George Saunders, “On the Importance of Kindness”

Ellen: a young girl in search of someplace to call "home". She endured a painful struggle just to fit in with the crowd. She was judged not by her character, but by the way she dressed. To offer us an example, Saunders tells us that she wore "these blue cats eye glasses that at the time only old ladies wore." In relation to the time period, those glasses were out of style. The audience understands that during this time, young girls who wore these glasses would experience teasing and bullying from the author's insight on this topic. Today's readers (especially those under 18) would likely not have any knowledge regarding fashion during the era of Ellen's childhood, nor would they have any idea how Ellen felt.

Not everybody knows the horror of being bullied, ostracized, demeaned. Not everybody has even seen this occur. Ellen would walk through the halls, "eyes cast down, a little gut-kicked." The imagery of this statement condemns the act of tormenting others. What looks like a joke to you, is a life of pain for them. Being able to see the scene, to feel Ellen's pain, offers a whole new perspective on the sheer magnitude of the story. Why must she be the one to go through such injustice? What prompted those bullies to do such unspeakable things to Ellen? As a society, there's one thing (among many) that we continue to do and never learn from. We resent the unfamiliar. During the Cold War, people hated communists. During the Iraq war and even today, people hated Muslims. And now, in Saunders' experience, people hated Ellen. Why? Because she was different.

Saunders tried to help, but his assistance was overshadowed by the malicious intent of the other students. It is Ellen's suffering that causes Saunders to remember her so fondly. Despite the fact that Saunders is telling the story, he connects it to everybody. He asks the audience, "Or, to look at it from the other end of the telescope, who in your life, do you remember most fondly?" This question proves interesting to the audience, showing that everyone has at one time been in Saunders' shoes. Everyone in this room, everyone who is reading this post right now, knows someone special in their life. My dad, the one who raised me from when I was an infant in New Hampshire to now, and he's still going. Every struggle and accomplishment that I've had, he's been there. With my sister away at college, he's all I have to talk to. Who in your life makes all the difference regardless of where you are?

Catcher in the Rye 17-18

"That's not how you write a W!" the teacher screamed before I frantically erased my handiwork. It was my first grade teacher, we'll just call her Mrs. Doe, that made writing the alphabet feel like defusing a bomb. The slow, steady movement of my pencil marked my survival, or my failure. Mrs. Doe walked across the room like a warden inspecting the prisoners.

I'm free from those people when I'm in my basement. Nobody talks about my mistakes or every single flaw about me. I live on my own terms, carefree. When I go down there, my drum set calls out to me, to beat rhythm after rhythm. Nobody is there to judge or patronize. It' just me, and only me.

Catcher in the Rye 15-16

Ding! The bell sounds as the students at Mason Intermediate rush away from the lunch room, making sure to put their trays away. One by one, they toss the trays onto the stack, no sense of order or cleanliness. After seeing the monstrous creation of the students, a loud voice in my mind screams at me to put things in order. Every day, this would be the pattern. I didn't care if anyone knew it was me. I didn't even care that I was doing a good thing. The fact that the others were being so disorganized just irritated me. If I didn't straighten them, who would?

Catcher in the Rye 9-10

    Disguised as a simple annoyance, an idea manifests itself inside of every living man, woman, and child. The rattle that happens in your car, the one that nobody else can hear. Screeching inside your mind lies a voice that can't be silenced, but at the same time can't be heard. The question is this: Why can't anybody hear the rattle? Why can't anybody stop the rattle and guide me to silence? Nobody ever will. The rattle is yours and yours only. Each individual faces a problem that only they can

perceive, ignorant of all others.

    Holden's rattle sings of his late brother, Allie. After pouring out a heartfelt essay about Allie's baseball glove, Stradlater dismisses Holden by saying, "For Chrissake, Holden. This is about a ****** baseball glove." Stradlater, while holding on to his own rattle, failed to hear Holden's. In a similar fashion, the dealership worker, after being unable to hear the rattle in Daryn's car, gives her the "It’s time for you to go home now, Crazy Lady" look. The rattle didn't appear, but it was still there.

    The most sensitive memories, the most painful, appear only to us. The rattle inside our brains every second of every day. Rattle, rattle, rattle, you hear faintly. To lower the volume is simple. To erase it completely is impossible.