could help them overcome this self-consciousness and give them the confidence to be themselves during school.
Looking back on Leonard's article on Chapel and how the reason for attending Chapel may just be the school's attempt to try and create a good public image, could the reasons for strict rules about hair not be for the same reason? I think that visitors to our school would appreciate sending their children to a place where they can have a general sense of belonging and be allowed to express themselves rather than seeing their children limited to routine and, let's face it, somewhat old fashioned rituals of wearing uniform and having to shave their hair before the start of every term.
In my opinion, there should be no regulation length for our hair, as long as looks neat and smart it should be allowed. Teachers should, of course, retain the authority to decide whether or not we need a haircut, but this decision should not be taken on the length of the hair alone. The rule should simply state that the students' hair should be presentable, however long they choose to grow it.
Of course I am aware that this will cause a lot of conflict as students will complain if they are told to have a haircut whereas their longer-haired friends may not have to. Yes, we would have to figure out a few ways to establish fair criteria for having to have a haircut. It would be more difficult to establish than the strict rules that we have now, but in my opinion, it would be worth it.
While this may be considered a somewhat trivial subject, it is important that all matters being aired are discussed thoroughly and that every individual is free to join in on the discussion.
"If rainbows smiled rather than frowned" by Sarah de Villiers
If rainbows smiled rather than frowned,
If balloons didn't float away,
and bubbles never popped.
If we laughed with the clowns,
and could keep our heads in the clouds.
If we skipped around barefoot,
And chased the butterflies.
If flowers blossomed all year long,
And ice-creams never melted.
If stars could twinkle for forever and a day,
And sand-castles didn't wash away.
If we freed our hearts,
And opened our minds.
If we all smiled
Rather than frowned.
If balloons didn't float away,
and bubbles never popped.
If we laughed with the clowns,
and could keep our heads in the clouds.
If we skipped around barefoot,
And chased the butterflies.
If flowers blossomed all year long,
And ice-creams never melted.
If stars could twinkle for forever and a day,
And sand-castles didn't wash away.
If we freed our hearts,
And opened our minds.
If we all smiled
Rather than frowned.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
"Painting the Town: Part 1" by H Hamilton
Today we have so many ways to express ourselves: we update our facebook status, twitter and blog. The internet lets us feel like the world is listening, but the truth is that they're probably not. We can paint a picture or write a poem, but to get any real recognition we have to follow some kind of standard regulation and hope for the best that someone will see our talent.
When artists paint the walls of the town they are not only using a canvas that society is forced to see, they are using it to say 'this is who we are and this is what we have to say.'
Please peruse the following pics of the latest graffiti to hit the streets of Cape Town and enjoy the visual stimulus.
When artists paint the walls of the town they are not only using a canvas that society is forced to see, they are using it to say 'this is who we are and this is what we have to say.'
Please peruse the following pics of the latest graffiti to hit the streets of Cape Town and enjoy the visual stimulus.
Monday, August 2, 2010
"A Shaft of Light" by A Hendricks
Silence filled the dense air. Time slowed. I felt my heartbeat in my ears. Across the room I could see nothing. Darkness. Emptiness. The likes of which no human can imagine. I had been here for so long, I reeked of it. Years of decay and neglect. Incomprehensible pain and suffering. Torment beyond recognition. Before I laughed; now I cry. Prison is horror and I its victim.
I sit in a corner. It is uncomfortable. It is my home. My life was destroyed long ago. Nothing can take away the misery. My family was my only source of joy. My children gifts from Heaven. I loved them more than life itself.
Governments, police, enforcers... I was once one of them. Now I despise them. They cause me this life. I live in solitary because of them. I lost my way, my family and my life because of them.
I am old and weak. A remnant of a lost race. I cannot walk. My hands bleed. My feet rot. My soul is dead.
I once believed in God. He used to love me. I used to pray and speak to him. He betrayed me. He allowed them to take my family. They raped my wife and slit her throat. They dismembered my children and burnt them on stakes. They broke my bones and left me to die.
As I sit, I stare into the darkness. It speaks to me. Tells me of my family: how they miss me. I cannot take it any longer. For twenty years I sat in this spot. Every night the darkness torments me. I am helpless and weak. It has developed a hold on me.
