The Mask Project
I decided to write this essay about myself, and how I have been impacted by the cycle of socialization. I have written a lot of essays in school about all sorts of thing, but this, this essay, these words on paper was the hardest thing I have ever had to wright. As I departed on the adventure to write this work, I had to confront demons hidden away in my psyche, falsehoods that I had to overcome, and at one point I had to stop writing because I was shaking to the point where I could not keep typing. After all of that, this is the imperfect peace of paper I present to you.
Who am I?
Bryan Gnehm
“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Manon, Ballerina
“A peace of a paper, unmarked, blank, filled with possibility, hope, yet limited surrounded by a border. A border which stops the possibility, the hope, the opportunity. You can try, but you will never be able to draw any further than the paper goes, yet while you are entwined in writing, or drawing you forget the borders you forget the impossibility for. Slowly this pieces of paper is picked up my the wind drifting, swaying, moving, down, down, down.
“Anything is possible if you put your mind to it” - Mom
Thanks in large parts to my family's wealth throughout my life people in my life have been able to tell me this, again, ang again with it being true. For a long time I believed this statement. I felt borderless. I could do anything--after all this was America, the land of hope, a land where anything was possible. This is of course is not entirely true, but the reason I feel I was able to believe this, to trust that I truly could do anything if because my Family is in the top one percent. Thanks to the money, it is easier to believe this, for as a kid and still now I have everything I need or want in the palm of my hand. I can afford to go to college, I can get a car when I sixteen, I can get medical aid when I need it, I have food on the table every day. I am privileged. When I was younger I did not fully understand this concept of wealth or privilege, and how it truly make the statement “that you do anything you set your mind to” is true. Not till I started really making my decision and thinking for myself did I really start understanding how rich my family is, and how much this privileges me. Before I this I remember how when I went to people house’s I would feel kind of weird in a way if there house was small, or bigger than my house I would also get this feeling when I would in most cases have more toys than them. I knew something was “wrong” something was different, but I was not able to really place it I caught no trace it back to wealth; while all the while I dreamt of a limitless future thank to wealth. My life continued with be being oblivious. My next experience of being confronted, and confused by money was when I was a bit older in 3rd grade. First I would like to say that when you are young all that matter is that your the best, your number one, and in any argument you had to win. I am really competitive, and so I would need to win any argument, I would be first, I would we wright, I would have to the last word, but I would not have logic on my side. Friend “I bet my dad is stronger than yours” Me “No he is not my dad is the strongest” Friend “No he is not”Me “Yes he is!’
Argument like this would continue, and continue, and continue until typically a outside force stopped us. I would argue about anything, and everything under the sun, except wealth. Whenever money was brought up I would simply exit for the argument. Friend “I bet I have more money”My “Yes you probably do” I guess at some point when I was younger, I was told or shown that having money was in some way something to be ashamed of in conversations, and everywhere else. I don't know why or when I was socialized to do this, but for as long as I can remember I have been ashamed of having money, of being rich. To this day in conversation I still have a hard time talking about money, I think “Oh if the now my family rich I will we stereotypes as a evil businessman.” I'm scared, I'm scared of money.
Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S.A. and like so many others of this generation I to struggled with suicide, and depression in a way that almost ended my life. 1 By all accounts I was a happy, joyful kid I was upbeat, and happy you would never see a frown on my face. I would take all the bad emotions and bottle them up, and throw them away, but this ended in disaster like what happens when you removing too many supports from a building I collapse in on myself my psyche was shattered broken into 1 million pieces. I turned from happy to an emotional mess, this is also the time were I changed from a extravert to a introvert. In these dark time I struggled, fought with my emotions daily it was a life or death fight that I was not always winning, and at some point I truly did not know if I was going to be on this planet much longer. When I was about 12 my parents got a divorce this hit like a sledgehammer to the face shattering everything i had ever known. Looking back now I guess i'm lucky in a way. Lucky to have had the hardest thing in my life be my parents splitting up. Looking around at other people how have experienced so much worth, and the worst thing that had happened to me was a divorce, and for that I am thankful. However at that time I did not thank that; instead I did not think anything I shut myself of, stopped speaking, laughing, or showing emotion, in some way I became less human. This was my way of trying to cope with the pain, and the sadness. I did not feel worthy or “wright” I felt like the problem, so I shifted my entire life to revolve about getting attention. I entered a downward spiral, and got depressed with my life, and the world. I would sit alone for hours, and hours without moving, talking, feeling, with only darkness around me, but I would be in pain so much pain. In this type of trance, time around me would pass in a weird way in one minute it would be a hour, and in a hour it had been only a minute, I felt myself slipping, slipping down to a place of no return. It was not the I had lost all sense of fun or emotion it was just that they were faint, or exaggerated. One time I was on stage presenting my science fair project, and I was not having fun persay, but enjoying myself explaining about some random thing. I finished left the stage, and I was gone in the blink of an eye I broke down crying for know reason. I would be incapable of movement or even prossening the outside world in moments like this. This all came to a point one day when I was lying in bed, and I think my exact thought was “How simple would it be just to go to the balcony and through myself over” This thought gave me a wield sense of peace, happiness it felt good to think this. As the weak continued I continued to contemplate suicide however something held me back, fear, fear saved my live. I don't believe in a higher power, I simply believe that when I die there is nothing, and it was this thought that saved my life, the fear of death, and whatever was after it. Since that weak I have contemplated suicide a few more times, but I never have considered it as a real option. The depression has stuck with me, and will most likely always be with me I have learned to cope with it tough and it is no longer a problem in my life. The depression was like a sledgehammer hitting me, I hurt made my cry want it all to end, but in the end it broke a way a mask I had put over myself a fake human to reveal my how I am.
