Tag: self knowledge

First Semester Gone Right

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I was scared to death when my parents and I drove up to Burns Hall on August 14th. I knew there was no way I could handle this whole “college” thing. I had left my friends, boyfriend, family, my home, everything six hours away back in Atlanta. I’m from Atlanta, a huge city with something going on every night, and now I am being dumped in Oxford, Mississippi, where if you’ve seen Jackson Avenue, you’ve seen it all. I was so scared of failure, but could feel it coming. Would I have to move back home? Would my parents hate me? I remember just praying that God could get me through fall semester.

I remember walking into my dorm room, Burns 102, and meeting my new roommate. But now she is no longer just my roommate, she is my best friend. I remember meeting the kids in my FASTrack cohort. But now they are no longer just classmates, they are the people who get me through the day. I remember seeing my writing professor for the first time, but now she is no longer just my professor, she is someone I can always count on to have my back. I loved it here. I had found my new home and suddenly Atlanta became a memory, a memory that I loved and cherished, but did not yearn for. Everything seemed to be falling into place. It only took a few weeks for me to decide that God had answered my prayers and not only was I going to get through the semester, I was going to enjoy doing it.

But then I got a call. A call that will forever be imprinted into my memory. A call that changed my life. A call from my dad. A call saying my grandmother was in the hospital. A call saying my grandmother probably would never wake up. I threw everything I had in a bag and took off, driving at least 90mph down the highway to get to the Baptist Medical Center in Birmingham. The next day, upon seeing and hearing the heartbeat machine that was hooked up to my best friend flat line, a sound and image I will never forget, my heart was broken. All my doubts about college and making it out on top reappeared. Suddenly all my praises about Oxford vanished as quickly as they appeared. There was nothing else to do, but keep praying.

I came back to school lost and confused. I couldn’t eat or sleep, much less focus on my classes. I thought there was no way I was going to make it to December. And then my roommate brought me to Chi Alpha. A Christian ministry on campus to whom I now owe everything to. A Christian ministry on campus that changed my life. A Christian ministry on campus that I couldn’t live without. Chi Alpha helped me in ways I could have never imagined. I got back on track with school. I became able to cope with the hole in my family. I was going to be able to pass fall semester with flying colors. God had answered my prayers yet again.

We now approach the end of the semester. Finals week is upon us and I am ready. I will end this semester with a 4.0 and I know my grandmother would be so proud. I have a new home, and new friends, an amazing support system in Atlanta, and nothing but joy in my heart. So what’s the key to college? Just keep praying.

 

**EDHE final paper**

It’s Not the Journey, It’s What You Learn Along the Way

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Upon entering college I didn’t know what kind of academic I would become. Would I be the “C’s get degrees” type, or the “Nothing less than a 4.0 will do” type? But honestly I felt it was going to be the former. But I learned so much. I gained knowledge about rhetoric, ethos, pathos, logos, synthesizing pieces, and argument papers. I gained knowledge on racial issues in America, what it means to protest, and the dangers the Syrian people are in. Most importantly though, I gained knowledge about myself. Who I am, what I wish to accomplish, and what I am capable of. The quest of conquering my first semester, like any great quest, ultimately led to self-knowledge.

This class challenged me in ways I have never been challenged before. I was pushed to break boundaries and write styles that I have never even heard of. When we got the first assignment my thought was “you’ve got to be kidding me,” I had never done a synthesis piece before. And oh, how I hated doing those kernel essays. But after reflecting on the unit, I wrote “when it came time to write the final paper, it became so clear why we did all the kernel essays.” This taught me that just like in basketball where you have to practice all summer even though your season doesn’t start until November, as an academic striving for excellence, you have to do the preseason conditioning so that during the first game (paper) you aren’t gasping for breath.

