Reminiscing the University of Pennsylvania

The opportunity that I was given to attend the University of Pennsylvania went by faster than I ever thought it would. The day I left felt like the first day I stepped into Philadelphia was only yesterday. I walked into the Quadrangle not knowing what I would expect. The only thing I knew were the people I came there with – Allonna, Chris, and Diana. I was released in an unfamiliar environment to adapt, learn, grow, and be strong representatives for our area. As I returned, I became more developed in my mindset, personality, beliefs, goals, and overall character from when I left the Bay Area. If it weren’t for the University of Pennsylvania, I don’t believe I would be as exposed and understanding to the world I have been living in my whole life.

From the Beginning

From the moment I had stepped onto the campus, I felt at home. The program directors, other students, and the dorm counselors made the UPENN campus feel extremely welcoming. All, were friendly and filled with eager and excitement to be and have us there. There were plenty RC’s around who helped us with our bags and showed us to our dorms. We were given tours of the Quad, campus, and “home” area to familiarize our surroundings. This hospitality and their positive attitudes made adjusting to the new area comforting and easy. The vibes and mood I sensed of the campus allowed me to feel comfortable being myself and opening up to new people. No one was judgmental and accepting of one another. It wasn’t difficult to grow so attached to the university.

At UPENN, I was always encouraged to experience new things. I was given plenty of opportunities to make new friends, know the people in my dorm, and have space to myself to settle into my dorm; we had ice breakers for an entire week. There were activity sign-ups for throughout the week with a variety of choices to choose from. The activities ranged from Phillies games, to the mall, ice skating, laser tag, magic garden (garden filled with mosaics and flowers), movie dates, duck tours, spa nights, talent shows, cheese steak days, trivia nights, and so much more. With all of these activities to choose from, it was hard not finding something that you would be interested in or even trying out for the first time. I am a major fan of baseball and the San Francisco Giants. Experiencing a free baseball game at a beautiful stadium could not get any better than the opportunity PENN had offered me. Along that trip, I also met a new friend from San Jose who’s a Giant’s fan too – we still keep in contact today.

Aside from the spectacular events they had lined up for us, the university had entrusted with us a great amount of independence. UPENN treated me as an actual undergraduate student enrolled at the school. I was living on the campus, I was expected to handle all my business, and I could walk anywhere within the “home” area and throughout campus with the comfort of knowing I was in a safe environment. I never was once scared or felt as if I were in danger or at risk. It was always best to go places with a buddy, but being alone never bothered me. I was independent and free – to an extent. I was in control of what I wanted to do, when I would do something, where I pleased to go, etc. I was still required to follow within the program’s boundaries and rules, but this opportunity gave me a taste of the college life and real world. I never really had this much leisure and independence back home, so when I first found out this would be my lifestyle for three weeks, I did my best to enjoy and take advantage of it. I explored the campus and home area, tried new food restaurants, and did my own thing. Getting a feel of Philadelphia and the University of Pennsylvania, I knew I belonged there.

With this great amount of privilege, I had at UPENN, came an equal amount of responsibility and trustworthiness that coincided with it. All students were required to go to class on their own, get up on their own, complete all assignments, be in your room by a certain time, follow all of the given rules, etc. Upholding my end to these requirements was not hard, at least I thought.  Before I came to the University of Pennsylvania, I was naïve. I convinced myself that I could handle anything that was thrown my way, including the college life. Being at this prestigious university, I received a major reality check throughout my time there. I juggled between class, homework, and blogging along with giving myself enough time to participate in activities and get enough sleep for the next day. I had underestimated the energy it would take me to handle all of these efficiently.

Class was at least six hours each day with an hour in-between for lunch. The homework consisted of article readings, watching Ted-Talks or videos, and responding to discussion questions in relation to the topic of the day as well as a final capstone project with scholarly research. Trying to complete my daily responsibilities along with getting enough rest and down time was harder than I had anticipated. I began working through a system to where I would sleep for a few hours then stay awake the rest of the night completing my all my work and blogs before class started; it wasn’t the best system. This worked for the first week but after that, I began knocking out right when I got to my dorm room until sign-in time near 11:00 PM. As I got back, I would knockout again. Because I didn’t learn how to manage my time and allowed procrastination to get the best of me, I began falling behind in my blogs. I was aware of the challenges I would have prior to actually attending PENN when it was explained to me, but I never fully grasped the understanding of it until my warning became my reality. I, of course, got back on top of this...eventually. From what I learned out of this is experience, I will use best to my advantage in preparation of my future. This includes focusing my attention on skills such as time-management, multitasking, researching, and balancing out my budget. This lesson was only one of many I would have coming my way.

As I first started the Social Justice Research Academy, I thought I knew about Social Justice and the real things occurring in society – I didn’t. I was ignorant, more than I thought I was. Each day we unpacked an intriguing new topic ranging from the death penalty, LBGTQ+ community, race and policing, disabilities, social impact, violence against women, religion and discrimination, environmental injustices, poverty and housing, and the list goes on. We went into depth of what each topic is, why it’s considered as a social justice issue, viewed films about these issues, what causes these societal problems, etc. We participated in interactive activities such as listening to one another’s thoughts about these concerns and discussed ways that we could actually change this within our society in discussion groups, built our own ideal education system, taught the class about gender, sex, and sex category. Outside of class, we were taken through different parts of Philadelphia where we visually learned about these issues in museums dedicated to the topic we were learning about or different neighborhoods where these injustices are occurring in. The program helped us learn more about each other and the areas and backgrounds in which we all come from.

