hoy me crei periodista (de la Universidad de Chile)
Megan on a Mission:
When I was thinking about what to be when I grew up (still thinking), I thought about being a Journalist. I write well, I care about things, I have a voice that I think people would like to hear. But something that journalists do, at least in the United States, is take a neutral stance on things. Their job is to report what is going on in the world, and then those watching can pick sides. But I don't think I could be neutral. Especially in my writing. But today I decided to go along with my boyfriend to his public forum/voting assembly at the University of Chile, to be a journalism student for a day.
He didn't want to go:
But I did. So I convinced him that it is our civic duty to vote, because if he didn't vote, than I would not put up with any complaining over the outcome. He groaned, but I think he agreed, because we made plans to meet up in the subway. I wanted to go because I love him, wanted to see him, but I also really wanted to see what happened at these voting assemblies.Maybe see a heated discussion go on between journalists, I wanted to know why they had wasted education that they themselves had to pay for by being "en paro."
MI POLOLO ESTA EN PARO:
The only translation I can think of for Paro is its like being on strike. No school as long as the students keep voting against it. The students have however long they feel necessary to make pamphlets, protest, and have these assemblies. The question I wanted answered was why. I mean, everyone I had asked said it was because they were lazy, they wanted vacation, school suxxxx, but that was obviously not the "reason". Today I learned the big reason for the strike was caused by the educational reform here in Chile. Apparently, the students were not pleased with the reform going on, with what was written in the constitution, and of course, having time of school can be nice. That means that my boyfriend, Diego, hasn't been to school in ten weeks (and counting.) So as we arrived at the auditorium, we took our seats next to his three really cool best friends. They were shocked to see him, because they go often, and Diego goes, well, this was his first time. LOL. We had arrived late, but it didn't matter, because the discussion about paro went on for three hours. Not joking.
The longest discussion of nothing:
There were three people dictating the discussion: Ruben, and two girls that were part of like a student council. I hate student councils, and I feel like I would probably not go if I were Diego too. But we were there, the discussion was in full swing. Ruben and his two ladies are going to be really good at journalism, because their responses were about as neutral as it gets. I soon realized that this whole forum was incredibly pointless. They were still talking about if they should be on strike or nah. I would have hoped that they would have, after ten weeks, solidified their opinions on the strike. Or what they wanted to do about it. They kept on mentioning a community, sticking together, and about how this was affecting their classmates. The same words over and over. But their was no solidarity, there was not even right or wrong in the situation. There was only words being thrown around casually, repeatedly, and I was surprised. Because they are journalists. Or at least future journalists.
A red headed communist and the marcha blanca:
Ruben moved on to talk about scholarships, and how people were going to lose them if no action was taken. 'This community..Solidarity..classmates..classmates." People discussed possible solutions, and when I say people, I mean the red head named Eloisa and her homies. They had opinions and wanted the strike to live on in infamy. But that is not logical (in my opinion). The homies decided that a solution would be to go protest the scholarship department, like a super strike. Then a girl with the scholarship spoke up, blaming the student council for not telling them earlier. They were going to lose their scholarships, because they were not going to school. You can't get paid for doing something you aren't doing. That is logical. Red headed commie said that maybe, just maybe, the strike would end, if coming back, they could have "marcha blanca" for a week. Slowly easing back into the routine of school, no tests, no piles of work. I laughed at Eloisa and her homies, because they must live in the clouds.
Perro muerde nina. Paro sigue.
Too much talking; I went outside to buy something to eat with Diego's friends. They're sweet, and they answered my questions. As we went back inside, I thought voting would have started, but there was more discussion. Diego moved around in his seat, he had taken funny pictures of Ruben. Diego is so cute. We both skipped lunch and it was taking its toll. It was going on the third hour, and people were coming and going, red headed commie kept talking to Ruben. It turns out there is no ballot box, not even a ballot, and we voted in front of everyone. I felt proud to vote against the strike, and the super strike that the commies had planned. I felt like I was doing something, like maybe my opinion mattered. Even though I had never been on strike in my life.
Victory! Sort of?
In our vote, it had been decided that the strike could only last like two week more, at the most. But was that really victory? I think that the people wanted it to go on longer to prove that something had been done, something had changed. But nothing really had. Only money down the drain, and summer vacations cut down. For being journalists, I think there could have been more done, articles, radios, something to get attention. But then again, they do not study marketing. So my opinion, because I am not a journalist, is that you get what you work for. I don't like going to college. But I know that if I work hard, that I will learn and eventually graduate and make it rain cash money. I know college isn't free, but nothing is really free. So my opinion is that the strike didn't change anything, didn't make anything right. This victory isn't sweet, because no one cared enough to win, and no one cared enough to lose.