This class opened my mind in ways it had never been opened before. As a moderate republican, reading articles from the New York Times is not something I would consider my cup of tea. kermitAnd when we looked at the students of Ole Miss protesting against a comment on Facebook I wrote ”America needs to grow up…why don’t we look up racist comments on social media and hold a protest against every single person, black or white, who has ever said anything racist?” And to a certain extent, I still believe in what I wrote, but Mrs. Buckley left a comment on this post, she said “do you think bringing attention to it has taught university students a lesson they wouldn’t have learned without this event?” Well I never looked at it that way. Students became more aware of the fact that the stuff they say on social media has an effect on the world. The stuff we say can’t and won’t disappear. They stuff we say can and will be seen by anyone who wants to see it. And if a protest is what kids needs to realize that, so be it.

But most importantly, this class, along with the others taken during the semester, gave me the self knowledge that I am the “Nothing less than a 4.0 will do” type. I learned that as a student I don’t want to accept anything less than perfection, but as a realist I also learned that having some shitty first drafts is okay. This semester included stupid classes (**cough** EDHE **cough**), even stupider teachers (**cough EDHE teacher **cough**), and the loss of one of my best friends who happened to be related to me, and I would say those are all pretty shitty first drafts of college, but I can see the potential the next four years have, or maybe even five because “there are worse places [I] could be than the University of Mississippi for [an extra] year. Like jail. Or worse- Starkville.”eff-ms-st

 

Thoughts with Ambs

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The HARDEST part about this project with the word maximum. Taking out all of the fluff and just getting to the point isn’t something we are told to do often. However, it was refreshing; just being able to type exactly what I mean and feel about the subject without having to politically correct or set up too much background information was really kind of fun. I also really enjoyed having to make a website. I think I will continue to write and post on it throughout my college career.

Buckley for President 2016

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I wonder how the election would be different if Trump and Clinton spoke in the debates the way the women in Nevada spoke to each other.

I would not call myself a Trump supporter, but I will be voting for Trump come November 8th. I wouldn’t say I am embarrassed to say I am voting for him, but I also don’t overly advertise it. My reasons for voting for Trump are sound and justifiable to me, as I am sure Hilary supporters have reasons that are sound and justifiable to them. I do not shy away from election conversations with peers, however. Most disagree with my views, but usually at the end we can agree that they both suck, just who sucks less is different in everyone’s mind. Last night in study group, however, we had a non-regular join us in the study room. He randomly sparked a conversation about the future White House with saying “No one in here is supporting Trump, right?” I looked around and then raised my hand. He stared at me and somewhat scoffed. He asked me why and how I could possibly do that. Except he didn’t want to know why or how, he was only interested in telling me how and why he was voting for Hilary. The conversation didn’t go on long, and I feel like any other controversial topic with him won’t either.

But at the end of the day, I am voting Buckley.

Unit Reflection #2

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What even is a rhetorical analysis? Why are we doing this? Can I just not? All are thoughts I was thinking with the introduction of this unit. We did rhetorical papers in high school, but all I remember is that a “writer does not use ethos/pathos/logos, the writer appeals to ethos/pathos/logos” (random AP teacher junior year). Can I write a paper on uses vs. appeals to? How do I even choice a column? What the heck Mrs. B.

Picking an article was the hardest part. To find something you were interested in, written in a way that you could critique, and somewhat enjoyed was not an easy task. I really did not want to do anything on the election so that narrowed my choices down quite a bit. Once I picked my article I become somewhat immersed into it. My article was about what the human population was doing to our Earth. Friedman argued that without drastic action, and soon, the world as we know it will cease to exist. I started pointing out things in my everyday life that related to the article: the gas you see come out of the exhaust of the OUT busses, plastic in the trash can instead of the recycle bin, and news about another endangered species getting closer to extinction.  Unfortunately, the analysis had to be on “rhetoric”… whatever that is.

Rhetoric. The more you say it, the weirder it sounds. Regardless, I still had no idea what it meant. Ethos, pathos, and logos are words I have heard time and time again, but it is so hard to remember which one is which. I finally got it drilled into my head that ethos is credibility, logos is logic, and pathos is emotions. I always thought my problem was mixing them up, but even when I knew which was which, it was sometimes still hard to distinguish if the writer was using ethos or logos. Even after distinguishing between different rhetoric techniques it still became difficult to add in the commentary part of the paper. What do I say? Comment on what? He’s the writer, not me. I was not feeling confident at all in the paper, but the post review email made me feel much better and give me the strength to finish strong. Or at least I hope it was strong…

I think the two most helpful parts of the unit were the introduction gallery walk and an in depth editing session with my sister. I did not get too much feedback from peers, but reading other students’ papers really helped me. I saw a lot of techniques that I liked and would not have thought of. The weekend before the paper was due, I went to my sister’s house and she ripped it apart. I figured the process would be discouraging, but instead it was uplifting because I felt the progress we were making.

