There is Always More to Learn (Writing 101, Day 5)

My younger brother recently turned twenty. On his birthday, we jokingly pointed out, “You’re not a teenager anymore, Sam. You no longer know anything.”

It’s amazing how age and study decrease your sense of importance.

You study, study, study, and at the end, you are lucky enough to discover the greatest gift of education: that you know nothing at all.

— E. J. Koh 고은지 (@thisisEJKoh) January 7, 2014

Recently, I graduated from college and, if I learned anything in my four years at the University of Minnesota, Morris, it was that I am incredibly small. There is so much, no, too much to know. Even in my area of study, literature and writing, I feel like I know nothing.

If I decided to get a doctorate in literature, accumulating deep knowledge of texts and cultures from times gone by, it would take the majority of my twenties. Even then, my knowledge would be limited to a single subject—Victorian novels, Renaissance drama, Romantic poetry. I could study for years and years and barely scratch the surface… and that is in my field!

There are so many avenues I wish I could have visited in college. If I could go back, I’d up my Communication minor to a major and take as many rhetoric classes as possible. I’d insert a minor in Art History just because I love the subject. I’d delve into more History classes. I’d take another course in Gender, Women, Sexuality Studies, simply because the topic is culturally relevant and fascinating.

But college is over. Maybe I’ll go to graduate school someday, but that’s at least three years down the road.

Education truly is a gift. Through it, you learn how small you are. You learn that your point of view is one of millions. You learn to empathize with those who are different from you.

But academia is only one kind of knowledge. Now that I’m out of school, it’s time to pursue other studies—how to be a responsible adult, how to be good to my family, how to blog well, how to keep strong in my faith, how to take joy in every day. The biggest lesson is learning what I want to spend the rest of my life doing.

The beauty of education is that it really never stops. Inside or out of the classroom, there is still so much to learn.

This post is inspired by an assignment for the Blogging University class Writing 101: Finding Everyday Inspiration.

Four Years of English Classes: Best and Worst Reads

Being an English Major, I’ve done a LOT of reading over the past four years.  From novels to plays to poetry, it’s been wonderful experiencing all the different texts.  There have been many works I’ve absolutely loved, and several that I couldn’t stand.

Although I’m looking forward to pleasure-reading for the rest of my life, I thought I’d take a moment to look back at the best and worst reads of my undergraduate career.  Below are my lists and in parenthesis are the classes I read them for.

Worst Reads:

• Wieland by Charles Brockden Brown (Survey of American Lit I)
• The Rules: Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right (Courtly Love)
• The Waves by Virginia Woolf (Woolf Lit)
• The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope (Victorian Lit)
• The Art of Courtly Love by Andreas Cappellanus (Courtly Love)
• The Romance of the Rose (Courtly Love)
• Antony & Cleopatra by William Shakespeare (Shakespeare)
• Moses, Man of the Mountain by Zora Neale Hurston (Senior Seminar)

Fun Fact: I hated Wieland so much that I literally threw it at a wall.  That book brought forth so much rage in my sophomore heart.

Best:

• Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (Survey of Brit Lit II, Woolf Lit)
• Dracula by Brahm Stoker (Victorian Lit)
• Coming Up for Air by George Orwell (Unhomely Homes)
• The Faerie Queene (Book I) by Sir Edmund Spenser (Survey of Brit Lit I)
• The Danish Girl by David Ebershoff (Senior Seminar)
• Idyls of the King by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Courtly Love)

These are texts I would recommend in a heartbeat–they left a deep impact in my heart and I know I will revisit them in the future.

Now that I’m done with literature classes, I’m really excited to start tackling classics for fun again.  Bleak House has been on the back-burner for FAR too long.

Almost there

Present my senior seminar?  CHECK

Attend my last class ever?  CHECK

All that’s left is to finish two papers, take an easy final, and I’m done with college!

I know that over the next week I’m going to go through a slew of emotions ranging from excitement to sadness to joy to terror and so on.  (Britta articulates the roller coaster particularly well, so check that out.)  For the moment, though, all I feel is relief.  It’s been an exhausting semester and the end is in sight.

This is my post-senior seminar face. Can you sense my joy?

This post isn’t very substantial, but stay tuned!  Once all my papers are done, I’ve got a week with little to no obligations.  I’ve got a list of posts I want to write and will hopefully get to them.  I’m looking forward to getting back into blogging regularly.  I’ve missed this!

Update

Woah.  You know you’re busy when you completely forget to blog for two weeks.  OOPS.

