Monday, November 28, 2011

I don't think I will ever talk about the death penalty again...

Please let me know ASAP what weaknesses there are in the piece. Thank you guys so much! (Sorry about the weird formating. The "Tab" for paragraphs doesn't quite show up once I copy and paste the essay onto blogger)

Open Eyes

To have one’s name on that list is a nightmare in itself. This list- a never-ending file- paralyzes a man once the pounding gavel inscribes his name onto the page.
When Fate examines this list, it approaches each name like a ghost; those etchings on the page cower before the ominous shadow that lingers above their heads. These souls pray and beg for Fate to pass over their name.
But deaf to their desperate pleas, Fate crosses off each item one by one, preying upon the remaining victims as they wince in rhythm to the scaring of the parchment.

The death penalty has existed in every form of government ever since a people developed into a civilization. For hundreds of years, society, regardless of culture, has used the death penalty as the “ultimate punishment.” Any individual on the death row dreads the idea of experiencing this sentence; it is a nightmare that pries open their soul.
Over the years, society has adopted this horrendous form of punishment as a part of their judicial systems. In most judicial settings, the death penalty brings forth a closure to any debatable case. It is a sentence that, regardless of the scenario, fulfills the satisfying punishment: death.  In a criminal investigation, the death penalty provides a sense of peace for the victim and his family; this sentence would forever silence the convicted criminal, and life would be at harmony once more.  
But what if a court thrust such a conviction towards the wrong man?
When a judicial system investigates a criminal case, it seeks to locate every ounce of truth that could uncover the facts within this mystery. In modern-day courts, these truths are unearthed through the use of technology. Criminal investigations utilize technology as a key to unlocking pieces of evidence. Evidence- whether large or small- is used as a force to influence the sentence that precedes the pounding gavel. Because technology has become a part of the judicial process, courts rely upon the evidence produced by current mechanisms to construct their decisions. The technology that produces evidence has the power to sentence a man even to the harshest of punishments; it is with these pieces of evidence that deliver a man- whether innocent or guilty- to the death row.
However, how reliable are the technologies used in a criminal investigation?
In 1983, Kenneth “Kenny” Waters “was convicted [of a] 1980 murder…in his hometown of Ayer, Massachusetts.” (Perez) His conviction was based on witness testimonies “and on the blood type found at the crime scene.” (Perez) The Massachusetts State found Waters guilty, and they sentenced him to life in prison.
However, Betty Anne Waters, Waters’ younger sister, fought for her brother’s innocence. As her brother’s attorney, Betty Anne searched for and located blood sample evidence from her brother’s trial. In the late 1980s, DNA testing was introduced as a breakthrough in criminal investigation. Since this new innovation proved effective, Betty Anne persuaded the court to DNA test the samples of blood evidence against samples from her brother.
The result: the samples did not match.
Because of this small piece of evidence, Kenny Waters was exonerated and later released in 2001. (Perez)
If Massachusetts had allowed the death penalty, the court would have executed Kenny Waters long before it acquired the technology to uncover this life-saving information. He would have died in vain if technology had not produced a breakthrough innovation. But in many other criminal investigation cases, there is no “if.” Hundreds of courts throughout the United States have executed convicted suspects. But when science developed new technology, courts realized that, after reinvestigating these cases, they had sentenced the wrong man to death.
