I still remember sitting in grade twelve English and the teacher ending the class by saying something like, “For next class I want you to write an essay of five-hundred words (I can’t remember the exact number) based on the word junk”.
I guess the whole class must’ve been a bit surprised by this but we all listened to the teacher and did our homework. The teacher was one of those free-thinking types so I don’t think there was much reasoning why she chose this crackpot idea.
I probably spent a good hour or two of my life writing some nonsense related to this word. I was a fairly ignorant kid back then. I wasn’t into reading the newspaper and my view points on the world were limited beyond belief. I still wonder how I managed to write anything.
The only thing I can recall about the original essay that I wrote was mentioning that the word junk could be pronounced as je-unk or jew-nk. One classmate mentioned that he found this amusing... I guess my taste for the bizarre was evident even back then. Perhaps I was just desperate to write another sentence in an unusual English composition.
Eighteen years later, I’d like to challenge this idea again.
Junk
What exactly is junk? According to the dictionary there are few definitions of junk. One is discarded items that are considered worthless. Another is a slang term that refers to heroin. Then there’s the oily tissue in a sperm whale’s head called junk.
I guess it’s up to me to pick one definition out of these three to make a good quality essay. I’ll go with the easiest one.
Man, there’s too much junk in my house but what others might consider junk might be treasurable items to me.
I’m not a hoarder but I do like to maintain a collection of some sort. I’ve got hundreds of books and hundred of CDs. Would you consider this stuff junk? Probably some of it.
Everyone has different tastes and after one becomes a certain age, there’s no doubt that your definition of junk will gradually change.
When I was a young boy, I’d look at my sister’s music collection (this was back in the cassette tape days) and I probably consider it all junk. I still remember cringing to her singing to Cindy Lauper in the house. Perhaps, this might be the reason why I just can’t absorb lyrics. I experienced some form of trauma listening to this stuff.
Are you a Cindy Lauper fan? I’ll admit that all these years later, I can’t remember any of the songs except for Girl Just Wanna Have Fun (o-u o!). Who knows? My taste may have changed over these years and I might actually enjoy this music now. I don’t think I want to prove this though.
Now after writing all of this, I’m wondering whether music (the actual sound) can be considered junk. The dictionary says that it should be an object, but unless my brain has gone to the moon, I don’t think sound can be an object.
After hearing certain songs or albums, I often say, “What junk!”. I may be doubting whether my spoken English is correct.
Maybe I’ve misunderstood the word junk for all these years.
Well, back to the original theme of this essay.
I’m looking around my room looking for something that might be considered junk. I can’t find anything. I guess when there’s some item that I’ve physically touched and taken into my home, I can’t really consider that junk. The things around me in my room have been invited into this home and it’s oh so hard to say goodbye to anything in here. Perhaps the only way to consider something as junk is for it to be owned by someone else.
We all have certain standards when in comes to all aspects of life. Someone might have a collection of something unusual like used bus tickets or dead insects which I would probably consider to be junk. But to that person, those belongings would be considered to be precious things.
Differences are what makes people unique and special so if someone likes to keep some kind of junk, we should all try to respect that person for doing that.
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Well, I finished writing an essay that makes some sense. I think I ended it on a happy note with a message. You may have already come down to the conclusion that this essay is, well, junk. Maybe I’ll challenge this idea again in another eighteen years.