This is who I am in a nutshell, and what I believe are the defining aspect of my socialtion, . I wright this to try my best to comprehend the world in a better way, to be able look past the mask someone is wearing, and have sympathy for what struggles they went through. This essay has really opened my eyes it a great many thing I have had to confront demons to get these words onto paper; demons that made me shake uncontrollably till I had to stopped writing, but In the End I slayed the demons for know. Thank to the essay I think I have truly found myself, and I have know brought to the surface how I really am.
As the peace of paper moves silently, shifting through the wind ever bending ever moving it lands softly, but roughly on a desk. The desk of everything. One by one masked creatures start going by like the movement of time they go past nether fast and slow, as they pass they wright they scribble they crumply the tear the make the peace of paper happy, sad, excited, nerves, finally after both a second and a eteraty. They stopped, all crowding around the looked down with a smile, all together they lowered down a mask blank as a unpainted wall, jumping, running, crawling, they moved away and formed a circle, and now for the first time it was quite waiting, waiting until from the peace of paper a creature steps forward, the creature reaches up and pulls of the mask, he is my, and I am him the man from paper”
Who am I?
Bryan Gnehm
“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Manon, Ballerina
“A peace of a paper, unmarked, blank, filled with possibility, hope, yet limited surrounded by a border. A border which stops the possibility, the hope, the opportunity. You can try, but you will never be able to draw any further than the paper goes, yet while you are entwined in writing, or drawing you forget the borders you forget the impossibility for. Slowly this pieces of paper is picked up my the wind drifting, swaying, moving, down, down, down.
“Anything is possible if you put your mind to it” - Mom
Thanks in large parts to my family's wealth throughout my life people in my life have been able to tell me this, again, ang again with it being true. For a long time I believed this statement. I felt borderless. I could do anything--after all this was America, the land of hope, a land where anything was possible. This is of course is not entirely true, but the reason I feel I was able to believe this, to trust that I truly could do anything if because my Family is in the top one percent. Thanks to the money, it is easier to believe this, for as a kid and still now I have everything I need or want in the palm of my hand. I can afford to go to college, I can get a car when I sixteen, I can get medical aid when I need it, I have food on the table every day. I am privileged. When I was younger I did not fully understand this concept of wealth or privilege, and how it truly make the statement “that you do anything you set your mind to” is true. Not till I started really making my decision and thinking for myself did I really start understanding how rich my family is, and how much this privileges me. Before I this I remember how when I went to people house’s I would feel kind of weird in a way if there house was small, or bigger than my house I would also get this feeling when I would in most cases have more toys than them. I knew something was “wrong” something was different, but I was not able to really place it I caught no trace it back to wealth; while all the while I dreamt of a limitless future thank to wealth. My life continued with be being oblivious. My next experience of being confronted, and confused by money was when I was a bit older in 3rd grade. First I would like to say that when you are young all that matter is that your the best, your number one, and in any argument you had to win. I am really competitive, and so I would need to win any argument, I would be first, I would we wright, I would have to the last word, but I would not have logic on my side. Friend “I bet my dad is stronger than yours” Me “No he is not my dad is the strongest” Friend “No he is not”Me “Yes he is!’
Argument like this would continue, and continue, and continue until typically a outside force stopped us. I would argue about anything, and everything under the sun, except wealth. Whenever money was brought up I would simply exit for the argument. Friend “I bet I have more money”My “Yes you probably do” I guess at some point when I was younger, I was told or shown that having money was in some way something to be ashamed of in conversations, and everywhere else. I don't know why or when I was socialized to do this, but for as long as I can remember I have been ashamed of having money, of being rich. To this day in conversation I still have a hard time talking about money, I think “Oh if the now my family rich I will we stereotypes as a evil businessman.” I'm scared, I'm scared of money.
Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S.A. and like so many others of this generation I to struggled with suicide, and depression in a way that almost ended my life. 1 By all accounts I was a happy, joyful kid I was upbeat, and happy you would never see a frown on my face. I would take all the bad emotions and bottle them up, and throw them away, but this ended in disaster like what happens when you removing too many supports from a building I collapse in on myself my psyche was shattered broken into 1 million pieces. I turned from happy to an emotional mess, this is also the time were I changed from a extravert to a introvert. In these dark time I struggled, fought with my emotions daily it was a life or death fight that I was not always winning, and at some point I truly did not know if I was going to be on this planet much longer. When I was about 12 my parents got a divorce this hit like a sledgehammer to the face shattering everything i had ever known. Looking back now I guess i'm lucky in a way. Lucky to have had the hardest thing in my life be my parents splitting up. Looking around at other people how have experienced so much worth, and the worst thing that had happened to me was a divorce, and for that I am thankful. However at that time I did not thank that; instead I did not think anything I shut myself of, stopped speaking, laughing, or showing emotion, in some way I became less human. This was my way of trying to cope with the pain, and the sadness. I did not feel worthy or “wright” I felt like the problem, so I shifted my entire life to revolve about getting attention. I entered a downward spiral, and got depressed with my life, and the world. I would sit alone for hours, and hours without moving, talking, feeling, with only darkness around me, but I would be in pain so much pain. In this type of trance, time around me would pass in a weird way in one minute it would be a hour, and in a hour it had been only a minute, I felt myself slipping, slipping down to a place of no return. It was not the I had lost all sense of fun or emotion it was just that they were faint, or exaggerated. One time I was on stage presenting my science fair project, and I was not having fun persay, but enjoying myself explaining about some random thing. I finished left the stage, and I was gone in the blink of an eye I broke down crying for know reason. I would be incapable of movement or even prossening the outside world in moments like this. This all came to a point one day when I was lying in bed, and I think my exact thought was “How simple would it be just to go to the balcony and through myself over” This thought gave me a wield sense of peace, happiness it felt good to think this. As the weak continued I continued to contemplate suicide however something held me back, fear, fear saved my live. I don't believe in a higher power, I simply believe that when I die there is nothing, and it was this thought that saved my life, the fear of death, and whatever was after it. Since that weak I have contemplated suicide a few more times, but I never have considered it as a real option. The depression has stuck with me, and will most likely always be with me I have learned to cope with it tough and it is no longer a problem in my life. The depression was like a sledgehammer hitting me, I hurt made my cry want it all to end, but in the end it broke a way a mask I had put over myself a fake human to reveal my how I am.