Although contemporary society has developed the most advanced technologies, courts, even in modern times, have made these similar blunders. Over the last century in the U.S., at least fifty executions were proven to be false convictions. (Turow) The judicial system may even continue to make these horrid mistakes in the future. When a court investigates a criminal case, it cannot depend upon even the most trust-worthy technologies to produce the “definite” evidence of the case.  Modern technology is highly advanced, but it is an art that continues to develop day by day; science may always uncover a breakthrough that could alter the methods of criminal investigation. In situations involving the death penalty, a single piece of unfound evidence could save a life. Nevertheless, the technology used to uncover this evidence may lie just a few years away.     
If a court wished to sentence a man to death, they could easily do so with the power of evidence. However, the reasons for a death sentence stretch far beyond the physical proof; it is the purpose of the death penalty that drives forth the sentence.
When the death penalty was established in the United States in the 1600s, the idea behind this sentence was for society to punish a convicted suspect for his or her actions. (Green) However, the true purpose of the death sentence expands far beyond this single idea. The death penalty is not only a punishment for the convicted criminal, but it is also a warning to others of the dire consequences for criminal actions. Yet, this warning has presented no effectiveness.
In the United States, the death penalty created a minute decrease in murder rates among the nationwide population. However, it did not influence a significant deterrence in the overall homicide rates in the U.S. In fact, when compared to states without the death penalty, “the majority of death penalty states [presented] murder rates higher than non-death penalty states.” (“Deterrence…”)
If statistics show that the death penalty falls short of its purpose, then why does the judicial system continue to allow such a horrendous punishment? What does this reflect about the U.S. judicial system?
In the judicial system, the death penalty reveals a contradictory mentality of the purpose of a court. By inflicting a death sentence upon an individual, a court no longer represents a civilized system. Instead it resembles a barbaric, ravenous government: “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”
The death penalty is an extremely violent sentence, both physically and mentally. In the United States, and even around the world, convicted individuals may be executed through lethal injection, electrocution, lethal gas, hanging, and even firing squad. (“Methods of…”) It is an irreversible penalty that shreds apart any individual’s sanity and soul. Whenever a court sentences a man to such a penalty, it is responding to a case with greater violence and terror. To commit a crime is horrifying enough. But to create greater pain as a solution is unimaginable: justice lies not within this form of sentence; instead, it is hatred and revenge.
Whenever a court sentences a man to death, it does not only inflict searing agony upon an individual; it boils an entire family alongside of this human being as well.  A single execution does not silence just one soul. Instead, it slashes apart hearts who mourn for a loved one, and it engulfs their world with an unsettling shadow.
For thirteen years, a father fought for his son’s innocence. His twenty-one year-old son, Chiang Kuo-ching, was convicted of murder in 1997. Later that year, the Taiwanese military firing squad executed Chiang, who was an air force baseman.
In his last letter to his father, Chiang insisted that he was an innocent man; his father took those words to heart. Thirteen years following the execution, Chiang’s father pursued in the fight towards clearing his son’s name. After years of persistence, the Taiwanese court reinvestigated the case in 2011. Within only a few weeks of examination, military investigators retrieved the truth: Chiang was innocent.
But his father never heard this revelation.
He had died the year before in 2010, stating with his last breath that his son was an innocent man. (“Officials…”)
Chiang Kuo-ching’s father will never be able to hear the reassuring words: “Your son is innocent.” Like this father, thousands of other individuals may never receive that comforting statement. They may never know that their loved one died in vain, and they will never sleep another night with peace and comfort.
Even if an apology is offered to these wounded human beings, it is not the apology they want in return. What they wish for is the loved one whom the death penalty snatched away from their pleading hands, disappearing into the abyss with that one, lonely soul.