The people I killed haunt me. I see their faces. They stare at me in pity. They pity the old man waiting to die. All I wish is to be free of this place. To be free of anxiety. To be free of the torment of my mind.
As I stare into the darkness, a voice beckons me. I see a pair of familiar eyes in the darkness -a familiar nose and smile. I must be dreaming. I am not. My son speaks to me and commands me to stand. I do. He tells me it's all over. He says I am free. I am told to look up. A powerful voice speaks to me. I see a bright shaft of white light. It consumes me, yet I cannot feel it.
The light lifts a part of me I have not known for a very long time. That part leaves me. I see it rise and become lost in the light.
As the light fades I feel empty. More than ever. My soul is gone. It has been taken. I have no memory, but I do not care. I am very tired. As I close my eyes I breathe in the cold, and as I exhale, I know that that breath is my last.
I sit in a corner. It is uncomfortable. It is my home. My life was destroyed long ago. Nothing can take away the misery. My family was my only source of joy. My children gifts from Heaven. I loved them more than life itself.
Governments, police, enforcers... I was once one of them. Now I despise them. They cause me this life. I live in solitary because of them. I lost my way, my family and my life because of them.
I am old and weak. A remnant of a lost race. I cannot walk. My hands bleed. My feet rot. My soul is dead.
I once believed in God. He used to love me. I used to pray and speak to him. He betrayed me. He allowed them to take my family. They raped my wife and slit her throat. They dismembered my children and burnt them on stakes. They broke my bones and left me to die.
As I sit, I stare into the darkness. It speaks to me. Tells me of my family: how they miss me. I cannot take it any longer. For twenty years I sat in this spot. Every night the darkness torments me. I am helpless and weak. It has developed a hold on me.
The people I killed haunt me. I see their faces. They stare at me in pity. They pity the old man waiting to die. All I wish is to be free of this place. To be free of anxiety. To be free of the torment of my mind.
As I stare into the darkness, a voice beckons me. I see a pair of familiar eyes in the darkness -a familiar nose and smile. I must be dreaming. I am not. My son speaks to me and commands me to stand. I do. He tells me it's all over. He says I am free. I am told to look up. A powerful voice speaks to me. I see a bright shaft of white light. It consumes me, yet I cannot feel it.
The light lifts a part of me I have not known for a very long time. That part leaves me. I see it rise and become lost in the light.
As the light fades I feel empty. More than ever. My soul is gone. It has been taken. I have no memory, but I do not care. I am very tired. As I close my eyes I breathe in the cold, and as I exhale, I know that that breath is my last.
"We are alive because..." by N Dekker
What makes us alive? Is it the chemical composition of our body, and the pumping of our hearts? Or is it something more? Is there a reason that we are alive, a special purpose; different for each individual? Many have tried to answer these questions and the mere question of why we are alive fascinates many. We are alive because... any ideas? In fact, how do we even know we are alive if we were never dead?
What makes us aware of the things around us? What makes us ask these questions and then try, painstakingly, to answer them? We learn in school that we have a heart and that the heart pumping blood and oxygen through our bodies keeps us alive. Only what does it mean to be alive? A more complicated metaphysical theory tries to answer this question. It states that everything is alive. All things are made up of energy and our senses interpret this energy. Science says that for something to be alive it has to have movement, be able to grow and reproduce. Specifically, it has to move by itself.
Another definition is somewhat narrow-minded; it states that only beings who can realise that they exist, are alive. This definition manages to exclude bacteria, plants and animals as we don't know if they realise that they exist, yet we know that they are alive. So this definition makes little sense. All these various definitons tell us that yes, we are alive. But why are we alive? That is something scientists have not yet been able to agree upon.
Are we alive because we want to be? Surely, to give up the will to live is to stop living. If this is the case, what makes you want to live? Your family, your friends, your hobbies, your passions... what? Harold Thurman, a philospher, said, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs, is people who have come alive."
What makes you feel alive? Pain, happiness, love, joy... all these feelings make us feel alive. If they make us feel alive, does the ability to feel them make us alive? The word alive is defined as having life. The word life is defined as the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally. Whatever that means, it explains a lot and leaves even more questions unanswered.
The idea of there being a purpose to life and a reason for our existence past biological reasoning is not a new one. I believe that everything happens for a reaon, both the good and the bad. If I believe this then it's not dificult to believe that there is a reason that we are alive. Richard Bach said, "Here is a test to find whether your mission on earth is finished; if you're alive, it isn't."