To the Middle

If I was not a part of the Social Justice Research Academy, I would not have fully understood the meaning or the history tying into today’s problems or even the real meaning of some of our topics. For example, the discrimination leading back toward the segregation times had, and still does, a major effect to housing locations and conditions of where people of color were living, the majority of them in poverty. Moving into a better neighborhood was made difficult due to the pricing and the violence used against them. In third world countries, young girls are getting kidnapped, raped, then married to the abductor as a part of the culture there. When you’re disabled, the real struggle is not just dealing with your disability, but the way in which you are treated by society for having that disability or accommodating to a world that is not accessible to you. Gender is a way of identifying with how you perceive yourself or who you define yourself as while sex, is the physical genitalia you were born with, and sex category is the male, female, transgender category in which you are labeled in society. These few things are only scratching the surface of what we uncovered.

Throughout the program, there has been a few things that stood out the most to me. As we learned for three weeks in class, we had touched upon the areas of privilege and social impact. Many of us are unaware of and don’t appreciate enough of having the things that we do or for who we are as individuals. There are things that put you at an advantage or disadvantage within our society that may or may not be able to control. Those things may be the gender you identify as or sex you were born, your race, social class, income, and the list goes on. For those areas you are at a disadvantage at, you may have wealth somewhere else such as a family, home, higher education, etc. A lot of these things can be turned beneficial depending on the choices you make. Every choice that we decide upon has an effect on not only our lives but the rest of society, whether it’s large or small. A decision you may view as so small or insignificant may lead to a great deal of change later on down the road. Even I had not realized this before until it was broken down right in front of my eyes. Learning this has made me feel more appreciative of my life and resources I have I never considered before.

Without the support of Professor Hansen, along with the TA’s, dissecting each issue with a guest speaker, I would not have absorbed so much knowledge and gained a deeper understanding of the society we’re living in. Towards the beginning of class, all of them would rotate days to instruct or break down a topic before going into further detail about it. This way of teaching allowed me to follow the lesson plan with ease if I had little knowledge of the topic itself. They have exposed me to so many different ways of learning and perspectives that I have never even thought of before. They encouraged me to think with an open mindset, use different methods of problem-solving, become interactive, and find my own definition of what social justice is.

During my time in the Social Justice Research Academy, I learned about the definition of Social Justice. The reality of this definition is that there is no specific meaning to these two words – we create our own meaning. What people see as a social justice varies on perspective of that individual along with what they choose to do about it. It’s not something everyone will agree on or even believe in and is realistically, something that seems futile to achieve. But, if we do not give any attempt to change this, these results will remain that way. My definition of Social Justice means balancing out our society to where everyone has access to resources, opportunity, education, affordable living areas, medication, health or support services, food, etc. or to where everyone has a fair chance at surviving. It will be challenging trying to achieve this with history being known to repeat along with long-lasted societal constructs and stereotypes, but a small effort can influence a change to be slowly implemented.

I have been educated greatly in ways that I could not have received from a more fitting university than UPENN. The many lessons I was taught, were instructed within the boundaries of the classroom as well as beyond the historic walls. Those lessons reflected on life, society, and the pursuit of seeking justice for all as we were promised back when this nation was formed. I chose to participate in the Social Justice Research Academy to learn these life lessons and find ways to apply it to my life and the ones surrounding me. With the knowledge I gained from this program, I know I can make an impact in the world in some way. This school, and program, has helped further guide me along the path in pursuing my passion and hopefully transforming into my future career. I longed to expand my horizons and actually open my eyes up to the things occurring around me that are overlooked too often or are underrepresented, and give those people a voice that the world will hear. Thanks to the University of Pennsylvania, the Social Justice Research Academy, the ILC, and others included, I am one step closer to achieving this.

Each day I spent at UPENN, I did my best to make each day last to its fullest extent. Day by day, the time had just been disappearing faster than I could even blink. I still cannot believe my time there has vanished so fast. I still reminisce on the little details of the campus, program, Philadelphia, and the people as if I were still residing there. I developed a deep attachment and love for UPENN that grew immensely after each day. If I stayed longer, I probably would’ve had attachment issues by the time arrived for me to depart and return back to my original home, the Bay Area. Looking back at this adventure of a lifetime, I already know this is the highlight of my year and I am proud to state, Philadelphia and the University of Pennsylvania, will always be my other extended home.

Through the End

Discovering Too Late

*note: this blog is an entry from 7-20*

With having only one more day to prepare for our final capstone projects, Professor Hansen was generous enough to actually dedicate the beginning of the day for us to focus on them. During this time, we could go to the library, get help from Professor Hansen or the other student teachers, or just finish up what we have already started independently. I took this opportunity to get permission from my group leader, Yun, to go to Biddle Law Library in search for cases in relation to domestic violence or even help from someone who works there to steer me in the right direction.

Biddle Law Library is located past the PENN bookstore and along Samson St. I found out how to get there earlier in the week so I could access this help sooner. The time it took me to finally figure out that the library was within the law building, it was almost closing time and the only people who could help at the Information desk were gone for the day. I was annoyed and disappointed. The library itself is spacious and beautiful. My eyes had lit up the first time I stepped through the doors; I was dumbfounded. It made me sad that I only entered this library the last week I would be here. I wish I had discovered this library sooner; if I had, most of my free time probably would have been occupied there. Leaving was as difficult as finding the library. It took me five minutes of wandering around to figure out that I couldn’t leave the way I came. I asked another college student for help getting me out of there and he showed me the way and understanding my confusion being my first time in the library. Next time, I for sure made it my goal not to make the same mistakes twice.

I walked up the limestone steps and into the grand building known as the Law School. I turned left past the security desk and down the hall passing the brick walls with hanging paintings of past deans of the school and floors made of tiled limestone. Step by step, I walked up the staircase leading me to the entrance of Biddle Law Library. I opened the one way doors and went straight to the information desk.

Entrance of Biddle Law Library

The librarian there was busy typing away on his desktop before I had approached him. Polite and pleasant, he asked me what I needed help with. I explained to him about my capstone project and what information I was seeking and asked him for help trying to access it. Naïve as I was, he simply told me that I would not be able to access specific cases in relation to domestic violence and testimonial from children because they’re to be sealed from the public because of their age. After being in Law and Justice for two years, that had completely slipped my mind making me feel so stupid since I already knew that. The librarian had instead, showed me to a nearby desktop and showed me how to access other scholarly sources using the LexisNexis Academic search engine from the PENN Library website. He explained to me which sources to look at and which would be most helpful to me then showed me how to limit the results so all that appears will be useful to me. I was completely grateful for his help because I would not have figured that out and gained all of my information without him. I thanked him and continued along with my research.

