Kleshas and Tanhas

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Posts Tagged ‘community

Why Be A Line When You Can Be A Circle

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Excerpts taken from Rachel Naomi Remen’s In the Service of Life found in Noetic Sciences Review Spring 1996.
 “I think I would go so far as to say that fixing and helping may often be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul.”
This sentence captures Remen’s main point. I think it’s genius to address one of the major factors in service. Most especially, to give a name to this issue; within its nomenclature, the problem itself can be found. Helping. The word is thrown around a lot, both in and out of service-talk. Nevertheless, the word has the same meaning in both contexts.
“A server knows that he or she is being used and has a willingness to be used in the service of something greater, something essentially unknown.” 
This “major factor,” as I’ve put it, is dealing with cognizance; the server has to be aware of the consequences of his actions. The issue begins when someone is performing an action for someone else, and lacks an awareness for the essence of their action. Its quality, intent, and recipient are all factors of this essence. For example, if a waiter’s quality of work is sub par, he walks away with no tip at the end of the night. When Jimmy Rollins hits a foul ball and it hits someone in the stands, he had no intent of harming that fan. Finally, the passive individual -the recipient of the action- also has to be aware of the action. When you put a dollar bill into the soda machine, it has to recognize the paper before it processes the transaction.
“The wholeness in us serves the wholeness in others and the wholeness in life. The wholeness in you is the same as the wholeness in me. Service is a relationship between equals.
I would like to point out that Remen’s idea of solidarity is not linear or hierarchical. Not to put words in anyone’s mouth, but somewhere down the line, when I was developing an initial definition of solidarity, I must have heard the words “meeting the passive individual on their level.” In my mind, this would require a higher individual to lower him/herself to a lower level. And in Remen’s concept of service, this would be no different from helping. The ego would be lowered, not the soul.
“In fixing there is an inequality of expertise that can easily become a moral distance.
My simple solution is that Western thought of linear paths (e.g. Hell-Earth-Heaven stacked vertically) isn’t suited for solidarity. If one can take a flat circle ‘O’ and place it horizontally so that it’s flat, you get an even plane. The same thing would happen if you cut planet Earth like a guacamole; the insides of the two halves would be flat planes. It’s from this model that I think a more appropriate definition of solidarity would derive. Servers and those being served exist on this one plane. Equals. There would be no lowering to serve others; just crossing the circle-plane to reach them.
“When you serve, you see life as whole.”
In terms of my time at Mercy Neighborhood Ministries, one of the earlier realities I struggled with was that we were exempt from helping. Sure, from time to time, we helped open milk cartons for clients whose gnarled fingers couldn’t do the trick without spilling it, but there was no constant physical activity that would boost my ego (as Remen put it.) In this sense, I did feel some sort of internal reaction to the actual service I performed. After the crashing and burning of my ego that resulted from the deficit of help I was able to dish out, there was nothing to do but be refilled with Remen’s concept of wholeness.
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Written by Jack Viere

April 14, 2012 at 6:04 pm

“Dishes thou art, to dishes returnest”

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Recommended to listen to while reading

There ain’t never been a more patriotic act for volunteers than dishwashing. The whole history of dish washing is simple and easy for anyone and everyone to comprehend. From the Dawn of time, cavemen ate off of bone plates and drank from seashells. Apparently, legend has it, there were no recycling bins; the term “renewable resource” wasn’t the buzzword it is now. There were no bone or shell recycling plants yet for little Jimmy Grotto to partake in school-wide recycling challenges. And so, the origin of dishwashing came about from the lack environmental awareness of our monkey-ancestors.

               To this day, the art of dishwashing has been passed from some of the field’s greatest. Jesus Christ is most notable; the Bible botched the account of whose feet, or rather what chalice, he was washing that one Passover night. (You can’t say that Jesus didn’t help clean up after the Sadr Supper; it wasn’t kosher to eat and run.) Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto was really a call for the laborers to become more in touch with their roots, that is, dishwashing. Back in the day, supply and demand had obviously not existed, and there was no need for clean dishes. But during the second week of Genesis’ creation story, Adam had to address a more serious issue than original sin; the huge stack of dishes on their kitchen sink.

In his Margaritaville, Jimmy Buffet must’ve had quite a few empty glasses to clean up after that extravaganza. We can only infer that this lyrical genius was pointing to something greater in his songs. That is, the consequences of drinking out of glassware meant that glasses needed to be cleaned. In a not so similar way, Ghandi was known for his fasting. However, this did not mean he was exempt from cleaning up after others if not himself. Taoism’s unknown founder was a dishwasher. And on that note, anyone who has ever eaten a meal at some point in their life has encountered the dish dilemma: Do I clean these dishes or do I slip out the back and run?