Do the questions actually matter? Dr. Seuss said, "Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple." Is this the case with the question of why we are alive? Are we making things seem more complicated than they really are? Maybe, maybe some day somebody will find the answers, but it's so much fun trying to figure them out. Imagine if there was just one solid answer to this question... so many hours of wondering about it would be spared! What would people do with all that spare time? Maybe, maybe it's better not knowing and asking these questions again and again, as the way that you choose to answer them is the only answer that really matters.
Morrie Schwartz said, "So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning in your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."
What makes us aware of the things around us? What makes us ask these questions and then try, painstakingly, to answer them? We learn in school that we have a heart and that the heart pumping blood and oxygen through our bodies keeps us alive. Only what does it mean to be alive? A more complicated metaphysical theory tries to answer this question. It states that everything is alive. All things are made up of energy and our senses interpret this energy. Science says that for something to be alive it has to have movement, be able to grow and reproduce. Specifically, it has to move by itself.
Another definition is somewhat narrow-minded; it states that only beings who can realise that they exist, are alive. This definition manages to exclude bacteria, plants and animals as we don't know if they realise that they exist, yet we know that they are alive. So this definition makes little sense. All these various definitons tell us that yes, we are alive. But why are we alive? That is something scientists have not yet been able to agree upon.
Are we alive because we want to be? Surely, to give up the will to live is to stop living. If this is the case, what makes you want to live? Your family, your friends, your hobbies, your passions... what? Harold Thurman, a philospher, said, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs, is people who have come alive."
What makes you feel alive? Pain, happiness, love, joy... all these feelings make us feel alive. If they make us feel alive, does the ability to feel them make us alive? The word alive is defined as having life. The word life is defined as the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally. Whatever that means, it explains a lot and leaves even more questions unanswered.
The idea of there being a purpose to life and a reason for our existence past biological reasoning is not a new one. I believe that everything happens for a reaon, both the good and the bad. If I believe this then it's not dificult to believe that there is a reason that we are alive. Richard Bach said, "Here is a test to find whether your mission on earth is finished; if you're alive, it isn't."
Do the questions actually matter? Dr. Seuss said, "Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple." Is this the case with the question of why we are alive? Are we making things seem more complicated than they really are? Maybe, maybe some day somebody will find the answers, but it's so much fun trying to figure them out. Imagine if there was just one solid answer to this question... so many hours of wondering about it would be spared! What would people do with all that spare time? Maybe, maybe it's better not knowing and asking these questions again and again, as the way that you choose to answer them is the only answer that really matters.
Morrie Schwartz said, "So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning in your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
"Just how expressive may artists in today's society be?" by Ellen Agnew
After reading an article on how an artwork had been rejected from a display for being too "offensive", I came to wonder about just how expressive artists in today's society may be?
With all the xenophobia in South Africa at the moment, and taking our apartheid past into consideration, race is a touchy subject and freedom of expression is being more frequently conserved as artists are having to question just how much freedom they are allowed.
Ayanda Mabulu's somewhat controversial paintings depicting apartheid South Africa and the late AWB leader, Eugene Terre 'Blanche, as a pig were brushed off as being "offensive" and were not allowed to go on display. The artist argued that it was not his aim to disrespect the late AWB leader, but rather to depict and "show the filthiness of that era." The organisers of the display claimed that they did not wish to cause controversy amongst the people working in their building and "felt apprehensive about the situation."
Although we are living in a society more open to the unusual portrayal of thoughts and ideas, controversy over our apartheid past seems to be taking it one step too far. It seems as though artists are having to pay the price for an audience's comfort by giving up their expressive freedom.
With all the xenophobia in South Africa at the moment, and taking our apartheid past into consideration, race is a touchy subject and freedom of expression is being more frequently conserved as artists are having to question just how much freedom they are allowed.
Ayanda Mabulu's somewhat controversial paintings depicting apartheid South Africa and the late AWB leader, Eugene Terre 'Blanche, as a pig were brushed off as being "offensive" and were not allowed to go on display. The artist argued that it was not his aim to disrespect the late AWB leader, but rather to depict and "show the filthiness of that era." The organisers of the display claimed that they did not wish to cause controversy amongst the people working in their building and "felt apprehensive about the situation."