I spent about thirty minutes doing research on the library desktop before I had to return back to class. I was reading through so many articles that I began to memorize everything as if I already knew it prior. My time there was peaceful and productive to my research gaining valuable information for the project such as how Florida is putting in effort to build resource centers for battered women, to educate parents on how to take care of a child, community centers, and domestic violence centers to help lower the rates of child abuse and domestic violence within the state.  I wish I could have extended my time longer there but we were all required to meet back at McNeil by 11:30 AM and it was already 11:15 AM. I closed all of my tabs and headed out of the library.

Hall of  Penn Law School Displaying Portraits of  Past Deans

I knew it wouldn’t take fifteen minutes to make it back to class but I wanted enough time to stop by the farmer’s market on the way back. I haven’t been to a farmer’s market in at least a year. I loved going there so much back home that I would go all the time with my dad early in the morning; a rush of memories started flooding my mind. The best part about farmer’s markets is the freshly made food that is sold by different prospering companies. There is always a variety of things being sold like fruit, vegetables, baked goods, etc. This farmer’s market was set up along the sidewalk of the block with Urban Outfitters and the PENN Bookstore. It was smaller than what I was used to seeing but was the highlight of my day. While I was there, I purchased a chocolate muffin from a vendor selling baked goods such as bread and cookies. He had a good sense of humor turning my question of “Can I buy something?” into a light-hearted joke. I don’t know why I ask the obvious questions but it just comes out my mouth. As he handed me my muffin, I asked the times that the small market was out here selling. He responded nicely telling me that they were there every Wednesday from 9:00 AM – 5:00 PM. The same saddened feeling I had when I found the Biddle Law Library so late in my time here at PENN returned back to my body. Everything I had come across was all for the last time and made me long for it even more. I made it my goal to go to a farmer’s market when I return home. I thanked the man and wished him a good day and returned on my way back to class.

Walking down Locust Walk, I encountered Diana on her way back to McNeil too. She had come from Van Pelt Library conducting research for her project as well. She told me it was difficult concentrating on her project in McNeil so she asked her TA, Diamond, to go to Van Pelt. Understanding her situation, I told her I’m the same way as we walked up the stairs back to our class on the second floor. As we entered the room, almost everyone was still working their project. After about five more minutes, the professor had asked everyone to wrap up what they were working on and get ready to head out for lunch. Many of us worked up an appetite doing such consistent and studious work we were ready to chow down. Eager to eat my muffin, I unwrapped the chocolate starch and broke a piece off and popped it into my mouth. It was delicious. I shared some with Diana as we headed down to Houston Market for lunch with Chris and Sam.

The rest of the day went by in a breeze. From our discussion groups to the end of class, it all ended before I knew it. All that I could think about was how our final days were drawing near and we would be leaving within just a few days, that, and my capstone project. This entire trip has felt as if I had dreamed it all in my mind. I needed to make every day last as long as possible while I’m still there. For the rest of the night, I  dedicated my time to do more research on my project so I would be fully prepared for my presentation in two days. 

Learning Beyond the Eyes

*note: this blog is an entry from 7-19*

In this world, whether we can see it or not, there are people who are struggling because of an impairment of a major life function. The impairment itself is not the whole reason to the hardships they go through, but because of the way they become treated by the rest of society for having this impairment. This a major social justice issue that is going on today that many people are unaware about. Professor Hansen had introduced us to this topic today of disabilities along with our guest speakers of the day, Dr. Kelly George and Ms. Clare Mullaney.

Dr. George and Ms. Mullaney, had a PowerPoint open and ready to go once they had walked through the classroom doors along with a lesson plan for our entire class. Both ladies had strong energy in their voices along with passion for what they do to help bring justice to this group of people; I could tell this was about to be a lively session. These ladies started us off with explaining to us why disabilities are a social justice issue and what it is exactly. These groups of people often become exception to civil rights verses other groups of people and are treated unjust. The word “disabilities” holds multiple meanings to it.  People use it as a polite word, legislative term, to refer to someone as “different” or as a community of people. These people are often restricted to be known only for their disability and not who they are as a person. Many choose preference in being referred to as disabled people because it identifies them as a person but describes the disability as a part of them.

Slide From Dr. George and Ms. Mullaney's Presentation

As a way to get us to comprehend the information being delivered to us and so we don’t fall asleep on them. We were to define what it was to have a disability, an ability, and to be normal. In ten minutes my hand was flowing jotting down my own interpretations of what each of these were to me. I defined disability to be under represented. There are disadvantages to where people with these may not be able to perform the same way as others and also classifies them into a select group to where people deem them as helpless. They become treated in isolation from society or as if they’re fragile glasses that will break in one touch. For those with disabilities that are not physical, it’s hard finding the right attention or care for them. The main reason I chose under represented was because of my mom. She has back problems and a heart condition which prevents her from working or being eligible to find work with ease. She is fighting Social Security for aid that she needs but has not been able to receive. This is not fair representation from the government for the people like my mom; I’m sure that there are even more people out there who are fighting for similar reasons such as my mom.

I defined ability as an attribute or capability. People with ability have the privilege of having a functioning body system – mental, physical, emotional, etc. There are no restrictions to what you’re capable of doing as an average person. Your legs can help you walk, your eyes give you vision, your ears give you hearing, your mind or ability to learn is not obstructed by a condition; you have ability. Even without a 100% functioning system, you can still have ability. You may be capable of playing multiple instruments, or painting as if you were Picasso or Van Gough, or even having a voice as powerful as Whitney Houston; that is ability.

