It should be concluded among all with good morals that those who do good things are to be rewarded. In fact, that’s how we assume our entire system works, and should work; if you work hard and stick by well-grounded morals, you’ll be rewarded. Disregarding the fact that many aren’t born into stable families with a well-off financial status, I do believe that’s how it should work in our world if everyone were to be given a fair chance. It shouldn’t be guaranteed that if you do something considered to be ‘good’, like properly putting your shopping cart away in the grocery store parking lot, you’ll be rewarded. When you do something out of the goodness of your heart, you shouldn’t expect anyone else to notice it, but rather, you should acknowledge that you’ve made something just a little better, and that in itself is enough of a reward. I believe that if you have your heart in the right place, the reward is the small ripples of kindness and order that go a long way to setting good patterns. For evil deeds, or plain stupid actions, there should be consequences one way or another. Whether that way is being grounded from all electronic devices or imprisonment, it entirely depends on the action done, or prevented from being done, and the intent behind it. Without balancing wrongdoings with consequences, the incentives to act morally will diminish the longer it continues. Rewarding good and punishing evil is an important pattern that promotes fairness and well-shaped morals for society.

Good fortune is often something you earn, and while it can be attained through luck, either way it’s important to recognize the privilege that comes with it; the good and the bad that can be done with it. Many justify their good fortune through hard upbringings and luck, and others may flaunt the wealth they’re born into. I believe the only way to justify it is to do something good with it; to support others that aren’t as lucky to have what you do. A responsibility is carried through the privilege of a good fortune, so by sharing it and creating equal opportunities for others, your good fortune can be justified and spent well. Justifying good fortune lies not in its entitlement, but in how it’s used— through acknowledging the chance and work that brought you to it, and paying it forward through meaningful ways.

Even if no rewards are reaped, whether it be monetary or pride-based, acting ethically helps maintain a moral code; a societal order that establishes peace rather than conflict. It tends to set an example for others as well, promoting qualities of integrity, honesty, and loyalty. It’s not necessarily about immediate rewards that are received, if any at all, but it’s about creating a progressive society centered around fairness and compassion.

Even if ethical actions may lead to punishment, or even death, who you are as a person is told through the choices you make. A direct reflection of yourself is made when you decide to leave that shopping cart on the sidewalk rather than taking the extra two minutes to put it back. And while the consequence to that might just be a dirty look from a worker, it can be enough to make-or-break someone’s day, or even shape how they perceive the majority of the world around them. Leaving the cart by itself may seem trivial, but it’s a reflection of who you are when you’re alone; will you do the morally good thing and take the extra time out of your day to put it back, or will you leave it behind for another to take care of? It’s their job after all, right? This is what separates those that do what’s convenient from those that do what’s right. Yet, the reality is that doing what’s right doesn’t always yield fairness or justice. Sometimes, it leads to suffering or loss, as seen through Job. Despite his unwavering righteousness, Job is punished in ways that seem cruel and unjust. Perhaps this story isn’t about disproving the value of ethical living, but about challenging the notion that goodness guarantees reward. God’s actions toward Job is a test of faith, serving as a reminder that morality and suffering aren’t always balanced in ways humans can comprehend. It’s a response that forces Job to consider the deeper meanings in life that he couldn’t possibly understand. God’s actions show this belief through highlighting humanity’s limitations to understanding the actions of divine will, as it forces Job to build trust in the greater purpose of the divine. Following this, it asks the question: do we act ethically because we expect something in return, or because it’s the right thing to do, regardless of the outcome? Personally, I believe the answer to this is subjective to everyone, and there is no ‘right’ answer. Job’s story keeps us ‘on our toes’ with this theme of questioning, but by choosing a gracious life filled with good after everything he’s gone through and the doubt he could’ve felt in God but didn’t, might just show what his answer would’ve been.

