Mar 31 2009
The Space Between (Period 1)
Kincaid suggests that an idea and its reality often do not coincide, particularly when the gulf that divides them broadens and deepens. Cite an instance in your life when your IDEA of something “jumped and died and disappeared forever” in the face of its REALITY, like Kincaid’s impression of England. Be brief but descriptive.
50 responses so far
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Kincaid states in her essay, “The space between the idea of something and its reality is always wide and deep dark” (Kincaid 351). Her statement is very true when I apply it to myself as she did for her experiences in England. Although I never have been to Afghanistan, both my parents shared delightful stories of how their lives used to be magnificent. My mother always told me how she used to live on a farm with horses and cows and even a maid that would always be ready to clean up after her. My father shared stories of swimming in lakes that were so clear that you could count every one of your toenails. My idea of a pleasant country and living changed when I saw home videos of my country in ruins from relatives who had visited when I was 10. My country was in ruins and despair. Now I heard stories of how children did not have limbs anymore from bombings and yet still begged for a piece of bread to eat. Some Afghans say their going to help, but instead spend their time out casting me along other young kids for being “too American.” Do they have the right to judge me? Their perception along with mine shifted. Kant suggests that perception is always in a “perpetual flux and movement,” and it is true since it has also caused the world around me to change and interfered with my conceptual thoughts with hard reality. I am in stuck in a realm of not being perceived as a true American because of my heritage and not a true Afghan since I was never born there. Kincaid faces this similar struggle with since both our ideas “just all died” (Kincaid 354).
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Rob K. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 7:59 am
Wow Alias that’s pretty deep. Afghanistan sounds like it was a beautiful place a long time ago. It’s a shame that it is in the state that it is now.
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Chloe S Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:06 am
ROB!!
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Before my trip to Guatemala, my parents’ paranoia caused me to believe Guatemala was a place of violence and corruption. Though in the general scheme of things, this statement was true, I saw the place differently. I saw light, and beyond that, warmth. The people of Chiquimulia and Taxisco were generous and welcoming, poor, but warm with smiles as bright the Guatemalan sun, a sun that could blind any visitor. After only two weeks there, Guatemala transformed a beautiful refuge not unlike a home. In my thoughts, it will never again be the dark, turbulent place I had expected it to be.
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Clare B. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:08 am
That’s really good that it turned out to be better than you thought and not worse, you’re lucky.
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When I was eleven, I saw a human heart on display at the Franklin Institute. It wasn’t the size of a fist. It was bigger than my fist, at least. It also didn’t resemble what I knew my heart to look like. My heart was a cartoon that smiled and expanded to twice its size and back in again in a sunshine-filled cavity. It was not this brownish wrinkled thing in a display case that one day would stop beating and be plucked out.
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Katt Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:04 am
I remember when I found out a heart didn’t look like the cartoon. I was in the 4th grade and we were looking at a picture of the human body. Yup. It bit.
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After a trip to California in fourth grade, I had my mind set that I was going to go to college on the west coast, as I loved the concept of moving far away and starting a new life. Until about high school, I was determined to make this a reality, as my dad sometimes mentioned about going back on a college trip. But, after I matured and realized the high costs, numerous airplane trips, the lack of family and friends from the east coast in my life, and the potential within the east coast, I eventually distanced myself from this goal. Furthermore, I realized that I will basically have a life no matter where I go, as I now want to have a 3-4 hour radius between my college and my home. Basically, the notion that my life would be best suited in California eventually sizzled once I realized the hardships within the journey and everything I would be leaving behind.
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As a kid, I always was watching television with my dad. One day in the summer he was watching Jaws, and I sat watching scared as can be. Everything that the shark was doing really made me scared of the ocean, and of course our family vacation to the beach was coming up. For the first two to three days of vacation I stayed clear of the water and if I were to go in at all it would be really quick. After awhile all my cousins were going into the water and having fun, while I was just waiting for the real-life Jaws to come. Eventually my dad took me out to the water and proved to me that there was nothing to be afraid of and Jaws was only a movie. So my fear of the storied shark Jaws slowly came to an end, what I thought to be true as a kid has now just become a funny joke to me. I realized how foolish I was being and I quickly forgot about my fear of the fictional fish.
