Now before I forget

Tuesday, when the decision came out, I was at my internship--All day. But I did take the time to check the news, and was able to read a story 14 mins. hot off the press.

When I came back on the bus, I saw a lot of police cars parked at the post office by the Federal Building on Wilshire/Sepulveda. I was wondering, uh oh; what happened. Then it dawned on me--Oh yah. Decision. I then wondered what kind of action would be happening at UCLA. By the time we got to Westwood/Wilshire*, I saw people sitting outside Wilshire Center. I took out my phone and snapped a picture. Then they all got up and started walking... I thought they were crossing the street. But supposedly, the sat at the intersection. I swear for 10 minutes, the bus couldn't move. My heart welled up that students were making a difference. I wondered, is this how it feels to be in the midst of a social movement? And, how would this be portrayed in future history textbooks?


This was such a small segment of the Californian population engaging in this sort of “martyristic” activity—but will the history books portray it as the sentiment of the times? I wonder that about the hippie movement and the summer of love. Depictions of that era make it seem as though everyone was like that. But I would say that other portrayals coming out will show that, no not everyone. Most people were normal, while a narrow but significantly large enough population grew out their hair, took off their clothes and picked flowers in the fields to have gotten noticed. Was the civil rights movement as relevant in its time to contemporaries? Or is it like Prop 8? Not many people are actively involved as I think history will attempt to portray. That’s the problem with triumphant nationalism. Once a country has something to be proud of, its historians will skew such that everyone was on the winner’s side. Or am I being cynical?

(But I would like to say—I did get involved myself. Election day, 4-9 p.m. I got my butt out to do some electioneering against Prop 8. Happy experience I will always remember.)


*By the way, one day a few weeks ago, some funny guy came on the bus. He had long hair, sun glasses, a backpack with a SIGG bottle on the side pocket, and a stuffed animal strapped to the front. He looked like a free spirit--kinda like Christopher McCandless--the man Emile Hirsch played in Into the Wild. Anyway, he sat down behind me somewhere. Later on in the bus, I feel a tap on my shoulder--he told me that Wilshire/Westwood was the busiest intersection in the world. I reciprocated his short exchange with some small talk. But went back to putting on my earbuds**.

**I regret that. I'm always saying, it'd be so interesting to talk to people on the bus--don't be so insular and detached! You're on mass transit. But I would say I get freaked out a bit--a bit overprotective of myself. I guess that's good if you have MWS (Mean World Syndrome). But I want the world to change... I want people to get along... But I find it's so much easier to say than to do. I will always remember that Chinese guy that talked to me. He came in the 1949 did he say? Well, let's just say very early. And he was Shanghainese and started singing the China national anthem. I feel like he is one of those nationalists--aggrieved nationalists who are still holding a grudge against some party.