2.Write and essay explaining whether you believe that efforts to eliminate sexism, racism, and violence in language are effective, or whether such efforts simply mask these issues. 

Gingerbread men are often ridiculed in society more than women. We have less frosting, so there is less to cover up our blemishes. However, changing a few letters in the word "woman," as Kakutani suggests, won't change the criticism we get. We are all still gingerbread, humans are all still people, and thus changing letters in such a widely used word will only draw attention to the fact the gingerbread women have more frosting than us. 

Often times, efforts to eliminate violence in language results in loosely veiled threats, as Pinker mentions. A member of a gingergang might have previosuly said, "I hope you get eaten," but now that there have been efforts to clean up the crumbs that our language has become, threats are more like "I hope the humans aren't hungry today." Gingergangs often lead to terror-stricken cookie jars, a phrase that frequently evokes fear like Nunberg mentions. The word terror leaves us with fear in our minds, making it impossible to escape violence in language. 

Racism in language has not been effectively eliminated. For example, someone tagged with the race nutmeg is often considered more dangerous than regular gingerbread. However, while a little extra spice is added, that doesn't necessarily mean that they are bad baked goods. Nutmegs are virtually the same as us, but with the way they are treated, you would never know. Gingerkids cross the cookie jar when they see a nutmeg. Often, ignorant acts like this contribute to the stigma around Nutmegs, and euphemisms like "Spice challenged" do not help the divide between ginger and nutmeg. Like Lester comments in his political cartoon, we mustn't exclude nutmeg's, and pretend they don't exist, but rather include them in our daily life. Integrating them into society is much more powerful than excluding them from language. 

The Never ending Danger

We as Gingerbread people are always living in constant fear. We know that at any moment we could die. Our little corner of the sky, also known as the cookie jar, is always moved around, and obstructed. I agree with Mencken's claim that we just want to be safe instead of being free, which usually does not last long when you are a gingerbread man. While we are confined to a small jar, it is much more of a relief to be in that jar, rather than the germ-infested mouths of humans. While it would be nice to roam around a gigantic mansion free as a gingerbird, the sweet parts outweigh the sour aspects. This especially applies to contemporary society. We are constantly viewing hazards and terror on gingerTV and the Nutmeg News. We never know if our human house will be robbed, or if the humans are in danger. Safety is much more important than freedom because we'd prefer to be alive than to have freedom and then death. Gingerbread men that do make it out don't make it very far. If they do make it out of the humans' home, they face a much tougher battle: the wild. There is dirt, and mud, and grass, oh my! No to mention all of the dangerous creatures! Gingerbread explorers don't usually make it more than a few steps before being slaughtered. So, while you may say that I'm not living my life to the fullest, I am one of the happiest people I know. I was baked in a good house, and I have lived for many years without losing my soul (gumdrop buttons). I do have one thing that makes my life free, and that's my family. They will always be there for me, and while I cannot always control the freedom or safety that I have in my jar, I can always count on my family for being there for me no matter what.

Edible Grade School

I'd like to preface this by saying that we only have 3 years of schooling because of our short lifespan. Yet, a lot can happen in three years. One kid went from an innocent little gingerkid to a full-fledged owner of a ginger cartel where he dealt ginger drugs (yikes!). Others went on to become the Albert Gingerstein's, and Martin Ginger King Jr's of our society. Nonetheless, here's my experience of the three years that apparently make or break your life. 

                                                 First Year
I was a very awkward gingerchild. My accessories were not fully applied yet, so I ended up with contrasting gumdrop buttons and uneven frosting eyebrows. I was a frosting criminal. Of course kids are naturally awkward their first year, but I was one of the worst. Many spicy gingerkids considered me "Ginger ready to snap." I was teased, crumbled, and soggy because kids spilled milk on me (I know they say don't cry over spilled milk, but I did because it was spilled on me!). 


                                                                    Second Year
Nothing really happened second year. Humans almost ate my lab partner, but that's a commonality in our society. They put all of the awkward teachers in second year classes. Mine smelled like nutmeg instead of ginger; it was the worst year of my life. 

                                                Third Year
Everything turned around third year. I finally had a teacher that smelled right, all my frosting applications were applied, and my parents were proud of me, something that almost never happens! I made it. Who knew that the least of my problems were behind me?! Although after a cookie lair in Lord Farquaad's castle and an ogre-infested swamp, I am very grateful for my small ginger-school that made me a stronger, tougher, crunchier, pastry! 

