Writing this paper was possibly one of the most stressful experiences I have had this semester. I have always enjoyed writing and consider myself fairly good at it, so the pressure to write a "good" paper was high. There was also the added personal expectation that I placed upon myself because my dad is an author. All of those factors combined with my being a perfectionist made this paper difficult to write.
As far as process is concerned, I lack one. The only thing that I require to sit down and write is a block of time without distractions and a basic idea. I write the way I think, in a conversational tone. My fingers form the words that come into my head and little thought is given beyond that. This has served me very well in the past but due to our use of the templates in the book and text sources had to make routine stops in my work to add them in, interrupting the rhythm that inevitably develops when I write.
The requirements hindered my progress, as well as my own trepidation in writing a college-worthy piece. I really am a perfectionist and have very high expectations for myself and my work. (I am still nervous about the piece and the grade it will receive)
What helped me finish this paper was the wonderful feedback I got in the writing center (apparently a thesis is supposed to be only one sentence) and a lot of The Black Keys music. My organization in the paper improved a great deal and I was able to formulate and stronger argument with clearer points. I received help with the parts of academic writing I most often struggle with and thus created a better product. (I can now say confidently that I can organize a paper as well as I can organize a dorm room. Which is saying a lot because I love organizing.) While I was hesitant to seek help from the writing center at first, because I did not want it to look like I "needed" the help, I am grateful that I did end up going. I highly recommend going to the writing center for future papers and will be frequenting their services often!
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Education
Education motivates millions of students each year. Education is an important part of every politician's platform. Education is a privilege not granted to every child that deserves it. Education is costing me thirteen thousand dollars a year. Poor Education nearly made me give up on the whole institution altogether. The promise of a great Education kept me going.
I went to Warren Hills Regional High School in Washington, New Jersey. It was a reasonably sized school, one that serviced eight different towns yet had very little diversity. Seven of the eight towns in my school district consisted of farmland, the last one housed several "rough" neighborhoods and kids that your parents wouldn't want you to play with. Warren Hills was a school made for white, male athletes (preferably football) who had no real aspirations to leave Washington or go to college. It did not matter how much money you had or which of the eight towns you were from, what mattered was how well you could blend in with what was deemed "normal". I was the exception to every stereotype that the school tried to place on me. I relished in the "otherness" that was me during my awkward teens. I was loved by the teachers because I spoke up in class discussions and was able to make them laugh with my often biting, sarcastic wit. I did not have a set group of friends. The more I grew up, the more determined I was to leave my small-minded home town. It was ten that I realized that I had little in common with the students around me.
My high school, according to Jean Anyon, would be dubbed "Working Class". We were taught in a highly mechanical fashion, and it was rare to find a teacher that didn't insult your intelligence or immediately put you to sleep. We were given the basics of whatever subject was assigned by the totalitarian administration and not much else. The broader concepts were never addressed. As students we never got to question why something occurred or how. We were simply expected to blindly accept whatever the teacher's spat out at us. And if we didn't understand the material, asking for help was not discouraged, but it was not proved either.
I remember being told once by a teacher in my AP US History class that I was too passionate and that I needed to tamper my creativity and exercise control in my writing. I was writing a response to one of Susan B. Anthony's feminist essays, and I was proud of the words that i'd put onto paper. But, my teacher Mr. O'Brian didn't share my enthusiasm. It was one of those moments that seem insignificant to anyone else but you. I have never altered anything I have ever said to make other people more comfortable. That was what my high school was like. Choking the intellectual, creative lifeblood of the more artistic students so that the majority could breathe easy. After spending my whole life in this school system, it motivated me to find my passion, art, and hold onto it. I am determined not to let anyone stop me or change me.
Say what you want about Warren Hills, but it gave me an out--and helped me get accepted to Cedar Crest. I may not have gone to the football games or been a "Blue Streak" but, I can love my school for getting me to college at least.
