Aryan's A-Z

The Prevalence of Implicit Bias The World Has Shaped Us To "Know Who We Are". But Do We?           About 40% of white Americans have friends who are exclusively of the same race as themselves. Yet racism rates amongst whites have dropped significantly in the last century, so the question remains as to how such outwards racism and discrimination can still withstand as prevalent an issue as it is. Implicit bias is a type of mental and subconscious bigotry in which people, using the media and their own personal experiences with the world around them, form biases regarding different groups and elements that can build up over time and stir directed responses and habits towards those things to which they hold bias towards. Implicit bias severely restricts and segregates human relationships, and can be easily avoided through its acknowledgement coupled with the utilization of counteractive methods that can combat its effects.         ...

                 This is the truth of the legendary land of Wocasti, a place so mystical that its roots came as a shock to the few who were fortunate enough to discover them. Just as a disclaimer, this story is a bit abstract and fantastical, so you will really need to pay close attention to the details so you know what's happening. Now, put away those earbuds, toss out that second tab, stop arguing with your mother about how your sore muscles negated you from washing the dishes, and buckle up for a journey about the origins and expeditions in this magnificent tale through the eyes of young Levi. How We TRULY Came To Be “Let me tell you a story, young ones, of a land so magical that all the fairy tales in the world bowed down to its glory and mystique. It is the story of our land, the place we’ve all held so close to our hearts since birth, the story of Wocasti,” a warm chuckle mixed with a hint of booze ushered a chorus of giggles and e...

 The Window Sills A billions years to erase one scar, Yet the marks still seep on the inside, Gun shots had blared and my heart skipped a beat, Those memories were all that I’d wished had died. A criminal deserved of execution, The court glaring down his sweaty brow, A flicker of hope, for avengement, for sanctuary, But like a seed, my optimism met a plow. He was meant to be gone, Life was meant to be perfect, I was meant to be liberated Of this pain, this misery, this defect. Now like a boiling vat of lava, Coursing down a slope of molten rock, The rage trickles down and bubbles serendipitously, Vengeance closes in like a cage and I need no lock. I grow up through the days, A smile adorned to my face, The facade beneath its looming presence, Swings around like an unchained mace. And when the moment finally comes, And opportunity lends me its fateful hand, I meet the perpetrator of such inglorious crimes, And feel all pain trickling away like a grain of sand. His cheeky smile and b...