a.) As the poem mentions an “old-fashioned house,” it’s given the name Eden to represent a close tie to the Garden of Eden, telling a poem to mirror Adam and Eve’s experience of being exiled. Using both literal and metaphorical aspects of leaving a place subconsciously thought of as home, it’s tied closely to Adam and Eve’s departure from the Garden of Eden. The writer describes “that old-fashioned House” as a place we unconsciously connect with, a home whose significance we don’t fully recognize until we leave it. This is emphasized when it’s written “…without suspecting our abode until we drive away,” highlighting how we may feel longing for our “abode” once we’re away from it, creating a feeling of homesickness. This mirrors Adam and Eve’s experience, as they didn’t recognize the balance and perfection of their home, the Garden of Eden, until they were forced to leave. Through this, it may be safe to assume that we often take for granted what we have until it’s gone, because much like Adam and Eve, we overlook our home’s value until we’re forced to live away from it.
This first-person perspective offers a glimpse into Adam and Eve’s minds, especially as the writer says “How fair on looking back, the day we sauntered from the Door.” The word “sauntered” suggests a casual, almost a lack of awareness, parting; the weight of leaving their home not fully processed. Although Adam and Eve’s banishment from the Garden of Eden was as a result of their disobedience, they may not have fully understood the irreversible loss of their home until they were banished. This portion of the poem illustrates a retrospective realization, that only by looking back do we recognize the, typically emotional, importance of what we had. It shows that, likely from the start of humanity, in this case it’s Adam and Eve, a part of our human nature is our tendency to “saunter” away from what we have, and looking back on that casual parting and wishing we turned around to stay.

b.) While I’m not banished from my home, in a way, I’m permanently leaving it. Unlike Adam and Eve, I can come back for vacations and holidays, but I won’t be a permanent resident like I once was. Maybe through the aspect of losing my innocence, we’re similar. Being on your own to experience the world as it is takes something away from you. Adam and Eve were like, if not completely portrayed as, children. I believe that when you’re a child, you hold something innocent inside of you, yet as you grow older, and as you simultaneously leave your home to make a new one, you lose it. In that aspect, I believe I’m similar to Adam and Eve leaving their home to make a new one elsewhere, because that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Meanwhile, the poem directly emphasizes a more literal aspect of “driving away.” Unlike how the poem addresses how we don’t recognize the deep emotional connection we have to our “old-fashioned House,” I certainly do. Especially as I get to the part of my life where I’m creating a home outside one I’m familiar with, I’ve become conscious of appreciating each detail of the one I have now. I’m accustomed to moving often; I’ve developed a habit of making sure I don’t grow attached to the places I’ve lived. However, I carry a piece of each home with me, whether it’s the objects I inherit along the way or the piece of my heart they find their ways into, I carry each home with me. Rather than regretting not staying another day, or feeling a bitter pang in my heart knowing another family is living in my past homes, I’d rather not stay in one place too long. I like to keep parts of my heart open for each place I sleep, because my home isn’t just one place; it’s everywhere.

c.) I’m not used to returning to a place I once lived. It feels haunting even thinking about it, because I know nothing will be the same. Especially as my parents realize they don’t “need” to stay together for their children anymore, I’m not sure I’ll have a home to come back to. Despite all of this, however, I’m scared my room will be gone. The flower garlands I’ve hung above my bed and the dozens of warm lights strung in the corners of my rooms to replace the hospital-esque ceiling light may be gone. And while it’s been only three years, coming close to four, that I’ve lived in this room, I wanted to believe it’d always be there; that’d I’d always have a place to return to. I’ve only ever just wanted my own room to keep, with all the childhood memories that come with it. I’m truly afraid that my room will no longer be mine; that the walls I’ve sticky-tacked posters on, every bundle of flowers I’ve hung, and each cork board adorned with postcards, sticky notes, and photos I’ve accumulated over the years will be gone. I hope I’ll be able to find permanence in the new home I make. I hope that, maybe then, I could keep something all to myself again.

It was embarrassing being the only one in my family to cry as much as I did. Even at a debatably mature age, I couldn’t stop my lower lip from quivering as I got scolded for doing those childish, preventable mistakes. However, after being left in the care of an emotionally absent father, any scolds turned to screams, and my trembling hands would follow shortly after the quiver of my lip. The familiarity of thick mucus and tears forming a glob of glue in my throat became a comforting dissociation from the crescent moons that bled into my palms.

Even during the short times my mother would come back, I learned to relish in the limited time I had with her. I’d stick like glue to her side, unwilling to spend time emotionally exhausting myself when I could just hug her. Even as she saw my watery eyes build and would hear my stuffy voice brokenly wavering through each sentence, she’d tell me one thing only: “It’s okay not to be okay.” And just as quickly as she’d be back, she’d be gone the next, and the cycle would repeat.