All in all I actually really enjoyed the unit. I feel now when I read articles I can look at it in a more academic way and critique it in a more profession and scholarly manner. And I feel like “claim -> evidence -> commentary “ will be forever imprinted into my brain.

Synthesizing Life

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At the beginning of this unit I was confused about the term “synthesis”. I had never really heard it before, or maybe I did, but didn’t know what it meant so I just breezed over it. I came to learn the word to mean connecting two pieces of literature in a way that not only compares, but explains the significance of the comparison. Later we learned, we could relate an article with a video. Pretty cool. But last week I learned I could relate an article, or video, with my life. I began to synthesis the passing of my grandmother with the passing of Frank’s dad, even though that was never an assignment. I saw things differently and used Frank’s struggle with identity after the loss of his parents to help me with my own personal struggles. I’ve never met Frank Snake Church, but if I did tomorrow, I would thank him for helping me cope with my current family situation.

To be honest, I was getting annoyed at the beginning of the unit with the kernel essays. It crossed my mind to drop out of college once or twice. But, when it came time to write the final paper, it became so clear why we did all the kernel essays. I would say writing those were the most helpful in preparing me for the turning in of my synthesis paper. Without those I feel like I would have been lost on where to even start my paper.

I didn’t really have a writing partner due to being absent from class, but I used Alexie as a writing partner and reviewed his work to better mine. When Alexie became too silent (get it? because books can’t talk), Kaitlin helped me a lot in the peer review. I feel she wasn’t totally harsh enough however, which was good for my self esteem, but I’m not sure as good for my paper. Also, having a teacher that cared enough to go on my google doc and make comments and help me better my paper meant the world to me. I loved being reassured I was on the right path, but being pushed to dig a little deeper.

Take aways? Assignments have value that you may not see right away, but will reveal themselves eventually. The power of peer editing is something not to be taken lightly as it could lead to something wonderful. Turns out that what we learn in college, really does have real life appeal. Don’t take anything for granted. Remember to tell your loved ones you love them, no matter how much you think they already know, because you never know when you won’t be able to anymore. But some of these may not be writing related…..

Ironic, Isn’t It?

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Death provides an interesting insight into a new perspective of life. On one hand, you are devastated and crushed by the loss of a loved one, but on the other it is somewhat of a relief to know that one day the pain and suffering will end.  Burying my grandmother today was a whirlwind of emotions. I want so badly to be angry and upset with God, but scripture and Christian music are the only things keeping me sane as of now. Ironic, isn’t it? My grandmother had a disease in which the veins in her legs were unable to pump the blood back up to her heart which resulted in blood pooling in her legs. This led to sores that eventually became infectious. The medicine she took for the sores made her extremely sick, and the medicine she took for the sickness made her kidney fail, and the medicine she took for her kidney made her lungs close up, and the cycle continued. Ever think medicine has advanced too much for our own good? Ironic, isn’t it? A long, sad story short: my grandmother was on life support and given only a few hours to live, but her heart was so strong she made it 36 hours before we saw her heart rate hit zero. My dad says she knew what she was doing, and simply did not want to pick between my sister (a UA grad) and me this weekend during the Ole Miss – Alabama game. My dad always knows the right things to say. It’s hard to think about her not being there for my college graduation or my wedding or anything like that, but I know it’s selfish for those to be the things on my mind. Between the tears today at the graveside service, I saw my grandfather’s tombstone for the first time in 10 years. I think it is kind of morbid to visit cemeteries, and thus never went to visit him after his burial in 2006. As heart wrenching as it was to see Granny in a box, there was also a sense of peace that rushed over me when I got to see my grandparents side by side again. Ironic, isn’t it? I am positive I could use a 15 letter word to describe how I am feeling, but nothing seems as appropriate as sad. Just plain sad. When you die, you don’t get to take anything with you. So everything tangible she worked for for the past 71 years disappears. However, even though she is gone, I know she has touched my heart in a way that will last forever and thus makes her immortal. So maybe the only point of living is to impact the lives of others before you die. Ironic, isn’t it?

