Spent this weekend visiting people and saying goodbye before my move to LA.
Nerd Fest ('09?') was a lot of fun. Catherine worries far too much about making a good impression and making sure everyone has a good time. Basically, the evening went really smoothly, and everyone who was in the mood to mesh had a decent time meshing together. I played poker with a gaggle of straight men (who made me feel beyond nelly), did the vodka thing, talked to people about volunteer work, learned about others, told stories, heard an impassioned rant on healthcare advertising, delivered a misleading tweet, made Catie briefly paranoid about my enjoyment level, gave two back massages, and crashed on a couch two feet shorter than my 6.5 foot frame. The next day, we had Chick-Fil-A.
Catie sent me to Rome with some Amish Friendship Bread for K'Fain. This baggie of mush looks like your sending someone a yeast infection. Apparently it's good though.
(Quick side note: Apparently iTunes wants me to be sad right now. We're rocking the Death Cab for Cutie and the Steeltrain. Kathleen loaded me up with new music to shift the balance of my collection towards a more upbeat/higher bpm music. Mostly, I'm pleased with her selections.)
Going up to Rome was weird. I loved getting to just spend chill time with K'Fain and Chris. I haven't gotten the chance to do that in months...when neither of us had stuff that we were supposed to be doing. When nothing bad was happening. When it was just chill. The stress of school was lifted, and personal crises were being resolved left and right. Problem solving.
On the Hill, I don't know what to say. I'll miss Shorter, and I can easily see how I could go back for another year and meld it back into my life. I fit there. I could easily go back. But, it's not a challenge anymore, so I guess that means that I need to move on. I'm too young to plateau, as comfortable as that would be.
I move to LA in about 30 hours. I can't sleep. I feel like I want to throw up. I'm super excited. I'm nervous about my safety. I'm worried about getting robbed. I'm worried about money. I'm worried that people will look down on me for my Southern roots and education. I'm worried that I'll be behind the curve. I'm worried that it's going to suck before it gets awesome.
But it's a challenge, and I don't back down from a challenge.
Showing posts with label Shorter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shorter. Show all posts
College Advising
I have a lot of critiques about Shorter College which, on a long enough timeline, I will air all over this blog. But don't get me wrong: I loved college. When I go back, I'm going to love it some more. It was by far the best four years out of the twenty I've lived, and it doesn't hold a candle to high school. Yet, for all of my praise and all of my critique, something that has proven to be a hassle for so many of my friends was never an issue for me. And that's the subject of today's post: College Advising.
Full confession: I was a double major and for every semester after my initial semester at Shorter, I owned my advising. I registered for classes before meeting with my advisor and I only met with them so they could sign off on my forms. I had done a graduation check-out a class plan before either of them had thought about it.
I had two advisors, so whenever one of them gave me an answer that wasn't going to work for me, I ignored it and went to the other advisor and tried to receive a more favorable response. Also, I often requested blank reforms because both my advisor and I were in a hurry, and I would fill it in with different information than I had admitted (for instance, I used a blank add form to jump from 18 to 26 hours one semester). And everything was good. And everything was fine.
Every semester, I had to go by the Provost's office and smile while he smiled his chilly shark smile at me and asked me how many hours I was taking...I mean, I was managing a paltry 3.9 GPA, so I understand why we each needed to take time out of our busy lives to go through this rigamarole every semester. But whatever.
I understood academic advising so intuitively, that I advised several of my friends and build class plans for them in under twenty minutes based off of a transcript a degree requirement sheet. I understand that professor advisors are busy, but it really isn't that hard...it takes a little time up front, but its nothing once you sit down and work on it. And my advisors tended to be good at this, they just didn't have to be for me.
Contrast this with my friend Elizabeth's story at ABAC: She arrived her first day to register for classes to be told (after she had paid) that her degree program had been cancelled. Or take Ty at GCSU who had all of his summer classes cancelled and most of his department's faculty leave in the same month. Or Mandy at SCAD who have not only pushed her a quarter behind on graduation due to not realizing that a pre-requisite should come before her other classes, but now, she's pushed furhter behind because her summer quarter classes have been cancelled.
For those of you about to enter college or are already enrolled, do the following ASAP:
You know, there are a lot of things I didn't appreciate about Shorter College, but at least my education was never sabotaged by an ineptness in simply trying to get me in classes. At least they're good at that.
Full confession: I was a double major and for every semester after my initial semester at Shorter, I owned my advising. I registered for classes before meeting with my advisor and I only met with them so they could sign off on my forms. I had done a graduation check-out a class plan before either of them had thought about it.
I had two advisors, so whenever one of them gave me an answer that wasn't going to work for me, I ignored it and went to the other advisor and tried to receive a more favorable response. Also, I often requested blank reforms because both my advisor and I were in a hurry, and I would fill it in with different information than I had admitted (for instance, I used a blank add form to jump from 18 to 26 hours one semester). And everything was good. And everything was fine.
Every semester, I had to go by the Provost's office and smile while he smiled his chilly shark smile at me and asked me how many hours I was taking...I mean, I was managing a paltry 3.9 GPA, so I understand why we each needed to take time out of our busy lives to go through this rigamarole every semester. But whatever.
I understood academic advising so intuitively, that I advised several of my friends and build class plans for them in under twenty minutes based off of a transcript a degree requirement sheet. I understand that professor advisors are busy, but it really isn't that hard...it takes a little time up front, but its nothing once you sit down and work on it. And my advisors tended to be good at this, they just didn't have to be for me.
Contrast this with my friend Elizabeth's story at ABAC: She arrived her first day to register for classes to be told (after she had paid) that her degree program had been cancelled. Or take Ty at GCSU who had all of his summer classes cancelled and most of his department's faculty leave in the same month. Or Mandy at SCAD who have not only pushed her a quarter behind on graduation due to not realizing that a pre-requisite should come before her other classes, but now, she's pushed furhter behind because her summer quarter classes have been cancelled.
For those of you about to enter college or are already enrolled, do the following ASAP:
- Plan your own class schedule: no one knows your goals like you do.
- You can do more than your advisor says is full-time: no one ever fell apart at 12-15 hours. Pump it up and get out early. Don't pay for more than you have to.
- Contact your department to get the degree requirement sheet: Course catalogues often have out-dated lists. Check the website and compare it to the class requirement sheet for your entrance year. If they don't match, get an answer from the Registrar's Office before being forced into classes you may not need.
- Keep the plan updated as you move on.
You know, there are a lot of things I didn't appreciate about Shorter College, but at least my education was never sabotaged by an ineptness in simply trying to get me in classes. At least they're good at that.
Last Weekend at Shorter
I keep a drafted blog update where I keep ideas for things to blog about when something interesting doesn't happen over the course of my day. However, I've really got to start getting more specific, because I no longer understand two of the things that I could potentially write about...so, if any of you from my past get what I mean by "Gangs by gender" or "The Castle," please clue me in...because I really have no idea.
Recap of graduation weekend (Warning: Long story coming):
I graduated last Saturday with a BA in English and Theatre, summa cum laude and with honors...there was a lot of symbology happening next to my name on grad day. Anywho, so the night before that, we had Bacchalaureate, which sounds like it would be a lot of fun--it sounds kind of like Bacchanalia, and thus I assumed that we were getting together as a class one last time to have a rocking good time and drink. But sadly, this didn't happen. Which is why I'm glad I took a book. Somehow, it ended up with all of us sitting in the gym listening to some guy give a sermon. His sermon lasted exactly the same length of time that it took me to re-read The House of Yes. I picked the perfect book for this occasion.