Through the years, I couldn’t understand what she meant. I mean, I did: “it’s okay to accept you’re not okay and seek help rather than stay in denial.” Except, I didn’t understand how to cope with the shame of knowing there’s a problem. I didn’t want to seem dramatic, but I knew downplaying my own feelings would only foster resentment. That confusion grew to frustration, and then to a hot, boiling anger when I’d hear my mother’s even-toned voice: “It’s okay to not be okay.” What good was this mantra when she wasn’t around to help me fix things?

I grew shame in the wrong places as it’d stuff itself into the occupied spaces of my mind. Ashamed that I wasn’t smart enough to understand, or that she might exhale a deep sigh of disappointment as she explained such a simple phrase to me.

Although it took years for me to tell her about the fears and trauma developed in her absence, I began to understand when she took me in her arms. As she would cradle my head like I was 8 again, that daunting loneliness was replaced with a deep understanding as she listened to my wavery voice muffled in her shoulder.

I realized it wasn’t about letting yourself cry and rest alone, but it was about doing so together. Even as I hear that phrase every so often, I find myself wanting to sigh at it again. Except this time, it wouldn’t be out of irritation, but rather, it’d be another “I know, mom.”

How do we figure out whether or not a life has value? When do we make this decision? What is the meaning and purpose of life?

While part of me holds a utilitarian perspective, the other part has a more existential belief regarding deciding whether or not a life holds value. Regarding the utilitarian part, I believe the value of a life is determined on its contribution to the development of our world, not just a society. This contribution could be measured by economic or scientific success, and it could also be measured through positive influences one has on the world around them, including people. Regarding the existentialist approach in my views, I also believe that someone’s value isn’t inherently placed upon them, nor is it completely what they can contribute to the world. It should be stressed that the value someone puts on themself is subjective, but most important compared to the value another puts on them. It’s unfair, from an outside perspective, to determine whether another life but your’s holds any value, as this lens could be corrupted through subjective beliefs about what’s “most important” for society. Through this view, value is not given, it is created as you live and determine what’s most important, alongside how you can contribute to those virtues. When we make these decisions is when, I believe, we are near the end of our life. If we’re lucky enough to have retrospective time to ourselves, alone on our deathbed, we can truly determine whether our life was valuable or not. We can determine, at this time and this time alone, if we were valuable to the world, a society, another person, or to ourselves. I do not believe we can determine this at any other time, since through reaching the conclusion of our life, we’ve experienced all we’ve thought of and done.

As for the meaning and purpose of life, I believe that goes hand-in-hand with my existentialist beliefs. Our meaning and purpose of life is determined by ourselves through the life we have already lived. Our vision of completing a satisfactory life to be proud of typically varies from person to person. As for me, my meaning of life is to live so I don’t have daunting regrets, and to dedicate my entire existence to making the world, not just one with humans, a lush and healthy space for all walks of life to live peacefully in. While I may never see this through the time I’ve lived, knowing I’ve contributed to a time where this could be possible, even if it’s just a little, will always be enough for me. Though, with the possibility that I have not helped, knowing I’ve tried hard for as long as I’ve lived to be helpful and kind is all I need to rest easy.

A) List five things you want to have possessed or have experienced by the time you reach the end of your life (whenever that may be).

1. Loving a child as much as my mother loves me.
2. Pursuing any form of knowledge for as long as I can.
3. Loving as many people who come into my life as I can.
4. Making history for more than just being a woman. (I am VERY proud to be a woman and do NOT have any internalized misogyny, I just want to be known for my achievements rather than being a woman.)
5. Being even half the woman my mother is. She’s strong-willed, tough-love yet gentle, and completely dominates the workplace as a vice president.

B) How will you be remembered? Add to this list one quality you would like to be remembered for.

I would like to be remembered for my kindness. If not that, then my tenaciousness, including all the negatives that come with it. While stubbornness can be widely considered a bad thing, and I heavily support having the quality of humility, I believe it can be extremely useful for a variety of things, albeit annoying.

C) Discuss why each of these things (or ideals, ideas or qualities) are important to you personally.