My definition of normal is versatile. Everything within the world is constantly changing including what is considered normal. Back in the 40’s it wouldn’t be normal to see a biracial child or couple, it wouldn’t be normal to see same sex couples, it wouldn’t be normal for women to be working; today, all these are something you could see almost anywhere and among society. Something normal is based on perspective, exposure, and the likeliness of seeing it. The Bay Area is a diverse place and an area that I feel has great acceptance for others. Coming to the East Coast, I have met many people with different views that I am not used to seeing and I would consider absurd but would be normal to them and the area that they come from.

"I Know" Imitation of Blind Writing

Ending our intriguing lesson, we returned back after we finished eating for our fieldtrip to a museum called, “Common Touch” that focuses on the history of the blind. Through walking and the subway ride, it took us about twenty minutes to get there. I was in awe as I observed my surroundings. We had crossed into the Gayborhood of Philadelphia and it looked the same as it did in the images as our previous guest speaker, Mike Krasulski. There were rainbow crossroads, underneath street signs, and flags throughout the streets. It was creative and beautiful to be in sight of.

Finally arriving at the Library Company, Common Touch Museum, we had turned into a small room where we were all seated in a circle. There were two speakers who reviewed to us about what disabilities was and what this museum was about. Having already learned this before we had left it seemed a bit redundant to have the same speech given to us. Instead, our two guides had discussed with us about life was like to be blind. Our particular focus was while competing in sports. If a track runner was blind, they would run with another person in front of them guiding them where to go. Because they are attached to one another, the movements that the person in front of them makes the blind person can feel. For example, when the person in front jumps over a curb or turns a corner, the vision impaired person can feel the turn or small leap.

Owl Created by Ms. Jayne

Our group was then led into another room with different displays protected in glass case barriers showing to us different forms in which the blind had learned. Everything in the exhibit was created by Theresa Jaynes, the museum founder. Not knowing the alphabet, the blind had learned to write their own version of it based off of what they imagined the structure of each letter within their mind. Ms. Jaynes had used large metal letters spelling out the phrase, “I know” and displayed some of the hand-written entries from blind people showing some examples of what their alphabet had appeared. To learn about the density of an object, they used large wooden shapes and figures and held it in their hands feeling its weight, shape, and size. On a small table in the corner of the room, laid several different objects where we were able to pick up and flee for ourselves. When they were taught about animals, they used their sense of touch to feel different animal figures to give them an idea of what each had looked like or features and characteristics each had. A papier-mâché owl was created with soft feather-like fabric along the exterior with a sharp wooden beak resembling how it would feel if one were to touch it.

My favorite part of the museum was guiding my eyes in the glass in a back room at the different passages of Braille. There were prayers in Braille plastered on the wall along with the braille alphabet and word contractions, along with books with three-dimensional letters, maps, and images. As I was reading along each display, Professor Hansen had pointed out in one of the labels that Braille was originally made and used in the military to send secret messages to and between stationed troops during the night or bases. Learning this gave me inspiration to want to learn braille on my own. It was soon time for us to depart this unique museum and back to the university. We thanked Ms. Jayne and our other guides and embarked our way back to our summer home. 

The Lord's Prayer Displayed in Braille 

Expression of the Oppression

*note: this blog is an entry from 7-18*

Returning back to class from an unforgettable weekend, I was a bit worn down, but ready to be mind-blown unpacking our new topic of the day, the Death Penalty. I didn’t know much about what was going on with the death penalty in the real world. It wasn’t until John took us to DC towards the beginning of the ILC journey, where I first heard about what was going on by standing in front of the Capitol Building listening to a man share his thoughts about the death penalty in front of a small crowd for about five minutes. It was interesting and eye-opening to how our criminal justice system is working. I was prepared and intrigued to hear about what our guest speakers, Marc Bookman and Dana Cook had to say about this controversial issue.

Death Penalty Protest  *link to death penalty protest in DC*

Mr. Bookman is a lawyer himself. He started us off by breaking down his interpretation of the death penalty to us in an explicit way. The death penalty itself is simply just a legal outgrowth of lynching. When the death penalty was first in establishment, it was used to target black men with accusations of raping white women. Even today, the results of the men on trial still remain the same. What doesn’t help this scenario is the horrible representation that the defense has to support their case through trial and the lack of resources focused on the cases.  Many of the convictions that go through are done with ignoring the presented evidence, with no DNA evidence, or no evidence at all. Most of the lawyers who defend these types of cases have no experience or knowledge in regards to it. They can be trained in an entirely different field and still be eligible for these cases; all they need is to manage six cases win or lose. The way this system was made was only for money saving purposes; why invest time and money into doing it right the first time when cutting back won’t cost a dime? The reality of this mentality is immoral and contradicting. The amount of money that it takes to give a lethal injection to a person costs two to three times more money than it does to keep them alive for life sentencing. The judges or authority figures who push for the death penalty more than life sentencing are only trying to make themselves appear tough on crime for the sake of their jobs and not justice.

Miss Cook is a mitigation specialist. Her job is to find out information or the story of her defending client as well as their mental or psychological state of being. Doing this helps bring a stronger defense to the trial by showing what type of person the defendant is giving the jury and judge some background about them. They also talk to family members and those close to the defendant to uncover this information. A lot of the times, the information found out is not pleasant or something that the defendant would not want people knowing, like sexual abuse. The mitigation specialists are the real help towards the defense. They coordinate with specialists or experts to run tests, give testimony, and evaluations for the defendant along with developing a strong evidence based case for them. These specialists are more trained than most of the lawyers that are given to represent, without them, the defendant would be at an even further disadvantage.