I went to Warren Hills Regional High School in Washington, New Jersey. It was a reasonably sized school, one that serviced eight different towns yet had very little diversity. Seven of the eight towns in my school district consisted of farmland, the last one housed several "rough" neighborhoods and kids that your parents wouldn't want you to play with. Warren Hills was a school made for white, male athletes (preferably football) who had no real aspirations to leave Washington or go to college. It did not matter how much money you had or which of the eight towns you were from, what mattered was how well you could blend in with what was deemed "normal". I was the exception to every stereotype that the school tried to place on me. I relished in the "otherness" that was me during my awkward teens. I was loved by the teachers because I spoke up in class discussions and was able to make them laugh with my often biting, sarcastic wit. I did not have a set group of friends. The more I grew up, the more determined I was to leave my small-minded home town. It was ten that I realized that I had little in common with the students around me.
My high school, according to Jean Anyon, would be dubbed "Working Class". We were taught in a highly mechanical fashion, and it was rare to find a teacher that didn't insult your intelligence or immediately put you to sleep. We were given the basics of whatever subject was assigned by the totalitarian administration and not much else. The broader concepts were never addressed. As students we never got to question why something occurred or how. We were simply expected to blindly accept whatever the teacher's spat out at us. And if we didn't understand the material, asking for help was not discouraged, but it was not proved either.
I remember being told once by a teacher in my AP US History class that I was too passionate and that I needed to tamper my creativity and exercise control in my writing. I was writing a response to one of Susan B. Anthony's feminist essays, and I was proud of the words that i'd put onto paper. But, my teacher Mr. O'Brian didn't share my enthusiasm. It was one of those moments that seem insignificant to anyone else but you. I have never altered anything I have ever said to make other people more comfortable. That was what my high school was like. Choking the intellectual, creative lifeblood of the more artistic students so that the majority could breathe easy. After spending my whole life in this school system, it motivated me to find my passion, art, and hold onto it. I am determined not to let anyone stop me or change me.
Say what you want about Warren Hills, but it gave me an out--and helped me get accepted to Cedar Crest. I may not have gone to the football games or been a "Blue Streak" but, I can love my school for getting me to college at least.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Her Words are like Water
Polarity. A beautiful, yet scientific term.
According to the dictionary Polarity is: the presence or manifestation of two opposite or contrasting principles or tendencies.
I love this word. I love what it stands for.
Another word I love is equilibrium. Which is:
a state of rest or balance due to the equal action of opposing forces, the equal balance between any powers, influences, etc.; equality of effect and/or mental or emotional balance
The other day, I met a wonderful individual who exhibited both of these traits. We engaged in a dialogue that was both enlightening and uplifting. It was brief yes, but at the end of the interview process I was so impressed and moved, that writing/dedicating this blog post for her is causing me a small amount of stress and guilt. I want to do her justice, but I do not hope to encapsulate the entirety of a human being in 421 words or less after a 15 minute interview.
Her name is Noalani Hendricks and she is studying Bio-Chemistry and Global Studies. These two fields are so vastly different that I could write about what made her choose them. However, there is always more to people than "their studies" and I wanted to learn more. When I asked about her passion, what moves her? Her response was so unexpected, so poetic and yet so clear--that I was left thinking, how could I have expected anything else? Expectation and foresight were abandoned, and true "oxygen" conversation was breathed in being.
Noalani, with no hesitation, responded that it was anything relating to nature, such as a beautiful forest or crashing waterfall, and the act of overcoming anxiety that moved her.
Throughout our discourse the word overcome kept appearing, this is noteworthy because stagnation was something that I never detected in her. She was to me, as a flowing river. Peaceful with the promise of more underneath, Always moving towards an end, but fully experiencing the journey along the way. She is someone who has the courage to enjoy all that is offered to her, even though it is against 'nature'. Because there is exciting in the unknown. Sitting next to her, scratching down words and phrases onto a notepad, I was calmed by her presence, by her soft yet strong voice. Even the choice of her words placed her on a different level, I was talking to someone special, someone enlightened.