1. Growing up, I was surrounded by little kids and held a responsibility of looking out for them, despite also being a little kid. I felt a pang in my brain that kept me alert for their safety, skeptically side eyeing each stranger nearby. Maybe this was a quality I received from my mother, and despite only being 17, I truly want to hold onto this responsibility. Being able to care for a child of my own, even if not a biologically-related one, will never define the meaning of my life: it’ll only make me satisfied knowing I can raise and love a child just as my mother did with me. Maybe I can’t explain this feeling well, but I do know I’d like to help run an orphanage when I retire. I want to teach and give children insight into life before they have to experience things the hard way. Growing up with a lack of emotional support and guidance, I know I want to give children what I didn’t have.
2. I love to learn, and I love to pursue my interests. Like any other person, I have things that make me more interested than others. Despite this, I want to give myself the chance to like things I never thought I would. I feel that the only way I can do this for myself, is to read. For instance, I used to strictly read fictional books, as I thought creative ideals were the easiest things for me to comprehend. By doing this, I limited myself in my intake of knowledge in a variety of fields for so long. Now, although I’m more inclined to read nonfiction books of the most obscure and non-related topics, I have an appreciation and desire to understand all fields of knowledge in the realms of both nonfiction and fiction.
3. The topic of “love” is one I’m extremely passionate about. I believe that love holds a subjective definition to all, and it truly takes time and experience to understand. My definition of love is being able to be emotionally and physically vulnerable with another person. Giving someone your raw self and having them take it and face you with an unchanging desire to stay with you is, to me, love. At no point in my life do I want to hold this back. Despite all the teenage heartbreak and familial betrayal, something that could never change about me is the love and acceptance I give, that I will keep giving.
4. As stated earlier, I am so proud to be a woman in this world. I’m proud to have a mother making history in her career field, becoming a complete staple of hard-work and badassery for her female coworkers and subordinates. I would, if ever given the opportunity, love to be the first woman to do anything. I, however, don’t want to be remembered for just being the first woman in a position. I want to be remembered as the first woman to achieve something remarkable that, absolutely anyone, would have to work for years to achieve.
5. My biggest supporter in life has always been my mother. Despite her physical absence, I’ve always understood that everything she has ever done was for her family. If time permitted her to do so, she’d balance family life with work life as she’d like. However, despite every obstacle and all the month-long business trips that pulled her away, she continues to work twice as hard to be there for me. Understanding how she juggles everything, in the midst of a pandemic and social crises that occur at her work, is something I likely won’t understand until I’m, at least, double my age. She is the image of what I chase after, because she isn’t just my mom. She’s the woman that inspires me to keep going every day, and I wouldn’t ever know what to do without her.

D) Discuss how each of these things (or ideals, ideas or qualities) are valuable to humanity.

1. In my opinion, this form of love and belief lays a firm base for a child’s development. This enables them to understand, have faith in others and become tougher so as to deal with the current world. This love creates such a bond that children feel secure and loved, giving many an opportunity that helps build a better society. As a whole, it shows how people should interact with one another, setting an example to mirror that kindness for the future.
2. I appreciate the act of learning because it allows me to broaden my horizons and change with the times. It also promotes thinking and imagination, which are fundamental to the development of any civilization. This furthers my own curiosity, providing me with satisfaction I receive from simply “knowing”. In the end, it helps me to make reasoned choices and to participate even more actively in the life of society.
3. An important value that I hold dear is love; to show my own version of love and acceptance as I can. Our relationships and human connections hold us together as an entirety, so I try my best to build as many meaningful relationships as I can. Not only do I feel I improve my own life when I love and support people in my vicinity, but also I feel I contribute to the growing of more empathy and understanding with those I meet. Love breaks down barriers, brings people closer, and can make the world a much more compassionate place.
4. I don’t want to be remembered in history just because I am a woman. I want my legacy to be recognized not just by my gender, but by what I did and how I did it. I truly want to show that success and impact are beyond labels, and I do hope my efforts inspire others, especially young women, to be recognized because of their abilities and actions.
5. Becoming half of what my mother is correlates directly to young audiences being influenced by models and figures in their life. The way my mother has shaped me is a testament to how powerful it is to have strong, inspiring figures to look up to. When young people see someone who balances strength with compassion, ambition with humility, and success with integrity, it sets a blueprint for their own development. They start to believe that they, too, can achieve great things while staying true to their values.

Everything in life—be it physical, emotional, or societal—is ever changing. The idea of ‘no permanence’ is not new, especially in the context of governance and lifestyles. As humans, we learn how to adapt our way of thinking over time to best fit how we think life should be. While this way of thinking has proven faulty through time, as we tend to push our beliefs onto others, it has also allowed us, and future generations, to shape society . On page 107, Utnapishtim remarks how “From the days of old there is no permanence,” suggesting that even in ancient times, people recognized the fleeting nature of life. This sparks the question of how will we continue living a normal life, knowing our world won’t last forever? What will life be once we pass?