Guerrillero Okulto Performing

Our speakers ended their presentation with a story from Mr. Bookman. He was watching the Lion King with his six-year-old daughter. Scar had killed Mufasa and tried framing Simba so he could claim to become the leader of the pride lands. The only way that this could be settled was a duel between the two off them. Simba knew he wasn’t the one responsible for his father’s death but had to continue with the traditions. Towards the end of the movie, Scar had almost fallen off the edge of the cliff and with one push he could’ve been killed. As Simba moved closer to him, Scar had told him to do it, to push him off. Simba refused proving that he wasn’t a killer like him. Mr. Bookman had asked his daughter before this part had shown asking her what she thinks that Simba should do, push him off, or let him live. His daughter replied saying that he shouldn’t because killing is wrong and that would make Simba no better than Scar. The point of this story was that if a six-year-old can interpret and understand how wrong it is killing someone is as a way of achieving justice, then the death penalty should not be an option. A person’s life is on the line, more care and legitimate resources should be put into better effort for these types of cases.

In the afternoon, we were introduced to a film called “Estilo Hip Hop.” This is film was created by our new guest speaker, Loira Limbal and her team. The setting takes place within multiple countries in South America including Brazil, Cuba, and Chile telling the stories of three different people expressing how they used Hip Hop and Rap as a way of political activism and an outlet for their life struggles. Watching this independent film, it was hard not growing a connection with the characters. Guerrillero Okulto was in the process of fighting for the custody of his two daughters, keeping his job as a landscaper, as well as fighting the brutality going on in Chile. Growing up, his family was always struggling with space to live and financial needs. He turned to music and rap as a way of expressing the problems he and most people are facing including police brutality. Eli Efi similarly used music as political activism to fight the police brutality that the government had been enforcing on the people in Brazil. They were being shot at, run over, beaten, all resulting with the death of the people who were targeted. From Cuba was artist, Magia. She was never into rap and hip hop until she met her husband. Hip Hop was his passion and being a supportive girlfriend, at the time, she developed it as hers. They perform together speaking out about multiple issues, one of their main focuses being women’s rights and respect.

Ms. Loira Limbal

After the movie had ended, Ms. Limbal had answered our questions about the film and the people in it. She told us it took her and her team over ten years to complete Estilo Hip Hop. They had to fly out from New York to Brazil, Chile, and Cuba back and forth to get all of the footage that they needed. Sometimes it would be risky recording because they weren’t allowed to record without a permit and could be arrested, especially in Cuba. Other times it would be because of what they would be recording such as the police and brutality going on which put their lives in jeopardy. These factors also played into action for extending the time it took to finish and release the film.

Reflecting on our society, I was amazed to see how Hip Hop has played a major role in people’s lives from all over the world in expression of their oppression. Listening to the raw rhymes of these talented street artists reminded me much of certain rap artists from back in the 90’s and a few songs and artists today such as Tupac, the N.W.A., the Notorious B.I.G, Kendrick Lamar, etc. They may not be as vulgar as a couple of the artists I compared them to but they all have similar inspirations for doing what they do and making a social change within their own ways. People like these make Rap and Hip Hop even more influential and powerful on society and gives strength to those that are unrepresented and who can relate to the messages being sent. 

7/23 Tastes Like Home

5:30 AM is the time I woke up for the day I would finally return home. I set an alarm so I would have the chance to say my final goodbye to my friend before he left at 6:15 AM. Him being very busy, I wasn’t able to in person. I decided to send him a snap chat goodbye before it was time for him to leave instead. I felt disappointed that it wasn’t a real goodbye but it was better than not saying anything at all.

I went back to sleep for about an hour before packing up the rest of my belongings. Fitting everything in my luggage was harder than I remembered it being when I was first packing to come out to Philly. I had to sit on my bag while zipping it closed to make it easier to ensure its security. I made a final clean throughout my room and tossed out all my garbage near the trash chute. On the way back to my vacant room, I saw so many people walking all over the Quad with large rolling boxes filled with their things or soon to be filled. Their parents and RC’s aiding them and other students crying while saying their final goodbyes to one another. A depressing and solemn feeling grew within my stomach facing the reality that this was it; most of us would never see each other again, at least not for a while.

I unlocked the door to my dorm building, Leidy, walked up the four, dusty, black, stairs, turned left into the quiet hallway, and to the second door on the left was the final time I would unlock my room door. Time was running out for me. 10:00 AM came closer than I had hoped it would for when the airport shuttle would come pick us up with John to leave UPENN for the rest of the summer. I picked up the handles of my luggage and rolled out the door. I paused for a minute to imprint a mental image into my mind of what was no longer my room. I sad smile appeared on my face as I reminisced the memories of me rushing in and out of the room to make it on time for class, working on my homework late at night, lugging my laundry over my shoulder in and out, and my favorite one, the time when I first walked into my room the first day I was there. I remembered all these emotions and feelings as if it just happened yesterday. It felt as if I just unpacked the same morning I was leaving. I turned my head around and took those final steps out my door, out the hallway, down the stairs, and out of Leidy for the final time. 

Rolling my way through the Quad, I forgot the struggle I had carrying my luggage when I first came out here. It was such a nuisance. I signed out in the main office and headed to outside the gates the Quad where I would return my room keys. I was trying so hard to get my things done so I wouldn’t delay the group from getting to the airport. I signed in my keys to the front office and met with John, Diana, Chris, and Allonna in the front. Before walking to the shuttle bus, I looked through the automatic gates of the Quadrangle letting go all the sadness I had built up and locked in all of my summer experience in a safe in my mind and heart that I know will never fade away. We each stepped into the van and sat there as we pulled off the side of the road and to the airport.

Group Picture at Chickee Pete's

The time it took to go through the airport procedures it was around 11:00 AM. All of us were starving. John decided to take us to a little restaurant inside of the airport called Chickee Pete’s where we ate for the last time together as an ILC PENN Cohort. I ordered a chicken parmesan sandwich and had crab fries to share all together. I wish we all ate together more often while we resided at UPENN. I never would have thought we would be so preoccupied with our class, work, and activities at the university program that we would barely have time for ourselves. We all finished eating, and made our way back to the waiting area for our return home.