This is who I am in a nutshell, and what I believe are the defining aspect of my socialtion, . I wright this to try my best to comprehend the world in a better way, to be able look past the mask someone is wearing, and have sympathy for what struggles they went through. This essay has really opened my eyes it a great many thing I have had to confront demons to get these words onto paper; demons that made me shake uncontrollably till I had to stopped writing, but In the End I slayed the demons for know. Thank to the essay I think I have truly found myself, and I have know brought to the surface how I really am.
As the peace of paper moves silently, shifting through the wind ever bending ever moving it lands softly, but roughly on a desk. The desk of everything. One by one masked creatures start going by like the movement of time they go past nether fast and slow, as they pass they wright they scribble they crumply the tear the make the peace of paper happy, sad, excited, nerves, finally after both a second and a eteraty. They stopped, all crowding around the looked down with a smile, all together they lowered down a mask blank as a unpainted wall, jumping, running, crawling, they moved away and formed a circle, and now for the first time it was quite waiting, waiting until from the peace of paper a creature steps forward, the creature reaches up and pulls of the mask, he is my, and I am him the man from paper”
Project Reflection
Mask Reflection
Bryan Gnehm
Going into the mask project I really did not know what it was going to be like I had heard about it before, and had a general idea of what it was, but I had no idea how far we would take this trip of discovery witch was us learning about the socialization. This year has been quite enjoyable for me so far, and has blurred together in a lot of places making hard for me to really go over what we did in order. To start I believe we began asking question or were asked question through projects like Chinese Born American, and The Meme Project; though different both project had us confront truths, and answer unasked questions. Once are teacher had us thinking he introduced us to the Cycle of Socialization reading which we studied and learned about for the next grouping of days, and had a pronounced impact on us. After this we started looking at gender stereotypes in such documenturys as Miss Representation, and The Mask We Wear both of which are really perspective changing in that they challenge your beliefs. Following us learning about gender stereotypes we began construction of are masks all the while reading more papers like the cycle of socialization. The mostly concluded are learning regarding this topic, and following this was mostly work time on are masks, and essays.
Moving on to the Project it self, and how I belive I was able to truly succeed in what I wanted from this project. I don't exaggerate when I say this was the hardest peace of writing I have ever done, it forced be to challenge demons inside me, open up wounds that had been sewn shut, and to dig up truths long forgotten. During this project at leased for the essay I pushed myself to the brink of a mental break done thanks in part to the subject I tacked in my essay, yet this was not the most effort I could have put out in ideal circumstances; however I think if I was pushed any harder I would have broken. Switching over to my it a completely different story my mask turned out ok looking back now I realize that I abandoned my mask to a life of refinement in favor of working on my essay. It's not that I don't like my mask fall from that I just think that I should have taken the time I had to create another masks, for as you can see my mask in roof around the edges, and sloppily painted it just was not refined. This is also true regarding my essay despite me believing that it's the best piece of writing I have ever produced it was not well refined this is due to how long I it took me to finish writing and revising it. On the last day before exhibition I cut out a hole paragraph because I did not feel I had to time to bring it up to par with the rest of my work. I think this is a good example of how stress this project made my, and how it made me present my best work. Probably the biggest problem I had in this project was with avocation to my teacher there were plenty of time were a could have, and probably should, but I did not. This is because I felt throughout this project that I could do it myself that because of what this project was I had to do it by myself. Over all this project has given a new outlook on a lot of things, and help me grow as a person.
We as humans a constantly growing, changing thanks to what we do and experience; thanks to this project I have grown as a person, writer, and thinker. I have always loved writing, but I have never really been able to express by self through it until this project. This project was so personal for me that it broke done alot of wall that had been impeding my growth, and thanks to the destruction of the walls I have grown as a writer. For instance one of the way I have grown is in my first draft before I would spent way to much time fine tuning a first draft, and just end up rewriting it completely, but no I feel a sort of freedom to just through word on paper to be worried about and fixed another time. As a person in this project I would not say that I grow, but rather changed I what I was was there before but it somehow awaken in this project. I have never before been able to speak that honestly about my depression however what this project did was give me an environment were I was at one point vulnerable enough, and brave enough to put words to my thought. No this sentence which will come next is going to be a bit of topic, but I just want to talk about this paragraph as a hole. I definitely grew during this project in all the way I listed above, but in some ways I am as i'm writing this just giving the right response what want to be heard. Because it is what it expected, and all a can give for I grew in such a way during this project that I can not put pin to paper to tell you how. It did not change be fundamentally, it did not change my beliefs or morals, but I changed me so that I will forever we different ever so much that I caught not tell how I grew, but be able to tell you that I did grow.
Just one last than I would just like to say how much I enjoyed this project, and how it made my excited to come to school.
And one more last than I do not at this time no the in and outs of weebly so I am sorry for how the spacing is so weird on my paper, and reflection.
