Friday, October 23, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
I was thinking about something my Ethics and Values teacher said a couple of classes ago.
First, though, let me detail my Ethics class.
The main gist of it is not as you would expect; it is not all about world religions and how we must respect and be tolerant of one another and what is important to each person.
It might be that way in other classes, but not mine.
My class is more concerned with what we are doing to the world. The fact that our society is not self-sustainable, and if we do not do something soon than it will inevitably crash.
It's depressing. It's enough to make you throw yourself under a bus.*
It is very, very probably true. But it comes down to helplessness. What can one class of twenty or thirty college freshman, scared shitless every Thursday from 4:15-5:30, do to make this inevitable end less inevitable?
The sad and naked truth is not too much. For anything to radically change would take a world wide effort.
But I'm getting off my topic. I was thinking about something my Ethics teacher said. He told a story about a man trying to catalog and record Native American songs, and wondering what they all meant. An old indian man told him the meaning, and the man reacted with annoyance at how almost every single song related to water.
The old man replied that his people sing about things they don't have enough of.
Many songs that we hear on the radio, or on MTv, or through our own speakers and headphones, or live and personal, they're about love.
Do we sing about things we don't have enough of too?
*As one student in my class threatened, if the teacher didn't start to offer some solutions to our depressing situation.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
.... does not appear all that different from high school me. She looks the same. For the most part, she dresses the same, except she now parts her hair a little differently and has swapped her glasses for contacts. She's blonde and somewhat tan for the first time in a long time thanks to a summer of basking in the sunlight, and a little more comfortable with herself thanks to a summer of the closest best friends. She's a little quieter, her jokes are significantly less inappropriate, and her references not near as nerdy in this new land of all new people. Sometimes, boys find her attractive. She is broke. She doesn't party, and for this reason gets left in the dorms alone sometimes. She hates showering with flip-flops on, and misses the luxury of not having to slip on shoes just to go down the hall to the bathroom. She misses her dog. She misses her sisters, her nephews, her best friends, and familiar faces and things. She doesn't miss high school, but she misses the easiness of it, and some of the teachers. She likes the dining hall food. She loves her Monday/Wednesday tall chai tea latte before film class. She makes forts in her dorm room. She plays sock-skating in the hallway. She talks on the phone more, and has a spot in the hallway where she sits and does this, next to the elevator. She still loves piggyback rides. She uses her desk to climb onto her bed, but knows better than to try and climb down in socks, lest she slips. She's gotten used to sleeping despite all the noise from the parking lot outside the window. She swears more. She does her homework at one in the morning, and puts things off until the last minute. She neglects her guitar but is making strides towards practicing more. She has made some nice friends, and would love to make more. She laughs often. She steps on crunchy leaves and jumps from rock to rock.
She's doing alright.
She's doing alright.