Friday, September 20, 2013

Saltshaker



One of the most significant things I am learning this semester is this: it’s a good practice to carry a hypothetical saltshaker around in case you encounter a new set of information. As a journalism major, I’m taught to take everything with a grain of salt—to not only believe one side of the story but to get the whole picture. To be honest, it actually took me a while before I learned what the phrase “take with a grain of salt” meant. I mean, why salt? Why not cayenne for a little spice? But no, “take with a grain of salt” does not have anything to do with food flavoring. I finally learned what the phrase “take with a grain of salt” meant this semester, because I did some of my own grain-of-salt-taking when reading Morreal.

Morreal’s Comic Relief can be some pretty meaty reading (which explains the need for salt). One of the concepts Morreal seems to discuss repeatedly is the Bible’s supposed disdain of humor. He quotes several verses in which the Bible condemns humor and laughter, such as Proverbs 26:18-19 (“A man who deceives another and then says, ‘It was only a joke,’ is like a madman shooting at random his deadly darts and arrows.”) and Ecclesiastes 7:3 (“Sorrow is better than laughter…”). Upon reading Morreal’s statements about the Bible, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! The Bible cannot possibly be entirely against happiness!” After all, I am a Christian and have been for many years. If the Bible is against laughter, why does reading the Bible give me joy?

I decided to go on my own personal investigation to find out what the Bible really says about laughter.

The first verse that came to mind was Nehemiah 8:10b: “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” I dug a little deeper and found a number of verses in which laughter/happiness is shown in a positive light:

·         Proverbs 17:22- “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” Doctors do say that laughter is good for the health. So does the Bible.

·         Psalm 100:1-2- “Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come before Him with joyful songs.” What else can a “shout for joy” be but laughter? In these verses, laughter and gladness are ways to worship God.

·         Job 8:21- “He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.” According to this verse, God is the giver of joy and laughter.

So why then do we find verses like these alongside verses like those Morreal mentions in his book? It is said that “scripture interprets scripture.” I believe the answer to that question is summed up in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, or the much-repeated “time for everything” verses. Verse 4 says that there is a “time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” In other words, there needs to be a balance. A person can’t live laughing his entire life away, but he can’t be in a constant state of pouty-face either.

I learned a lot about balancing laughter and seriousness from comparing Morreal's book and the Bible. And, in the midst of this, I learned what it means to “take something with a grain of salt.” Skepticism and investigation are part of being a responsible citizen. So, as a responsible citizen, I am packing my hypothetical saltshaker in my purse.

And also cayenne. I like spicy.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Sangmin: First Meeting




I sat on a couch inside Union Grounds and pulled out my phone to send a text:

I’m waiting inside Union Grounds. What are you wearing so I can know who you are?

Moments later, my phone buzzed with a reply:

I’m wearing a Texas Rangers baseball cap. I will be there soon.

Soon, a young, skinny Korean man walked in, indeed wearing a Texas Rangers baseball cap. His name is Sangmin. He is from Korea, living in the United States for a few months to learn English.

“This is my last vacation,” he told me with a laugh.

Like most first-time conversations, we began by getting to know each other. We talked about his home in Korea, his family, and his schooling. He told me life in America is much different from Korea. He described how Korea is more dependent on public transportation unlike America, which is more dependent on cars. He also jokingly described how much easier it was to talk to customer service in Korea; there aren’t any automated answers and buttons to press like in America!

But if he were to choose between Korea and America, Sangmin said Korea is still home. After learning English in the U.S., he plans to go back home and find a career in engineering.

However, what struck me about Sangmin was his determination to learn English and his openness to exploring a culture that was not his own. Before coming to TCU, he had previously gone to UT Arlington. He said there were many Koreans at UTA—and that was a problem! Whenever he hung out with his Korean friends, they spoke Korean. Sangmin didn’t want to speak in the language he was comfortable with. He wanted to immerse himself with English-speakers. Hence, he transferred to TCU.

Sangmin had only been in the U.S. for a few months, but I was surprised at how well he understood and spoke English. While not perfect, Sangmin was generally good at keeping a conversation. He told me his biggest struggle was subject-verb agreement, because in Korean language, the object comes before the subject and verb.

At times, Sangmin would pause to think of the right word or the right way to express what he wanted to say. He told me a story about how, at one point in his life, his parents enrolled him in piano lessons until they discovered that he did not have the “intelligence” to play piano. I believe he meant to use the word “talent” rather than “intelligence,” but I was glad that he resorted to pulling out a somewhat similar word to express what he was meaning.

He reminds me of my days when I was studying Spanish—when I would struggle to find the correct word and strategically work my way around saying what I needed to say. Sangmin has an advantage over me, however: immersion. Sangmin has the blessing of being fully immersed in a culture that forces him to speak English, and that’s why he’s able to learn so much so quickly.

Meeting with Sangmin was a metalinguistic experience for me. Our meeting allowed me to reflect on the language learning process and have a better insight into culture and humanity. Although we speak different languages, we share the same ideas, feelings, and experiences. I’m looking forward to our next meeting to see what new lessons we’ll learn.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Cognitive Shifts, served with Shish





Have you ever been in a situation in which you entered thinking you were about to undertake in a mundane activity but left having a life-altering experience instead? Well, that’s what happened to me this week. Okay, maybe it wasn’t “life-altering,” but it was certainly an experience I would never forget. It was an experience that left me laughing—and most certainly laughing uncontrollably.