Post-Bacchalaureate, the senior theatre class went to Los Portales...there ended up being about twenty of us in the party. However, Nick, William, Trey, and I were the first four to arrive. Big mistake to come to this restaurant. I knew that there was a reason that I always stayed at my beloved Los Palmas. This place was a hate crime waiting to happen. We walked in the front door and everyone stopped and started staring at us. The people who were being cashed out at the register started talking amongst themselves, saying they could take us if it came to it. Finally, we were seated...in the middle of the restaurant. So, now we're four queens feeling threatened, and we're getting eyes from all over the place.
You know, I really forget that homophobia exists until I'm confronted with it. Most people are so cool and understanding...wait, no, that's just the world around myself that I've created, but whatever.
So, I hung around this place for about an hour and a half (even their chips and dip were gross), and then I went out and grabbed wings with Catie, Krystin, Paul, and Chris. Ate a ton of wings. Went home. Packed. Watched the Dollhouse finale. Slept.
Graduation. Yes, I'm sitting on the front row between a girl I went to high school with and Amy Goggins. The speaker offended me by preaching prosperity gospel and by saying that we as a class should go out and "sell ourselves." I got my diploma (just one, despite the two degrees...their both BAs, so the degrees would have look the exact same. I get it...I just don't agree). As my mother tells it:
On her way to get to me, my mother falls down a ravine. I can't say anything to her except, "Did you fall, Dot?" Two black guys help her up. They all go to Gondoliers and I tell them that I'll be there as soon as the theatre grad photo is over. I'm thinking twenty minutes tops.
In the fifty minutes that I was at the Theatre photo, here's what happened:
-I almost lose my hat and robe.
-Stephanie gets a note in a sealed envelope from Audrey. Audrey says read this when you have time. While waiting on people to make it to the green room to get the picture made, Stephanie opens the note, which expresses the general theme that although she has denied it for a while, Audrey does have feelings for Michael (Stephanie's ex-bf from about a year ago). Someone said the word "cheated" and the room lost its shit. I'm not going to weigh in my opinion here (I'm too much of a lady to use that kind of language), but the timing was shit-tastic. Of course one more crisis is how 2009 STD would end its time.
-Got grad gifts from Mr. B and Georgie. Georgie gave me a novel planner...which I'm about to start using. Mr. B gave all the seniors a book about dreams...and he said, as I was hugging him, that he gave me two books. I didn't get two books and I glanced around and saw that Grant had two...no big. I didn't even mention it because I figure that the universe said he needed it more.
-Was an hour late to lunch. My grandmother and Lani were being stoic. They left about ten minutes after I got there because Lani had to be back. My G'ma Dot couldn't stay after the ceremony because her feet were hurting too badly. Extended family was a little low on the gushing pride...which is kind of what I expected and I'm a little whatever about it all. They didn't come to my Capstone show for one reason or another. Which is totally fine...if you didn't want to come, I didn't want you there. But to not understand that that was the night that I graduated and that walking around in the robe was just some pomp and pageantry...you don't get me or what I do at all. So, lunch was okay...I ate a salad and two bites of pasta.
Outside the restaurant, I stopped my family and told them that Trey's family might be at the apartment when we got back. I told them that Trey's family didn't know that Trey was gay. They immediately began laughing. My mother said, "They have to know. Have they met him?" She thought about it for another second and asked, "Where are they from? The moon?" That made my day and has that racheted to the number one spot on quotes from my mother.
We moved me out and I said goodbye to Shorter. Btw, the SM keys got found. Apparently, I gave them to Chris. I must have been drunk or a zombie when this happened, because I have no recollection of this. I mean, they went missing in the middle of my show...if I would have just kept them, I wouldn't have had to take the lid off of the weapons closet to get the gun.
I spent the night with Krystin in the torrential downpour. And that ends this story, because I fear that I'm starting to ramble.
Tomorrow, I promise an honest-to-God reflection on something...today, all I had in me was plot.
Oh, and theatre folken, you might want to take a gander at indiemonos.blogspot.com. I promised you, didn't I?
Recap of graduation weekend (Warning: Long story coming):
I graduated last Saturday with a BA in English and Theatre, summa cum laude and with honors...there was a lot of symbology happening next to my name on grad day. Anywho, so the night before that, we had Bacchalaureate, which sounds like it would be a lot of fun--it sounds kind of like Bacchanalia, and thus I assumed that we were getting together as a class one last time to have a rocking good time and drink. But sadly, this didn't happen. Which is why I'm glad I took a book. Somehow, it ended up with all of us sitting in the gym listening to some guy give a sermon. His sermon lasted exactly the same length of time that it took me to re-read The House of Yes. I picked the perfect book for this occasion.
Post-Bacchalaureate, the senior theatre class went to Los Portales...there ended up being about twenty of us in the party. However, Nick, William, Trey, and I were the first four to arrive. Big mistake to come to this restaurant. I knew that there was a reason that I always stayed at my beloved Los Palmas. This place was a hate crime waiting to happen. We walked in the front door and everyone stopped and started staring at us. The people who were being cashed out at the register started talking amongst themselves, saying they could take us if it came to it. Finally, we were seated...in the middle of the restaurant. So, now we're four queens feeling threatened, and we're getting eyes from all over the place.
You know, I really forget that homophobia exists until I'm confronted with it. Most people are so cool and understanding...wait, no, that's just the world around myself that I've created, but whatever.
So, I hung around this place for about an hour and a half (even their chips and dip were gross), and then I went out and grabbed wings with Catie, Krystin, Paul, and Chris. Ate a ton of wings. Went home. Packed. Watched the Dollhouse finale. Slept.
Graduation. Yes, I'm sitting on the front row between a girl I went to high school with and Amy Goggins. The speaker offended me by preaching prosperity gospel and by saying that we as a class should go out and "sell ourselves." I got my diploma (just one, despite the two degrees...their both BAs, so the degrees would have look the exact same. I get it...I just don't agree). As my mother tells it:
"I was about to start clapping for you when they said 'John McGowan Freeman, summa cum laude,' but before I could, I pulled my hands apart and the room burst into cheers and applause. You have a lot of fans."I spent my time wisely and I'm well-liked (though how the hell that happened, I have no idea). Anywho, at the end of the ceremony, it was raining so they couldn't let us proceed out into the weather. Instead, they circled us around a back way and ended up holding us behind the stage of graduation. To the left of me (seeing as I was like sixth in line) were a line of fire doors that were propped open. I grabbed my regalia to my chest and turned to my friends, "You coming?" and I stormed out the door to look for my family. What were they going to do to me for not following their rules? Not let me graduate? Already done. Take my diploma back? From my cold, dead, rotting fingers. Anywho, I walk up the hill to go find my family...I am literally the only graduate who made it up there for about ten minutes. So, I see all my profs and whatnot.
On her way to get to me, my mother falls down a ravine. I can't say anything to her except, "Did you fall, Dot?" Two black guys help her up. They all go to Gondoliers and I tell them that I'll be there as soon as the theatre grad photo is over. I'm thinking twenty minutes tops.
In the fifty minutes that I was at the Theatre photo, here's what happened:
-I almost lose my hat and robe.
-Stephanie gets a note in a sealed envelope from Audrey. Audrey says read this when you have time. While waiting on people to make it to the green room to get the picture made, Stephanie opens the note, which expresses the general theme that although she has denied it for a while, Audrey does have feelings for Michael (Stephanie's ex-bf from about a year ago). Someone said the word "cheated" and the room lost its shit. I'm not going to weigh in my opinion here (I'm too much of a lady to use that kind of language), but the timing was shit-tastic. Of course one more crisis is how 2009 STD would end its time.