Before it was time for us to board, Allonna and I needed to go to Jamba Juice. Being out in the East Coast, finding a Jamba Juice is scarce. The only time I saw a nearby one was in Grand Central Station in DC on the way back to the Sheraton. We were in desperate need to have a sweet, thirst-quenching smoothie. Allonna had ordered a Caribbean Passion and I ordered a Pomegranate Paradise. The first sip I took reminded me of home and soon that’s where we would be.

As we boarded the plane, we found a mother and daughter sitting in our seats. Their flights were changed last minute because their original flight got cancelled. Their seats were placed in front of each other but Diana and I switched seats with them so they would be able to sit next to one another. The girl was five years old and asleep. I sat right next to them while Diana sat next to Allonna and Chris. Her husband and other daughter were seated somewhere else in the back of the plane and were trying to accommodate seating arrangements so they wouldn’t be separated. The mother was genuinely nice. She had told me that they moved to New Jersey for a job relocation for her husband and she eventually found a job out there herself. They are originally from California where she and her husband met at UC Berkeley and are coming back for their wedding anniversary to spend it with their families in Santa Cruz. It was pleasant hearing about her successful life, it gave me hope to have a similar one of my own.

Window View From the Waiting Room

Everyone on the plane patiently waited for the plane to lift off and zoom through the air back to the West Coast. All of us passengers soon found out that our flight would be delayed due to a rain storm that is potentially dangerous to fly through. Once the storm had passed over, we were fourth in line to take off. The closer it drew to us being next, we had to return back to the airport to refuel. It made sense because it was ninety-seven degrees outside and the AC was blasting throughout the plane the whole time we were stalled. The plane had finally filled up again with gas, but by that time there were thirty-five other planes who needed to take off as well. No one knew how long this was going to take and three hours had already passed. The time we finally made it in the air was 7:30 PM, three and a half hours later than from when we were originally set to take off. My mood went beyond irritation. We all wanted to stay in Philly a lot longer than three weeks but none of us had anticipated that this was going to be our ticket to stay. Frustrated and tired, I sat for another six hours for our plane to land at SFO.

The plane had landed at 10:51 PM in San Francisco. Everyone was eager to get off and go home or wherever they intended to go. Each row decreased in people until it reached the back of the plane. Before exiting the aircraft, I waved goodbye to the mother and her child and wished them luck on their vacation in California, and she did the same. I hurried into the airport of California grounds finally relieved that plane ride was over it. We waited for John to get off before we went to go pick up our luggage on the other side of the airport. I felt sentimental being back in the Bay. There’s no people out there like the ones from the Bay Area and that’s what I missed the most along with Jamba Juice.

After everyone grabbed their bags, we hopped into our black shuttle van to transport us back to El Cerrito High School where our families would pick us up at. The air outside was cool and breezy but somewhat warmer than I remembered SF to actually be. I was satisfied with my wardrobe choice to wear leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. The weather out here soon made me miss the heat and humidity the East Coast had. I hated the feeling right when I walked out an air conditioned building to the moist air but enjoyed the warmth and consistency of it. It was convenient knowing the temperature every day despite the environment of the weather. If it was overcast and breezy it was still warm, if it was raining with thunderstorms it would still be consistently warm outside.

The drive back to El Cerrito was a reminder for my brain to recollect my memories of the familiar, but faint surroundings of the Bay Area. I had forgotten how beautiful the Bay Bridge was until we were physically gliding right over it. I felt so embarrassed forgetting its gorgeous luminosity, especially when I looked back at my ugly drawing of it from the first day of class. My eyes became fixated with the scenery outside of the car window until we reached El Cerrito High. It was like I was familiarizing myself with a new area all over again except it wasn’t as difficult to remember.

Final Returning Cohort Photo

Twenty to thirty minutes passed as we finally pulled into the parking lot of the dimly lit school from where we originally departed on the start of our journey. Cars already parked in a line alongside the school waiting for our arrival. The first steps out of the van, Don was already snapping pictures of us like we were famous and he was the paparazzi. We all waited to grab our luggage from out the back of the barely visible vehicle. Before we could depart back to our homes, Don had required a group picture of the entire cohort together for the last time. Groaning because many of us were fatigued, we pulled our smiles out, hidden deep in our droopy faces in time for the last shots of us together. Once we were done, we each gave one another a final hug farewell and went our separate ways. This has probably been one of the best experiences I have ever had and with people who were fun and pleasant to be around. I could not have asked for a much better cohort, trip, and experience than what I received this summer. For that, I thank Don and the ILC for the opportunity

7/17 Day Full of Treats

*note: this blog is an entry from 7-17*

Today was the day I had been waiting for the whole program on the activities list; it was the day of the Phillies v. Mets game. I love watching baseball and being at the stadiums witnessing it first-hand. It makes the game more intense and better to focus on. I haven’t been to a baseball game since 2014 at the AT&T Park where the Giants were playing the Arizona Diamondbacks. The best feeling there is getting excited with other fans cheering on your favorite team to success. I wanted to get a feel for the stadium and the crowd the Phillies draws in. I dressed in my Giants gear having the need to represent my favorite team and Bay Area with my Adidas dri-fit shorts and Under Armour slides and headed down to the Quad grabbing my black, leather purse along the way out.

There were more people out there than I had expected. The Summer Discovery program did another Phillies game Friday night where I assumed most people would be attending. I stood in line to check in with Louise ensuring my spot on the trip. I found Therese there doing the same. All of us were separated into different buses by last name. Therese was designated to bus two while I was to bus three. As I waited for my group to move onto the buses, I made a new friend, Anjali, who was placed on the same bus as me. She’s from the Bay Area and likes the Giants, too. She goes to a private school in San Jose and does speech and debate tournaments as do I. When I told her that she said that I looked familiar but couldn’t place where, which was probably at the first tournament we had at James Logan HS in Union City. The world is so massive yet small at the same time.