The universality of this most sacred (in terms of health) tradition is something to marvel at. In partaking in this elementary act, one gains powerful insight to the greater cosmos of dishwashers. So when I was asked to deviate from my usual service by my superiors to do kitchen duty, I answered the call. Did I know what I was getting into? I sure as hell did! Dishwashing, if it has not been built up already, is the one act that I can string through my past, present, and most-hopefully future acts of service. There’s something rejuvenating about sticking your hands in scalding hot water for the greater glory of sanitization.

And by the way, there’s a reason why there are only men mentioned as some of the mythic heroes of dishwashing. At some point in time, the world became skewed. Somehow, the world’s reflection of itself portrays women performing women work. Today, in a very sexist manner, women are stereotyped as members of Occupy Kitchen. I would like to make a personal testimony that I have bled over dishwashing (quite literally) and find the task to be daunting for the rookies of the trade, male or female.[i] After the first few encounters, one can quickly calculate how many hours x a stack standing at y height will take with z washers.

So there was no surprise on my side when I walked into Mercy Neighborhood Ministries’ kitchen and stared down about an hour’s worth of dishwashing. Ms. Antoinette quickly recognized that I was no newbie when it came to dishwashing. Lessons on how to use an industrial-sized dishwasher are for suckers. By the end of it all, I had those dishes shining like the high-end dishes at the fine dining restaurant I work at back home. It’s inevitable. It’s one’s duty. “Do your dharma” is commonly used phrase in Eastern religions. It means “do your duty.” Do your dishes.

[i] The level of stress a volunteer dishwasher takes on in one load of 2.5 hours’ worth of dishes can take its toll. When I was asked with several other volunteers to do evening dishes in addition to morning dishes, the sight wasn’t pretty. About 30 minutes in, we found ourselves dazed in a mirage of soap n’ bubbles as if we were taking on some task like crossing the Nairobi Desert. In a heroic, maybe more so sporadic, attempt to cheer up one of my fellow volunteers in our grudging work, I blindly grabbed a wet knife fresh from the dishwasher machine. My plan was to emphatically stab the knife into the rubber carton that the cutlery was cleansed in as I shouted a “this is Sparta” line. Let’s just say in this not-so-bright moment, chaos got the better of me as the oddly-shaped cheese knife slid up out of my grip, and through my pinky finger. No cutlery was harmed in this scene. No blood was spilt either, so all health freaks, calm down. (We even ran that batch of silverware back through the washer.)

 

Written by Jack Viere

March 22, 2012 at 4:28 pm

A PTSD from Community Service

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Second semester has its unique challenges, none of which a college freshman would anticipate. After a stressful first semester of social, academic, and mental hills that had to be overcome, one would think that second semester would be a breeze. Once adjusted to a new living style, workload, and diet, the second semester was supposed to be just like the first except for new classes. However, the anxiety that I knew would develop at one point or another crept up in an unexpected manner. I think it has something to do with the spring semester’s mindset; there’s no rush to teach students how to become a college student anymore. That being said, the delayed assignments never seemed to be assigned. Without a familiarly dense course load, I grow anxious.

In a similar fashion, service at Mercy Neighborhood Ministries began to take its toll. The routine never changed. A few newcomers have joined the wolf pack that we met with every Tuesday, but I can’t blame any one individual for such a dramatic change in pace. On reentering the tunnel that we call a daily routine, you become familiar with your surroundings. The newness of space and time restraints fades as the tunnel becomes grayer and goes by unchecked as ordinary.

It’s not all that dreary, though. Familiarity allows for my service partners and me to develop deeper relationships with the clients at MNM. This opportunity is great when thinking of service in terms of being “for and with others.” Nevertheless, on the way back from service, my service partner and I simultaneously experienced a jolt of anguish. Oddly enough, she verbalized our shared feeling right after I thought, “This area is like a war zone. These people are fighting the odds here; it’s an uphill battle for them.” I couldn’t help but think of those melodramatic scenes in war films where the company is returning from the front. The troops are battered from what they’ve seen.

