literature Archives - American Wordsmith

Race and Gender Do Not Matter

I would like to open this piece with two different excerpts:

Here is the first one:

The bond between husband and wife is a strong one. Suppose the man had hunted her out and brought her back. The memory of her acts would still be there, and inevitably, sooner or later, it would be cause for rancor. When there are crises, incidents, a woman should try to overlook them, for better or for worse, and make the bond into something durable. The wounds will remain, with the woman and with the man, when there are crises such as I have described. It is very foolish for a woman to let a little dalliance upset her so much that she shows her resentment openly. He has his adventures–but if he has fond memories of their early days together, his and hers, she may be sure that she matters.

And here is the second one:

You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be.

The first excerpt is from The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu, which is widely considered to be the first novel in the world. The author lived from around 973 to 1014 or 1025 CE, and the book was written between 1000 and 1012 CE.

Now, the second excerpt is from Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, who is a more modern author of novels. The author lived from 1813 to 1870 CE, and the book was written in 1861 CE.

One was written by a Japanese woman living in the Heian period (or the High Middle Ages in European history).

The other was written by an English man living in the Victorian era.

Besides languages changing and translations done, are either of these texts unintelligible? Is there any sense of loss in meaning or emotion across time? Does understanding cease with one being from another race or gender than our own? No, no, and no again.

People today are falling into the tribalist trap. Just because you are, let’s say, a young Hispanic woman who has not seen a flash drive or a cassette tape outside of museums, does not mean that you cannot read a book from any time period and empathize with that writer. That is truly the magic of literature. Modern people can still have a dialogue of sorts with other people who have long since gone back into the earth, regardless of skin color or gender. It doesn’t matter! What literature does is bring honest thoughts to the fore.

Still unconvinced? Let’s take another example. But, first, let me warn you that these images may be a bit too graphic for some viewers as they are of real human cadaver arms. I recently came across the Institute of Human Anatomy’s YouTube channel, and in a couple of their videos, they go into the complex anatomy of the human hand.

Can you tell what race either arm is? Neither could I. The screenshot on the left is of a black man and the one on the right is of a white woman. Race is not a scientific concept but simply a social one. Even Shakespeare points this out in The Merchant of Venice when Shylock says, “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” We all migrated out of Africa and have not had that much time to evolve, so there is only a superficial difference between us based on environmental factors (that is only 0.1% of our DNA). Underneath our skin, we look the same. An apt Ayn Rand quote from The Virtue of Selfishness deserves its place here: “Racism is the lowest, most crudely primitive form of collectivism. It is the notion of ascribing moral, social or political significance to a man’s genetic lineage—the notion that a man’s intellectual and characterological traits are produced and transmitted by his internal body chemistry. Which means, in practice, that a man is to be judged, not by his own character and actions, but by the characters and actions of a collective of ancestors.” She also famously says in her book, Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal, that “[t]he smallest minority on earth is the individual.”

The same thinking goes for sexism. Like many other people I’ve heard speak on this subject, I was one of those tomboy girls. I wore jeans and a T-shirt for my entire academic career. I found that these clothes were the most comfortable to live in because that way my outfits didn’t distract away from my studies. Did I think I was attracted to girls because of the way I dressed? No. Did I feel like I was in the wrong body because of it? No. I really did not feel “feminine” until I started having sex. Being with the opposite sex made me feel more submissive and I fit into the other half of the puzzle piece well. The bond between a man and a woman does feel very natural. However, all that time beforehand was purely a time for the mind to grow without restraint. In today’s day and age, my education was not withheld or manipulated to be on a different level or about different subjects from the boys. I learned about anything and everything I could (and I still am today). All of that to say, sex does not, nor should it, play a role in the education of a child.

The human mind is our tool of survival, and there is no race or gender divide that can stop us from using it and communicating our thoughts clearly with one another. There is no “separate reality” or “my truth.” There is no “black perspective” or “white perspective.” There is no age too old or young to understand one another once language is attained and maintained. There is no beauty standard that makes us unable to speak to each other. There is no reason a man cannot explain something to a woman and vice versa.