If Fate had crossed off and executed the wrong name, those remaining victims could only weep with misery.    
Even if they rush to awake him from an eternal slumber, their hopeless cries would fade away as mere, ghostly whispers. Their tears of desperation would only collapse upon his numb cheeks like beads of steel, and their anxious hands would warm not a pigment of his cold flesh.
And even if they tried, this name would just stare into the distance with those empty, open eyes, seeking for that moment in which he could, alas, rest in peace.   

Is this better?

There are some weird marks in the paper, but those are reminders that I'm going to look over later. It is still choppy, but please inform me of any "weird" places. Thanks!
P.S. Do I need another sentence where the * is?

     To have one’s name on that list is a nightmare in itself. This list- a never-ending file- paralyzes a man once the pounding gavel inscribes his name onto the page.
     When Fate examines this list, it approaches each name like a ghost; those etchings on the page cower before the ominous shadow that lingers above their heads. These souls pray and beg for Fate to pass over their name.
    But deaf to their desperate pleas, Fate crosses off each item one by one, preying upon the remaining victims as they wince in rhythm to the scaring of the parchment.

     The death penalty has existed in every form of government ever since a people developed into a civilization. For hundreds of years, society, regardless of culture, has used the death penalty as the “ultimate punishment.” Any individual on the death row dreads the idea of experiencing this sentence; it is a nightmare that pries open their soul.
     Over the years, society has adopted this horrendous form of punishment as a part of their judicial systems. In most judicial settings, the death penalty brings forth a closure to any debatable case. It is a sentence that, regardless of the scenario, fulfills the satisfying punishment: death.  In a criminal investigation, the death penalty provides a sense of peace for the victim and his family; this sentence would forever silence the convicted criminal, and life would be at harmony once more.  
     But what if a court thrust such a conviction towards the wrong man?
When a judicial system investigates a criminal case, it seeks to locate every ounce of truth that could uncover the facts within a mystery. In modern-day courts, these truths are unearthed through the use of technology. Criminal investigations utilize technology as a key to unlocking pieces of evidence. Evidence- whether large or small- is used as a force to influence the sentence that precedes the pounding gavel. Because technology has become a part of the judicial process, courts rely upon the evidence produced by current mechanisms to construct their decisions. The technology that produces evidence has the power to sentence a man even to the harshest punishments; it is with these pieces of evidence that deliver a man- whether innocent or guilty- to the death row.
     However, how reliable are these technologies that society considers modern?
      In 1983, Kenneth “Kenny” Waters “was convicted [of a] 1980 murder…in his hometown of Ayer, Massachusetts.” (Perez) His conviction was based on witness testimonies “and on the blood type found at the crime scene.” (Perez) The Massachusetts State found Waters guilty, and they sentenced him to life in prison.
     However, Betty Anne Waters, Waters’ younger sister, fought for her brother’s innocence. As her brother’s attorney, Betty Anne searched for and located blood sample evidence from her brother’s trial. In the late 1980s, DNA testing was introduced as a breakthrough in criminal investigation. Since this new innovation proved effective, Betty Anne persuaded the court to DNA test the samples of blood evidence against samples from her brother.
     The result: the samples did not match.
     Because of this small piece of evidence, Kenny Waters was exonerated and later released in 2001. (Perez)
     If Massachusetts had held the death penalty, the court would have executed Kenny Waters long before it acquired the technology to correctly examine the case. He would have died in vain if technology had not produced a breakthrough innovation. But in many other criminal investigation cases, there is no “if.” Hundreds of courts throughout the United States executed convicted suspects. But when science developed new technology, courts realized that, after reinvestigating these cases, they had sentenced the wrong man to death.
     Although contemporary society has developed the most advanced technologies, courts have made these similar blunders even in modern times. (Turow) The judicial system may even continue to make these horrid mistakes in the future. When a court investigates a criminal case, they cannot entirely rely upon even the most trust-worthy technologies to produce the “definite” evidence of the case.  Modern technology is highly advanced, but it is an art that continues to develop day by day; science may always uncover a breakthrough that could alter the methods of criminal investigation.  * In situations involving the death penalty, there is always a single piece of evidence that could save a life. However, the technology used to uncover this confirmation may be miles away.     

Sunday, November 27, 2011

FC Draft 3

It's a little blurry, but are there slow parts in the piece (I have a feeling that there are quite a few....)?

To have one’s name on that list is a nightmare in itself. This list- a never-ending file- paralyzes a man once the pounding gavel inscribes his name onto the page.
When Fate examines this list, it approaches each name like a ghost; those etchings on the page cower before the ominous shadow that lingers above their heads. These souls pray and beg for Fate to pass over their name.
But deaf to their desperate pleas, Fate crosses off each item one by one, preying upon the remaining victims as they wince in rhythm to the scaring of the parchment.