Bryan Gnehm
Going into the mask project I really did not know what it was going to be like I had heard about it before, and had a general idea of what it was, but I had no idea how far we would take this trip of discovery witch was us learning about the socialization. This year has been quite enjoyable for me so far, and has blurred together in a lot of places making hard for me to really go over what we did in order. To start I believe we began asking question or were asked question through projects like Chinese Born American, and The Meme Project; though different both project had us confront truths, and answer unasked questions. Once are teacher had us thinking he introduced us to the Cycle of Socialization reading which we studied and learned about for the next grouping of days, and had a pronounced impact on us. After this we started looking at gender stereotypes in such documenturys as Miss Representation, and The Mask We Wear both of which are really perspective changing in that they challenge your beliefs. Following us learning about gender stereotypes we began construction of are masks all the while reading more papers like the cycle of socialization. The mostly concluded are learning regarding this topic, and following this was mostly work time on are masks, and essays.
Moving on to the Project it self, and how I belive I was able to truly succeed in what I wanted from this project. I don't exaggerate when I say this was the hardest peace of writing I have ever done, it forced be to challenge demons inside me, open up wounds that had been sewn shut, and to dig up truths long forgotten. During this project at leased for the essay I pushed myself to the brink of a mental break done thanks in part to the subject I tacked in my essay, yet this was not the most effort I could have put out in ideal circumstances; however I think if I was pushed any harder I would have broken. Switching over to my it a completely different story my mask turned out ok looking back now I realize that I abandoned my mask to a life of refinement in favor of working on my essay. It's not that I don't like my mask fall from that I just think that I should have taken the time I had to create another masks, for as you can see my mask in roof around the edges, and sloppily painted it just was not refined. This is also true regarding my essay despite me believing that it's the best piece of writing I have ever produced it was not well refined this is due to how long I it took me to finish writing and revising it. On the last day before exhibition I cut out a hole paragraph because I did not feel I had to time to bring it up to par with the rest of my work. I think this is a good example of how stress this project made my, and how it made me present my best work. Probably the biggest problem I had in this project was with avocation to my teacher there were plenty of time were a could have, and probably should, but I did not. This is because I felt throughout this project that I could do it myself that because of what this project was I had to do it by myself. Over all this project has given a new outlook on a lot of things, and help me grow as a person.
We as humans a constantly growing, changing thanks to what we do and experience; thanks to this project I have grown as a person, writer, and thinker. I have always loved writing, but I have never really been able to express by self through it until this project. This project was so personal for me that it broke done alot of wall that had been impeding my growth, and thanks to the destruction of the walls I have grown as a writer. For instance one of the way I have grown is in my first draft before I would spent way to much time fine tuning a first draft, and just end up rewriting it completely, but no I feel a sort of freedom to just through word on paper to be worried about and fixed another time. As a person in this project I would not say that I grow, but rather changed I what I was was there before but it somehow awaken in this project. I have never before been able to speak that honestly about my depression however what this project did was give me an environment were I was at one point vulnerable enough, and brave enough to put words to my thought. No this sentence which will come next is going to be a bit of topic, but I just want to talk about this paragraph as a hole. I definitely grew during this project in all the way I listed above, but in some ways I am as i'm writing this just giving the right response what want to be heard. Because it is what it expected, and all a can give for I grew in such a way during this project that I can not put pin to paper to tell you how. It did not change be fundamentally, it did not change my beliefs or morals, but I changed me so that I will forever we different ever so much that I caught not tell how I grew, but be able to tell you that I did grow.
Just one last than I would just like to say how much I enjoyed this project, and how it made my excited to come to school.
And one more last than I do not at this time no the in and outs of weebly so I am sorry for how the spacing is so weird on my paper, and reflection.
The Truth of War Project
Explanatory Essay
Warrenpoint Essay
I spend a long time deciding on what I wanted to do for this project; I as a person love learning about history, and I did not want to regret what I choose to do. First I was going to focus my project around how the allies bombed Switzerland during WW2, but I did not feel right about doing something that in the broad sense of history had no effect history. Then I was going to do a project about the Russo-Japanese War, and the rise of Japanese imperialism. However that idea did not sit well with me, so finally, I decided that I wanted to do something on modern-day problems, and terrorism. I wanted to at first show humanity in terrorism while presenting the rest of the world as evil, but I thought that it would not go over well with many people. Figuring that modern-day terrorism was to devisive for what I was planning I decided to go back in time a bit and study the IRA.
Along with that, I wanted to show a moral struggle in a person. Looking back through the history of the IRA I fell into a rabbit hole and ended up learning way more than I thought would come from a project about a 20th-century terrorist group. After climbing out of the rabbit hole, I decided to do my project of one event specifically the IRA double bombing in the Warrenpoint Ambush.