-Got grad gifts from Mr. B and Georgie. Georgie gave me a novel planner...which I'm about to start using. Mr. B gave all the seniors a book about dreams...and he said, as I was hugging him, that he gave me two books. I didn't get two books and I glanced around and saw that Grant had two...no big. I didn't even mention it because I figure that the universe said he needed it more.
-Was an hour late to lunch. My grandmother and Lani were being stoic. They left about ten minutes after I got there because Lani had to be back. My G'ma Dot couldn't stay after the ceremony because her feet were hurting too badly. Extended family was a little low on the gushing pride...which is kind of what I expected and I'm a little whatever about it all. They didn't come to my Capstone show for one reason or another. Which is totally fine...if you didn't want to come, I didn't want you there. But to not understand that that was the night that I graduated and that walking around in the robe was just some pomp and pageantry...you don't get me or what I do at all. So, lunch was okay...I ate a salad and two bites of pasta.
Outside the restaurant, I stopped my family and told them that Trey's family might be at the apartment when we got back. I told them that Trey's family didn't know that Trey was gay. They immediately began laughing. My mother said, "They have to know. Have they met him?" She thought about it for another second and asked, "Where are they from? The moon?" That made my day and has that racheted to the number one spot on quotes from my mother.
We moved me out and I said goodbye to Shorter. Btw, the SM keys got found. Apparently, I gave them to Chris. I must have been drunk or a zombie when this happened, because I have no recollection of this. I mean, they went missing in the middle of my show...if I would have just kept them, I wouldn't have had to take the lid off of the weapons closet to get the gun.
I spent the night with Krystin in the torrential downpour. And that ends this story, because I fear that I'm starting to ramble.
Tomorrow, I promise an honest-to-God reflection on something...today, all I had in me was plot.
Oh, and theatre folken, you might want to take a gander at indiemonos.blogspot.com. I promised you, didn't I?
News that Isn't Swine Flu
If I hear nothing else about swine flu, it will be too soon.
So, to all of my friends out there who don't follow the news but are instead focused merely on panic, here's a brief update on two political events that you probably should have heard about this week:
-Senator Specter (R-PA) switched teams this week. That's right: he's gay. Okay, not really, and I'm sorry I even made that joke...it really is beneath me. Anyway, he did switch teams, making the Senate 57-40-2 (with both Independents caucusing Democrat). Wait, you may be asking yourself, that only adds up to 99. Where's the 100th senator? Remember the parable of the lost lamb? And how that sheperd left the flock of 99 lambs to go find the lost lamb? Well, that's where that senator is, if that lamb were Al Franken, and that lamb was instead wrapped up in a court case, recount, re-recount, another court case, and an appeal that will most likely result in Franken being seated some time this summer. With Franken being seated, Democrats have 60 seats in the Senate (aka a "filibuster-proof" majority). We shall see what happens with this.
-Supreme Court Justice David Souter will retire at the end of the current legislative session. Some people are whining that Obama will pick a liberal justice.
Well...obviously.
Number 1: Souter is a liberal justice. Nominated by HW Bush, this halcyon of conservatism turned out to be pretty blue. So, it doesn't add anything to the liberalism of the court.
Number 2: W Bush nominated two of the most conservative members of the Court. Why shouldn't Obama nominate progressivess?
Number 3: Can we please get another woman? I mean, Ginsberg has got to be lonely.
Other news from my life:
-In six days, I will graduate from Shorter College with a BA in Theatre (Capstone: original work Edgar's Ashes) and a BA in English (Capstone: That's Not What I Wrote, But That's Okay: Film Adaptations of the Work of Tennessee Williams and Its Effect on the American Censorship of Film).
-14 professors of Shorter College will not be returning in the fall. Contact me if you want a full list.
-I'm about to start a new play about how internal duality of religion can destroy someone.
-Words that I had to look up in the dictionary yesterday: Quotidian (occuring everyday), solipsism (belief that the self is the only thing that can be known and reality is an illusion)
So, to all of my friends out there who don't follow the news but are instead focused merely on panic, here's a brief update on two political events that you probably should have heard about this week:
-Senator Specter (R-PA) switched teams this week. That's right: he's gay. Okay, not really, and I'm sorry I even made that joke...it really is beneath me. Anyway, he did switch teams, making the Senate 57-40-2 (with both Independents caucusing Democrat). Wait, you may be asking yourself, that only adds up to 99. Where's the 100th senator? Remember the parable of the lost lamb? And how that sheperd left the flock of 99 lambs to go find the lost lamb? Well, that's where that senator is, if that lamb were Al Franken, and that lamb was instead wrapped up in a court case, recount, re-recount, another court case, and an appeal that will most likely result in Franken being seated some time this summer. With Franken being seated, Democrats have 60 seats in the Senate (aka a "filibuster-proof" majority). We shall see what happens with this.
-Supreme Court Justice David Souter will retire at the end of the current legislative session. Some people are whining that Obama will pick a liberal justice.
Well...obviously.
Number 1: Souter is a liberal justice. Nominated by HW Bush, this halcyon of conservatism turned out to be pretty blue. So, it doesn't add anything to the liberalism of the court.
Number 2: W Bush nominated two of the most conservative members of the Court. Why shouldn't Obama nominate progressivess?
Number 3: Can we please get another woman? I mean, Ginsberg has got to be lonely.
Other news from my life:
-In six days, I will graduate from Shorter College with a BA in Theatre (Capstone: original work Edgar's Ashes) and a BA in English (Capstone: That's Not What I Wrote, But That's Okay: Film Adaptations of the Work of Tennessee Williams and Its Effect on the American Censorship of Film).
-14 professors of Shorter College will not be returning in the fall. Contact me if you want a full list.
-I'm about to start a new play about how internal duality of religion can destroy someone.
-Words that I had to look up in the dictionary yesterday: Quotidian (occuring everyday), solipsism (belief that the self is the only thing that can be known and reality is an illusion)
Ogling
Okay, so i really thought that I wasn't going to update until after my Capstone was done, but I found myself with twenty minutes before Preston and Stephanie's senior show, so I thought that I'd give you something brief to think about.
Starting this past Thursday (the day of Edgar's Ashes), it has been warm in Rome. And by that, I mean Southern warm. Think the upper 80's and lower 90's. My friend Liz from Minnesota has come on record to say the weather is "ungodly" and "awful." She gives it two stars for experimenting but for the experiment falling flat.
Regardless, I deal with the weather as best I can--I throw on khaki cargo shorts, a solid t-shirt, and I finally clean out the pockets of my jackets where my keys, wallet, and phone have resided since mid-October when the air first dropped to 60. I spend as little time outside because my skin has the pale, luminescent glow of a vampire (think a for-real vampire, not a Rice or, even worse, Twilight). So, I dash between buildings and tan by the light of a computer screen as I desperately pound out the last four papers of my undergrad career.
But, in my dashing, I have noticed something: the heat has made Shorter clothing optional. Not full on European-nudist beach, but certainly a good old American beach. Like, a few days ago, I was walking through the front circle, and people were playing Frisbee, everyone shirtless and at least semi-attractive. Now, it would be one thing to do this on a practice field or in front of a dorm, but this is the main lawn of the college. And there have been a lot of tours lately. And I'm not a prude, by any stretch. Here's my problem:
If you're going to strut around without a shirt on, I'm going to stare at you. Especially if you're attractive. If you don't have a good face, then I'll look at your above average chest. I'm not going to perv out on you, but I appreciate beauty. And sometimes, I'm simply over inner beauty. I just want to stare at something hot. Which isn't a problem--I embrace the fact that everyone exists on multiple levels and one of them (that I love, at least) is physical.