Gingerly, 
Gingy 

Mature-free Americans

Gingerbread men are often unavailable to interact with people who have food allergies. It is very hard to incorporate different ingredients to fit the abstract needs of allergies. Nonetheless, there are some sugar-free, and low-fat gingerbread out there. I've even met a dairy free gingerbread man; it was incredible to hear his story (He was on Ellen DeGingerous last week). But with the advent of healthy food, gingerbread minorities have become more prevalent. What a lot of Americans fail to realize is the fact that calories aren't the only thing that matters in a food. The fat content could increase cholesterol, the amount of sugar often affects behavior after the meal too. This political cartoon is bringing attention to the fact that most humans only judge a food's nutritional value on the calorie count. Often if humans are going to splurge on junk food, they do not care about the sugar content; when, in actuality, sugar can make more break the after-dessert attitude. For example, I contain a high sugar content, so after people eat my peers they tend to have a brief sugar high and then crash. Another purpose of this cartoon is to expose the growing population of obese humans. Many Americans fail to see the depth in nutrition facts. But if they want to be as healthy as gingerbread men, they should stop taking only calories into account, and focus on the realm of nutritional needs.

Gingerly,
Gingy

The Gingerbread Graveyard

Becoming more and more common to gingerbread societies worldwide is the gingerbread graveyard. The gingerbread graveyards are sets of individually wrapped gingerbread men like the one pictured below. 

Yes, it is pleasing to the human eye, and easy for human parties, but think about the waste. Each of us must be individually wrapped in cellophane bags instead of all piled on one plate. Each of us need our own ribbon bow instead of a plain plastic covering. And sure it looks like we're smiling, but deep down we're heartbroken. Our first and last hours are spent away from our family because we have no access to them. Even when we managed to wiggle around to other family members in our cellophane cage, we cannot really touch each other because of the wrapping. The worst part of the cage is the breathing. Yes, gingerbread men do breathe people! The amount of air is very limited, and if we are in the cage for more than an hour, some men and women start seeing things. It is a horrible conundrum that is not necessary to either society. Think about the harmful waste you are doing to our world, the gingerbread people are not the only ones who suffer! Humans will suffer from this in the longer term! So, stop creating a cellophane jungle, and start appreciating the luscious jungles that actually better our society. 

Gingerly,
Gingy

The Gingerbread in the World Trade Center

It shows a sad frosting face on a helpless porcelain plate. The Lone Ranger of our society experienced the madness. Nutmeg was his name. He was in the World Trade Center on 9/11. The footage still plays in ginger living rooms every year; regular screenings are done for adults. The fire burns the TV like it was yesterday. Nutmeg was the Jeanette Walls of our society; he grew up in a rough neighborhood, but turned his life around by moving away and writing a memoir. Growing up in casinos, Nutmeg never had a normal childhood. That was the magical part about him; he was never known for profiling gingerbread people. He saw uniqueness in all of us. Some were devastated by Nutmeg's loss, while others might say that it was his time, being four-years-old and all. However, his memory will live on, not only in the videotape that plays yearly to remind us of the horrors, but in our hearts, where his kindness will be replayed forever. That's the thing I think humans have trouble understanding, that there is always more to the story behind the screen. 

Gingerly, 
Gingy

The Gingerbread Winds

People may not think so, but the gingerbread society is greatly affected by weather patterns. We usually are much quicker at predicting weather around the globe. We are also deeply affected by weather, emotionally, psychologically, and physically. Let's start with summer. Summer is hard for us, due to the fact that not many humans crave a warm gingerbread cookie. Those who were baked in Spring often fall ill or go stale during summer, leaving us nearly extinct. We always know when fall is coming because we smell a part of us-cinnamon- roasting throughout our building. If we are placed next to one of these wax fire things, our frosting often melts. The parents cry. The gumdrop buttons fall. Winter is welcoming season for us gingerpeople. We consider ourselves the dominant species on Earth at this time. I was born in winter, so we also get to celebrate my birthday (yippee)! Spring is when the doctor's are most busy. Humans are always trying this whole "I'm gonna be skinny this year" thing, so ginger people are often ripped in half-literally. "The Los Angelos Notebook" claims that humans know when the Santa Ana winds are coming, but please, us gingerpeople really predict when it's coming. People eat weather gingerbread men and then call themselves meteorologists. How rude! So next time you wonder where your intelligence comes from, you may not have to even look past your cookie jar.

