Racist

Today I was called a racist by my English teacher.

Now, I appreciate all cultures. I don’t judge people based upon their ethnic background, color of their skin, or anything like that. I am completely un-racist.

Today in English class, we finished watching the movie “Freedom Writers”. It was a movie about kids from the ghetto, that come to English class and learn to be good, honest people.

It made me think about ghettos. As defined in the dictionary, a ghetto is a place where a group of people from the same race or ethnic background or culture come to live. In common media portrayals of the ghetto, there is a black ghetto, an Asian ghetto, and a Hispanic ghetto.

This is where the trouble began.

I began wondering about other types of ghettos. I said this exact phrase to my friend:

I wonder if there is like a Portuguese ghetto.

My teacher then began telling me that what I said sounded racist. I was astonished. How can that phrase sound racist?

My teacher told me, incorrectly, that a ghetto is just another word for “slum”. I assured her that a ghetto is where a group of people with the same race or background lived, but she simply would not accept this as fact.

I did not judge the Portuguese people by saying this. I simply do not understand how in the hell this is a racist thing to say. Would it have been any different if I said:

I wonder if there is a place in Canada where a group of Portuguese people live in high concentration?

It made me really upset. I think I am a pretty morally and ethically correct guy. I try to be kind, and give respect to people of all cultures. In my sentence regarding a Portuguese ghetto, I’m pretty sure that I didn’t say anything negative about the culture. Therefore, I’m not being racist (there are positive forms of racism, such as “All Asians are good at math”, but I didn’t say anything positive about them, either).

The only way I could be interperated as racist is if someone doesn’t fully understand what a ghetto is. If I said, “I wonder if there are a bunch of poor Portuguese people living together”, that could be interperated as mean, and a little racist I guess, but that is not what I said.

Overall, I am just upset that I was called a racist. Maybe I worded things wrong, I personally don’t think I did, but I also think that my English teacher needs to do some learning on the definition of “ghetto”.

Screw Twitter

I am so frustrated right now.

About two weeks ago, I signed up for Twitter, just to try it out. I really liked the concept of it, and I thought it was both cool and fun. But, I was convinced that it wouldn’t catch on in my community, because most people are into things like Facebook, and Windows Live Messenger. So, knowing that nobody else was going to be reading what I was posting (which is probably what’s going on now), I deleted my Twitter account.

Yesterday, I decided I didn’t care if someone didn’t read it, and that I’d try to get some people using it. I thought that my old account was completely deleted off the system. So, I re-joined, using all the same information as before. I was greeted by a message saying that my account had been deleted, and that I could restore it if I wanted. So, I entered my email address for my account to be restored, and waited. I got a confirmation email about 2 seconds later, making sure I wanted my account restored. I clicked yes, and waited for the email telling me that my account was ready to be used. I never got that damn email!

So, I looked around on the help pages of Twitter, and found no useful information at all. I found a few twenty-something-year-old employees instructing people how to tell other twenty-something-year-old employees their technical problems with Twitter. So, I was pretty much unable to restore my account. Thanks a lot, Twitter.

I decided to make a new account. I signed up with a different user name, and the same email address. I wasn’t allowed to sign up, because I was told the email address is already in use. I am now completely blocked from using Twitter, unless I get a new email address. That’s just fucking inconvenient.

I really don’t know what to do now. I have a Plan B, though. It may sound somewhat stupid and crazy, but maybe it will prompt them to be more helpful.

I am going to pretend I am a journalist, writing a story about “Corporate Negligence”. I’ll ask them why they are ignoring very important technical issues, etc. Now it sounds like it won’t work.

PISS!

My Beginner’s Test – Passed!

I was sitting in the back left-hand corner of Chemistry class, comfortable under my Fidel Castro hat, with it’s signature blood-red star on it. I was ready to get through another Chem class, and wishing the day would hurry up and end (it was last period, by the way). We had a substitute teacher, so I knew it wasn’t going to be a very productive class. I was ready to start pretending to work, when all of the sudden, my name was called. I was to pack my things, and go down to the office, to sign out of the building.

I walked through the empty hallways, down the dusty staircase, my hand dragging against the stainless steel railing, creating a whisper-like chime as I descended. I walked into the office, and signed my name on a list, not knowing what was going on.

“Your father will be down to pick you up shortly,” said the secretary.

I waited for what seemed like half an hour for his red car to drive up. Finally, I saw a streak of red in the distance, and I knew it was him. I grabbed my backpack, and walked up to meet him.

I set my backpack in the back seat of the car, and as I went to sit down in the front passenger’s, I noticed a book on the seat. It was none other than the Nova Scotia Driver’s Handbook. I assumed we we’re going to make a little stop into the DMV, and I was correct. I was going to take my Beginner’s Test.