In looking at the overall cause for my event, I found that Irish history in the twentieth century is exceptionally complex, confusing, and controversial. In many ways, Irish history is like a real-life fictional novel with revolutions, sacrifice, last stands, terrorism, heroes, villains, compromise, betrayal, civil war, riots, and murder. To start it is essential to know that tensions between the Irish and British have always been near breaking point thanks to some more extremely complex history, but for the purpose of time and relevance, I will only focus on the 20th-century causes of the Warrenpoint Ambush. On April 24th, 1916 the Irish revolted against the British in hopes of achieving home rule this was the easter rising, and it failed, leading to the British executed the leaders of the revolt. However, this just did more to drive a wedge between the Protestant Pro British groups, and Catholic Pro Free Ireland groups. Inspired by the easter rising Ireland boiled over into a full-on revolution in 1919. After a few years of gorilla fighting a peace treaty was signed which split Ireland into two, Ireland, and North Ireland which comprising of mostly Protestant Pro British peoples who opted to remain as part of the UK. With some unsatisfied with the peace treaty, a civil war erupted in Ireland which ended with a fragile peace. In 1937 Ireland became a republic and was no longer bonded to the UK in any way. As the years dragged on a split begin to widen in North Ireland between the minority Catholics and the majority Protestants which would in 1969 be the primary cause of the beginning of the Troubles. A terrible mark in history marked with hundreds of Religious killings, and bombings all in an attempt to reunite with Ireland. On one side of the conflict was, the Ulster Constabulary, the British army, the British backed terrorist group the Ulster Volunteers and many other smaller armed paramilitary groups. The fought against what was mostly the terrorist group the IRA, or Irish Republican army. Outnumbered, and outgunned the IRA rather than fighting a proper war against their enemy, fought a guerrilla, terrorist campaign, with their goals to in their eyes, liberate North Ireland. This all ended in 1998 with the Good Friday agreement which saw a fragile peace engulf North Ireland. This is the broadest possible overview I can give of these complex events, and I would highly encourage you to do your own research or look at my sources if you want to know more.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Troubles
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61JisaFGHFY
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKneNsy8aF8
http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/august/27/newsid_3891000/3891055.stm
https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/news/republic-of-ireland/smithwick-tribunal-to-examine-bomb-attack-that-killed-18-soldiers-28688347.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/august/27/newsid_2511000/2511545.stm
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKneNsy8aF8
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_Civil_War
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warrenpoint_ambush
As IRA attacks and sectarian killings continued through the troubles, a pattern started to show in the British army. After an IRA attack the British army would set up an incident command point at the scene of attack; after that, they would call for reinforcements, and began an investigation. Using this to there advantage the South Armagh IRA Brigade planted two bombs. The first bomb was a 500-pound fertilizer bomb designed to make a scene and draw the British reinforcements to the scene. From there the second bomb would go off killing the renforments This went exceptionally well for the South Armagh Brigade as the Warrenpoint ambush became the most significant loss of life for the British army through all the troubles.
On August 27th, 1979 a British convoy was driving past Narrow Water Castle when a 500-pound bomb hidden in a lorry on the side of the road went off. The exploitation knocked over one of the British lorry’s killing six troops almost instantly. From here everything went right for the IRA as the British called for reinforcements to take away the wounded and help them establish a Command Point. When a helicopter arrived, and the wounded were loaded up the second bomb went off. This time the weapon was an eight hundred pound fertilizers bomb that when it went of killed 12 British troops including ten men from the Parachute Regiment. The IRA later claimed that they had intentionally targeted the Parachute Regiment in reprisal for Bloody Sunday in which members of the Parachute Regiment gunned down 14 civilians. This proved to be the most successful IRA attack against the British Army despite the helicopter no crashing.
Why is my event is important? In many ways, it is not that important in the broad spectrum of the Troubles. In the short term my event, it was a propaganda victory for the IRA no doubt bringing in many volunteers. It also helped the IRA to gain control of the ground; as British military command deemed it too dangerous to have troops in the countryside, and the British shifted to a much more helicopter focus fighting style. It also helped drive a wedge between the British army and the North Irish Constabulary who after the attack in revenge killed an innocent Catholic man who was not involved with the IRA. In the long run, this wedge would help in the pull out of British troops and the front line combat shifting to the Constabulary more. However, in contributing to these changes, the Warrenpoint Ambush was just part of a larger wave that forces this change to happen.
I decided to write my story in the perspective of a terrorist. For the IRA were terrorists, they targeted civilians with all sorts of bombs, and at one point they even bombed London. However I did this to ask my self, are terrorist bad? From my research, I have for my self decided that terrorist are not inherently evil, and terrorist is just a propaganda word used to discredit a group. A terrorist is defined as:
A person who uses unlawful violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims.
However, this also fits the definition of a rebel.
A person who rises in opposition or armed resistance against an established government or ruler.
Rise in opposition or armed resistance to an established government or ruler.
For as a rebel to rise against an established government in armed resistance it would be in considered unlawful, and any propaganda used by said rebel to shift people to there side could be regarded as intimidation to further your groups politicly. While as far as the targeting of civilians I would point out how the USA and its allies in the past 10 years has killed thousands of civilians with seemingly no thought. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casualties_of_the_Syrian_Civil_War
To conclude I find that terrorist is just a synonym to rebel with a negative spin to it. And for the IRA despite being terrorist and doing terrible things through my research, I have come to the opinion that they were in the right during the troubles despite all the terrible things they did.
I spend a long time deciding on what I wanted to do for this project; I as a person love learning about history, and I did not want to regret what I choose to do. First I was going to focus my project around how the allies bombed Switzerland during WW2, but I did not feel right about doing something that in the broad sense of history had no effect history. Then I was going to do a project about the Russo-Japanese War, and the rise of Japanese imperialism. However that idea did not sit well with me, so finally, I decided that I wanted to do something on modern-day problems, and terrorism. I wanted to at first show humanity in terrorism while presenting the rest of the world as evil, but I thought that it would not go over well with many people. Figuring that modern-day terrorism was to devisive for what I was planning I decided to go back in time a bit and study the IRA.
Along with that, I wanted to show a moral struggle in a person. Looking back through the history of the IRA I fell into a rabbit hole and ended up learning way more than I thought would come from a project about a 20th-century terrorist group. After climbing out of the rabbit hole, I decided to do my project of one event specifically the IRA double bombing in the Warrenpoint Ambush.