Let me put it this way: for once, I'm glad Shorter has so many athletes.
My problem is that good ol' Shorter is conservative as hell. And if I stare too long, I'm going to get harassed. Or hit. So, I can't enjoy the scenery because I don't enjoy the write kind of scenery because I want the bitches with the huge tits in the tiny bikinis to get out of the way so I can look at the guy who's hitting on them.
And that just seems like a tragedy. So, I do the good ol' soft focus business and try not to relive a Lifetime horror story. Because honestly, the weather's too beautiful to bleed or spend it in an ER.
Starting this past Thursday (the day of Edgar's Ashes), it has been warm in Rome. And by that, I mean Southern warm. Think the upper 80's and lower 90's. My friend Liz from Minnesota has come on record to say the weather is "ungodly" and "awful." She gives it two stars for experimenting but for the experiment falling flat.
Regardless, I deal with the weather as best I can--I throw on khaki cargo shorts, a solid t-shirt, and I finally clean out the pockets of my jackets where my keys, wallet, and phone have resided since mid-October when the air first dropped to 60. I spend as little time outside because my skin has the pale, luminescent glow of a vampire (think a for-real vampire, not a Rice or, even worse, Twilight). So, I dash between buildings and tan by the light of a computer screen as I desperately pound out the last four papers of my undergrad career.
But, in my dashing, I have noticed something: the heat has made Shorter clothing optional. Not full on European-nudist beach, but certainly a good old American beach. Like, a few days ago, I was walking through the front circle, and people were playing Frisbee, everyone shirtless and at least semi-attractive. Now, it would be one thing to do this on a practice field or in front of a dorm, but this is the main lawn of the college. And there have been a lot of tours lately. And I'm not a prude, by any stretch. Here's my problem:
If you're going to strut around without a shirt on, I'm going to stare at you. Especially if you're attractive. If you don't have a good face, then I'll look at your above average chest. I'm not going to perv out on you, but I appreciate beauty. And sometimes, I'm simply over inner beauty. I just want to stare at something hot. Which isn't a problem--I embrace the fact that everyone exists on multiple levels and one of them (that I love, at least) is physical.
Let me put it this way: for once, I'm glad Shorter has so many athletes.
My problem is that good ol' Shorter is conservative as hell. And if I stare too long, I'm going to get harassed. Or hit. So, I can't enjoy the scenery because I don't enjoy the write kind of scenery because I want the bitches with the huge tits in the tiny bikinis to get out of the way so I can look at the guy who's hitting on them.
And that just seems like a tragedy. So, I do the good ol' soft focus business and try not to relive a Lifetime horror story. Because honestly, the weather's too beautiful to bleed or spend it in an ER.
Slacktivism
Yesterday, we had an event at Shorter called 1ove (pronounced "one-love") in which people wore black t-shirts that had the name of an issue emblazoned on the back of them along with ubiquitous Verizon slogan "Can you hear me now?" This event was meant to promote awareness of the issues that are currently facing the world.
However, I have several issues with this campaign:
The modern issue is fashionable and faddish, and thus, it is completely removed from actual political and charitable action. If someone can be quickly inspired to try to "change the world" then they will just as easily grow bored when the world proves not quite so easy to change.
Last night, at dinner, someone was wearing one of the "Abortion" -labelled shirts. Now, I know Shorter College, so I knew this girl was probably Pro-Life. So, I started a conversation about abortion at the table with some obvious Pro-Choice folks. And they expressed their views, but in absolutist views. But abortion doesn't have two camps, one for and one against. Instead, this multi-faceted issue poses a lot of questions:
Slacktivism has to go. Do something. But do something that makes a difference in something besides how you feel about yourself.
However, I have several issues with this campaign:
- Awareness is all well and good, but what actually came of yesterday? No money was committed to any cause, no one (to my knowledge) changed their views on a major issue, and no one attempted to actively better the causes that they supported.
- It was supposed to be coupled with a day of silence with the silence only to be broken by discussion of the issue at hand. Few, if any, participated in this aspect of the program. Instead, they ate dinner like they always did, just this time wearing the same shirt as about a hundred other people.
- The issues listed tended to be broad, like "Abortion" or "Cancer" or "Abuse." While I think that all of these things are issues on which one should have a stance (except cancer...who was a pro-cancer stance?), these issues, by simplifying to their overarching themes cheapen the overall message presented therein. More on this below.
- Lastly, people were forced to write their message on their shirt when they received it in the Student Affairs office. However, one of my gay friends was told that he was not allowed to put anything about homosexuality on his shirt. So, basically, this event was meant for your one love, provided that that love isn't someone with the same bits as you.
The modern issue is fashionable and faddish, and thus, it is completely removed from actual political and charitable action. If someone can be quickly inspired to try to "change the world" then they will just as easily grow bored when the world proves not quite so easy to change.
Last night, at dinner, someone was wearing one of the "Abortion" -labelled shirts. Now, I know Shorter College, so I knew this girl was probably Pro-Life. So, I started a conversation about abortion at the table with some obvious Pro-Choice folks. And they expressed their views, but in absolutist views. But abortion doesn't have two camps, one for and one against. Instead, this multi-faceted issue poses a lot of questions:
- When does life begin? Conception? Birth?
- Whose rights are in question: the individual or the family?
- How much say should the government have in the right to abortion?
- Should the government provide abortions as part of healthcare to those that can't afford it (i.e. Medicaid)?
- Should teens be required to tell their parents if they have an abortion?
- Should women be required to tell their inseminating partner if they want to have an abortion?
- What about the morning after pill?
- What about abortion in the case of rape? Incest? Gross birth defects?
- Is it a women's issue? A healthcare issue? A governmental privacy issue?
Slacktivism has to go. Do something. But do something that makes a difference in something besides how you feel about yourself.
I Didn't Give Blood Today
Today, I want to take a brief moment to talk about something that I don't understand and that I have passively taken a stance against. It only affects me about once every two or three months, because that's how often I face this discrimination.
Today, we had a blood drive on campus.
Luckily, I didn't know about it until after dinner...it would have completely ruined my entire day if I had known about it beforehand. You see, I would like to give blood. I have no problem with needles, my veins are very visible (seeing as my skin is like onion leaf pages), and I would like to help the world. On top of that, I love cookies and juice. Further, I've never passed out and I think that the sensation is something that I should have in my past. Giving blood seems a good thing from all of these angles.
But I can't give blood.
The reason I can't give blood is this, from the American Red Cross website. Basically, since I'm a practicing homosexual, I can't offer to save a life through blood donations to the American Red Cross (and many other organizations). This has led to me conflicting views on the Red Cross. On the one hand, I support their world-wide mission, I fully believe in the Red Diamond and all of its subsidiary organizations, I like the third Geneva Accord, I want them to continue doing good work, and I want to help.
But, it's hard to support something when they say carte blanche: "We don't want your help."
I guess maybe the community's money is good enough, but not its soul.
Today, we had a blood drive on campus.
Luckily, I didn't know about it until after dinner...it would have completely ruined my entire day if I had known about it beforehand. You see, I would like to give blood. I have no problem with needles, my veins are very visible (seeing as my skin is like onion leaf pages), and I would like to help the world. On top of that, I love cookies and juice. Further, I've never passed out and I think that the sensation is something that I should have in my past. Giving blood seems a good thing from all of these angles.