Yet, what I’ve seen is not just the neighborhoods in this part of Philadelphia. I am not belittling these people by depicting their environment from my perspective. That’d be cynical. This PTSD, if I may, seems to have been slowly developing like my anxiety for the workload of this second semester. The breaking point, this past Tuesday, came when my service partner and I both realized that at some point on our return trip, our relationships no longer exist with the clients at MNM. We don’t have the luxury to Facebook ‘em or shoot them an email. But we are somehow still expected to develop a relationship, which is becoming increasingly difficult during the time we spend away from them.

Within the restraints of being volunteers, we obviously don’t have access to clients’ personal or medical information. I’m not saying we should either, but it would be nice to know where Mr. Paul has gone. He was something to write about…How are we supposed to ask about him? If they wanted us to know, they would have shared. If we had access to some basic information, we wouldn’t have to ask. The last thing we heard was that he was in the hospital. And not to call out the blatantly obvious, but working with individuals of a certain age inevitably leads one to disregard a certain thought and place in the back of his or her mind.

Still, all the while, we go to service just the same. Our service is about relationships, no doubt, because we aren’t cleaning, cooking, preparing –or any type of physical labor. We found that out last semester. We don’t need to be constructing some physical memorabilia to point at after we have finished it, kicking back to relax saying, “Ah. We’ve done something good today. Check that off the list. Better yet, let’s take a photo.” What my service partners and I are left with, then, is spending time with the individual. On learning that clients at MNM, like Ms. Gladys, spend time all alone until they return to Mercy the next day, we experienced the significance of our time spent with the clients.

But where has Ms. Gladys gone off to? My service partner discovered by indirectly asking around that she hasn’t been able to attend MNM for various reasons. The fluidity of not only the comings and goings of the clients, but our coming and going causes a lot of disruption in developing relationships. I’m not sure what really can be done other than talking about it. The system won’t change for deeper relationships; I think that ranks pretty low, ironically, on the priority list for a company that has to be systematically run. I mean to say that, while idealistically, stronger relationships would be great, the structure of not only service learning would have to change, but MNM would have to somehow give some basic information on the whereabouts of the clients that we year-round volunteers have befriended. I know that may be crossing the line for the volunteer-administration relationship, which is business like, yet, how are we to just cross our fingers and hope that the same individuals will be there next week? We are prohibited from progressing in our relationships. And in that fifteen minute car ride back home, we just sit and hope that the person we just shared a joke with will be there next week.

Written by Jack Viere

February 5, 2012 at 9:30 am

When the Cloud Bursts

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I realized there’s no reason for me to live on the East Coast after my Winter Break. If my interests alone could determine where I’d reside, I would be somewhere along the Pacific Ocean. Yet, as I drank in the 70 degree weather on New Year’s Day, I felt a pull back home. Home exists somewhere between Virginia and Pennsylvania. If our personal entities could be categorized into body, heart, soul, and mind, college has easily captured my mind and body. Heart seems like it will always reside with my family. And soul; I could not figure out where my soul was when I looked out over the ocean as the sun set.

I had an unexpected encounter in the West with something I have placed into my mind and heart; the homeless. It’s quite a luxury when you can devote certain energies to different activities in your life. I hadn’t realized that I assumed my vacation would lead me away from any scenarios that seemed to exist in my college life. My college life, as I said, consists of my mind and body. Through community service, heart finds its way into my personhood. Apparently heart has also found a way out of it as well. Via selfishness.

The several-hour plane ride to vacation-land is boring. Why? Well, our minds are not entertained as thoroughly as we please. And in this momentary lapse of our mind’s functioning, we lose any responsibilities we had hoped to rid as we embarked on our self-indulgent vacation. The jetlag -an indicator of how far you’re willing to escape your duties- dulls us to the point where on entering the new airport, we encounter a sense of adventure. Even among all the pavement, architecture, and pre-existing community, we prepare ourselves to conquer our novel surroundings.

 

Immediately after exam week, I found myself in San Diego as if my work had earned me the right to kick back and relax. And kick back and relax I did; even to the point where I found other people making decisions for me –an oddity for the college student!

 

The sun sets on the West Coast with the same color I witness on the East.

As if I knew something about the homeless, I noticed that San Diego’s distinguishing characteristic was that its homeless were pushed to the water. My dream home would exist on the beach, so why not California? And as I jocularly thought where I’d place my million dollar home, I stumbled upon the homeless. I hate to admit it, but my first (internal) reaction was, “What? I thought I left this back home!”