The death penalty has existed in every form of government ever since a people developed into a civilization. For hundreds of years, society, regardless of culture, has used the death penalty as the “ultimate punishment.” Any individual on the death row dreads the idea of experiencing this sentence; it is a nightmare that pries open their soul.
Over the years, society has adopted this horrendous form of punishment as a part of their judicial systems. In most judicial settings, the death penalty brings forth a closure to any debatable case. It is a sentence that, regardless of the scenario, fulfills the satisfying punishment: death.  In a criminal investigation, the death penalty provides a sense of peace for the victim and his family; the convicted criminal would be forever silenced, and life could carry on with comfort and relief.
But what if such a conviction was thrust towards the wrong man?
 In 1983, Kenneth “Kenny” Waters “was convicted [of a] 1980 murder of a neighbor…in his hometown of Ayer, Massachusetts.” (Perez) His conviction was based on the testimonies “of two former girlfriends who said [that] Waters confessed to the murder and on the blood type found at the crime scene.” (Perez) Because Massachusetts did not have the death penalty, Waters was sentenced to life in prison.
However, Betty Anne Waters, Waters’ younger sister, fought for her brother’s innocence. After attending law school to become her brother’s attorney, Betty Anne searched for and located blood sample evidence from her brother’s trial. In the late 1980s, DNA testing became a major component of criminal investigation. Since this new innovation proved effective, Betty Anne persuaded the court to DNA test the samples of blood evidence against samples from her brother.
The result: the samples did not match.
Because of this small piece of evidence, Kenny Waters was exonerated and later released in 2001 after eighteen years in prison. (Perez)
Waters was one of many individuals who were saved through the innovation of DNA testing. Because of developing technology, Waters was able to walk out of that prison as a free man. As technology has grown over the years, it has enabled judicial systems to avoid false judgments, such as those made in the Waters Case. New technical knowledge has allowed courts to expand upon their understanding of debatable issues. As a result, courts are now capable of finding those missing pieces to complete those unsolved, mysterious puzzles.
Although society has developed and improved technology, judicial settings cannot rely upon these present innovations alone; there is a possibility that any case- whether of the past or present- continues to lack a vital piece of the puzzle.
Because technology has become a part of the judicial process, courts rely upon the evidence produced by current mechanisms- and upon these mechanisms alone- to construct a decision. However, the technology used to gather these pieces of evidence may always be a step behind in producing the truth of any case.
When Waters was convicted of murder, criminal investigation had not yet developed the method of DNA testing. But in the following years, technology developed to the extent in which science saved his life and released hundreds of others from imprisonment and the death penalty. Yes, technology is highly advanced, but it is an art that continues to develop day by day; each new minute of discovery provides an entire decade with breakthrough innovations. There is always a single piece of evidence that could save a life, but the technology used to uncover this confirmation may be miles away.

FC Draft 2

I have some more paragraphs, but I still need to look them over. Do these paragraphs make sense?

To have one’s name on that list is a nightmare in itself. This list- a never-ending file- paralyzes a man once the pounding gavel inscribes his name onto the page.
When Fate examines this list, it approaches each name like a ghost; those etchings on the page cower before the ominous shadow that lingers above their heads. These souls pray and beg for Fate to pass over their name.
But deaf to their desperate pleas, Fate crosses off each item one by one, preying upon the remaining victims as they wince in rhythm to the scaring of the parchment.

The death penalty has existed in every form of government ever since a people developed into a civilization. For hundreds of years, society, regardless of culture, has used the death penalty as the “ultimate punishment.” Any individual on the death row dreads the idea of experiencing this sentence; it is a nightmare that pries open their soul.
Over the years, society has adopted this horrendous form of punishment as a part of their judicial systems. In most judicial settings, the death penalty brings forth a closure to any debatable case. It is a sentence that, regardless of the scenario, fulfills the satisfying punishment: death.  In a criminal investigation, the death penalty provides a sense of peace for the victim and his family; the convicted criminal would be forever silenced, and life could carry on with comfort and relief.
But what if such a conviction was thrust towards the wrong man?