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John P. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:00 am
Excellent use of rhetorical device, alliteration, in the final sentence describing fictional fish. Good show Francis!
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Katie S. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:35 am
I totally had a similar experience Fran! That’s rough though stupid fake fish that ruin our ocean expereince. lol
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A few months ago, my parents and I decided to go out to dinner. We eventually decided on Legal Sea Food. We had a great dinner, but I was surprised when my mom asked for the dessert menu. We just aren’t dessert people. I was even more surprised when she suggested we order bread pudding. “Bread pudding?!” I recall scoffing. “Ew.” But then it came. And it was huge. It was rich. It was buttery. It was creamy. It was smothered in dark chocolate. I couldn’t imagine why I had ever thought bread pudding was disgusting. I’m glad that sometimes reality is better than anything our imagination allows us to fathom.
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Joanna F. Reply:
April 2nd, 2009 at 9:34 pm
I like that story. Great writing! you made the bread pudding descriptive and i could imagine it.
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Expectations and confidence many times comes crumbling down when one experiences the thing that was so anticipated. Driving for the first time, for instance was one experience I will never forget. Before actually being the one behind the steering wheel, I remembering thinking how easy driving seemed. Day after day, I stared at my mom drive. She always drove perfectly even though her eyes gave the impression she was concentrating elsewhere. Her lack of concentration and ease made me completely confident that when my turn came to learn to drive, I would naturally glide through the streets. I was completely wrong. My first time, I gripped the steering wheel with an unbreakable hold, terrified. I drove, not smoothly like my mom, but jerked the car with every acceleration and brake. I needed so much to concentrate on just driving in a straight line that I completely forgot to look at signs and lights. As I drove, I felt like I was going to run over each mailbox I passed even though I was not in reach. Like Kincaid, this experience showed me that and idea and an experience are completely different.
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When I was about eleven years old, my parents signed me up for a summer camp that I had been interested. The pamphlet for the camp was bright and colorful with pictures of happy kids sitting around campfires and crossing rivers that reached up to their waists. I wanted to be there and do those things that looked like so much fun. I read the whole pamphlet over and over again about all the activities the camp offered, such as fishing, kayaking, archery, swimming, and zip lining. Finally when summer came around I gathered all of my belongings I planned to take with me in a bag that weighed about forty pounds, and then proceeded to do a fist-pump of approval. Unbeknownst to me however, was that tomorrow morning at camp would not be what I was expecting at all. The bus came to pick me up, and then we arrived at the camp about a half hour later. The first of a series of unpleasant events began with me lugging my forty pound duffle bag up a hill that never seemed to end. Once we reached the top, we were told to throw all of our stuff in a giant barn that looked like it was about to fall apart. This barn would be the boy’s changing and personal area, as opposed to the girls’ area inside a nice clean house. Then we went to the archery station with our own groups, and attempted to shoot arrows with no point on them at a wooden target. None of the arrows stuck, or even flew straight. Kayaking was actually just rowing a small boat on a man made pond, rather than on the rivers near the camp. It could be compared to a merry-go-round. Fishing was a travesty, as we caught fish in the man made pond about the size of peas. Swimming turned out to be the most dreaded activity. We had to walk barefoot down a hill to the pool area on a road made of sharp and jagged rocks in our bare feet. We came out of the pool cold, wet, and unhappy. The zip line harness….was…torture. The harness was strapped on so tight that it was cutting off the circulation to my legs, and when someone went down the zip line, it was not yells of joy or fear that everyone heard from shooting down the line at about a hundred miles an hour, it was the pain of the harness digging into our crotches. The camp was the biggest letdown of my childhood and I do not think I will ever be able to forget it.