 

Maybe Philadelphia does a better job of keeping its scenic sights (limited in comparison to San Diego’s –the Pacific is a winner take all!) free from the reach of the homeless. But as soon as I saw rag-tagged camouflage and trash bags, my vacation-illusion snapped. As I handed loose change from my pocket to distanced eyes, Philadelphia flooded my soul.

 

Mercy Neighborhood Ministries

To and from Mercy Neighborhood Ministries I encounter some display of economic evolution. Where do the employees of $7.25 and welfare checks live? When I saw an individual pushing a shopping cart, my soul took me back to the West; my mind painted a beautiful image of the beach; my heart felt the familiarity of my family; my body warmed by the omnipresent, perfect sun.

 

When I recognized the familiar faces as I walked through MNM’s doors, I experienced the same inner tumult from having my vacation-cloud burst. No one here had a vacation. The employees of MNM sure as hell worked hard for a well-deserved vacation. Where did they take it? What kept me from falling into a state of complete guilt were the new faces. That’s where my soul is. The potential. The growth. New faces meant new relationships, new stories. I found myself playing the same Rummy card game from San Diego with Mr. Lee. I still lose, whether I am playing on the East or West Coast.

Written by Jack Viere

January 29, 2012 at 2:45 pm

Case Study Showing When a “Like” is Used Instead of an “Um” or “Uh”

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That’s right. I did my own case study on math classmates who were presenting extra credit projects on God knows what; it was difficult to decipher the topics from the frequently used “likes”, “ums”, and “uhs.” Excuse me for using crude stereotypes to categorize the individuals who were used as my lab rats, but it would be difficult to convey the data without clearly depicting who I was studying. We have an array of cliches represented in this math class. Several Jersey girls, New Yorkers, hipsters, a track star, and musicians were compiled into this one study.

What I concluded was that if people were using a script, they were more susceptible to say Um or Uh. If they were improvising or recalling their information from memory, the would say Like.

Results**

The “hypothesis” I began with was that people from the Tri-State area would be more likely to use one of the three words I was counting. I also thought that females would be more likely to use these words more frequently than males. This latter portion, I conclude, proves true for Like-usage. However, in some instances, Ums and Uhs came from males more than females. I was surprised that the females that seemed like they would use Like more frequently did not live up to my expectations.* I’m talking about the spray on tan (it’s December, no one is suppose to glow,) too much make up, and wearing yoga pants to class females. (I did apologize for my crude stereotyping!) And yes, to my surprise, these individuals did not drop as many Likes as I thought. I found that they used note-cards to avoid putting a script in their own words. This is when I realized that Ums and Uhs were used more often; both words seemed to be used on inhales after someone read an extremely long line with no coma breaks!

Data 2 Graph**

I found this graph to be interesting in that we get a sense of the rate at which college students are using Likes, Ums, and Uhs. Girl 1, who I apologize for not knowing her name (because she sits on the other side of the room,) was clocked at a total of 36 likes in 3 minutes. That’s like, 1 like in every 5 seconds! I also found that the average use for Like for the 13 students was 5 for an average presentation of 138 seconds. That’s roughly 1 like in 28 seconds.

For Ums and Uhs, the out-lier of my data was using one of those two words every 6.75 seconds. The class as a whole was at risk of saying Um or Uh every 1.5 seconds for that same 2 and fourth minute long presentation. Sounds absurd (literally!)*

I conclusion, I found that certain cliches that I had stereotyped as high-Like users were not at risk!

*Sometime during the presentations, I realized that LITERALLY was the new buzzword that young people use so absentmindedly. Literally is more likely to come up in conversations and is used emphatically in lieu  of terms such as actually, in reality, and physically. (Listen to an adolescent, you’ll like, literally hear it a lot. Like literally…)
**Data was also collected by Stephen Sollami.

Written by Jack Viere

December 10, 2011 at 4:02 pm

A Farewell to Service for Christmas Time

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My last day of service began like it always does with the infamous cloudy weather that seems to initiate all of my posts pertaining to my service learning experiences. Rain is pretty miserable to endure without proper rain gear like umbrellas and thick jackets. I’m constantly reminded this as our Ford Focus whips along West Hunting Park Avenue, passing more individuals on foot than in vehicles.