The only difference to be found concerns varying cultures. While Ayn Rand talks about culture as “not the anonymous product of undifferentiated masses, but the sum of the intellectual achievements of individual men (The Virtue of Selfishness),” I do think that there can be bad cultures that uphold negative things as values.

The battles of ideas and values play out in various cultures, but most of them sink and only a few of them swim over the long term. For example, history proves to us that killing off a group based on superficial reasons causes war and loss and suffering. The culture quickly forgoes that as a value once they lose the war. A culture centered around gang violence and stealing from stores only tears down its followers and destroys itself from the inside out. But a culture where individual happiness is the focus provides people with diets and exercise plans and enlightenment ideas. There are numerous examples I could run through concerning what makes up a good culture versus a bad one, but I do not have time for that here. Come up with your own. What divides us, at least in first-world countries today, is not race or gender but a culture war where tribalism is rearing its ugly head.

I am here to remind you that race and gender do not matter. Period. Stop listening to the news that is telling you otherwise. Stop teaching students that there is a veil between us that separates our “realities” and our “truths” from being acknowledged by “the other.” Stop saying that this group can’t be held accountable because of the color of their skin. Stop whispering the things that should be said aloud. Stop playing the victim and remember that there is only one race: the human race.

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Links: https://www.amazon.com/Tale-Genji-Penguin-Classics-Deluxe/dp/014243714X/ref=asc_df_014243714X/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=353567357648&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=261658845120380685&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9018402&hvtargid=pla-433833151184&psc=1&mcid=adaf1d9913d1301d99b5adca204c77c3&tag=&ref=&adgrpid=79744846988&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvadid=353567357648&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=261658845120380685&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9018402&hvtargid=pla-433833151184&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIzt_m_vH2gwMVySitBh3w8gDmEAQYASABEgJdE_D_BwE; https://www.amazon.com/Great-Expectations-Barnes-Noble-Classics/dp/1593080069; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-y69D76RdMs&ab_channel=InstituteofHumanAnatomy; https://www.amazon.com/Merchant-Venice-Folger-Shakespeare-Library/dp/0743477561/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2IMMOBYCCR9BS&keywords=the+merchant+of+venice&qid=1706129264&s=books&sprefix=the+merchant+of+venice%2Cstripbooks%2C122&sr=1-1; https://www.amazon.com/Virtue-Selfishness-Fiftieth-Anniversary/dp/0451163931/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2R0VQVTO930S9&keywords=the+virtue+of+selfishness+by+ayn+rand&qid=1706129274&s=books&sprefix=the+virtue+of+%2Cstripbooks%2C108&sr=1-1; https://www.amazon.com/Capitalism-Ideal-Ayn-Rand/dp/0451147952

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Views Expressed Disclaimer: The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent the postings, strategies, or opinions of American Wordsmith, LLC. Please also know that while I consider myself an Objectivist and my work is inspired by Objectivism, it is not nor should it be considered Objectivist since I am not the creator of the philosophy. For more information about Ayn Rand’s philosophy visit: aynrand.org.

To Readers

Mission Statement: “I write to inspire readers to cherish the most meaningful moments found in daily life.”

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Kaitlyn Bankson (born Kaitlyn Marie Quis in New York, January 3, 1994), better known by her pen name Kaitlyn Lansing, is an American writer, calligrapher, and proofreader. Kaitlyn studied literature and philosophy throughout her education, which shaped her creative voice. Her published works include: Metamorphosis: An Anthology of Poems; Unveiled: An Anthology of Nonfiction; Urgency: An Anthology of Short Stories; Marginalia from the Snake Pit: A Novella; The Paper Pusher; The Dormant Age; A Man of Silence; and A Man of Action. Kaitlyn’s unique perspective and raw prose bring light to matters that are often left untouched. Readers can see more of Kaitlyn’s work at kaitlynlansing.com.

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Finding My Own Voice

It was in high school the first time I noticed my gut telling me in class that what I was hearing was wrong but could not say why. I was lost in the dark with just a feeling of nausea hanging over me most of the time. I found clarity and words for what I was feeling over the summer when my dad handed me Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. I was fifteen. It took me a few weeks to read through, but I was glued to it. I had finally found a voice, a role model, an inspiration out there in the sea of darkness.