Although we are living in a society more open to the unusual portrayal of thoughts and ideas, controversy over our apartheid past seems to be taking it one step too far. It seems as though artists are having to pay the price for an audience's comfort by giving up their expressive freedom.
"Broken Beach" by S Storey
The sand between my toes
is reassuring,
but not comforting.
The jagged rocks taunt me;
bringing to my mind
unwanted memories.
I take another step
towards the water.
Please.
Bleach my thoughts,
taint them with hope.
Howl through my ears, wind,
and drown out my sorrows.
I feel unheard
as the broken glass and shells
cut my feet
like broken dreams
shred lives.
I take another step
into the water.
The waves wash away the blood,
the pain and despair.
The salt stings,
but cleans the wound,
healing.
A lonely seagull echoes my silent cries.
My salty tears stain my cheeks.
The waves hit the shore,
Crashing steadily,
like my beating heart.
I take another step,
My cleansed soul
finding peace.
is reassuring,
but not comforting.
The jagged rocks taunt me;
bringing to my mind
unwanted memories.
I take another step
towards the water.
Please.
Bleach my thoughts,
taint them with hope.
Howl through my ears, wind,
and drown out my sorrows.
I feel unheard
as the broken glass and shells
cut my feet
like broken dreams
shred lives.
I take another step
into the water.
The waves wash away the blood,
the pain and despair.
The salt stings,
but cleans the wound,
healing.
A lonely seagull echoes my silent cries.
My salty tears stain my cheeks.
The waves hit the shore,
Crashing steadily,
like my beating heart.
I take another step,
My cleansed soul
finding peace.
"The Future of Tomorrow" by S Storey
People say that the children are the future.
They whisper to each other,
Murming in soft voices,
Trying to understand.
Are there too many fears in the world,
For it to be brought to peace?
Are there too many
Young hearts, already filled,
With hatred?
What future are the children?
Are they the end to war?
Are they justice?
Are they the free spirit,
That everyone longs for?
Are they the heroes,
Who help and heal?
Or, are they a future of silenced heart beats.
Silenced songs.
Silenced voices.
Silenced to death.
Are they a suggestion, or a question?
Are they an exclamation?
Are they the statement of defiance?
What are they?
They are the key,
But also the lock.
They bring questions without answers.
They bring innocence and guilt.
They bring themselves,
Wanting, only, to be accepted.
They bring hope, perhaps doubt.
They bring the dream of the future,
A future already clouded with dreams, ambitions and challenges.
A future that is no longer tomorrow.
The future of tomorrow,
Belongs to today.
Here are the children,
Knocking on your locked doors.
Welcome them;
They are all you have.
They whisper to each other,
Murming in soft voices,
Trying to understand.
Are there too many fears in the world,
For it to be brought to peace?
Are there too many
Young hearts, already filled,
With hatred?
What future are the children?
Are they the end to war?
Are they justice?
Are they the free spirit,
That everyone longs for?
Are they the heroes,
Who help and heal?
Or, are they a future of silenced heart beats.
Silenced songs.
Silenced voices.
Silenced to death.
Are they a suggestion, or a question?
Are they an exclamation?
Are they the statement of defiance?
What are they?
They are the key,
But also the lock.
They bring questions without answers.
They bring innocence and guilt.
They bring themselves,
Wanting, only, to be accepted.
They bring hope, perhaps doubt.
They bring the dream of the future,
A future already clouded with dreams, ambitions and challenges.
A future that is no longer tomorrow.
The future of tomorrow,
Belongs to today.
Here are the children,
Knocking on your locked doors.
Welcome them;
They are all you have.
"The Youth of our Nation" by Gemma Tennick
We are today, we command tomorrow
Our words are what you should be following,
So don't that mean you got to be listening
To what we have to say?
We're the future, we've got to fit somewhere
You'll blame us if we sit and go nowhere
We're the ones who really matter,
At least that's what you always say.
You've put us in charge of climbing the ladder
But we've got no say in where that leads
You only care that we climb higher,
Cursing if we fall off course.
We speak up but you're not interested
Your version of our future is kind of twisted.
I mean, we don't really get to choose,
Does it even really matter to you?