At first, I didn’t worry at all. I knew I was going to fail, because I had not really studied my handbook. Sure, I had looked at it a few times, but I found it extremely difficult to concentrate on the ridiculous font, and all of those poorly-drawn graphics. I was confident that I would fail, learn from my mistake, and pass the next time.

After about five minutes of driving, I realized that there was a section in the test about signs. It was necessary to memorize all of the different road signs, which, of course, I had not done. I picked up the book that I had set aside when I got in the car, and flipped to the sign section. I studied the signs for about two minutes, then stored the book away again. Then, before I knew it, we were at the DMV.

I now know why people don’t like going to the DMV. It’s small, cramped, and there are a lot of people there that you don’t know. Me and my father looked around, searching for a place to sit. He grabbed a form from a small green room to our right. I realized my friend Matthew was only two feet in front of me. He reminded me that I needed to take a number. I took my number, A188, and stood at the door to the main office, making small talk with Matt, until some seats cleared up, and me and my father sat down.

It took a few minutes before my number was called, around thirty to forty-five. When it was called, we went up to the desk, and filled out forms. Afterwards, we sat in the small green room, waiting for my turn to take my test.

Matthew had gone into the test before me. He emerged from the test room, and, with a smile, triumphantly said, “I passed.” We waited for more people to finish their tests, waiting for my turn. We noticed that a girl, sitting very close to the door, had something written on her hand. We assumed it was answers to the test, because she sat on her hand as she talked to the secretary of the test room.

When I stood up to take my test, I said to Dad, “It’s in God’s hands, now.” Dad laughed, and I went into the room.

It was empty, except for me and the secretary. There were some small brown booths to write the tests in, each equipped with an electric pencil sharpener. I sat down, and the secretary began writing a form. I then began an optical test.

I was asked to read some small print, which went perfect. But then came something I found difficult: a depth test. I was presented with a matrix of signs, which, apparently, were “closer” or “further” then some of the other signs on the board. I was completely unable to distinguish which sign was closest to me, or furthest. I was shocked at how bad I did on the depth part of the optical test.

She told me to be careful when backing up a car, then gave me my tests. I went over to the booth closest to the door, where the cheating girl sat.

I organized my papers neatly, and, while shaking in nervousness, read the questions carefully, and x’ed out the correct answers. Then I went to the sign section. I had to write the number of the sign in the correct blank.

During the whole test, I was surprised at how easy it was. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I got 100%

I followed my Dad’s advice, and took my time. I even went over the test again, checking every single answer. I essentially did the test twice, once on paper, and a second time in my head.

I took my test to the secretary, quietly saying “I’ve finished.” I watched her take my papers, checking off all the answers I got right. She started off with the sign paper.

She quickly darted through the entire paper, I thought I was going to get 100%, when she came to one answer, and corrected it. She told me that I had confused the School Crossing, and School Zone signs. She also said I did very good.

Next came the multiple choice part of the test.

She checked off the first two as correct. She marked three as wrong, and did the same with five, and seven. At this point, I thought that the pattern of getting questions right and wrong was going to perpetuate. I realized my confidence was all for naught. But then, she darted through the rest of my test, marking everything right.

Afterwards, she told me that I was to take a form into the other room to get my license.

The DMV was too busy, so I’m going to get my license later.

Overall, I’m pretty proud of myself. I passed the first time, and barely studied. Hooray!

New Projects

I’ve decided to begin writing in my blog regularly. I doubt I’m even going to stick with that promise. It seems simple enough, probably to most people, but it’s a hard commitment for me, mostly because my life is boring as shit. There are some interesting things that happen throughout the week, and sometimes daily. But mostly, it’s just same ol’, same ol’.

So my friend David recently came in contact with me, and asked me to join him on his projects. They are called GamePad.net, and The AVI Times. GamePad.net is a dropshipping internet store we’re opening up to sell video games at really low prices. The games don’t bring much cash, but at least we get a good reputation as always having the lowest prices.

The other project we’ve got going, The AVI Times, is a podcast/blog that we are going to do. It’s mostly going to be our recorded Skype calls, but I’m guessing there will be some other media in there too. We’ve actually got our very own domain name and everything (www.theavitimes.com). The reason it’s called The AVI Times is because David and I both have the letters avi in our names.

School’s almost over for me, I’ve really only got about 3.5/4.5 weeks left. It’s that time of school year where everybody is tired of doing work, and everybody just wants to kick off the summer. I’m feeling it, and I can’t wait ’till that nice, hot weather.