But after sticking my head out in class several times, I learned quickly that my opinions were not the norm nor were they very popular. I decided to stop chiming in as much and that only diminished further when I got to college—one of the most liberal bastions of thought on the planet. My poorly graded papers on Kant in my philosophy classes again showed me that if I was going to get my degree I had to remain silent.

I joined the workforce soon after as a receptionist in a law firm, where, of course, my job was to be accommodating and likable—not confrontational, so I stayed quiet for fear of losing my job.

I fell in love, moved, and ended up in my second library job since college. Here I was surrounded by more of the same ideologies and I knew better now to keep quiet.

I had written by then books, but none of them were picked up by the liberal publishing houses. I even had agents sympathetic to me tell me that anything that even slightly reeked of alternative ideas would never see the light of day.

So, like many of the YouTube, Rumble, Apple Podcast, etcetera, channels I have watched grow for lack of a voice in the mainstream media, I have had to try whispering into the void—dipping my toes in to see if my head will be lopped off for my opinions.

I now work for myself as a freelancer and I have nothing to lose, really. I have no teachers or professors there to lower my grades, I have no boss to fire me, I am completely on my own now and able to sink or swim by my own design.

I wonder all the time who is “my audience”? Who is out there to hear me now shouting into the void? Who will respond with an echo? Will it be a young man who calls himself an Objectivist? Will it be a stay-at-home mother who wants to be reminded of how wonderful life can be? Will it be a business owner who needs some inspiration?

I hope to find my audience someday or at least some friends who share the same values that I have gained ever since I read Atlas Shrugged that glorious summer.

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Who Am I and What Do I Believe In?

As I wrote about in the previous blog post, Atlas Shrugged and, subsequently, all of the other works that Ayn Rand produced have changed my life. My interest in her led me to the Ayn Rand Institute where I interned, joined the Objectivist Academic Center, attended conferences, and even became a student leader for them. I learned more about Rand’s philosophy as well as how to communicate and write more effectively. It served as my saving grace away from my constantly learning what not to do or think in college. I will forever be grateful for my opportunities there, and I still tune in to their podcasts every week!

Once I had finished consuming all of Rand’s works, I felt comfortable enough considering myself an Objectivist. Objectivism is defined briefly in the “About the Author” section of the Appendix in Atlas Shrugged, where Rand writes: “My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.” To break that down a bit more take a look at the Ayn Rand Lexicon online where she breaks down the branches of Objectivism further in “Introducing Objectivism” in The Objectivist Newsletter (Aug. 1962):

My philosophy, Objectivism, holds that:

Reality exists as an objective absolute—facts are facts, independent of man’s feelings, wishes, hopes or fears.
Reason (the faculty which identifies and integrates the material provided by man’s senses) is man’s only means of perceiving reality, his only source of knowledge, his only guide to action, and his basic means of survival.
Man—every man—is an end in himself, not the means to the ends of others. He must exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and of his own happiness is the highest moral purpose of his life.
The ideal political-economic system is laissez-faire capitalism. It is a system where men deal with one another, not as victims and executioners, nor as masters and slaves, but as traders, by free, voluntary exchange to mutual benefit. It is a system where no man may obtain any values from others by resorting to physical force, and no man may initiate the use of physical force against others. The government acts only as a policeman that protects man’s rights; it uses physical force only in retaliation and only against those who initiate its use, such as criminals or foreign invaders. In a system of full capitalism, there should be (but, historically, has not yet been) a complete separation of state and economics, in the same way and for the same reasons as the separation of state and church.

She also includes in “Philosophy: Who Needs It” from her book, Philosophy: Who Needs It that “[t]he fifth and last branch of philosophy is esthetics, the study of art, which is based on metaphysics, epistemology and ethics.”