I’ve never had to make a Christmas tree before. I guess that says a lot about where I come from; the haves and the have-nots of the holidays. One of the sisters at Mercy Neighborhood Ministries asked us to assemble a six foot tree. Apologizing in advance, she forewarned us that we might be gnawing at each other by the end of this grueling process. Yikes. This wasn’t really my idea of easing into the preliminary Christmas spirit; up until then, all the coursework that my professors have been throwing my way have busied my schedule so that I could not sense any tinge of secular X-mas. (I’d say that’s a good thing from a faith standpoint!)

here we are after getting that tree together

The Christmas tree assembly brought out the worst of us as my service partners and I poked harmless  fun at each other’s ideas on how to mantle the tree with lights and decorations. A string of three year-olds passed by as we figured out which branches were the longest and were to be placed on the bottom of the rod. There were more ooh’s and aah’s from their mouths than you’d hear for that overdecorated house your family drives by every Christmas to marvel at its grandeur. The tree wasn’t even finished. You could see the ugly metal that the fake “fir” branches were stemming out from; it was hideous. Yet, I began to wonder how many of these kids had trees. For Thanksgiving, various community programs affiliated with MNM donated turkeys and other supplies for the parents of these children (and other age groups) to take home and serve as their feast. So I’ve got the vibe from this act of charity, as well as from the walks we’ve taken in the immediate area, that this community includes individuals who don’t have that financial excess to purchase a tree; real or fake. (And apparently, those fake one’s are price fairly high; it made me feel less guilty that I blurted out we had a real one every year back home.)

On our way home, we always find it difficult to meet everyone’s musical tastes. My service partner Earl has resorted to bringing his iPod. Graziella and I have agreed upon cheesy 80’s music that we can sing along with most of the time. After setting up the holiday decorations at MNM, what better genre to listen to than the Christmas stations? On immediately pulling out of Venago Street, we tuned into hear “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.” It was drizzling at this point, and the only thing my mind would focus on was the stark contrast between the bright and cheery words of Bing Crosby and the darkness from our immediate surroundings; factors were the predominantly black neighborhood and rain. Similarly, as we sat in traffic on City Avenue,  Perry Como’s Home for the Holiday’s lyrics really spoke to me:

From Pennsylvania folks are trav’lin’ down
To Dixie’s sunny shore
From Atlantic to Pacific, gee,
The traffic is terrific!

I couldn’t help but think, “Hey! That’s me in PA, and I want to travel back home to Dixie. My oh my, what horrible traffic we are sitting in!” This song proved to be an excellent soundtrack for my self-absorption as I watched a disabled man in an electronic wheel chair traverse a puddle in the downpour.  We all saw, witnessed, and quickly looked away as we knew we couldn’t do anything to help his pathetic case even while our whole service learning class’ focus was an empathy-over-sympathy approach. That really put me in the Christmas spirit! And what fostered this lively mood came after a cement truck cut us off; a bumper ornament of a male’s genitalia dangled in front of us as Frank Sinatra sang Let It Snow.

A Crippling Digital Divide: Social Injustice Caused by Advertisements Part 2

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Today, America’s attitude towards consumption exacerbates the digital divide between higher income individuals and lower socio-economic groups. In Time’s Luxury Survey, research shows a surge in consumerism with those born between 1980 and 2000. “Because [18-27 year olds have] grown up in the age of dotcom billionaires, wealth and success are a given” (Time, 2008). At the turn of the century came the invention of the smartphone. In 1992, IBM’s Simon was a concept smartphone that initiated the trend of handheld devices (Schneidawind, 1992). While this technology evolved into the sleek, status-fulfilling must-have-item, a sense of inherent exigency began to dominate young adults. The category “looking stylish is important to feeling good about myself” had a 93% approval vote from young adults (Time, 2008). The smartphone’s timely introduction during the turn of the century has taken advantage of America’s new fashion; consumption.

What further deepens the digital divide is advertisers’ selection of who is depicted using what product. In another commercial, Boost Mobile promotes its Anthem 2.0 phone. Among others, rapper Young Jeezy advertises the new product by using lines of his material to promote the practicality of Boost Mobile’s deal offered sublimely through the thirty second clip (Boost Mobile, 2007). In this instance, Boost Mobile promotes their Anthem 2.0 to a young, pop-culture-fixed consumer population. With several rappers promoting their product, Boost Mobile attracts the attention of not only the youth, but a black population as well. In contrast with this specific commercial, Apple products are geared towards a white population. In a commercial promoting a Macintosh computer, actor Justin Long utilizes wit and charm to depict the sharp edge of Apple products (Apple, 2007). There is a drastic difference between these two commercials; it is easy to see who is to be using what brands of technology.