This week, my aunt is visiting from California. She’s my mom’s youngest sister and somewhat closer to my age, so we have more of a sister/best friend relationship rather than an aunt/niece relationship. Whenever she comes to visit, we always plan a date; and most of the time (actually, all the time) it involves our favorite activity—eating.

Naturally, we decided to eat at a fantabulous Mediterranean restaurant called Istanbul Grill in Arlington, a place that serves meat so tender you can cut it with a bread knife. We ordered the usual—falafel, babaghanoush, beef shish, gyro—and everything was just fantastic. We thoroughly enjoyed our meal and had an overall pleasant time catching up over great food.

It had been a wonderful evening so far. We were just about finished with our entrees and waiting for the waiter to come by so we could order baklava for dessert.

Then it began.

BOOM-da-da-BOOM-da-da-BOOM-da-da-BOOM!

A sudden, obnoxiously loud sound of pounding drums exploded throughout the restaurant. I jerked my head around to find out where the music was coming from. Apparently, it was just a recording playing at a significantly high volume.

Then, all of a sudden, a random belly dancer came out of nowhere! Her dance was literally “the works,” complete with tiny cymbals in her hands and a sword balancing on her head. She made an effort to stop by every table to wiggle and jiggle before you.

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. The moment was so unexpected. In a split second, a peaceful evening had turned into a flamboyant party.

I believe I had experienced something like a cognitive shift that night. The “cognitive shift” is said to be one of the basic patterns of humor. In his book Comic Relief, John Morreal states that “the greater the contrast between the two states in the cognitive shift, the greater the possible amusement.” That evening, I was in a perfectly relaxed and composed state, enjoying my meal and engaging in conversation. I was not expecting to be suddenly jolted by loud music or visited by a belly dancer.

That evening was certainly an experience I can put in my memory book. Food, dancing, laughter—what more could you ask for? So if you ever want to go out to dinner on a Saturday night, I know where I’m taking you.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Construction




I have been carefully monitoring myself as of the beginning of this semester to see when I would break out into “fits of uncontrollable laughter,” as stated in my Literature and Civilization II syllabus. It’s funny (pun intended) that I’ve never actually analyzed moments when I’d laugh, or analyzed humor in general. Now I’m like a private investigator, lurking around and waiting for the right moment to pop out and say, “BOOM! You laughed!”

As of recently, the only moment I can think of in which I broke out into “fits of uncontrollable laughter” was during Lit and Civ class itself, when we read Richard Lederer’s Anguished English for the first time. The book is an English teacher’s collection of horrid yet hilarious errors people have made when writing. Our dear professor Dr. Dan Williams mercilessly put us through the painful torture of reading a comedic book out loud. Well, it was torture for me, anyway. Each of us was asked to read a paragraph from the book. I’m amazed at how cool everyone kept when it was his or her turn to read because I lost my cool quite quickly.
 

Once it got to my turn, I couldn’t control myself. I just could not read the book without laughing. Hence, laughter from the rest of the class was harder to evoke since no one could understand a thing I was saying. Laughing in the midst of reading completely clutters the flow of the words and makes the meaning of the sentence indiscernible. For example, my reading of a simple phrase would end up sounding something like, “Joan of Arc was burnt—ahahahaha—to a—ahahahaha—steak—ahahahaha—and canonized by—ahahahaha—Bernard—ahaha—Shaw.” Did that make sense to you? Didn’t think so. 
 
But, thankfully, my private investigator came out to say, “BOOM! You laughed!” Not only did I laugh, but I “broke out into fits of uncontrollable laughter” as stated in the syllabus. There! I had something I could use to complete my “fits of uncontrollable laughter” assignment!

But what caused me to laugh? The funny book. No, seriously, what caused me to laugh? Perhaps it was the so-called “Superiority Theory” mentioned in John Morreall’s book Comic Relief. Maybe I did feel superior to those people who said that Miguel de Cervantes wrote “Donkey Hoté.” Maybe each of those tidbits of English blunders made me feel a little good inside—that I was better than those people because I mean, come on, I am so good at writing and I would never ever make a mistake like that!

Until I tell my university’s news website TCU 360 that I want to take pictures of the “constriction underway at the GrandMarc.”

In that case, I didn’t laugh as hard. Sure, I chuckled a little bit; but I didn’t burst into “fits of uncontrollable laughter” as I did when I read Anguished English. Why? Because it’s a mistake that I made. I felt badly that I, a journalism major who is supposed to be good at writing, flubbed the word “construction” and wrote “constriction” instead. I didn’t feel superior to myself, so it wasn’t as funny.

Of course, the Superiority Theory isn’t true in all cases of laughter; but it does carry truth nonetheless. Laughter is quite an interesting topic to analyze. Right now, I’m paying more attention to when I laugh, how I laugh, and why I laugh. I am also checking my spelling more often.

Construction.