Gingerly,
Gingy

Consider the Gingerbread Man

I'm going to preface this by saying that yes, we are a delicious society. We go great with milk when we're fresh out of the oven. We are sweet and spicy and warm and smiling. The fresh frosting applied to us contrasts the spices, cleansing the palette in a sweet way. We are shaped just like you are, bringing a friendly and playful feelings to your eating experience.
               However, when you, or your kids, bite into us, we experience tremendous pain. Our lives flash before our own eyes. We know we only have a few seconds left, and yet we cannot say goodbye to anyone. Our gumdrop buttons are usually the first to go, which are the most painful. How would it feel if we ripped your toes off before diving into a fresh slice of you?!? It's usually better if you eat our heads first. The worst is over, and we don't have any feelings left to comprehend the pain. And think about the funeral process we have to go through. There's no body!! We cannot pay proper respects because we only have a few crumbs(if any) to remember our family by. The sadness, the hardships, the endless stream of frosting tears! So, before thinking of all the crunchy goodness we provide your family with, consider the gingerbread man who works tirelessly only to have a long, painful death apart from their family.

Gingerly,
Gingy

P.S. My life once flashed before my eyes, and it was even caught on video! Here's the link to get a full background on my life: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTQ-bt5IA3I

Gingerbread MAN

When Gingerpeople come out of the oven, we are gender neutral. We are not given a specified gender until our frosting is applied. (And let us pray that we are frosted by an adult because kids are usually the culprits of creating ugly gingerbread.) I was never given a gender-specific frosting, but I have always been classified as a man. People always classified me as a man because of my plain look. All gingerbread women had elaborate clothes, with lots of frosting details. Men, on the other hand, had very plain white frosting outlines, if at all. So, I was classified as a gingerbread man because of stereotyping. This situation reminds me of the piece "Black Men and Public Space," because although I have no major effect on my society, I am stereotyped in it. I have to take care of my family because I am a man. I have to fix up our home when the table and chairs crack, because I am a man. And I have to be called a man everyday when I just want to be called Gingy. My family is looking up to me to be the man, but I just want to be me. As a man who has fought society to be myself, I can truly say that the best thing to be is yourself. 

Gingerly, 
Gingy

Sugar, Eggs, Flour, DNA

My father and I were never close. We were strictly related by containing the same ingredients and being mixed in the same bowl. Some call this batter, but to us gingerpeople, it is DNA. The exact ingredient makeup, measurements, oven temperature, and setting is what differentiates us from gingerbread in Africa. But I digress, my father and I always saw the world differently. He viewed life in a cookie jar as depressing, corrupt, and confining, while I saw our cookie jar as home, a place where we could celebrate our short lifespans by becoming close to one another. I read Vowell's piece to seek insight on what human relationships are like, and much like how Vowell became closer to her dad later in life, I grew much closer to my dad in his last few days with us. We argued so much about the definition of happiness, we discovered that we make ourselves happy by being together. Unfortunately, our happiness didn't last long, we knew his time was coming when a human came home from school hungry. We had to say very quick goodbyes. I was last, and when I hugged him he whispered, "never frost the wrong side of a cookie." I knew that he meant to say be kind, but he but his own cynical twist on it as usual, that made me smirk for what would be the last time. I miss my dad more and more everyday, but he left me one of his crumbs. And one day, I am going to eat that crumb and become the grown gingerbread my dad would have wanted. 

Gingerly, 
Gingy 

How the World sees a Gingerbread Man

As a Gingerbread man, I feel that I am wrongly portrayed in the media. People relish chewing me up into oblivion, when really they do not understand that we are being taken out of the universe for good. You probably didn't realize that gingerbread men who are actors have a very short lifespan. In reference to Mairs's piece, "Disability," the media wrongly portrays people with MS, just like the media depicts gingerbread men as food that will die for anything. Much like how the media conveys having MS as a kind of super power for attracting sultry doctors, gingerbread men are portrayed as being happy to die for the cause of pleasing humans. Talk about the corruption! 
 
In this picture, you see on of my own dying so that his family can use his salary. The gingerbread man does have a smile on his face, but I can assure you it is merely by force. Why would we want to die to make a race that we don't even know happy? Just like Mairs, our people have been wrongly portrayed to make it seem like having MS, or in our case dying, is a noble, and great thing. I hope this gives you something to think about as Christmas time approaches and you think about eating one of my friends. Think twice about your actions because you don't know how they will affect others. 

Gingerly,
Gingy