You never know, we could have a solution
To global warming or even pollution
But you'll never know, 'cause you'd never ask
Maybe the world just lost its chance.
We're the ones who really matter
We're the ones who'll be in control
We're the ones who'll do it better
State of the world's proof of that.
Our voices are lost, just a buzz in the crowd
But still you shoult at us telling us to quiet down
On the other hand, "Stand up for what you believe in'
"Hey don't stand now, wait for the news guy to finish."
You really don't care, you're saying it 'cause you've got to
Why don't you see that's not what we want you to
We want you to listen and see our words do matter
We don't want to watch the fat cat get fatter.
Listen, we could say it a 1000 times,
A million. But our voices disappear into oblivion
You're more than just deaf if you can't hear the screaming
But don't you know you're losing, not winning.
You're losing us, you're losing what we have
Then it's our fault if things go bad
We can't be blamed if we never got a shot
To fix it all...and just give it what we've got.
Give us a voice and watch things change
It's time we moved into a brand new age
Stubbornness and pride will lead to your demise
Swallow it...teach us how to be wise.
We're the ones who really matter
We're the ones who'll be in control
We're the ones who'll do it better
The youth of our nation is proof of that.
Our words are what you should be following,
So don't that mean you got to be listening
To what we have to say?
We're the future, we've got to fit somewhere
You'll blame us if we sit and go nowhere
We're the ones who really matter,
At least that's what you always say.
You've put us in charge of climbing the ladder
But we've got no say in where that leads
You only care that we climb higher,
Cursing if we fall off course.
We speak up but you're not interested
Your version of our future is kind of twisted.
I mean, we don't really get to choose,
Does it even really matter to you?
You never know, we could have a solution
To global warming or even pollution
But you'll never know, 'cause you'd never ask
Maybe the world just lost its chance.
We're the ones who really matter
We're the ones who'll be in control
We're the ones who'll do it better
State of the world's proof of that.
Our voices are lost, just a buzz in the crowd
But still you shoult at us telling us to quiet down
On the other hand, "Stand up for what you believe in'
"Hey don't stand now, wait for the news guy to finish."
You really don't care, you're saying it 'cause you've got to
Why don't you see that's not what we want you to
We want you to listen and see our words do matter
We don't want to watch the fat cat get fatter.
Listen, we could say it a 1000 times,
A million. But our voices disappear into oblivion
You're more than just deaf if you can't hear the screaming
But don't you know you're losing, not winning.
You're losing us, you're losing what we have
Then it's our fault if things go bad
We can't be blamed if we never got a shot
To fix it all...and just give it what we've got.
Give us a voice and watch things change
It's time we moved into a brand new age
Stubbornness and pride will lead to your demise
Swallow it...teach us how to be wise.
We're the ones who really matter
We're the ones who'll be in control
We're the ones who'll do it better
The youth of our nation is proof of that.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
"The relevance of school Chapel services" by L Botha
A topic of much discussion, usually on a Friday at about ten o'clock, is why Somerset College offers a chapel service for all students and interested staff members.
As those who are normally discussing the topic are students who have not particularly enjoyed - or found value - in the service, the commentary is often negative. Recently I have thought about why Somerset College offers a chapel service that is compulsory to all students, even though the College strives to be an environment that is welcoming and friendly to all religious groups. Surely favouring one religious group above the others is a contradiction to this ethos?
The first reason that comes to mind, and most likely, to the minds of others is that Somerset College is a Christian school. The College strives not only to give each student the necessary knowledge to handle the world, but also to bestow on each student a sound set of moral values that will enrich both their own and the lives of others. This is a worthy goal; surely it is worth the less than an hour that is spent on it every week?
However, as I thought further on the subject, in large part due to the inevitable discussion on the subject every Friday, I started to realised that there was another reason that the College holds a chapel service every week. Tradition. Chapel services are, not only in South Africa but in many other schools around the world, an expected part of school life. In almost every school I have heard of there are a few certainties: Assembly on Mondays, homework during the week and Chapel on Fridays.
I have never heard this reason spoken out loud before and I don't think that it is often recognized, or particularly appreciated when it is. It would seem odd for a prestigiuos school, like Somerset College, not to have a Chapel service at least once a week. Now that I have had this thought, I can't help but wonder if this isn't the real reason why we have Chapel every Friday. If this is the case, the argument that the aim of Chapel is to teach a sound moral system seems less meaningful. However, I think that there are ways to put this time to valuable use.