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Paul K. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:11 am
Rob it seems that summer camp was the exact opposite of what you expected, which is what happen to Jamaica Kincaid too.
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The last time an idea “jumped and died and disappeared forever” was not mournful or morbid at all. I remember in the days freshmen naiveté simply the thought of Mr. Kozol’s history class, popularly known as “Kozol”, sent chills down my spine. I imagined it as quite a dreary experience with dark music continually playing in the background. My ideas of life after “Kozol” were images of me fettered with chains to my desk at home suffering through an infinite web of cruel and unusual assignments. My fears became increasingly terrifying as the first day of sophomore year neared. On the first day I remember shuffling awkwardly down toward the “dead end” of the hallway where Mr. Kozol’s class is located. As I walked in I kept my eyes fixed on the tiled floor and quickly found a seat and then continued to slump into it until I could go no further. However, since then that idea sheer terror has “jumped and died and disappeared forever”. The name “Kozol” which was once synonymous with fear is now synonymous with little dancing tape reels from the 60s and “nerdy” history jokes.
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Rachel S. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 10:54 am
This totally relates to me…I signed up for CP social studies because I was scared and then I switched INTO Kozol, and I think it was a smart move, regardless of the endless assignments and and cars.
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Chitra M. Reply:
April 2nd, 2009 at 7:17 pm
Haha. I actually vaguely remember you telling me about this in ninth grade…good times.
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Lisa V. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:18 pm
Don’t forget those imitations of JFK and FDR: only THE best part of Kozykoz.
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Chitra M. Reply:
April 2nd, 2009 at 7:04 pm
Haha. Those and perhaps the Gremlins from the Kremlin…dada dada da.
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When I was 11 I had very long hair. Finally I decided that I wanted to get my hair cut very short. I had this great idea in my mind that I would have a cute little bob that when I pulled my hair back I would have a short little ponytail. I remember going into the salon and being so excited to see the results of this huge change. I was going to a salon that I had never been to before and told them that I wanted my hair cut to my shoulders. When I finally finished my haircut and got it blown out I was so disappointed. Although I had liked the style I hadn’t thought of how it would look on me. And it did not look good on me. Because I hated my new hairstyle I wore my hair in a bun for months and my love of the style of hair decreased significantly. Since I hated my hair I started to hate the whole idea of short hair.
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Alias Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 7:54 am
This reminds me of a time a got a bad haircut. I guess because I was a kid the lady did not take the time to cut my hair right.
Nice experience. I’m sure you never will have short hair again.
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Claire D. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 7:59 am
I have been through the same kind of situation with my hair. I always look at girls with short hair and want the little short ponytail and think of how much easier my hair would be to take care of it it were shorter. However, like you, I have also gotten a short haircut (more than once) and every time I am disappointed. I then begin to look at girls with long hair and think of how much I miss my long hair. It has been said that the grass is always greener on the other side, and that applies very well to our dilemmas.
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When I was in kindergarten, I waited very impatiently for the very first snowday of the year. After hearing school was cancelled, I jumped out of bed, put on my snowpants, gloves, coat, hat, and boots, and flew out the door to play in the snow. After hours of sledding and snow angels, I desperately wanted to make my first snow man ever. With the help of my mom, we rolled the bottom, belly, and head and stacked them on top of each other. I was practically jumping out of my skin, I was so fascinated with the fact that I made myself a new “friend.” I searched through old hats and scarves to find the perfect ones to put on the snow man. His face was constructed with a carrot nose, oreo eyes (as were his buttons), and a licorice smile with sticks for his arms. The next day I ran outside hoping to eat breakfast with my snowman, but to my surprise, he resembled a pile of snow with two sticks sticking out and a hat and scarf placed on top. His face was completely disformed, buttons scattered on the ground, and nose above his eyes. I was completely shocked to find that he had melted. I was faced with the reality that there is a reason why there is such a thing as a snowday, because it usually only lasts a day. It was a harsh realization at the time to understand that snow melts as the seasons change. I now think of this story and laugh finding it hard to believe that I thought my snowman “friend” would last forever.