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Possible Beginning...

Is this beginning catchy enough? Does it flow to some degree?
It might not make sense, but I'll edit it later.


To have one’s name on that list is a nightmare in itself. This list- a never-ending file- paralyzes a man once the pounding gavel inscribes his name onto the page.
When Fate examines this list, it approaches each name like a ghost; those etchings on the page cower before the ominous shadow that lingers above their heads. These souls pray and beg for Fate to pass over their name.
             But deaf to their desperate pleas, Fate crosses off each item one by one, preying upon the remaining victims as they wince in rhythm to the scaring of the parchment.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Writer's block. It's killing me.

Are these beginning sentences okay? I have played around with so many beginnings that I am starting to lose my sanity (I have all of my ideas set, but the beginning is making it really difficult "kick off" the piece..).

The pound of a gavel can deliver any man to his grave. Its echoing crack can shoot through his soul, and its haunting pitch can silence his world for a moment in time.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

PoL Draft 2

Hey guys! I edited some passive sentences, and I restated some sentences (which I hope will make the piece more fluent). May you guys please let me know if the organization/ideas are strong enough, if the flow the of the piece is fluent (please inform me about any "slow" parts), and if the ending ("Without these..") is not too abrupt. Thanks!
P.S. Does the title tie the piece together? (I'm trying to find a better title)


Just Keep Practicing

I peered over my grandfather’s shoulder, attempting to catch a glance at the brush that hovered over the paper. Its black-stained hairs glistened as it lowered onto the surface of the white sheet, flowing across the page with hypnotic movements.
Stroke one. Grand jeté. Stroke two. The brush sashays. Stroke three. Dip. Stroke four. Sway.
            “What does that mean?”
            Shui.” Water.
            “Why does that word look so funny?”
            “Each stroke used to be drawn as curves- like the currents in a river. Now, we just write the character like this.”
            “Oh…” I tilted my six-year-old head. “Can you teach me how to write that?”