In looking at the overall cause for my event, I found that Irish history in the twentieth century is exceptionally complex, confusing, and controversial. In many ways, Irish history is like a real-life fictional novel with revolutions, sacrifice, last stands, terrorism, heroes, villains, compromise, betrayal, civil war, riots, and murder. To start it is essential to know that tensions between the Irish and British have always been near breaking point thanks to some more extremely complex history, but for the purpose of time and relevance, I will only focus on the 20th-century causes of the Warrenpoint Ambush. On April 24th, 1916 the Irish revolted against the British in hopes of achieving home rule this was the easter rising, and it failed, leading to the British executed the leaders of the revolt. However, this just did more to drive a wedge between the Protestant Pro British groups, and Catholic Pro Free Ireland groups. Inspired by the easter rising Ireland boiled over into a full-on revolution in 1919. After a few years of gorilla fighting a peace treaty was signed which split Ireland into two, Ireland, and North Ireland which comprising of mostly Protestant Pro British peoples who opted to remain as part of the UK. With some unsatisfied with the peace treaty, a civil war erupted in Ireland which ended with a fragile peace. In 1937 Ireland became a republic and was no longer bonded to the UK in any way. As the years dragged on a split begin to widen in North Ireland between the minority Catholics and the majority Protestants which would in 1969 be the primary cause of the beginning of the Troubles. A terrible mark in history marked with hundreds of Religious killings, and bombings all in an attempt to reunite with Ireland. On one side of the conflict was, the Ulster Constabulary, the British army, the British backed terrorist group the Ulster Volunteers and many other smaller armed paramilitary groups. The fought against what was mostly the terrorist group the IRA, or Irish Republican army. Outnumbered, and outgunned the IRA rather than fighting a proper war against their enemy, fought a guerrilla, terrorist campaign, with their goals to in their eyes, liberate North Ireland. This all ended in 1998 with the Good Friday agreement which saw a fragile peace engulf North Ireland. This is the broadest possible overview I can give of these complex events, and I would highly encourage you to do your own research or look at my sources if you want to know more.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Troubles
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61JisaFGHFY
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKneNsy8aF8
http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/august/27/newsid_3891000/3891055.stm
https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/news/republic-of-ireland/smithwick-tribunal-to-examine-bomb-attack-that-killed-18-soldiers-28688347.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/august/27/newsid_2511000/2511545.stm
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKneNsy8aF8
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_Civil_War
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warrenpoint_ambush
As IRA attacks and sectarian killings continued through the troubles, a pattern started to show in the British army. After an IRA attack the British army would set up an incident command point at the scene of attack; after that, they would call for reinforcements, and began an investigation. Using this to there advantage the South Armagh IRA Brigade planted two bombs. The first bomb was a 500-pound fertilizer bomb designed to make a scene and draw the British reinforcements to the scene. From there the second bomb would go off killing the renforments This went exceptionally well for the South Armagh Brigade as the Warrenpoint ambush became the most significant loss of life for the British army through all the troubles.
On August 27th, 1979 a British convoy was driving past Narrow Water Castle when a 500-pound bomb hidden in a lorry on the side of the road went off. The exploitation knocked over one of the British lorry’s killing six troops almost instantly. From here everything went right for the IRA as the British called for reinforcements to take away the wounded and help them establish a Command Point. When a helicopter arrived, and the wounded were loaded up the second bomb went off. This time the weapon was an eight hundred pound fertilizers bomb that when it went of killed 12 British troops including ten men from the Parachute Regiment. The IRA later claimed that they had intentionally targeted the Parachute Regiment in reprisal for Bloody Sunday in which members of the Parachute Regiment gunned down 14 civilians. This proved to be the most successful IRA attack against the British Army despite the helicopter no crashing.
Why is my event is important? In many ways, it is not that important in the broad spectrum of the Troubles. In the short term my event, it was a propaganda victory for the IRA no doubt bringing in many volunteers. It also helped the IRA to gain control of the ground; as British military command deemed it too dangerous to have troops in the countryside, and the British shifted to a much more helicopter focus fighting style. It also helped drive a wedge between the British army and the North Irish Constabulary who after the attack in revenge killed an innocent Catholic man who was not involved with the IRA. In the long run, this wedge would help in the pull out of British troops and the front line combat shifting to the Constabulary more. However, in contributing to these changes, the Warrenpoint Ambush was just part of a larger wave that forces this change to happen.
I decided to write my story in the perspective of a terrorist. For the IRA were terrorists, they targeted civilians with all sorts of bombs, and at one point they even bombed London. However I did this to ask my self, are terrorist bad? From my research, I have for my self decided that terrorist are not inherently evil, and terrorist is just a propaganda word used to discredit a group. A terrorist is defined as:
A person who uses unlawful violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims.
However, this also fits the definition of a rebel.
A person who rises in opposition or armed resistance against an established government or ruler.
Rise in opposition or armed resistance to an established government or ruler.
For as a rebel to rise against an established government in armed resistance it would be in considered unlawful, and any propaganda used by said rebel to shift people to there side could be regarded as intimidation to further your groups politicly. While as far as the targeting of civilians I would point out how the USA and its allies in the past 10 years has killed thousands of civilians with seemingly no thought. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casualties_of_the_Syrian_Civil_War
To conclude I find that terrorist is just a synonym to rebel with a negative spin to it. And for the IRA despite being terrorist and doing terrible things through my research, I have come to the opinion that they were in the right during the troubles despite all the terrible things they did.
IRA Story
“Joe they are coming, 5 minutes off” Connor whispered as he jogged back into the tree line rifle in hand.
“Good are the bombs in place?”
“Yes, the first is primed and ready, and the second is likewise ready.”
Nodding in recognition, Joe slung his rifle over his shoulder, and stood up “Listen” he said in a tone which commanded total respect. “Today we strike again out against the invaders, today we kill as many of them as possible, today we take revenge for the bloody Sunday, for all those killed in Derry, the Belfast bombing, and all those killed for being Irish!” Glancing down the road, and past the castle, which stood silence like a beacon of old. Turning back Joe continued “We do this for all those killed by the Brits, we do this in the hope of driving them out of our country!” Pausing again as war cries rang from everyone'’s lips Joe once more glanced down the road. “They call us terrorists because we defend our own, they call us monsters because we kill civilians, but how many have they killed, how long have they terrorized us, so I say if they brand us terrorist then let's' be terrorist lets bomb and kill all the way to London!!