But I can't give blood.
The reason I can't give blood is this, from the American Red Cross website. Basically, since I'm a practicing homosexual, I can't offer to save a life through blood donations to the American Red Cross (and many other organizations). This has led to me conflicting views on the Red Cross. On the one hand, I support their world-wide mission, I fully believe in the Red Diamond and all of its subsidiary organizations, I like the third Geneva Accord, I want them to continue doing good work, and I want to help.
But, it's hard to support something when they say carte blanche: "We don't want your help."
I guess maybe the community's money is good enough, but not its soul.
Celebrating Shorter
Yesterday was Celebrate Shorter. It's this campus-wide event where they cancel class to counter-intuitively celebrate student achievement. The fact that it occurs on April Fool's Day isn't lost on me. Basically, the day goes from 9 to 4:30 (about the length of my normal Wednesday), and there are different student-led events around campus at all times to show just how smart and accomplished we all are.
Oh, this is also the day when we get all of the awards.
So, I raked in awards yesterday. I got the "Excellence in Theatre Studies" (three years running, now), "Loue P. Newman Award for Excellence" (Outstanding senior that shows academic strength, leadership, involvement, quest for knowledge, growth in spirituality, etc...basically, the most ultimate senior at Shorter this year), and the "Thelma Hall Creative Writing Award" (best creative writer on campus).
So, two quick stories about Celebrate Shorter and why I think it shows some major issues in my time at Shorter:
1. During the Awards Lunch, I broke one of my cardinal rules of eating at any place that doesn't have assigned seating (I had an assigned table). I sat in the corner seat. This only gives one the possibility of three conversations while an end seat has two and a middle chair has five. The philosophy of always picking a middle chair is that if a conversation gets awkward or stagnates on one side, I can simply turn to the other side and enter whatever they are talking about. But, in the interest of saying as few inappropriate things as possible, I cornered myself. Bad move.
So, when we sat down, salad and cake were already in front of us. Then they brought bread, tea, and water. And we weren't allowed to eat anything until after ALL the awards were given. Wrong answer. Being the classy individual that I am, I ate both the wedges of cheese from my salad and snuck a roll during the athletic awards.
But, anyway, I was sitting across from two upper administration people and I had a professor of mine seated next to me...so, I have to mind my manners around the adults. Which means I can't talk a whole lot. And so they talk...about their lives...and their kids...and the school...and their kids...and then they talk about the kids some more. At one point, the male upper administration asked if he should get his daughter the Disney phone that allows you to check your child's location via GPS and check their phone calls (and I guess texts) from any computer.
They debated this for awhile, and as the conversation was winding down, I said it seemed a little Big Brother. He said it wasn't being Big Brother, it was being a parent. Properly chastised, I shut up. And started wonering what his children's lives must be like.
My parents never felt the need to check up on me. They knew I was a good kid. They trusted me to blaze my own path and if something went wrong, I'd either ask for their help or handle it on my own. If they had tried to micro-manage my life like that, I would have rebelled to another country. I would have ex-patted to a place so distant that it costs too much to call on the telephone. And if this is the kind of attitude that infuses something as simple as a choice of cell phone, then I can only imagine what the rest of the privacy policies of that household are.
Granted, I understand the need to know what is going on in a child's life. But looking over their shoulder is going to make them needy, obsessive-compulsive, and paranoid. Children won't trust their parents with big issues because their parents' have proven themselves untrustworthy. Trust, like respect, for every human being is earned and not something that is naturally instilled. I know that this sounds a bit idiotic, but maybe, just maybe...kids can sometimes take care of themselves.
This reminds me of a Violent Acres post that I read that covers a very similar subject and is worth a look.
Second story in the near future.
Oh, this is also the day when we get all of the awards.
So, I raked in awards yesterday. I got the "Excellence in Theatre Studies" (three years running, now), "Loue P. Newman Award for Excellence" (Outstanding senior that shows academic strength, leadership, involvement, quest for knowledge, growth in spirituality, etc...basically, the most ultimate senior at Shorter this year), and the "Thelma Hall Creative Writing Award" (best creative writer on campus).
So, two quick stories about Celebrate Shorter and why I think it shows some major issues in my time at Shorter:
1. During the Awards Lunch, I broke one of my cardinal rules of eating at any place that doesn't have assigned seating (I had an assigned table). I sat in the corner seat. This only gives one the possibility of three conversations while an end seat has two and a middle chair has five. The philosophy of always picking a middle chair is that if a conversation gets awkward or stagnates on one side, I can simply turn to the other side and enter whatever they are talking about. But, in the interest of saying as few inappropriate things as possible, I cornered myself. Bad move.
So, when we sat down, salad and cake were already in front of us. Then they brought bread, tea, and water. And we weren't allowed to eat anything until after ALL the awards were given. Wrong answer. Being the classy individual that I am, I ate both the wedges of cheese from my salad and snuck a roll during the athletic awards.
But, anyway, I was sitting across from two upper administration people and I had a professor of mine seated next to me...so, I have to mind my manners around the adults. Which means I can't talk a whole lot. And so they talk...about their lives...and their kids...and the school...and their kids...and then they talk about the kids some more. At one point, the male upper administration asked if he should get his daughter the Disney phone that allows you to check your child's location via GPS and check their phone calls (and I guess texts) from any computer.
They debated this for awhile, and as the conversation was winding down, I said it seemed a little Big Brother. He said it wasn't being Big Brother, it was being a parent. Properly chastised, I shut up. And started wonering what his children's lives must be like.
My parents never felt the need to check up on me. They knew I was a good kid. They trusted me to blaze my own path and if something went wrong, I'd either ask for their help or handle it on my own. If they had tried to micro-manage my life like that, I would have rebelled to another country. I would have ex-patted to a place so distant that it costs too much to call on the telephone. And if this is the kind of attitude that infuses something as simple as a choice of cell phone, then I can only imagine what the rest of the privacy policies of that household are.
Granted, I understand the need to know what is going on in a child's life. But looking over their shoulder is going to make them needy, obsessive-compulsive, and paranoid. Children won't trust their parents with big issues because their parents' have proven themselves untrustworthy. Trust, like respect, for every human being is earned and not something that is naturally instilled. I know that this sounds a bit idiotic, but maybe, just maybe...kids can sometimes take care of themselves.
This reminds me of a Violent Acres post that I read that covers a very similar subject and is worth a look.
Second story in the near future.
Non-Violent Protest
Recently, in the Fine Arts building of Shorter College, a poster was put up beseeching resident assistant professor John Cimics to "Teach [his] students something today!" with a picture of beneficent Jesus behind the man. The flyer attributed the command to God and concluded with a Bible verse. Cimics has become notorious through the theatre department for wasting class time, being a bad director, and for having unrealistic and bizarre classroom practices (for instance, a Voice for the Actor I class spent 5 minutes on the International Phonetic Alphabet but their final [in a degree focused towards contemporary stage performance] will be Ventriloquism).
Responses ranged from outrage to agreement. People have called the author of this flyer "soulless" and have said that the flyer is "tacky." Of course it seems soulless and tacky: protest to those satisfied with the status quo seems that way. Regardless of what I think of the man, the flyer was funny, poignant, true, and non-violent. Thus, I have to support it.
This piece of resistance to the dumbing down of education (made even better by the fact that the author still remains anonymous) has inspired me to think of other ways of spreading resistance.