Written Mandarin, like any artistic masterpiece, is an art that requires the time, patience, and diligence to master. Every written character involves great attentiveness and care; each radical and stroke of every word reflects the refined pigments in a painting. Not only has written Mandarin become an art, but it has also evolved into a thread that, over time, has sewn the multiple East Asian cultures together. This centuries-old written language represents the cultures that have composed the heritage of a people, and it has even carved a cultural identity and history for nations of distinct yet similar traditions.
However, what happens when a heritage within this massive culture tatters the thread- the connection- that binds a people to its beginnings and identity?
In 1949, when China underwent its infamous Cultural Revolution, “the cultural officials within the [Chinese] Cultural Party’s bureaucracy set out to simplify radically the way Chinese was written.” (Gargan) Throughout this “simplification” process, the Chinese government began to reform traditional Mandarin characters. China’s Cultural Party reduced the number of strokes in writing complex traditional characters, and they altered the traditional writing system through this iconoclastic movement. This new written “language,” as a result, now represents the official written language of mainland China.
The intention behind this particular movement was to increase literacy within the Chinese population. In achieving “total adult literacy [, however,] meant that characters…needed to be redesigned with fewer strokes so they would be easier to remember and write.” (Gargan) But in doing so, the simplification of Mandarin has compromised the depth and soul of this traditional written language.   
 Traditional Mandarin originated as a written communication through pictographs and ideographs. Mandarin was at first a language of pure illustrations: the word “mountain” would look like a mountain; the word “man” would look like a man. These pictures or basic symbols later composed the thousands of ideographs within this written communication. (Peterson)
Take the word lin (), or “forest,” for example. This character is based upon the word mu (), or “wood.” Forest, in the most basic definition, is an area filled with trees. Lin was formed by writing two “wood” or “trees” together; thus, the character “forest” illustrates the definition of “multiple trees.” Thousands of traditional characters bloomed from this simple idea of placing different characters or radicals, each with their own distinct meaning, together to produce a word that expresses a larger and more complex idea. (Peterson)
When simplified Mandarin transitioned into society in the 1950s and1960s, its new writing practices buried these long-settled ideas of the language. (Peterson 108) As cultural officials have broadened the use of simplified Mandarin, they have created a whole new written language- a communication barely comparable to its traditional style. Through traditional characters, one could decipher the distinct meanings by evaluating each and every detailed stroke and radical. On the other hand, no correlation exists between the simplified characters and the origin of the actual words.
 Simplified Mandarin is not the only evolution from an original language; traditional Mandarin was a transformation as well. Ancient scholars had actually simplified the written Mandarin language to form the current and familiar traditional form. The Asian culture, over the centuries, reduced their original pictographs and ideographs into strokes and characters to form this traditional writing style.
But if past generations had already simplified written Mandarin, then why shouldn’t modern culture proceed with a further “abridged” version of this language?
The reason: the purpose behind the simplification.
The current traditional Mandarin evolved from a basic simplification of drawings; past generations transformed these detailed depictions into strokes so that the process of writing would not be a tedious procedure of drawings. These ancient scholars wished to maintain the origin of the word- they did not stray from the roots of these characters. Political purposes, however, fueled the founding of simplified Mandarin: “…language reform was a technical undertaking entrusted to skilled professionals, but the rationale and objectives were always deeply political.” (Peterson 108) The founders of the Communist Cultural Party did not purely seek to “ease” the burden of learning and writing Mandarin characters. Instead they intended to spread their political influence- their Cultural Revolution- by igniting this miniscule yet hazardous match.
In cultivating their new “culture,” the Chinese government has educated their citizens through simplified Mandarin. Thousands of students and adults, even beyond mainland China, have been taught the language through simplified writing.
Teaching simplified Mandarin, however, is like teaching the English language through “texting language.” When English is taught to students, the structure and form of the written communication is emphasized as the basis of this language education.  If taught properly, a student would have the ability to learn and construct simple phrases, such as “I have to go. I am going to be late.” However, if they are taught the simplified “texting language,” these students would be unaware of the foundations of this communication. As a result, their knowledge of this language would be vague and imprecise: I gtg. I’m gonna b L8.
Supporters of simplified Mandarin contest that this version of the language is much easier write: ““Traditional Mandarin? Why must we learn that written language? Simplified Mandarin is easy enough- it’s simplified!”
Although simplified Mandarin is easier to write, traditional is easier to learn. Traditional characters offer a greater number of indicators of word definitions and origins; their radicals and other symbols serve as pieces to a language “puzzle.” By learning traditional Mandarin, students would develop a deeper familiarity with these characters. In the end, their well-developed retention of these characters would allow the process of writing traditional words to be just as easy. Simplified Mandarin does not possess the in-depth qualities that enrich the learning of this language. In fact, simplified Mandarin “may actually retard character recognition by eliminating culture cues that formerly may have aided recognition and by reducing the distinctiveness of individual characters.” (Peterson 108)
It is inevitable, however, to avoid simplified Mandarin. This form of written language has proliferated to almost every country within the past decades; even the United Nations uses simplified Mandarin! (“United Nations…”)  Although it has become the most popular form of written Mandarin, simplified Mandarin must not compose the face of this ancient language.
China’s 1950s-1960s Cultural Revolution is not East Asia’s cultural revolution. A large portion of the Asian culture has already established traditional writing as their main communication between the different Asian countries. Taiwan, Macau, Hong Kong, and Korea- to name a few- are countries that have centered their cultural language around traditional Mandarin. Even though their native spoken and written languages differ, these countries are able to read and recognize these traditional characters. These simple yet distinct words have transformed into the complex bonds and threads that represent the entity of the Asian cultural heritage.
Without these ancient roots, the antique voices of the Asian culture can no longer speak, no longer live. Without these ancient roots, a people will wither away.
Their leaves will rust, their bark will shred, and, alas, their branches will fall.