It is no coincidence, then, that the racial divide in America factors into the digital divide. Preying upon crude stereotypes, commercials depict more than who should be using what form of technology; they depict a financial gap between the races that is prevalent in today’s society. “The poverty rate for non-Hispanic Whites was lower than the poverty rates for other racial groups…For Blacks, the poverty rate increased to 27.4 percent in 2010, up from 25.8 percent in 2009” (Census Bureau, 2010). This conveys that the white population is more financially sound to purchase expensive technologies such as the Macintosh computer in the Apple commercial. “Broken down by race and ethnicity, African American residents of rural areas and central cities had the lowest level of access to computers (6.4 and 10.4 percent), followed by central city Latinos (10.5 percent)” (Modarres, 2011). Computers allow for more than social networking, emails, and entertainment; the limitations of a smartphone. Computers enable a white population to a more expansive spread of technology, information, and internet use.

From this difference between the levels of access to the internet derives a social injustice. While there exists a digital divide between upper and lower socio-economic classes, there is a misconception that smartphones are closing the gap by allowing access to the internet.

“While there is a distinction between using a phone for communication and using it to access digital information, it should be equally obvious that having a smart phone is not the same as having a networked computer (laptop or desktop) that allows the user to create and manage a business or a community Web site” (ibid).

Non-white, typically poorer consumers are able to purchase cheap deals from companies like Boost Mobile and the issue of the digital divide appears to be solved. However, smartphones only allow for a limited access to the internet. Social networking does not equate to a full, complete use of the internet, and assuming that smartphones are bridging the digital divide is ethically harmful.

The social injustice, then, is the limited internet access poorer individuals have and the misperceptions of affluent individuals who believe that smartphones are a legitimate portal for a full access to the internet. This inhibits the poor from gaining better access to knowledge as well as cripples young peoples’ education.

“The most devastating consequences of the digital divide are the long-term effects it will have on today’s youth. Lacking access to technology and computer skills, an entire generation will be disempowered from realizing its full potential to contribute to society” (Koss, 2001).

Furthermore, the statistics from the US Census Bureau support Time’s concept of young adults’ intrinsic need for material goods. While more expensive computers would be more beneficial in an educational setting for today’s youth, cheaper, more attainable, and incomplete smartphones are fashionable and more captivating for young people to purchase. The media drives this social injustice by depicting who is to buy what products by feeding off of racial stereotypes. As a result, innovations, such as smartphones, are frequently built on top of misconceptions. Change, in this instance, is restrained by empowered advertisers. As Heraclitus once said, “Nothing endures but change.” The hold that advertisers have on their consumers disproves Heraclitus; people will buy what is trendy and ignore the social injustice that they create for themselves.

References

Apple. (2007, January 9). Get a mac-surgery [Video file]. Video posted to

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ci2D1ig4df4

Alverman, D. E. (2004). Media, Information Communication Technologies, and Youth Literacies: A

Cultural Studies Perspective. American Behavioral Scientist, 48(1), 78-83. doi:10.1177/0002764204267271

Boost Mobile. (2011, April 6). Working man [Video file]. Video posted to

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZX6tHkW7xg

Boost Mobile. (2007, December 23). Anthem 2.0 rap commercial [Video file]. Video posted to

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rnvYBtZNowU

Coupland, D. (1991). Generation x, tales for an accelerated culture. St. Martin’s Griffin.

Koss, F.A. (2001). Children Falling into the Digital Divide. Journal Of International Affairs, 55(1), 75.

LaGesse, D. (2001). So many gadgets and so little time. U.S. News & World Report, 130(2), 36.

Modarres, A. (2011). Beyond the digital divide. National Civic Review, 100(3), 4-7. doi10.1002/ncr.20069

Pain. S. (2006). The phone that roared. New Scientist. 190(2550).

Schneidawind, J. (1992). Big blue unveliling. USA Today.

The Luxury Survey. (Cover story). (2008). Time, 17158-59

U.S. Census Bureau. (2009, October). Current population survey, reported internet usage for

households, by selected householder. Retrieved December 3, 2011, from http://www.census.gov/hhes/computer/publications/2009.html

U.S. Census Bureau. (2010, September). Income, poverty, and health insurance coverage in the united

states: 2010. Retrieved December 3, 2011, from http://www.census.gov/prod/2011pubs/p60-239.pdf

35% of American Adults Own a Smartphone. (2011, July 11). PewResearchCenter Publications. Retrieved

December 3, 2011, from http://pewresearch.org/pubs/2054/smartphone-ownership-demographics-iphone-blackberry-android

Written by Jack Viere

December 5, 2011 at 11:30 am