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Chloe S. Reply:
March 31st, 2009 at 11:26 pm
…that’s reallly sad.
i would probably cry.hahah
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An instance in my life where the idea was not the reality was when I first went to Upper Merion Middle School. We had just moved into the neighborhood and I thought that I would not know anyone at my new school. I also thought that I would have a difficult time making new friends. The school I came from was very small and I wondered how I was going to be able to remember to get to all my classes. After the first day, I had made some friends and been able to find my way around school. As more days passed, these fears subsided and I found that I had nothing to worry about. My initial idea of moving to a new school and what actually happen we completely different.
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Andrew W. Reply:
April 2nd, 2009 at 11:07 pm
Paul, I know exactly how you felt. When I first came to UM I was pretty nervous but it was really nothing to worry about.
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The summer after my 3rd grade year my family moved from Illinois to North Dakota. I had the best friend in the world, Kayla Christmore, and before I moved I never left her side. I was in Texas by the time I got to see her again. I had thought we would have the same opinions and the same feelings, because we had spent the early part of our lives together. That was so off. She showed up in DC sunglasses and a tank top and shorts and a handbag that was so big she had to turn sideways to get through my front door. She looked and talked and acted like the people that I HATED in my middle school. I thought we would be friends for life, but she still won’t reply to my e-mails. Not that I’ve sent any recently…
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Steven C. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:23 am
booooooo on her. that’s all i got to say.
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Through many experiences in my life I have found that the build up of fear or dread that I, and probably many other people, create for certain situations in our lives are often very exaggerated and misleading, with the actual outcome being far less torturous than the expectance of it. One example of this was when the owners of the store that I work at decided to sell. They called everyone in to a meeting, and as I sat down I began to notice a similar look on the managers’ faces. One of them leaned over to me and warned me that the store was being sold and a whole new team of managers was coming in. This in itself was a shock to me, as my perception of the owners changed from people who really cared about us to people who only cared about money and themselves. (that perception eventually changed back too) My anger began to grow, mixing with fear, sadness, and dread, of my old managers leaving and the new and unknown managers taking over. It seemed to me like a hostile takeover, and I developed plans in my head of when and how I would quit, thinking that there was no way these new managers could work out well for me and that I would dislike my job more than I already did. I stormed out as soon as the meeting was over, not bothering to stay and be introduced to the new managers who I was sure I would hate. In the coming weeks as the new managers and owners began to drift in, my fear grew. However, I later realized that this fear was irrational. Although the way that the new owner runs his business in general is quite different from my old bosses, it hasn’t had much of an effect on me or the day-to-day running of the store. The best things that have come out of this situation, which I had dreaded at first, are the new people that I have met. After getting to know my new coworkers, I have developed friendships with several of them, which I am very thankful for. And, while I do miss my old bosses, the experience truly demonstrated to me Kincaid’s idea of how reality and imagination often do not match up. I had spent so much time building up the fear and the dread in my mind that I did not stop to look around and realize that reality was not really as bad as I thought.
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When i was younger before I really knew about colleges, I remember being sure that I wanted to go to an Ivy League school just because it was considered impressive and they had gymnastics teams. I actually first heard of them when I helped out at a gymnastics meet. All the teams were from Ivy league schools. I thought it would be so cool to be like one of those girls. I even had a few picked out which I thought I would like best even though I’m not sure how I did that since all I knew about them was their locations. As time went on I learned more and more about how difficult they were to get into and how many more colleges there were out there instead of those few. I come to realize now actually looking to find somewhere I want to go for years, that there are so many more choices that what I had limited myself to and picking a college has a lot more to it than just how competitive it is. While there is still always that slim chance for anyone of going to one of those colleges, the reality is that I’ll probably end up picking one that is totally different. They just weren’t as wonderful and simple as I had imagined they would be.