Phillies Stadium

The yellow school buses they had rented for us were small and had no air conditioning. We all had pulled the windows down to the fullest as we rode twenty minutes out to the Phillies stadium. The longest part was waiting in the thick line trying to pull over to be released off the bus and into the stadium. In front of the stadium was a tall, digital board showing upcoming games the Phillies were playing. From August second through fourth, the Phillies would be playing the San Francisco Giants at home. I wished that game was now instead of the Mets; it would have made my day.

Once the bus had finally pulled over to the side, I rushed off the bus as fast as I could. My excitement for the game and need to get off that suffocating vehicle became my priority. I waited for Anjali down on the sidewalk before heading through bag check and security to enter the grand stadium. As soon as we made it to the inside, it reminded me of a bit smaller version of AT&T Park but nicer than the Oakland Coliseum; it was gorgeous. Our seats were placed at the very top, which wasn’t a surprise to me. The view was great and the bright and sunny weather. We were in the shade the whole time making the seats even more enjoyable. Just as we sat down Therese had quickly found us making our duo into a trio once more.

After the first three innings, the hunger in my stomach began to grow intensely. I walked down a level lower with Anjali and Therese to embark on an adventure to find filling food. I went down the food stands in a line until I decided on trying Crab Fries. Once I had grabbed and paid for the container, I was slightly disappointed that my fries didn’t actually have crab meat in it and they were only seasoned a certain way. I took a bite and discovered how delicious it actually was but still salty; from that moment I still wonder why they call it Crab Fries.

The heat was building up as we stood in front of a table behind seats watching the game as I ate my confused fries. Therese had the smart idea of purchasing ice cream from the food venue behind us. The ice cream was placed in a little souvenir Phillies cap cup covered all over with rainbow sprinkles. A chain reaction was sparked leading Anjali to buy one and then me. The three of us now were indulging the delicious cold creamy treat as we watched until the fifth inning.

Ice Cream Helmet

After all of us killed our ice cream, we went to the bathroom and washed out our caps to keep and treasure forever. The three of us headed back to the top where our seats were to finish watching the rest of the game. There were more Mets fans than there were Phillies, or for what it seemed like. The Phillies fans were not as spirited as I hoped they would be. Maybe it was because they were losing against the Mets or they just didn’t know how to become cheerleaders. I wasn’t used to seeing this out of a crowd. Even the A’s fans were still cheerful when they lost. It was depressing watching the Phillies get crushed with a five to nothing lead.

The game flew by faster than I thought it would. I was so use to baseball games running long but this one closed quickly. We were all back on the bus before I knew it. As we pulled away from the arena, I had noticed how all of the Philadelphia sports teams were all next to one another. From the Eagles to the 76ers, they were built standing tall and united. This must make traffic really bad when games are going on, especially on the same days.

Back at the Quad, we returned around 4:30 PM. This gave me about fifteen minutes to prepare to meet for dinner with Chris and John at five. I quickly changed into my red wife beater and into my black Tommy Hilfiger flip flops before receiving a text from Chris that he was downstairs waiting for me. I grabbed my purse and repeated my routine out the door.

It took us about ten minutes to make it to the Hummus Grill where we were meeting at. I had asked if we could take the food to go because I had plenty of research I needed to complete for the Capstone Project we were required to have completed by the end of the week. John beat us there, early, and patiently waiting at a table for our arrival. I hadn’t had dinner with John since the take out from Bobby’s Burger Palace the previous weekend. I missed having our usual dinners together as a cohort but struggled finding the time for it all. We greeted John in all smiles and looked at the restaurant’s menu to place our order. I decided to try something new and got the chicken kabab sandwich.

As we all patiently waited for our food to come, we caught up with one another. It was scary yet amusing listening to John’s cockroach story. He had found a massive cockroach in his hotel room and called in room service to come kill it. The more horrifying part is the fact that if it was pregnant that its children would be all over the floor still growing. I had true sympathy for him because I would be handling that situation in a more unprofessional way than he did. Before we knew it, our food was ready and we were all heading back to our living spaces. After waving a sad goodbye to John I was eager to scarf down this beautifully made sandwich and get my research done. I finished out my night tired and full, ready to knockout at any minute. I needed all the rest I could get before class again on Monday.

Anjali, Therese, and I Posing in front of the Skyline

7/16 Sunkissed and Salty Hugs

*note: this blog is an entry from 7-16*

Approaching Ocean City

Early morning rise around 8:00 AM, I had a couple of errands to run before the big day at Ocean City, New Jersey. I showered, got dressed, and headed out into University City. I needed to deposit some money into my bank card at the Bank of America next to Chipotle to ensure I had enough in my account for the entire day out. On the way back, I decided to stop by the Starbucks on the corner and grab a quick breakfast before it was time to leave at 10:30 AM. I ordered an herbal mango black tea lemonade and a cinnamon raisin bagel to go and consumed it as I walked for seven minutes back into my dorm. The sun was already heating up the sky in the eighties and it was barely ten o’clock. Relieved to be back in my air conditioned dorm, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I headed back into the blazing sun.

10:30 AM finally came and everyone in Leidy, was outside in their summer gear ready to take on the beach weather. We all did role call and waited to hear our names to get checked off so we could enter the bus. The drive there was filled with many girls singing along to mainstream songs from Rihanna to warming up for the fun filled day. It took a little over two hours to get there but we finally made it to the Jersey Shore.

The weather outside was not as hot as when we left. The skies were overcast and a few drifts were flowing through the air. I first stepped out of the bus with a disappointed attitude toward the weather. I was expecting it to be bright and sunny and was bikini ready. I walked along the endless boardwalk in search to find a restroom. The boardwalk had so much going on along the sides of it. There were arcades, multiple food areas, souvenir stores, boogie board rentals, a water park, rides, and so much more along with a beach right across from it all. After finding my essential stop, I ran into Diana and Therese coming out. We all took a short break to put on some sunscreen before heading back into the hazy sun.