“Why can’t I write this correctly? It looks so ugly!” The word looked so strange, so distorted.
The brush slammed against the white sheet.
“You need to practice. If you keep practicing, writing this word will become easier. I have written Mandarin for my whole life. You are just starting.”
“Still… I won’t be able to write as pretty as you do…”
“Just keep practicing.”

Grand jeté. Sashay. Dip. Sway. Grand jeté. Sashay…

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Quick Question...

Do I need the bold sentence? I think that I may not need this sentence here (to allow readers to find out the answer), but is this sentence needed? The bold sentence sounds a little awkward, too...

But if written Mandarin was already simplified in the past, then why should there be a restriction from further simplifying this written language?

The reason is: the difference of intentions behind this doing.
            The current traditional Mandarin evolved from a basic simplification of drawings; people transformed these detailed drawings into strokes so that the process of writing would be less tedious. These ancient scholars wished to maintain the origin of the word, and they did not stray from the roots of these characters. Political purposes, however, ignited the founding of simplified Mandarin; “…the rationale and objectives were always deeply political.” (Peterson 108) The founders of the Communist Cultural Party were not purely seeking to “ease” the burden of learning and writing Mandarin characters. Instead they intended to mold a divergent culture, a new world much different than their ancient traditions

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

PoL Draft

Please let me know if the organization of the piece is choppy. I know that there are one or two places that need to connect better...

I peered over my grandfather’s shoulder, attempting to catch a glance at the brush that hovered over the paper. Its black-stained hairs glistened as it lowered onto the surface of the white sheet, flowing across the page with hypnotic movements.
Stroke one. Grand jeté. Stroke two. The brush sashays. Stroke three. Dip. Stroke four. Sway.
            “What does that mean?”
            Shui.” Water.
            “Why does that word look so funny?”
            “Each stroke used to be drawn as curves- like the currents in a river. Now, we just write the character like this.”
            “Oh…” I tilted my six-year-old head. “Can you teach me how to write that?”