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Chitra M. Reply:
April 2nd, 2009 at 7:06 pm
Wow that pretty much sums up my life.
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After reading through some of the responses, it seems as though most of us wrote about something that we experienced when we were younger. Maybe this is because we still have so much to learn,and explore. I remember when I was in first grade, all I wanted to do was grow up and be an astronaut. I thought it was the coolest job ever. Exciting, and different, and something special. Astronauts are looked at as heroes, and I knew that was exactly what I wanted to do. I made trips to several exhibits and watched movies about space becoming more and more envolved with the subject as years went by. But on February 1,2003 that dream was shattered when I woke to the news of the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster. Something as simple as a piece of foam breaking off resulted in the loss of multiples lives and precious knowledge obtained while in space. This disaster made the realization of how dangerous this occupation could be, real to me.
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Fran R. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 7:56 am
I agree, we were young. That is a pretty impressive story though, I wouldn’t want to go on a space shuttle…especially after seeing it blow up haha.
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Alex G Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:16 am
I remember when I was younger I wanted to be a dentist. After my first root canal, I realized I would not want to put anyone through that.
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An idea of something “jumped and died and disappeared forever” numerous times in my childhood. However, the most recent experience was visiting my dad’s hometown. The place where he was born and grew up was the ancient city of Antioch, Turkey. Constantly, he would explain his childhood and his schools and the houses in the city. He had not been there for about twenty years. I imagined it as a modern-day suburb with large, historic homes and buildings. It was a small town where almost everybody knew each other and all the businesses were family owned. The reality was a big disappointment to both of us. Instead of large homes with a backyard, there were ugly apartment buildings in their place. The river that once flooded over the bridges was almost completely dried up and filled with old shoes and garbage. We visited in the summertime when the temperature most likely went up to 115 degrees (fahrenheit). I could not stand outside for more than five minutes without feeling the sunrays penetrating into my skull. It had become an ugly city and I did not even want to go outside. Everyone still knew each other but the locals were isolated within their own community and my dad became disillusioned. I told him that I definitely would not be going there again, especially in the summer. He agreed with me, but it was his hometown. We both probably felt the city had betrayed our imaginations.
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Chitra M. Reply:
April 2nd, 2009 at 7:13 pm
Its sad that this is happening to cities all over the world. My parents and I also have similar experiences with the changing landscape of their hometowns in India. I have to admit that I love the perks from urbanization such as the rapid invasion of Starbucks into thier hometowns. However, it is disheartening to see trash everywhere and its probably more dissapointing to my parents who have seen the more authentic beauty of these places. It also dissappoints me sometimes because I feel like I am being cheated out of the real experience when I go there.
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Two summers ago my family went camping at a different campground we had never been to before. We were really excited because the pamphlet made it look like the best place ever. Everything was clean and beautiful: a lake, a pool, log cabins, and tons of happy people. But when we got there we were so disappointed. First of all the lake was bright green because it was covered in algae. Everything was rusty and dirty, and the place was basically deserted. This shows how you can build up the idea of something so much in your mind, that when you actually meet the reality of it you are often disappointed. The idea and the reality are often completely different.
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Stephanie Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:07 am
I’ve definitely been there lol. Not to that place, but in that mind set. For example, a church concert, went horribly though possibly because I built it up way above its potential.
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My eighth summer was supposed to be one of the best I’d ever had. My dad’s boss had agreed to send our entire family to Newport, Rhode Island while my dad worked on a project up there. My dad came home ecstatic and urged me to do my homework and research our vacation getaway. I found that Newport had some of the finest dining of anywhere in the world and it’s beaches were the playground of the rich and famous. It had a scenic downtown whose harbors was always filled with yachts and whose streets had were nothing but Porsche and BMWs. For such an amazing getaway I thought I could deal with a measly 8 hour car ride. But when I got there I discovered something the travel sites must have forgotten to mention. The beaches stunk worse than anything I had ever smelled. Red sea weed was thrown across the sand in such large clumps that the stench was almost unbearable. Although my trip wasn’t all bad I never did spend much time on those beaches.