As some of you know, I recently responded to a pamphlet put out about the morality (or lack of it) of homosexuality by Dr. Aaron J. Werner, Dean of Chapels at Shorter. However, the problem of LGBT hate is a tad rampant outside the Arts Department here. In my Shakespeare class today, I came across a poster listing twelve of the stupidest reasons to ban gay marriage done in rainbow Sharpies. The reasons ranged from gay parents always make gay kids (not only assuming that kids are the only reason for marriage but also supposing the fact that straight parents only make straight kids) to the fact that religion was against homosexuality (to which I would respond that this was a gross generalization). Regardless, though, I would love to take a more extreme measure. And here's what I'm thinking.
In a few days, the local BCM (think Baptist Student Union with a new name: Baptist Collegiate Ministries) will be having a date auction to fund their summer missions immediately following one of their meetings. What if I took a group of LGBT's and made the dates always end up same sex? I mean, I support the idea of going out and doing good in the world. Further, I support a charitable, loving view of all religion. And I think it would be hilarious to know that your support came from people who you actively mistrust and hate.
And maybe we could all get together and watch The Birdcage and feel better about life...or maybe Eddie Izzard. This plan is still in the formative stages. Thoughts?
Responses ranged from outrage to agreement. People have called the author of this flyer "soulless" and have said that the flyer is "tacky." Of course it seems soulless and tacky: protest to those satisfied with the status quo seems that way. Regardless of what I think of the man, the flyer was funny, poignant, true, and non-violent. Thus, I have to support it.
This piece of resistance to the dumbing down of education (made even better by the fact that the author still remains anonymous) has inspired me to think of other ways of spreading resistance.
As some of you know, I recently responded to a pamphlet put out about the morality (or lack of it) of homosexuality by Dr. Aaron J. Werner, Dean of Chapels at Shorter. However, the problem of LGBT hate is a tad rampant outside the Arts Department here. In my Shakespeare class today, I came across a poster listing twelve of the stupidest reasons to ban gay marriage done in rainbow Sharpies. The reasons ranged from gay parents always make gay kids (not only assuming that kids are the only reason for marriage but also supposing the fact that straight parents only make straight kids) to the fact that religion was against homosexuality (to which I would respond that this was a gross generalization). Regardless, though, I would love to take a more extreme measure. And here's what I'm thinking.
In a few days, the local BCM (think Baptist Student Union with a new name: Baptist Collegiate Ministries) will be having a date auction to fund their summer missions immediately following one of their meetings. What if I took a group of LGBT's and made the dates always end up same sex? I mean, I support the idea of going out and doing good in the world. Further, I support a charitable, loving view of all religion. And I think it would be hilarious to know that your support came from people who you actively mistrust and hate.
And maybe we could all get together and watch The Birdcage and feel better about life...or maybe Eddie Izzard. This plan is still in the formative stages. Thoughts?
Already Ready
I spent most of the afternoon making my scene breakdowns for Thoroughly Modern Millie. I'll be the SM under Mr. Disney. I'm keeping an open mind: I mean, I don't like the show (vapid musical, le gasp), but maybe I'll have a fantastic time. That's my terminal optimism rearing its ugly head. Even though things usually happen on the negative side of the median, I usually believe that they will turn out okay.
Anyway, made new forms and all that jazz, so I feel accomplished.
A few words on Mr. Disney. This is his first year at Shorter and I haven't done a whole lot of research into his past. I hear that he's directed tons and lived in a lot of places. Okay. He's married, but his wife is elsewhere. He has been instrumental in support of student-run groups (like This, That, and the Other and Alpha Psi Omega), but he's unpopular with a lot of students. Why? Because they all happen to be failing his classes.
From what I can gather, about half of his Movement class is failing due to his incredibly rigid attendance policy. Said policy is that if you are three seconds late, you are absent for the entire class. Since almost half the grade for the class (which I managed to find in the nearly twelve page syllabus) is participation and attendance, this can make the quasi-slacker fail. I mean, if that were the attendance policy for my Mythological Structure seminar, I'd have been present exactly three times. However, I understand, that since he is almost entirely teaching freshmen, that he is trying to instill punctuality into them.
But, I don't know if I could pass that class. Because life happens. And how shitty is that?
Anyway, made new forms and all that jazz, so I feel accomplished.
A few words on Mr. Disney. This is his first year at Shorter and I haven't done a whole lot of research into his past. I hear that he's directed tons and lived in a lot of places. Okay. He's married, but his wife is elsewhere. He has been instrumental in support of student-run groups (like This, That, and the Other and Alpha Psi Omega), but he's unpopular with a lot of students. Why? Because they all happen to be failing his classes.
From what I can gather, about half of his Movement class is failing due to his incredibly rigid attendance policy. Said policy is that if you are three seconds late, you are absent for the entire class. Since almost half the grade for the class (which I managed to find in the nearly twelve page syllabus) is participation and attendance, this can make the quasi-slacker fail. I mean, if that were the attendance policy for my Mythological Structure seminar, I'd have been present exactly three times. However, I understand, that since he is almost entirely teaching freshmen, that he is trying to instill punctuality into them.
But, I don't know if I could pass that class. Because life happens. And how shitty is that?
Changes Around Shorter
A few things from around good old Shorter College:
-They are replacing the steps next to FSU that lead from one path to another path. They are replacing these steps with larger steps, making it almost a complete path. I see cobblestones happening in the future.
-Mid-semester classes are over, so those with Health and HPE classes are now getting much more sleep and have a chunk of time that they previously devoted to getting less obese (in theory).
-I have found out that the counselor on campus, Dr. Gellar, has administrative privilege over pretty much every faculty member and can pull students out of anything that is making them unhappy or psychologically unstable. From basically everything from campus groups to work-study to classes. Fascinating and potentially useful if someone played it right.
That's all I've got for right now. I've got to go write a villanelle. I'm putting it off because I'm trying to skate the surface right now.
-They are replacing the steps next to FSU that lead from one path to another path. They are replacing these steps with larger steps, making it almost a complete path. I see cobblestones happening in the future.
-Mid-semester classes are over, so those with Health and HPE classes are now getting much more sleep and have a chunk of time that they previously devoted to getting less obese (in theory).
-I have found out that the counselor on campus, Dr. Gellar, has administrative privilege over pretty much every faculty member and can pull students out of anything that is making them unhappy or psychologically unstable. From basically everything from campus groups to work-study to classes. Fascinating and potentially useful if someone played it right.
That's all I've got for right now. I've got to go write a villanelle. I'm putting it off because I'm trying to skate the surface right now.
That Song From Legally Blonde
A bit of drama today. I'm sitting at lunch when Lupo comes and sits in front of me.
"Did you get my message?"
"Nope. Haven't been online today."
"Oh. You have to go look at Esau's status."
"Why?"
"It says, "Esau didn't know that just because he asked somebody to watch a movie it was a date."
So, I trundle on down to my room and check the Facebook. Sure enough, I have a message from Lupo, but when I check Esau's page, there is no status update in his newsfeed. Now, I know that Lupo isn't a liar, so I guess Esau just decided to delete that status and pretend it never happened. But, for those of you who care, here is the rest of the story.
Esau is a freshman who wants to hang out with me a lot. Because I'm hella busy, we don't often. So, Saturday, after dinner, since I didn't have anything today, he and my friend Tony come down to my room to watch a movie. While we're watching it, Esau leans on me and asks if he's hurting me. Obviously not. But it was a little awkward. Thus, I was in and out of the movie a lot updating my computer. Movie gets done, Esau leaves. I ask Tony if he thinks that he Esau was hitting on me. Tony says yes. I tell some friends because its a part of my weekend that was weird because its getting to be general knowledge that Stone and I are a couple.