With his speech concluded Joe took up his position rifle ready to fire. Time dragged on, seeming years, days, all gone before Connor could blink. Any second some unfortunate brits would have their lives taken. Bringing himself back Connor turned over onto his back. Letting out a deep breath he looked upward at the beautiful green of the trees above him. The bright sun of summer shining through the outstretched branches heating his face. Smiling at the beauty that could be found so easily in nature his breath caught shivers ran through him he heard… something… wind... tires...NO. Sitting up his eyes widened as they were immediately drawn to the castle in all its glory. Looking deep into the shadows cast by the walls and parapets he felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. Whipping around he heard the noise betting now, whispering. Razing his rifle he pulled the trigger, nothing his gun had jammed. Reloading he brought his rifle up to bare again. “No, no, no!” His hands shaking he fumbled the gun dropping it to the leaf-covered ground below him. Scrambling to pick it up he retook aim at the whispers of the forest. Seeing a hand on his gun, he turned to see Joe’s angry face.
“What the hell are you doing! You will give away our position!” Whispered Joe in a Scolding, anger.
“No, they are behind us, I HEARD THEM!, behind us! they will kill us all.”
Fear flooding his face driving out the anger Joe barked “There behind us! Turn and face” Movement shattered forth breaking the quite, peaceful soon to be an ambush. “Dermot move forward to try to spot them! Bryan keep your eyes on the road! Connor, Seamus, Enda move up there” he gestured with his hand. “Hold your fire they still might not know we are here. Everyone else take cover!”
Breathing hard trying not to shake with anticipation fear started to flood his mind. Once before he had been in combat, once before he had shot and tried to kill, but that had been in defense, to protect Ava. Now, what were they doing, they were not defending anyone, but waiting like cowardly dogs to kill for no other reason, but to kill. A Wave of cold washed of Connor as he laid there in the dirt, and the mud, under cover of trees. Shifting positions, he felt dread, total and complete dread it engulfed him. No, he did not want to be here not now. He was about to be responsible for the deaths of so many, but there were the brits he hated the Brits… didn't he. Over the silence, and dread came a sound soft, rumbling.
Lifting his hand, Bryan whispered, “They are coming I see two lorries and a land rover.”
“Time till the pass Connor’’s bomb” Joe whispered back never taking his eyes away from the threat hidden deep in the forest.”
“45-30 seconds.”
“Dam, they are quick” Flipping himself over Joe moved behind a tree overviewing the road, detonator in hand.”
Pulling his gun to his chest, Connor let out a faint moan before sitting up back against a tree. Catching sight of the Lorries a feeling a silence seemed to engulf to the valley, nothing moved, nothing breathed, everything was waiting for the death that would splatter blood, tear limbs, widow wives, all to sate the blood-hungry beast with is humanity. Noise from the forest came to him now not noise there was before, but a new one, one he had heard before. He listed quiet as a mouse to the voices of his mom, his dad, Ava. Happiness came over him immediately snuffed out. There was no noise he did not hear anything it was quite; apart from the lorries moving toward there death. Yet he still could listen to them, all of them talking just quite enough that he could not make out their words, but they were talking he was sure of it.
Then the world exploded, Connor felt his eardrums raging in anguish. He saw fire burst up into the sky, he heard cries of wondered and dying men, he heard the whispers stop, but the cries did not stop instead they rent the air burrowing there way inside him. Stumbling forward mind blank he fell beside Joe, who had a look of such sadness on his face it looked fake. Seeing Connor come up beside him Joe smiled sadly “We got em”
With a stuttering voice distorted by what had just happened Connor responded “What… what now?”
“Now… now we wait.”
Looking forward Connor felt… nothing… everything had left him. He had no emotion just acceptance, he only saw that there was that was it. He saw the dark blue sky scattered with clouds, he saw the castle standing like a guardian of old not moving, he saw the lorry on its side smoke billowing up, he saw the brits scattered like ants running about, he saw an arm lying there in a bloody puddle, he saw the road paved into the ground, he saw everything, and nothing. The pain, the suffering, the hate, all of this he saw, without feeling, without processing. Distantly from what could have been another planet he heard a soft voice behind him.
“Sir, there is no one in the forest, at least I could not find any sign of anyone.”
“Ok, good job.”
The words did not register with Connor, they did not mean anything to him; instead, they just passed through him like a knife through butter. Everything meant nothing, he was just there in existence, a grain of sand in the ever-flowing desert. He felt something on his shudder shaking him.
“Connor t’s time to go.”
He heard the words, but they did not register. Instead, he just continued to stare off into the abyss of nothing, and everything before him, void of emotion, movement, feeling, or awareness.
“Connor, come on we got to go!”
Tilting his head he saw movement in the sky, what was it? He thought all the while ignoring Joe.
“CONNOR, they are going to send out patrols soon, and if they do they will find and kill us!”
To himself, Connor started mumbling in a tone of peace, and acceptance. Slowing he smiled and turned to Joe.
“The world hath conquered, the wind
hath scattered like dust
Alexander, Caesar, and all that shared
Sway.
Tara is grass, and behold how Troy
lieth low --
And even the English, perchance their
hour will come!”
(Published in Poems of the Irish Revolutionary Brotherhood, Small, Maynard and Company, Boston, 1916.)
“But my friend I will not be there to see that day.”
“Connor come on we got to go.”
“You're not understanding me, I am going to stay here.”
“What? Why the hell would you do that!?”
“I don't want to kill.”
Joe pulled back confused “But Connor you do remember killing that loyalist in Derry? don't you?”
“Yes, but that was different; see before I was defending Ava, and my family” A look of sadness crossed Connor's face as he looked back down the road, back to the cries of pain and death. Jestering at would he saw Connor continued “Now we are just killing for no other reason but to kill.”
“But, there the brits? They kill us too.”