In essence, I want to be clear to my readers that I am, in the crudest sense, an atheist who believes in capitalism. And all of my work, motivation, and subsequent goals since I was fifteen have stemmed from those values that I have held close to me. Anyone who is offended by such views is free to put my work down and forget about my existence. But for those who share my views, welcome and enjoy my work.

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On the Reader

I grew up with sensitive parents who each dealt with their own set of mental health difficulties. While I felt their love and affection during my key years of development, by seven, divorce shook my family to its core, and by eleven, death had riven it asunder. I would never be the same again and I was forced early on into the philosophical conundrum of asking “why?” Why did my mother have to die so young? Why do I deserve this suffering? Why can’t my family get along? Why is life so difficult?

Books became my way of searching for the “why” to life. It was the only way I knew how to do research. My parents both read and wrote, and so I became familiar early on with the concept of reading and escaping and learning and knowing through the page. I learned that reading and writing were my strengths throughout school as well.

That is why surface-level stories have not interested me since elementary school, when every book on the shelf felt like a gift or a piece of candy. But today, especially with so much out there, I do not have time for stories that are simply meant to entertain—not that there is anything immoral about them. But I have always wanted to learn how to be happy. I have always read literature with a purpose in mind, which is why I take it so seriously. How do I find happiness? I took the good and bad stories as a guide for what I should and should not do in order to be happy. And to do that, I had to judge.

I have learned so much more about humanity through literary fiction than any therapy session or movie or lecture in school. By asking myself why does the character behave that way, I can have a dialogue with the writer through their story. I can walk in those proverbial shoes of another human being to discover new things about myself and my own life story.

So there has always been this fire in my belly to know—to read and then compare that created world of the authors to my personal experience. Nothing will get you further in life than being honest with yourself first and foremost, and that it what I love the most about my parents. For I think they were each brutally honest with themselves and the world they lived in. I learned to never stray from taking an honest look at myself, which is what a writer must be: brutally honest with themselves and the world they live in.

Therefore, I hope that it has become clearer to you why I do not feel I have the time to read “genre fiction” but only “literary fiction.” It is not because I am being snobbish; it is because I need answers to live. If I didn’t have access to all the classics I have read thus far, then I may have suffocated a long time ago. For, you see, as a child who had no control over my external circumstances, something had to be under my control and I needed to know that life would get better and that I could make it so.

My reading and searching and effort paid off when I found the philosophy for living a happy life on earth, Ayn Rand’s Objectivism. It gave me the secular kind of morality that I was searching for and the control I craved to steer my newfound adult life into the light. She saved me from the gut-wrenching feeling I had whenever I left my humanities classes in high school but could never explain clearly. I was suffering from a public school system that rapidly became less about learning how this world works and more about how guilty I should feel for even breathing. The message of guilt only heightened in degree in college until I had to find more of a concrete link to Objectivism through the Ayn Rand Institute and all they had to offer.

High school and college life made me feel like that out-of-control child, where life was determined and I had to succumb to a fate where life was “nasty, brutish, and short” (Hobbes). I have felt existential dread before, but it was due to an entire educational system that, overall, refused to integrate. My supply of air was thinning out, and the anxiety beast inside of me rose up and fought to take over my life. After lots of therapy and medication and building up my adult life away from the school system, I am finally starting to feel like I am on stable ground again.

To me, good literature reveals truths about who we are as humans—from the best in us to the worst. In that sense, I agree with John Gardner who wrote On Moral Fiction. We need more moral fiction, not in the religious sense, but in the way that it can inspire and guide people toward virtue and against vice in order to attain happiness. Again, we have come to an age that no longer needs religion, but it most certainly still needs a moral code. Ayn Rand gave us a philosophical framework to live by such values but now, I believe, people need to see a barrage of examples of secular-based morality.

Sadly, people still believe that morality is inextricably linked to Judeo-Christian beliefs. But people must live according to the laws of reality or else they will die. And, again, going back to the Tolstoyan idea, there are essentially so many ways to die and only one way to live. Maybe that’s why reading books with tragic endings raises the hairs on our heads, because we are learning how to avoid death. At least, that is how seriously I take my reading and writing endeavors, and I hope you will too.

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