Therese had left to meet up with a friend who works at Ocean City leaving me and Diana. We explored from Starbucks to eating crab cakes, then the souvenir shops where we bought matching long-sleeved shirts and then off to the beach. I had not been in the soft, warm sand since I went to Santa Cruz a couple of years ago before the start of freshman year. The feeling of my feet sinking into the deep grains was one that I had dearly missed. We had walked along the beach closer and closer to the water. There was a giant empty space of sand unoccupied by no one; it was perfect for us. We laid out our towels and rested there for about twenty minutes.

Ocean City Beach

I quickly sat up to wipe the glistening sweat from off my forehead. I soon checked underneath my swimsuit to find that I had turned fifty shades darker from when I first came to the boardwalk. I turned my body over for another five minutes before I couldn’t take just lying there being cooked in the sun anymore. I got up with Diana and headed into the salty Atlantic Ocean. The water felt amazing as it splashed against my hot skin cooling it down. Knowing I can’t swim, I only allowed the water to go up a little above my knees. The waves came in rushing fast and high making contact with my entire upper body as they pulled in. This was my favorite part of the day. Diana and I were both enjoying our time in the water that almost two hours had passed by before we headed back to our beach spot. Five o’clock drew near and was the time we were all required to meet at to return home. We gathered up our things and started our way back to the flashpoint.

Finding our way there was not a problem. All of the RCs were wearing bright blue shirts and made the umbrella stands on the beach all of the American Flag. Just drying off and removing all of the sand off of us, Diana and I were extremely reluctant to step back into the sticky sand. Being forced against our will, we both stepped back into sand where roll call was taken by our building RC. Shortly, we all went back to buses to take us back to PENN. The day was short but we made it last. I was just ready to go back to my building and take a nice warm shower and rest in my bed. Ocean City was the highlight of ending my busy week. 

7/15 Backtracking Our Culture

*note: this blog is an entry from 7-15*

There have been many instances within the news involving violence against police and the brutality they inflict on other black men. This itself has led us back to the topic of race and policing. Our guest speaker of the day, Keeanga-Yamhtta Taylor, had an idea of why or how this specific group was being targeted and it roots back to the time of Jim Crow Laws and the segregated era.

During the early 1900’s, Blacks were trying to move out of the inferior South and into the North. People made it difficult for this to happen because around this time, the government allowed people to do whatever they want with their property, sell it to whoever they want, and fluctuate the prices however they pleased. If people did not want to sell you property because of your race, they were allowed to. Many Blacks were sold overpriced, low quality housing in the North and their landlords would not maintain their homes in a fair or livable condition. Landowners thought of ways on how they could make more money so they removed many of the restrooms and kitchens in homes owned by colored people and transformed them into bedrooms where it could fit more people. 40% of homes did not have indoor plumbing within and made the hygiene of the area plummet. Many families that were overcrowded in these homes were forced to live on the streets because of lack of space. The housing separation allowed for foul stereotypes to flourish and made it seem as if people of color had poor hygiene. Not until 1968, where the Fair Housing Act was implemented, did this stop. 

Afro-Caribbean Mural 

Since no one really cared about what happened in the Black areas, this allowed violence, drug trade, and police brutality to occur. Poor people were always held in suspicion while being on the street. Categories of crimes began to develop in specific to targeting Black people leading to higher arrest rates, violence against them, and a way of degrading their race. They spent days in jail waiting to be convicted for a crime they “committed.” Riots began against Black people led by Whites killing fifty-five of them with the police joining in during the Red Summer. The larger the police force grew, the more unsafe it became for Blacks. Instead of the police protecting the people, they hurt them. It ensured poverty, criminal records, and brutality against them. Even today this is still occurring. So far in the year of 2016, 571 people were killed by the police. Nothing is changing while history continues to repeat.

Returning back to class in the afternoon, we were to embark upon another field trip to a Puerto Rican neighborhood in North Philadelphia called El Barrio. When I got off the train and exited the station, I knew that this wasn’t a well maintained neighborhood. Walking down the streets there was garbage and litter lying around the streets and sidewalks. The streets were quiet and vacant and have not been repaved in a long time. The small number of people you did see, you can tell they were in poverty. There were fire hydrants busted open with water gushing into the air and buildings were worn down and old in need of some remodeling. The area itself reminded me a lot of areas back home like Richmond, East Oakland, San Leandro, and certain parts of Vallejo. There were many corner stores and restaurants open on nearby blocks. Cars parked on the sides of the street were run down or damaged.  On occasion there would be some nice brand new car. Children played in the streets on their bikes and scooters while others hung out on the stoops of buildings.

Community Center in El Barrio

Ten to fifteen minutes of walking through the neighborhood, we all finally reached our destination. We stopped in front of a building that had beautiful mosaics and paintings along its walls. A man had stepped out, Rafael Damast, and welcomed us graciously inside of the center. There were tables and seats all placed out and around ready for our arrival. Over 50 us there, fit all together in seated in the nicely air conditioned room. Surrounding us were art pieces designed and created by young children from the ages of six to fourteen along with a black empty stage with different background pieces laying in the shadows. Mr. Damast had told us that this center we were in, was home to many children. It was created as a community center for young children to find an outlet or passion and teach their Latin history using the arts. They took classes on photography, painting, performing, etc. and at the end of each day they would perform for their parents in a talent show of what they learned and enjoyed the most. Once he finished speaking, he gathered us outside to take us on a tour of the different murals and culture of their community.

Rafael Damast Explaining One of the Murals

The feeling I had exiting the building was not a pleasant one. The heat of the sun had beat me down in the face so hard, I was already in need of a sip of water. No longer protected by the cool air of the air conditioned space, it was a struggle not passing out along the walk through the streets. He explained to us about each mural we had paused at. They all were painted to tell a story of their struggles being accepted coming into Philly and how they came about living there. Many of the people were discriminated against for their Afro-Caribbean culture. They used this negativity and hardships of adapting into a positive reaction by painting these murals around the community. The people shaped their culture into a proud manner and continued this throughout town until it finally felt like home.