In this blog post, you will learn of the memoir, My Name is Margaret, by Maya Angelou and how what seems like a simple name change can lead to the oppression of a person and the breaking of fine China. We were asked if we agreed with the protagonist’s choice to break the China and to provide a time of when we had made an important choice that either resisted or did not resist oppression, challenged the status quo, or refused to obey an authority figure. Read on to uncover my answers to the aforementioned questions. I absolutely agree with Margaret’s choice to break the casserole dish and the two green cups. Margaret was given that name at birth by her mother and although she was destined to be a servant to those who had nothing but disrespect for her, the one thing they could not take was her name. But her mistress, Ms. Cullinan, was so bold as to take the advice from her friend and call Margaret, Mary. Simply reading this material made me absolutely furious. If I had been Margaret, I too would have smashed the dishes because they pale in comparison. Ms. Cullinan dared to try to take Margaret’s dignity and threw out what little shred of respect she had for her because Margaret was too inconvenient for her big mouth to sound out; as if living to be someone’s slave turned servant wasn’t low enough. I believe out of all of her friends, Ms. Cullinan was certainly the kindest but took to her friend’s advice because she might have felt that it was the right thing to do. The dishes may have been her mother’s and it may have been the only objects she had left from her, but Ms. Cullinan had never felt the type of disrespect that Margaret was being given by her. I believe Margaret was incredibly brave and strong for smashing the dishes. Growing up, I’ve been known to challenge the status quo. The one event that sticks out in particular to me is from my senior year of high school. I consider myself to be a very impulsive person, which led to the events that transpired at three in the morning of October second. I had made the bold decision to cut my hair that curled towards my waist. This was far from a trim. I cut it straight to my scalp, going for the “pixie cut” look. I had done such a hack job, that I had conveniently left a few little bald spots in the back of my head. That morning, I skipped school and took myself to the hairdresser where I tragically found out I was going to have to get my first buzzcut. Thankfully, I was able to salvage the side bangs I hadn’t attacked. At first, I was terrified. Being an insecure seventeen year old girl still in high school, shaving your head wasn’t exactly an inviting style. After the hairdresser had finished, I felt like more myself than I ever had. Now, this was not nearly the first time I had ever taken the scissors to my locks. The one thing I’ve always loved about my hair is that no matter what, it always grows back and that is exactly what I told myself. I felt free. Since then, I’ve cut my hair extremely short multiple times. I love cutting my hair, it feels like I’m letting go of everything that burdens me. Change is good for the soul. Without change, there would be no growth. And hair most certainly grows.
2 Comments
David
2/6/2018 09:25:03 am
Dominique I really loved reading this. Especially your desire for change and showing your conflict at the same time. I like also, the fact that what you did so long ago, you have embraced it and still cut your hair short.
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Sabatino
2/12/2018 08:08:24 am
I echo David's comments. Your response provides a metaphor for how to approach life and I'd say for how to approach writing: don't be afraid to cut away those parts of the text you think are beautiful...because your writing can grow...can create other types of beautiful...
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