I’ve noticed through my time of living, albeit shorter than many, we all search for a way to belong. We continue to move forward to find a meaning; a meaningful connection with others, a meaning in our present, and pursuing a goal that will establish an important meaning in our lives. Whether we recognize this truth consciously or subconsciously, death is inevitable, so why spend the few remaining decades of our lives fretting over when it will catch up to us? The legacy we leave for future generations is unpredictable, but our individual purpose becomes understood once we recognize the years we’ve spent dedicating ourselves to being something is the meaning in life we gain. The death of Gilgamesh, for instance, was a pivotal moment in his retrospection of his life; of the people he’s met, the connections he’s made, and the achievements he’s reaped through hard work. Enlil’s praise of Gilgamesh’s memory strongly shows the impact of the legacy left behind, as he remarks “You were given the kingship, such was your destiny, everlasting life was not your destiny” (118). While Gilgamesh’s search for physical immortalization was fruitless, his “destiny” was to live forever through his legacy.

A sense of order becomes naturally established through the traditions we create, our religious beliefs, and the institutions we build up to offer a framework of our society. One of which we hope our future generations will build off of to live their lives with dedication and meaning. The collection of human experiences through the endless timeline of our universe (and perhaps many more) ripple forward, contributing to the development of millions, if not billions, of other lives around us. The idea that we die once, not twice, has proven true through time. The first is when we pass on, and the second is when the last memory of us fades. Although Gilgamesh fell to one, his “…unexampled supremacy over the people…” (118) has made him remembered as a prime example of who he wanted to continue living as. Forever in history, his legacy of power, leadership, and strength-in-self has brought him the eternal life he yearned for.

Whether it’s Odysseus in The Odyssey, Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings, or even Hercules, these “hero protagonists” typically have the common theme of “Good vs. Evil”. They have the typical story arc of a hero’s journey through trials, guidance, and transformation with the main struggle of “saving the world” from evil. A hero doesn’t always have the same moral values, however, as many are shown attempting to justify accidental, or even purposeful, actions. Take Odysseus, for example; he could have returned home early, but was insistent on staying with Circe for two years and spending an additional seven with Calypso. Personal morals have a strong presence between characters in a book and the reader. While a protagonist may have committed heroic acts of “saving the day”, they are certainly not immune to outside judgment of their beliefs or actions. However, a character’s journey as a representative of “goodness” and “morality” in stories is completely different from flawed judgment and mistakes made along the way. Yet it can also be argued that finding oneself through trials and tribulations, a stubbornness to concede in the face of conflict, and unsaid kindnesses makes up the general qualities of a hero, disregarding outside judgment of their character. Furthermore, it should not be an argument of whether or not a woman can be part of this category as well; a woman can. As to why there aren’t any women-related heroines listed above, that would have to do with a deep rooted belief that women aren’t capable of that “strength”. Historically, outside influences of misogyny have embedded a cycle of hatred and insecurity into women and their presumed abilities of what they can and cannot achieve. This unending cycle has become internalized into women across the globe, impacting the stories written about them and who they are (if there are even stories of women showing heroic strength). While there are a variety of conducts to place a hero into, I believe one of the most important ones is perseverance and strength. While perseverance—not allowing yourself to succumb to defeat—is relatively straightforward, talking about heroic strength isn’t talking about physical strength. It’s about recognizing your bravery is your strength, even if the hero is overcome with fear and doubt, overcoming those setbacks with courage is strength. This model of conduct becomes integral as role models of what we should achieve to be as humans. It was never about the wand Harry Potter had, or the superhuman strength Achilles has; it’s about the impactful stories and self-development that makes humans admire heroes. Even if they’re not a textbook example of a hero, and they don’t even have to be considered a hero, the ability humans have to connect and empathize with these characters is what makes us need them. I believe Bertolt Brecht had a point when he said, “Unhappy the land that needs heroes,” but I don’t believe it’s a general statement of humanity. You don’t need to be miserable or have to have gone through something traumatic to need a hero. However, it’s likely the point Brecht is trying to make is centered on the desperation humans have to not feel alone. If one is unhappy with their life, they’re typically lacking a connection they deem valuable. However, reading, watching, or listening to stories of heroes give inspiration and connection to someone. Ultimately, while the exact definition of a human may run as subjective to most, the parallels found between their lives and our’s give us the strength to find inspiration and persevere through the most difficult times in life.