I don't think that Chapel should be removed as a part of College life. The moral lessons brought across by medium of religion are valuable and life enhancing. I just think that it should be every person's own choice on the way that they want to go about acquiring them. The saying goes, "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink"; forcing students who gain nothing from Chapel services to attend them causes resentment and achieves nothing. Giving students the choice of whether to attend Chapel or not will make it more valuable for those who do go as they can be sure that they are going for their own benefit and not in order to uphold the school's reputation.
As those who are normally discussing the topic are students who have not particularly enjoyed - or found value - in the service, the commentary is often negative. Recently I have thought about why Somerset College offers a chapel service that is compulsory to all students, even though the College strives to be an environment that is welcoming and friendly to all religious groups. Surely favouring one religious group above the others is a contradiction to this ethos?
The first reason that comes to mind, and most likely, to the minds of others is that Somerset College is a Christian school. The College strives not only to give each student the necessary knowledge to handle the world, but also to bestow on each student a sound set of moral values that will enrich both their own and the lives of others. This is a worthy goal; surely it is worth the less than an hour that is spent on it every week?
However, as I thought further on the subject, in large part due to the inevitable discussion on the subject every Friday, I started to realised that there was another reason that the College holds a chapel service every week. Tradition. Chapel services are, not only in South Africa but in many other schools around the world, an expected part of school life. In almost every school I have heard of there are a few certainties: Assembly on Mondays, homework during the week and Chapel on Fridays.
I have never heard this reason spoken out loud before and I don't think that it is often recognized, or particularly appreciated when it is. It would seem odd for a prestigiuos school, like Somerset College, not to have a Chapel service at least once a week. Now that I have had this thought, I can't help but wonder if this isn't the real reason why we have Chapel every Friday. If this is the case, the argument that the aim of Chapel is to teach a sound moral system seems less meaningful. However, I think that there are ways to put this time to valuable use.
I don't think that Chapel should be removed as a part of College life. The moral lessons brought across by medium of religion are valuable and life enhancing. I just think that it should be every person's own choice on the way that they want to go about acquiring them. The saying goes, "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink"; forcing students who gain nothing from Chapel services to attend them causes resentment and achieves nothing. Giving students the choice of whether to attend Chapel or not will make it more valuable for those who do go as they can be sure that they are going for their own benefit and not in order to uphold the school's reputation.
"Fences" by Sakura Nakada
Fences
Do give hope; do give pain.
They let you see what you can reach.
They let you see the unreachable.
They are "important work" you know,
"Important do our country.
You'll understand that some day."
It's simple.
They keep them out.
They keep us safe.
They make order out of chaos.
They make life black and white.
But,
Like the air that smothers life,
Like the smell of burning bodies,
They are here and there
They are then and now
They are the fences that weave in and out
throughout history
The chuckles of amazement at life's small surprises extinguished by the
sound of
fleeing feet,
the fight for familiar faces' freedom.
What's the difference between that side and this one? Does it matter?
Only the choice of the hand of life and death
Only the lies and stories made up
Only the depiction of propaganda's prejudice and pitying pain
Only the division
Only the separation
Only the loss of humanity
Matter...
Fences
Do give hope; do give pain.
They let you reach what you can see.
They let you see the unreachable.
Do give hope; do give pain.
They let you see what you can reach.
They let you see the unreachable.
They are "important work" you know,
"Important do our country.
You'll understand that some day."
It's simple.
They keep them out.
They keep us safe.
They make order out of chaos.
They make life black and white.
But,
Like the air that smothers life,
Like the smell of burning bodies,
They are here and there
They are then and now
They are the fences that weave in and out
throughout history
The chuckles of amazement at life's small surprises extinguished by the
sound of
fleeing feet,
the fight for familiar faces' freedom.
What's the difference between that side and this one? Does it matter?
Only the choice of the hand of life and death
Only the lies and stories made up
Only the depiction of propaganda's prejudice and pitying pain
Only the division
Only the separation
Only the loss of humanity
Matter...
Fences
Do give hope; do give pain.
They let you reach what you can see.
They let you see the unreachable.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)