Written Mandarin, like any artistic masterpiece, is an art that requires the time, patience, and diligence to master. Every written character involves great attentiveness and care; each radical and stroke of every word is as detailed as the refined pigments in a painting. Not only has written Mandarin become an art, but it has also evolved into a thread that, over time, has sewn the multiple East Asian cultures together. This centuries-old written language represents the cultures that have composed the heritage of a people, and it has even carved a cultural identity and history for nations of distinct yet similar traditions.
However, what happens when a heritage within this massive culture tatters the thread- the connection- that binds a people to its beginnings and identity?
In 1949, when China underwent its infamous Cultural Revolution, “the cultural officials within the [Chinese] Cultural Party’s bureaucracy set out to simplify radically the way Chinese was written.” (Gargan) Throughout this “simplification” process, the Chinese government began to reform traditional Mandarin characters. China’s Cultural Party reduced the number of strokes in writing complex traditional characters, and they altered the traditional writing system with this iconoclastic movement. This new written “language,” as a result, has become the official written language of mainland China.
The intention of this particular movement was to increase literacy within the Chinese population. In achieving “total adult literacy [, however,] meant that characters…needed to be redesigned with fewer strokes so they would be easier to remember and write.” (Gargan) But in doing so, the simplification of Mandarin has compromised the depth and soul of this traditional written language.   
 Traditional Mandarin originated as a written communication through pictographs and ideographs. Mandarin was at first a language of pure illustrations: the word “mountain” would look like a mountain; the word “man” would look like a man. These pictures or basic symbols later composed the thousands of ideographs within this language. (Peterson)
Take the word lin (), or “forest,” for example. This character is based upon the word mu (), or “wood.” Forest, in the most basic definition, is an area filled with trees. Lin was formed by writing two “wood” or “trees” together; thus, the term “forest” illustrates the definition of “multiple trees.” Thousands of traditional characters have been formed based upon the simple idea of placing different characters or radicals, each with their own distinct meaning, together to produce a character that expresses a larger and more complex idea. (Peterson)
When simplified Mandarin was established, its new writing practices buried these long-settled traditional ideas. As officials continued to develop simplified Mandarin, they created a whole new written language, a form of communication barely comparable to its traditional style. Through traditional characters, one could decipher the distinct meanings by evaluating each and every detailed stroke and radical; on the other hand, no correlation exists between the simplified characters and the origin of the actual words.
Traditional Mandarin was actually an evolution from the original language as well. Ancient scholars had actually simplified the written Mandarin language to form the current and familiar traditional form. The Asian culture, over the centuries, simplified their original pictographs and ideographs into strokes and characters to form this traditional writing style.
But if written Mandarin was already simplified in the past, then why should there be a restriction from further simplifying this written language?
The reason is: the difference of intentions behind this doing.
The current traditional Mandarin evolved from a basic simplification of drawings; people transformed these detailed drawings into strokes so that the process of writing would be less tedious. These ancient scholars wished to maintain the origin of the word, and they did not stray from the roots of these characters. Political purposes, however, ignited the founding of simplified Mandarin; “…the rationale and objectives were always deeply political.” (Peterson 108) The founders of the Communist Cultural Party were not purely seeking to “ease” the burden of learning and writing Mandarin characters. Instead they intended to mold a divergent culture, a new world much different than their ancient traditions.
In cultivating their new “culture,” the Chinese government has educated their citizens through simplified Mandarin. Thousands of students and adults, even beyond mainland China, have been taught the language through simplified writing.
Teaching simplified Mandarin, however, is like teaching the English language through “texting language.” When English is taught to students, the structure and form of the language is the basis of this language education.  If taught properly, a student would be able to learn and construct simple phrases, such as “I have to go. I am going to be late.” However, if they are taught the simplified “texting language,” these students would be unaware of the foundations of the communication. As a result, their knowledge of this language would be vague and imprecise: “I gtg. I’m gonna b L8.
Supporters of simplified Mandarin argue that simplified is much easier write: ““Traditional Mandarin? Why must we learn that written language? Simplified is easy enough- it’s simplified!”
Although simplified Mandarin is easier to write, traditional is easier to learn. Traditional characters offer a greater number of indicators of word definitions and origins; their radicals and other symbols serve as pieces to a language “puzzle”. By learning traditional Mandarin, students would develop a better familiarity with these characters. In the end, their well-developed retention of these characters would allow the process of writing traditional words to be just as easy. Simplified Mandarin does not possess the in-depth qualities that enrich the learning of this language. In fact, simplified Mandarin “may actually retard character recognition by eliminating culture cues that formerly may have aided recognition and by reducing the distinctiveness of individual characters.” (Peterson 108)
It is inevitable, however, to avoid simplified Mandarin. This form of written language proliferated to almost every country within the past decades; even the United Nations uses simplified Mandarin! (“United Nations…”)  Although it has become the most popular form of written Mandarin, simplified Mandarin must not compose the face of this ancient language.
China’s 1950s-1960s Cultural Revolution is not East Asia’s cultural revolution. A large portion of the Asian culture has already established traditional writing as their main communication between the different Asian countries. Taiwan, Macau, Hong Kong, and Korea- to name a few- are countries that have centered their cultural language around traditional Mandarin. Even though their spoken and written languages differ, these countries are able to read and recognize these traditional characters. These characters have become the bond and thread that represent the Asian cultural heritage.
Without these ancient roots, the antique voices of the Asian culture can no longer speak, no longer live. Without these ancient roots, a people will wither away.
Their leaves will rust, their bark will shred, and, alas, their branches will fall.

“Why can’t I write this correctly? It looks so ugly!” The word looked so strange, so distorted.
The brush slammed against the white sheet.
“You need to practice. If you keep practicing, writing this word will become easier. I have written Mandarin for my whole life. You are just starting.”
“Still… I won’t be able to write as pretty as you do…”
“Just keep practicing.”
Grand jeté. Sashay. Dip. Sway. Grand jeté. Sashay…