“But why do they kill us… because we kill them, and why do we kill them… because they kill us.”
“Connor stop in we got to go now!”
“Joe I am sorry, but NO! I am staying here no go before they find you.”
Crouching, and breaking eye contact with Connor Joe scuttled back farther into the tree cover. He Could see the tears in Connors' eyes as he went. Whispering, and looking back regretfully Joe ordered the men to move out.
“You hit this button when you think best.”
“No! I don't kill any more.”
“Hit it when you think best, I will miss you brother” And with that Connor was alone, but for the brits, and his own thoughts.
Waiting now, he felt himself start to get bored. He was no longer at peace no longer, without emotion. Instead, he felt fear. The fear flooded him into him like a dam breaking and pouring water into ever craving in an exposed valley. Shaking Connor tried to pull himself together.
Landing across the road, troops started pouring out of a helicopter. Shouting ensued as the wondered and dead were loaded up. Connor's heart beating fast the aircraft took off climbing into the air faster then he would have thought possible. He looked down into his hand where he still held the trigger. “No, I won't!” But he did not let go his finger still hovering over detonator. With a great deal of effort, Connor peeled his fingers of the device, and let it drop to the ground. Bouncing off a rock the detonator spun in the air before striking a root and setting off the explosion. Fire ripped through the air tearing people apart killing many. He had down it; he had not wanted to, but he had just killed so many more. In total and complete shock Connor just sat there not knowing what to do. “What do I do,” he thought in anguish before it came to him “I die, I die for what I have done.” Acceptance filling his body he looking down at what he had done he began singing all the while preparing his rifle.
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No fife did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its dred tattoo
But the Angelus bells o'er the iffey'’s swell
Rang out through the foggy dew
Raising his voice, he aimed into his head shaking all the while. No! He stopped it was to much for him to kill himself he would let the Brits do it.
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out the flag of war
‘Twas better to die ‘neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through
While Brittania’s huns with their long-range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew
The Brits started taking notice and slowly, lathagicly begun to take action. It did not matter his gun was aimed and ready. BANG! Went his gun kicking back into his shoulder. It missed the bullet slamming into the bottom of the overturned alorrie. As he had intended.
‘Twas Brittania bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free
But their lonely graves are by uvla's waves
On the shore of the gray North Sea
But had they died by earse'’s side
Or fought with Cathal Brugha
Their names we would keep where the Fenians sleep
‘Neath the shroud of the foggy dew
Hearing gunshots flying in his direction Connor reloaded and aimed again, and BANG! A brit slammed into the ground the bullet had caught him in the leg. Not a kill shot, but it would hurt for a while. Singing as loud as he could now he began reloading again.
But the bravest fell, and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of the year
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those fearless men, but few
Who bore the fight that freedom'’s light
Might shine through the foggy…
Foggy Dew by The Dubliners
A bullet ripped through his hat breaking through his skull killing him instantly.
Project Reflection
In all honesty I, and without any sugar coating, not satisfied with the project and unit as a whole. I love history and when this unit was announced I was very excited, but as the project and unit got under way I quickly found my interest starting to fade. I think one of the main reasons for this was the build up to the project. At first we studied WW1 or to be prosaic the beginning of WW1 until all of a sudden we shifted completely. It soon became almost a joke in that nothing we did seemed to matter, and we had many unfinished projects for intense, WW1 weapon project witch I finished but was never graded or turned in, a word comprehension test which I studied for only to have it never happen, a project about a single ww1-2 weapon which I did and am proud of but was never graded or turned it in, All Quite on the Western Front which we never finished, and we had WW1 left on a cliff hanger we learned all about the build up and start then nothing else. I also felt like during the project it was to loose in a way we had like five weak to work on what should have been a 2 weak project, but it still felt rushed and unrefined as a project being assigned. Because of this we that is the class would spend multiple class periods doing something we were not supposed to do. I do believe that this was us the students fault and I do take responsibility for everything I did instead of work, and the lack of effort needed (in that we did not have to spend all of class working to make a good project). However I also think that there was overall a lack of engagement brought forward by are teacher.
As far as my project goes I think that I gained the information and knowledge which I was longing for, and I have created a project that I am truly proud of, and believe to be one of my best works. As far as one of my goals, I failed miserably in a good way. I set out to create a true war story with a "human" protagonist experiencing war in a human way. I you have read my peace it is obvious that my character has allot of mood shifts and is generally not "human" this is because I took a complicated charter I created and had to condense it into several pages. If I could have I would have spend months on this pease and developing a "human" character, but i did not have months and I still like the story despite it's lack of "human." Moving to the essay I found it really really hard to get started. This is not normal for me as am a fast righter and can generate essays very quickly, but there was just something about this one the just dragged me down. I would right a paragraph then delete it, and do this again and again, and again till finally I was able get something down and from there I build on top of it until I had my essay. With the final work being something I now I could improve upon, but that I still find to for me be a good peace of weighting.
As far as my project goes I think that I gained the information and knowledge which I was longing for, and I have created a project that I am truly proud of, and believe to be one of my best works. As far as one of my goals, I failed miserably in a good way. I set out to create a true war story with a "human" protagonist experiencing war in a human way. I you have read my peace it is obvious that my character has allot of mood shifts and is generally not "human" this is because I took a complicated charter I created and had to condense it into several pages. If I could have I would have spend months on this pease and developing a "human" character, but i did not have months and I still like the story despite it's lack of "human." Moving to the essay I found it really really hard to get started. This is not normal for me as am a fast righter and can generate essays very quickly, but there was just something about this one the just dragged me down. I would right a paragraph then delete it, and do this again and again, and again till finally I was able get something down and from there I build on top of it until I had my essay. With the final work being something I now I could improve upon, but that I still find to for me be a good peace of weighting.