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A few years back, I auditioned for The Music Man with the King of Prussia Players. I was brought into the dance audition room where we were taught a very simple dance combination. Watching the middle aged men and little eight year olds trying to march across the room was hysterical. Clearly, I was more advanced than the others (not even bragging). After the audition, the choreographer took me aside and told me that I was one of the better dancers he’s seen yet and that I would probably get a part that had a lot of dancing and a few lines. I was very very exciting. A week later I got a call from the director. I was in the chorus; the part I was practically promised was given to the director’s son. That’s life, I guess.
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Emily S. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:25 am
That’s rough. It actually reminds me a lot of my story. Its rough to find out that adults you respect and trust feel no remorse when they let children down.
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Steven C. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:29 am
SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS ME.
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When I was younger, I had played basketball. I viewed my coach as one of the most important people I had ever met. One day, he pulled me aside and told me that I had improved by miles and that I would be starting and getting much more playing time. I was so excited to hear this and I went home to tell my parents the news. The next day, I had a game. As the game was about to begin, I waited for my coach to call my name to start. He never did. I waited for my coach to call my name to sub in for another player. He never did. I waited for my coach to call my name to begin the next quarter. He never did. I didn’t play until the last minute of the fourth quarter in that game…and the next game…and the next game. I realized then that my coach was someone who was far from perfect and did not really understand how to treat children on a sports team. In my eyes, he had gone from hero to zero. My opinion of him ‘jumped and died and disappeared.’
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First of all can I just say the analogy of something that, “jumped and died and disappeared forever” is a little disturbing and this seems to be a rather depressing blog topic. Anyway, when I was five years old I went to Disney World for the first time. Now, I knew that the characters that were dressed up weren’t the real “Mickey Mouse” “Goofy” etc, I just assumed they were relatives of the real characters. When I got to Disney I walked up to “Max”, Goofy’s son. Well apparently the man who was dressing up as Max was still under training and didn’t perfect the art of being a character down to a science. I went to hug him and he grabbed my hand to pretend to kiss it. But when he bent down to do so the character head fell off. Needless to say i was horrified that an evil man was pretending to be Max. The Disney people felt horrible so they reassured my childhoood fantasy that in fact characters are real and Max was just an imposter and brought me to Mickey since he was the most well trained character they had and I proceeded to tell him about the evil man who tried to be Max. Which was kind of nice of Disney. Anyway to this day when I go to Disney every time a character bends over I get so afraid for the child that their dream too will have “jumped, and died and disappeared forever.”
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Emily S. Reply:
April 1st, 2009 at 8:33 am
I really don’t know if I want to laugh or cry…
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When I was about 12 years old I was invited to see a Phillies game. I have never been to a professional baseball game before. I did not really enjoy baseball all that much ever since I stopped playing it. A lot of my friends kept on telling me how long and boring the games were. All I could think about was how long and boring this game was going to be but I decided that I would go just to hang out with my friend. Well it turns out that the game was anything but boring and that I had an awesome time. From then on I have been a Phillies fan and even if they are not playing, I will still watch baseball if it is on.
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I always had thought that beer commercials were obnoxious. They always showed men being absolute jerks yelling at football on their cheap tv sets. About five minutes ago, I saw that commercial where these women go into a walk-in closet and start screaming about how amazing it is, and then suddenly, they hear screaming coming from downstairs.
The guy just showed his friends his walk-in beer closet. I was surprised how much I laughed. My idea about beer commercials obviously isn’t a reality.
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Alyssa Bearoff Reply:
April 3rd, 2009 at 8:05 am
hi madhuri
lol u should watch them during the superbowl
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