And apparently Esau is pissed.
Whatever. Passive aggression doesn't work. I never talked to you about how much I hated you invading my personal space when we really don't know each other, but I guess now we never will have to.
"Did you get my message?"
"Nope. Haven't been online today."
"Oh. You have to go look at Esau's status."
"Why?"
"It says, "Esau didn't know that just because he asked somebody to watch a movie it was a date."
So, I trundle on down to my room and check the Facebook. Sure enough, I have a message from Lupo, but when I check Esau's page, there is no status update in his newsfeed. Now, I know that Lupo isn't a liar, so I guess Esau just decided to delete that status and pretend it never happened. But, for those of you who care, here is the rest of the story.
Esau is a freshman who wants to hang out with me a lot. Because I'm hella busy, we don't often. So, Saturday, after dinner, since I didn't have anything today, he and my friend Tony come down to my room to watch a movie. While we're watching it, Esau leans on me and asks if he's hurting me. Obviously not. But it was a little awkward. Thus, I was in and out of the movie a lot updating my computer. Movie gets done, Esau leaves. I ask Tony if he thinks that he Esau was hitting on me. Tony says yes. I tell some friends because its a part of my weekend that was weird because its getting to be general knowledge that Stone and I are a couple.
And apparently Esau is pissed.
Whatever. Passive aggression doesn't work. I never talked to you about how much I hated you invading my personal space when we really don't know each other, but I guess now we never will have to.
So, High School Tournament Today
Okay, so my day. Is crazy. But my teams just walked in, so more in the break.
Back now. So, here's the thing: I feel bad when I favor one team that I'm reading for more than the other. And it's not the usual way that I've heard so many people say: people prefer the yellow team to win because their buzzers are less annoying. The yellow ones sound like a harpies dying call.
I feel biased towards those that I see as non-socially awkward--those who might one day actually see a boob. The one's who might be able to carry on a conversation with me. But I don't favor them; I actually force myself to be harsher on them (Lusi"t"ania not "Lu"th"isania) because I don't want my bias to surface. How Twilight is that? (By the way, I will be stealing Kathleen's phrase because I love it)
In other news, I have almost quadruple-booked my day:
--A-bowl tournament
--Coffee with Kwist
--Rehearsal
--Dinner with boy
--Homework
--Yearbook pictures for cover
And at some point, I need to rewrite I.3 of Love's Call so that Jamel doesn't have to cry but can instead injure himself. It'll be funnier and will actually give them stuff to do instead of just emotions to have. Hacha!
But, anyway, that's my day. I run my rounds fast, so there's no reason that I don't have time to write all this stuff. I think I'm going to go ahead and do a little FB-stalking before the next round starts. I can already tell that I'm not rooting for the red team.
Back now. So, here's the thing: I feel bad when I favor one team that I'm reading for more than the other. And it's not the usual way that I've heard so many people say: people prefer the yellow team to win because their buzzers are less annoying. The yellow ones sound like a harpies dying call.
I feel biased towards those that I see as non-socially awkward--those who might one day actually see a boob. The one's who might be able to carry on a conversation with me. But I don't favor them; I actually force myself to be harsher on them (Lusi"t"ania not "Lu"th"isania) because I don't want my bias to surface. How Twilight is that? (By the way, I will be stealing Kathleen's phrase because I love it)
In other news, I have almost quadruple-booked my day:
--A-bowl tournament
--Coffee with Kwist
--Rehearsal
--Dinner with boy
--Homework
--Yearbook pictures for cover
And at some point, I need to rewrite I.3 of Love's Call so that Jamel doesn't have to cry but can instead injure himself. It'll be funnier and will actually give them stuff to do instead of just emotions to have. Hacha!
But, anyway, that's my day. I run my rounds fast, so there's no reason that I don't have time to write all this stuff. I think I'm going to go ahead and do a little FB-stalking before the next round starts. I can already tell that I'm not rooting for the red team.
The Joke of Green
"'The earth is the Lord's and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it...' Psalm 24:1"
--Found on the back of Shorter's Convocation T-shirt
Yesterday, the convocation speaker talked about the importance of being environmentally conscious and how it was important that Christians embrace a more sustainable way of life because of their duty as stewards of the earth. Gotcha. An appeal to religion at a religious school. But he makes a good point, and it was a good way to kick-off Shorter's "Year in Green" (I forget what the actual title is, but that's the gist).
Yet, immediately following convocation in my air-conditioned gym, I walked across my campus where we have recently put down sod to make the campus more attractive. I walked near the now cobblestone paths which very recently were brand-new concrete paths, replaced, I imagine, to appear more aesthetically pleasing. Walking through buildings burning lights that nobody was using, I arrived at the lunch for the day.
Due to the mass of people, the plates and silverware were disposable, mostly being made from plastic (requires petroleum in production) and styrofoam (takes about 300 years to biodegrade).
Later that day, we had a selective blackout around campus, but that didn't stop us from having our Midnight Breakfast.
At lunch today, they were still using styrofoam and plasticware...even though fewer than 200 people were in the caf.
On top of all of this, we don't have a recycling program, a compost program, a mandate towards a paperless campus, or any environmental initiative aside from the claim that we are "going Green."
I get the joke...somehow, though, I'm not laughing.
--Found on the back of Shorter's Convocation T-shirt
Yesterday, the convocation speaker talked about the importance of being environmentally conscious and how it was important that Christians embrace a more sustainable way of life because of their duty as stewards of the earth. Gotcha. An appeal to religion at a religious school. But he makes a good point, and it was a good way to kick-off Shorter's "Year in Green" (I forget what the actual title is, but that's the gist).
Yet, immediately following convocation in my air-conditioned gym, I walked across my campus where we have recently put down sod to make the campus more attractive. I walked near the now cobblestone paths which very recently were brand-new concrete paths, replaced, I imagine, to appear more aesthetically pleasing. Walking through buildings burning lights that nobody was using, I arrived at the lunch for the day.
Due to the mass of people, the plates and silverware were disposable, mostly being made from plastic (requires petroleum in production) and styrofoam (takes about 300 years to biodegrade).
Later that day, we had a selective blackout around campus, but that didn't stop us from having our Midnight Breakfast.
At lunch today, they were still using styrofoam and plasticware...even though fewer than 200 people were in the caf.
On top of all of this, we don't have a recycling program, a compost program, a mandate towards a paperless campus, or any environmental initiative aside from the claim that we are "going Green."
I get the joke...somehow, though, I'm not laughing.
You're Hard Earned Dollars At Work
And by you, I mean mine. And by mine, I mean the students at Shorter who don't have a sweet scholarship.
Now, Shorter has had something of a cash-flow issue in recent years. It's endowment is not especially large so this tuition driven college has been doing everything it can to save money and attract students of all kinds. And even though the entry level SAT score has been plummeting and the atmosphere of the college has changed, many argue for the worse, that's not why I'm writing today.
Because Shorter is trying to save money. They have raised tuition, room, and board again to something like 23.5 a year. And what did they do with this money?
A little birdie (who didn't want me to go into a fit of homicidal mania when I get back up there in a week) told me that this is how they spent it:
Yes, humble inquirer, those are Segways. For our security staff to ride around on.
Nevermind that between their office in the Student Union and the furthest building on the hill is about a five-minute pimp walk.
