John Proctor: Hero or Stooge?

Hero - a man distinguished by exceptional courage and nobility and strength. Stooge - flunky: a person of unquestioning obedience.
(As defined by Google)

John Proctor: Hero or Stooge? Hero

A very strong and influential member of the Puritan Church in Salem, Massachusetts, died a (mostly) honest man, fighting against the persecution of those who are thought to be “witches”. He lived a modest lifestyle, and always stood firm in his beliefs, no matter the outcome. John Proctor: Hero.

Yes, Proctor did commit the crime of lechery. Yes, Proctor did protect his reputation rather than telling the court about the crime with Abigail Williams. Yes, Proctor did “fake” being inhabited by the devil. Yes, that is all true.

No, Proctor did continue his affair with Abigail. No, Proctor did not abandon his wife when she was accused of witchcraft. No, Proctor never accused anyone, nor did he believe in witchcraft. Yes, Proctor never confessed to being a witch and ultimately died for it. Yes, that is all true.

On the day of his execution, officials brought in Reverend Hale and Proctor's wife, in the hope that he would find God and confess, which would save his life. However, he had already found God, and disliked going to Sunday worship because he felt that all Reverend Parris rarely talked about God in his sermons. They also hoped that Elizabeth would be able to convince him to confess, really, they didn't want him to die. She said she wanted him alive, but wouldn't want him to compromise his integrity for her.

He didn't. John Proctor was executed because he refused to confess to witchcraft which he didn't practice nor believe in. He showed exceptional courage, along with Rebecca Nurse and Giles Corey, all of which are heroes in my mind. We fear the judgment of others, yet, the heroes fear not the judgment of others, but the judgment of God.

"Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God"

Fear is commonly used as a scare tactic, from when your little and your parents say the cops will come an get you if your bad, to now when our own school threatens us with I.S.S. when we know they don't even enforce it in the first place. Jonathan Edwards uses this tactic in his sermon “Sinners In the Hands of an Angry God” given in his Puritan Church.

"The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you and is dreadfully provoked: his wrath towards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire”

Although Edwards is talking about the sinners, in a Puritan community it would be sinful to not pray once a day. If you forgot to pray one day, and you went to church and heard this; wouldn't you be terrified of God? Once you're in this terrified state I think there are two options: either kick it into overdrive to make up for your mistake, or lose all hope completely.

Although I don't go to church as regularly as I should, I am a Confirmed Catholic, and I do believe in God. My pastor from my old parish's Sunday sermons were often light, funny, often times could be related to my life, and really taught the scripture even further. I remember at my Confirmation, in his sermon he talked about Macaroni 'N Cheese, and I absolutely love Macaroni 'N Cheese. He spoke about how a healthy life has many different ingredients in it, family, friends, God, and a how a little Macaroni 'N Cheese never hurt. (I have really taken the Macaroni 'N Cheese part seriously, I have it incredibly often, Kraft Toy Story is probably my favorite kind, its almost like a vice.) I never felt threatened by my pastor nor do I think anyone should be.

No matter how good of a pastor he was, he couldn't change my views on many of the things the Catholic Church frowns upon. I am pro choice and same sex marriage, and I don't believe in Hell or Purgatory. My mother is divorced which isn't ideal in the Church, and therefore it's tough to throw my full support and heart and soul behind something that doesn't accept the most important person in my life.

Everyday, I walk by a Catholic grade school, and on it's sign it reads “ALL ARE WELCOME. CATHOLICS COME HOME.” and it gives me hope, and reminds me of my faith, although I rarely attend. I certainly wouldn't make it as a Puritan and I would probably fear for my life, literally, with almost every move. Also, I certainly couldn't handle Jonathan Edwards. I cannot judge those who/what I don't understand, but I do think scaring followers the way he did, didn't help the moral of the church community.

Arrivals... There Goes the Neighborhood

As teenagers, many are probably not accustomed to noticing cultural changes in their neighborhood. Your lifelong friends still live in the same house, and the really nice old lady still lives at the corner and passes out the good candy on Halloween, you’ve lived there you’re entire life and you don’t know anything different. But maybe once there was a new kid on the block, not the band, but a new kid. He didn’t have any friends and he didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of your block, and maybe he was so different that you heard a neighbor say “there goes the neighborhood”. Who would think that one family could have such a big effect on a neighborhood? But the reality is: it’s true. Although I never knew who that one family was, I saw my neighborhood slowly begin to change.

I grew up in the Belmont-Cragin area on the Northwest Side of Chicago, which 40 years ago was primarily Italian. When my family first moved into our bungalow on School Street 20 years ago, it was a mix of the older Italians who had been living there for quite some time and your average, middle-class American families. Passing neighbors greeted each other in English, all the kids played together on the block; it was a great place to raise a family.

Chicago has one of the highest populations of Polish immigrants in the nation, and the majority of them live on the Northwest Side. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, more and more Polish immigrants moved to the Belmont-Cragin area. With the migration came Polish delis, book stores, and clothing stores, where the merchants and the customers only spoke Polish. Gradually, our neighborhood became more Polish and less American. Polish became the language of the neighborhood, we couldn’t converse with our neighbors and it was tough to shop because not only did the merchants speak Polish but all the signs were in Polish. It also became commonplace to rent out rooms in cots in basements to their fellow countrymen. It was no longer just families living in a home; it was a family with many illegal borders. We became the minority in the neighborhood.

We continued to be the minority until 5 years ago when there was a gradual influx of Hispanics. Now, not only were the Poles speaking Polish, but the Hispanics were speaking Spanish, and the American families dwindled in numbers. The single family bungalows now housed several families in one building. The schools along with the neighborhood became overcrowded with too many cars on the street, too much garbage in the alleys, and the animosity amongst neighbors of different ethnicities grew. I no longer knew the people who lived on my block.

As my siblings moved away, our bungalow on School Street was too much for just my mom and me, she sold the house and we moved 6 months ago into a two-flat. I no longer call School Street or Belmont-Cragin my neighborhood, and it hasn’t felt like my neighborhood for a long time. The neighborhood continues to change and it was probably a good time for us to move. I now live in Lincoln Square and I understand everything that goes on around me, whether it’s store signs or people asking about the Cubs’ game on the street. I feel like I’m part of a neighborhood again.

An Introduction, An 'About Me'

It's official, school has begun, I'm doing my first actual writing assignment, an 'About Me', go figure. If you really want to know about me you should know this: I hate writing 'About Me's. I'm unsure as to what you want to know, and what you should know I don't think should be simply told to you. Reading one of these is to me the equivalent of stalking someone's Facebook page, you only learn the surface, and I would rather you know the core, the heart and soul, which I certainly won't pour out through the keys of my laptop.

Basically, I'm Haley Ray Thompson and I have blond hair and blue eyes. My birthday is 17 days from today, and because it's early in the year and everything relating to math is foreign, that makes my birthday September 26. I absolutely love my birthday, I figure, if you only have one day a year, why not make it the biggest deal of the year? Other than loving my birthday, I love my family and middle name, iPod, orange juice, N.Y.C., Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, Band-Aids that aren't plain (such as Disney Princess or Toy Story) and playing softball.

This isn't much about me, and I don't believe I lead you to think it would be. Most of what isn't answered, is the heart and soul of me, which you must find out on your own.