When I was thinking about what to be when I grew up (still thinking), I thought about being a Journalist. I write well, I care about things, I have a voice that I think people would like to hear. But something that journalists do, at least in the United States, is take a neutral stance on things. Their job is to report what is going on in the world, and then those watching can pick sides. But I don't think I could be neutral. Especially in my writing. But today I decided to go along with my boyfriend to his public forum/voting assembly at the University of Chile, to be a journalism student for a day.
He didn't want to go:
But I did. So I convinced him that it is our civic duty to vote, because if he didn't vote, than I would not put up with any complaining over the outcome. He groaned, but I think he agreed, because we made plans to meet up in the subway. I wanted to go because I love him, wanted to see him, but I also really wanted to see what happened at these voting assemblies.Maybe see a heated discussion go on between journalists, I wanted to know why they had wasted education that they themselves had to pay for by being "en paro."
MI POLOLO ESTA EN PARO:
The only translation I can think of for Paro is its like being on strike. No school as long as the students keep voting against it. The students have however long they feel necessary to make pamphlets, protest, and have these assemblies. The question I wanted answered was why. I mean, everyone I had asked said it was because they were lazy, they wanted vacation, school suxxxx, but that was obviously not the "reason". Today I learned the big reason for the strike was caused by the educational reform here in Chile. Apparently, the students were not pleased with the reform going on, with what was written in the constitution, and of course, having time of school can be nice. That means that my boyfriend, Diego, hasn't been to school in ten weeks (and counting.) So as we arrived at the auditorium, we took our seats next to his three really cool best friends. They were shocked to see him, because they go often, and Diego goes, well, this was his first time. LOL. We had arrived late, but it didn't matter, because the discussion about paro went on for three hours. Not joking.
The longest discussion of nothing:
There were three people dictating the discussion: Ruben, and two girls that were part of like a student council. I hate student councils, and I feel like I would probably not go if I were Diego too. But we were there, the discussion was in full swing. Ruben and his two ladies are going to be really good at journalism, because their responses were about as neutral as it gets. I soon realized that this whole forum was incredibly pointless. They were still talking about if they should be on strike or nah. I would have hoped that they would have, after ten weeks, solidified their opinions on the strike. Or what they wanted to do about it. They kept on mentioning a community, sticking together, and about how this was affecting their classmates. The same words over and over. But their was no solidarity, there was not even right or wrong in the situation. There was only words being thrown around casually, repeatedly, and I was surprised. Because they are journalists. Or at least future journalists.
A red headed communist and the marcha blanca:
Ruben moved on to talk about scholarships, and how people were going to lose them if no action was taken. 'This community..Solidarity..classmates..classmates." People discussed possible solutions, and when I say people, I mean the red head named Eloisa and her homies. They had opinions and wanted the strike to live on in infamy. But that is not logical (in my opinion). The homies decided that a solution would be to go protest the scholarship department, like a super strike. Then a girl with the scholarship spoke up, blaming the student council for not telling them earlier. They were going to lose their scholarships, because they were not going to school. You can't get paid for doing something you aren't doing. That is logical. Red headed commie said that maybe, just maybe, the strike would end, if coming back, they could have "marcha blanca" for a week. Slowly easing back into the routine of school, no tests, no piles of work. I laughed at Eloisa and her homies, because they must live in the clouds.
Perro muerde nina. Paro sigue.
Too much talking; I went outside to buy something to eat with Diego's friends. They're sweet, and they answered my questions. As we went back inside, I thought voting would have started, but there was more discussion. Diego moved around in his seat, he had taken funny pictures of Ruben. Diego is so cute. We both skipped lunch and it was taking its toll. It was going on the third hour, and people were coming and going, red headed commie kept talking to Ruben. It turns out there is no ballot box, not even a ballot, and we voted in front of everyone. I felt proud to vote against the strike, and the super strike that the commies had planned. I felt like I was doing something, like maybe my opinion mattered. Even though I had never been on strike in my life.
Victory! Sort of?
In our vote, it had been decided that the strike could only last like two week more, at the most. But was that really victory? I think that the people wanted it to go on longer to prove that something had been done, something had changed. But nothing really had. Only money down the drain, and summer vacations cut down. For being journalists, I think there could have been more done, articles, radios, something to get attention. But then again, they do not study marketing. So my opinion, because I am not a journalist, is that you get what you work for. I don't like going to college. But I know that if I work hard, that I will learn and eventually graduate and make it rain cash money. I know college isn't free, but nothing is really free. So my opinion is that the strike didn't change anything, didn't make anything right. This victory isn't sweet, because no one cared enough to win, and no one cared enough to lose.
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