In Buddhism, when someone is "enlightened", it means that they have been awakened and thus possess an understanding of the world around them. Any first year college student with the level of self-assurance and balance that she has, is a truly remarkable individual. She is not someone you can simply bump into while grabbing your morning coffee. No, you have to engage and talk and become familiar. Once you do, all you want to do is learn more.
One particular quote of hers really resonated with me,and if I have dictated it wrong, I apologize in advance for trying to paint with words not my own. She told me, "Do what you want to do, but don't be afraid to jump. You must fall into your inner current and connect with yourself, and there is difficulty in that." Yes, it is difficult to do so, but I sense that this is a girl who has searched her soul, a girl who has found something to focus passion on, a destination, or perhaps a beginning for the winding river of her life, she is someone who can find romance in scientific methods. I have never met anyone like her. It was an experience that I will hold with me.
In her blog, Intersectional Feminist Speak, she uses the metaphor of pineapple foam to express her opinions on life and the college experience, " The foam is only a sugary preview of what to expect. The drink can either be a disappointment or even tastier than expected." This can also be applied to her, she is anything but expected, anything but ordinary. She is pineapple foam at the top of one's glass, peaking your interest and leaving you waiting for more. It is good that in that regard, she does not disappoint. (It is always a pleasure to connect with someone willing to disclose)
"The emptiest cans make the loudest noise." These are Noalani's words. I believe that if we are comparing people to cans, the point should be made that it does not matter how much is in the can rather, what we fill them with.
Her words are like water, and I anticipate an opportunity to drink them in again.
Her name is Noalani Hendricks and she is studying Bio-Chemistry and Global Studies. These two fields are so vastly different that I could write about what made her choose them. However, there is always more to people than "their studies" and I wanted to learn more. When I asked about her passion, what moves her? Her response was so unexpected, so poetic and yet so clear--that I was left thinking, how could I have expected anything else? Expectation and foresight were abandoned, and true "oxygen" conversation was breathed in being.
Noalani, with no hesitation, responded that it was anything relating to nature, such as a beautiful forest or crashing waterfall, and the act of overcoming anxiety that moved her.
Throughout our discourse the word overcome kept appearing, this is noteworthy because stagnation was something that I never detected in her. She was to me, as a flowing river. Peaceful with the promise of more underneath, Always moving towards an end, but fully experiencing the journey along the way. She is someone who has the courage to enjoy all that is offered to her, even though it is against 'nature'. Because there is exciting in the unknown. Sitting next to her, scratching down words and phrases onto a notepad, I was calmed by her presence, by her soft yet strong voice. Even the choice of her words placed her on a different level, I was talking to someone special, someone enlightened.
In Buddhism, when someone is "enlightened", it means that they have been awakened and thus possess an understanding of the world around them. Any first year college student with the level of self-assurance and balance that she has, is a truly remarkable individual. She is not someone you can simply bump into while grabbing your morning coffee. No, you have to engage and talk and become familiar. Once you do, all you want to do is learn more.
One particular quote of hers really resonated with me,and if I have dictated it wrong, I apologize in advance for trying to paint with words not my own. She told me, "Do what you want to do, but don't be afraid to jump. You must fall into your inner current and connect with yourself, and there is difficulty in that." Yes, it is difficult to do so, but I sense that this is a girl who has searched her soul, a girl who has found something to focus passion on, a destination, or perhaps a beginning for the winding river of her life, she is someone who can find romance in scientific methods. I have never met anyone like her. It was an experience that I will hold with me.
In her blog, Intersectional Feminist Speak, she uses the metaphor of pineapple foam to express her opinions on life and the college experience, " The foam is only a sugary preview of what to expect. The drink can either be a disappointment or even tastier than expected." This can also be applied to her, she is anything but expected, anything but ordinary. She is pineapple foam at the top of one's glass, peaking your interest and leaving you waiting for more. It is good that in that regard, she does not disappoint. (It is always a pleasure to connect with someone willing to disclose)
"The emptiest cans make the loudest noise." These are Noalani's words. I believe that if we are comparing people to cans, the point should be made that it does not matter how much is in the can rather, what we fill them with.
Her words are like water, and I anticipate an opportunity to drink them in again.
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