Nevermind that Shorter is on a hill, thus making these devices impractical down the steep roads that lead to the gym. Nevermind that in defiance of all decrees of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) and common decency that Shorter is one of the most handicap (and those Segway) inaccessible places that I have ever been to.
Nevermind that Shorter is made of cobblestones and greenery in the front circle, each of which could be damged by the use of this item.
Also, nevermind that even at Segway's top speed of 12.5 mph it would take approximately seven minutes of puttering to reach the gatehouse or the Bass Villages (longer to reach High Acres). Further, nevermind that during class changes, it will be impossible to drive these around campus due to the large number of people walking.
And, lastly, nevermind that they already have a car to make any excursion that can't be made simply by walking.
What I would like to know is why they need them. Because, in a budget crunch (where several budgets have been frozen for several years), it seems that one would only buy something one actually needed. Yet, Shorter security employs no paraplegics, no one missing a limb of any kind.
Now, I haven't been back up to Rome yet so I have no idea how many of these monstrosities of uselessness Shorter has acquired. But here is a line from the good ol' Wikipedia Segway page:
"In the US the price (MSRP, July 2008) of the various Segway models ranges from $5,350 to $6,400"
One of these machines is someone's room and board. Four of them are a year's collegiate education. Now, I don't want to seem like I'm going on forever about something that really equates to a purchase of less than $50k. But, for a ball park figure, let's say they spent $20k this year on purchase, training, and maintenance on these machines. Here's how I would have spent the money:
-Year subscription to the JSTOR online database to provide a decent research tool for primary sources in literature and history. ($11k)
-Getting rid of mold in older buildings ($4k)
-Bug-bombing all of the buildings and increased presence of bug control ($3.5k)
-Replacement of all smoke detectors to be non-defective and tamper-proof ($1.5k)
Now, I honestly don't know if any of those numbers are correct. They could easily be much more expensive or much cheaper. But I suspect that they have all already been taken care of. Otherwise, I'm sure such an egregiously inane expenditure never would have been undertaken.
But, come to think of it, I'll rest safer knowing that I have Segway cops to protect me.
Now if someone could explain to me why I only know of three entering theatre/musical theatre students...
Now, Shorter has had something of a cash-flow issue in recent years. It's endowment is not especially large so this tuition driven college has been doing everything it can to save money and attract students of all kinds. And even though the entry level SAT score has been plummeting and the atmosphere of the college has changed, many argue for the worse, that's not why I'm writing today.
Because Shorter is trying to save money. They have raised tuition, room, and board again to something like 23.5 a year. And what did they do with this money?
A little birdie (who didn't want me to go into a fit of homicidal mania when I get back up there in a week) told me that this is how they spent it:
Yes, humble inquirer, those are Segways. For our security staff to ride around on.
Nevermind that between their office in the Student Union and the furthest building on the hill is about a five-minute pimp walk.
Nevermind that Shorter is on a hill, thus making these devices impractical down the steep roads that lead to the gym. Nevermind that in defiance of all decrees of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) and common decency that Shorter is one of the most handicap (and those Segway) inaccessible places that I have ever been to.
Nevermind that Shorter is made of cobblestones and greenery in the front circle, each of which could be damged by the use of this item.
Also, nevermind that even at Segway's top speed of 12.5 mph it would take approximately seven minutes of puttering to reach the gatehouse or the Bass Villages (longer to reach High Acres). Further, nevermind that during class changes, it will be impossible to drive these around campus due to the large number of people walking.
And, lastly, nevermind that they already have a car to make any excursion that can't be made simply by walking.
What I would like to know is why they need them. Because, in a budget crunch (where several budgets have been frozen for several years), it seems that one would only buy something one actually needed. Yet, Shorter security employs no paraplegics, no one missing a limb of any kind.
Now, I haven't been back up to Rome yet so I have no idea how many of these monstrosities of uselessness Shorter has acquired. But here is a line from the good ol' Wikipedia Segway page:
"In the US the price (MSRP, July 2008) of the various Segway models ranges from $5,350 to $6,400"
One of these machines is someone's room and board. Four of them are a year's collegiate education. Now, I don't want to seem like I'm going on forever about something that really equates to a purchase of less than $50k. But, for a ball park figure, let's say they spent $20k this year on purchase, training, and maintenance on these machines. Here's how I would have spent the money:
-Year subscription to the JSTOR online database to provide a decent research tool for primary sources in literature and history. ($11k)
-Getting rid of mold in older buildings ($4k)
-Bug-bombing all of the buildings and increased presence of bug control ($3.5k)
-Replacement of all smoke detectors to be non-defective and tamper-proof ($1.5k)
Now, I honestly don't know if any of those numbers are correct. They could easily be much more expensive or much cheaper. But I suspect that they have all already been taken care of. Otherwise, I'm sure such an egregiously inane expenditure never would have been undertaken.
But, come to think of it, I'll rest safer knowing that I have Segway cops to protect me.
Now if someone could explain to me why I only know of three entering theatre/musical theatre students...
Get Some Rest
Apparently, all my body needed from today was a gigantic nap. I went to sleep this morning somewhere around 1:30 (all I know is that I didn't get to see the re-airing of last night's Colbert Report). I got up today about 1 PM. I never sleep that late. Pretty much ever. Not even during the school year when I don't have a rehearsal on a Saturday (safely falling in the rare-to-never category). Anywho...
I'm ready to move back to Shorter. Ready to have my senior year and graduate. My biggest worry for the next year? My capstone reception. See, I'm not really a receiving kind of guy (moving on from the obvious jokes). Instead, I kind of want to go out with the ten people I really enjoy and have a kick-ass post-show dinner filled with compound adjectives. But, bowing to social norms and the fact that I'll in all probability have a private show, that is almost certainly out. So, my family, living 250 miles away, won't be able to plan said reception. So, I get to do it. And that's what pisses me off about the whole affair.
I think I might just kick a shit ton of pasta and call it a day. I've never been to a reception at Shorter where they served pasta.
I am slowly filling up my latest pen and paper journal. It's almost done. I finally broke down and bout some real pens the other night because I couldn't write in red anymore...it looked like I was the Marquis de Sade from Quills...and I was only writing about the screwed up lives of myself and my friends.
This blog, starting when I get back, will begin to be my Shorter experience log. Doing it right in pseudonyms.
Now, I'm off to work on the massive monologue book (Lisa, when I get it to a reasonable level of being done, I will most definitely send it to you).
I'm ready to move back to Shorter. Ready to have my senior year and graduate. My biggest worry for the next year? My capstone reception. See, I'm not really a receiving kind of guy (moving on from the obvious jokes). Instead, I kind of want to go out with the ten people I really enjoy and have a kick-ass post-show dinner filled with compound adjectives. But, bowing to social norms and the fact that I'll in all probability have a private show, that is almost certainly out. So, my family, living 250 miles away, won't be able to plan said reception. So, I get to do it. And that's what pisses me off about the whole affair.
I think I might just kick a shit ton of pasta and call it a day. I've never been to a reception at Shorter where they served pasta.
I am slowly filling up my latest pen and paper journal. It's almost done. I finally broke down and bout some real pens the other night because I couldn't write in red anymore...it looked like I was the Marquis de Sade from Quills...and I was only writing about the screwed up lives of myself and my friends.
This blog, starting when I get back, will begin to be my Shorter experience log. Doing it right in pseudonyms.
Now, I'm off to work on the massive monologue book (Lisa, when I get it to a reasonable level of being done, I will most definitely send it to you).
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