The “Catch”

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Before when I thought about going to college there were so many things I wanted to do. I wanted to explore, experiment, make new friends, life long friends, go to parties, go to football games, drive to Taco Bell at 3am just because my mom wasn’t there to tell me no. Few of the dreams I had about college included class. Class was kind of the “catch”, if you will, of going to college. Then when I got here, my mindset completely flipped. I went to class, went to the dorm and studied for hours on end, went to bed around 12 and then got up and started it all over again. I went to one party and suddenly wondered why that had been what I was looking forward to this whole time. But with the events of the past week I think I learned, more than ever before, the need for balance. 99.9% of the time, class is a must, but maybe playing hookie (or hooky?) one day wouldn’t hurt. Even though I was so excited about leaving home and being six hours away from Mom and Dad, perhaps taking my homework on the road so I could sit on their couch and study instead of mine would be okay. I think the most important part of college is growing as a person and I thought the best way to do that was on my own, but my family helped me grow this far, might as well keep them around for a little longer. As far as football games? Yeah, they’re still top priority. So what’s the real catch you ask? Learning to balance all the things there are to do and accepting the decisions you make, and that’s something no class, nor party will ever teach you.

 

PS: I know that EDHE is supposed to teach us balance and time management and all that crap, but that is the worst class I have ever experienced and if and when I skip class, it will be that one.

“Dream Catchers”

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I think I am going to write on option four. I ruled out number three because I am white and do not romanticize Native Americans and I am not sure I even understand what Corliss means when she says that. Prompt two is a touchy subject for me since my boyfriend is African American and my dad does not approve of our relationship and therefore I don’t want my paper to get too opinionated and focused on my specific situation instead of the United States as a whole. I really like both the first and last prompts. The first however, focuses on quests, which includes my personal quest, but quests imply a gain of self knowledge at the end and I have yet to reach the end of my quest and therefore lack the quest-enlightened self knowledge and would rather write on this prompt at the end of senior year perhaps. The final choice instructs me to write on what it means to be college-educated, and with the passing of my grandmother today I am already starting to realize I am learning a lot more in college than book smarts. I am concerned simply about writing my first real college paper and relating all three elements(Ten Little Indians, Dream Catchers video, and my own person testimony) in a cohesive manner that flows properly.

Drunk Chronicles

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11:32pm. I’m in my bed. My roommate is in bed. With PJ’s on and make up off we were settled in for a a good night’s rest after a day of what seemed like impossible tasks. Her phone rings.

“Hello?”

I can’t hear the other end of the conversation, but I had a pretty good idea who it was.

“Yeah, we’ll be there in a second.”

The infamous late night, drunk call from the square by our two favorites: Avery and Alex.

“They need a ride, you going?”

We jump out of bed, which I mean quite literally since neither of our 5 foot selves can reach the floor while from the bed. PJs off, shoes on, we head out. The CA’s at the front desk give us questioning looks as we exit the building, but we dodge their fire and begin the five minute journey to the square. We arrive at our usual meeting spot, the parking space right in front of Rooster’s and wait for the boys to stumble, literally stumble, into the car. Backing out of the parking spot may be the hardest part as every one feels they have more important places to be than you. We eventually find ourselves on the path to take our friends home. We see flashlights in the distance. We approach men in uniform. They knock on the window.

“License, please”

I pull out my license out and allow him to speculate if it’s valid or not. I’m sure he’s used to fakes. He asked a few questions and allowed me drive away, slowly and carefully of course. The boys were hungry. We pulled up to Cook Out and laughed as the drunken boys tried to spill their orders out. Fed and happy, we drove them to their apartment and watched them attempt to get up the stairs to their second floor oasis.

“Never a dull moment with them, huh?” said Mary Catherine.

“I don’t think drinking is for me.”