Life continues to push forward at a steady pace.  During the week, I find myself up to my neck in Shakespeare, Tennyson, and biographical novels.  Hours and hours pass while reading in the library.  I walked out the other day with my arms filled with books–research for my senior seminar is now in swing.  Throughout the day, I flit in and out of classes, giving presentations and crossing things off my to-do list.

This past weekend, I judged my final speech meet for the local high school team.  It’s been a wonderful job to have these past few years.  I’m going to miss critique sheets, judge’s lounge food, and managing speakers that are double-entered, but am ready to be done.  Spring Break aside, it’s been two months since I’ve had a Saturday fully to myself.  I’m tired of waking up before the crack of dawn.

When the day is over, unless I have a student org meeting, I’ve taken to binge watching Downton Abbey (fourth time through!) and playing The Sims 2.  “Treat yo self” has become my new motto.  For the first time in college, I indulge in mochas from the coffee shop and ice cream from the late night on-campus convenience store.

The weeks until graduation continue to pass.  Only 43 days until I finally have my degree!

Hopefully I’ll get better at remembering to post…

I’ve become a hermit and I don’t even care

These days, I don’t seem to get out much.  It’s been a month since I moved back into the dorms and it took until tonight for me to actually meet my floor-mates.  I rarely see my friends anymore.

At times, flying solo is a bit lonesome.  I go hours without talking to anyone but myself.  It’s easy to let myself get all sad and mopey about this, but I do my best to remain positive.  When it comes down to it, I don’t really mind.

After all, life continues to steamroll by and I’m moving with it.  Even if there are moments when I wouldn’t mind company, I’m staying busy and thriving.  I’ve been working hard and am ahead on homework.  In the evenings, I’ve got Bible studies, prayer meetings, and worship nights to attend.  Between work and study, I spend a ridiculous amount of time in the library.   I’m organizing a letter-writing program for college students and elderly in the community for a group project.  On Saturdays, I judge speech meets for the local high school team.

Then, there are quiet nights like this one.  The homework is done, library shifts completed, the meetings have been attended and there is only me, my paint, a jar of Nutella, and a Wes Anderson film.

Life, my friends, is good.

 

It’s all acting

When it comes to academics, there are honestly some days where I feel like one big phony.

At this point, it’s all a game.  Go to class, speak up, do the readings, write the papers, give the professors what they want.  It’s funny how the deeper I have gotten in my upper-level courses, the more I know this isn’t what I want to do with my life.  Academia isn’t for me.  I don’t want to be a student anymore.   When I speak up in class, when I write papers, when I look like I’m so on top of things, it’s all an act.  It’s me playing the game to get the grade.

I want to do something meaningful with my life.  I’m sick of sitting around.  I’m sick of playing the game.  There are times when I feel like Rapunzel, trapped in her tower, singing about all the mindless things she does to pass the time.  The parallel isn’t perfect, of course.  I lack magic hair, an emotionally abusive mother figure, and am certainly not trapped in a tower.  But I’m tired of waiting.

I’m so close to graduating.  There’s just a couple of months standing between me and finally getting my degree.  My life is going places–big, exciting, unknown places.

Do I have it in me to play the game for just a few more months?  I sure hope so.

Geeking out over the Bard

This semester, I have found myself reading Shakespeare.  (This is partially because I’m in a class devoted to the subject.)  But it’s become more than simple homework.

After my library shift on Fridays, I’ve found myself retreating to my room, dimming the lights, and lugging out my massive anthology.  I peer over the tiny print and let the words flow.  I read aloud and my voice changes in tone and pitch from character to character.  In my dark little room, the plays come to life.

We just finished reading Titus Andronicus.  Even though the subject material is some of the most depressing I’ve ever encountered, I still leave class feeling giddy and slightly breathless.

Why?  Because I just love Shakespeare.  I can’t get enough of him.  The careful structure of his plots, the complexities of his characters, the eloquence of his language… it just gets me.

And while we’re on the subject of Titus… it’s so gruesome that it’s funny.

(I had the chance to see the Reduced Shakespeare Company perform this live while in London!  It was splendid enough to deserve its own post, so check that out if you so choose.)

It’s my lucky day

According to the original syllabus for my Health Communications class, we had a test today.

Now, this class is last on my priority list.  I’m only in it because I need four more credits to finish my minor and didn’t want to take the other option offered at 8 AM.  When it comes to homework, I’ll do everything for every other class before I so much as glance at Health Comm.  In fact, I care so little about this class that I made a decision before the semester even started that I wasn’t going to read the textbook.  (Which is out of character for me.  But with my work load, I need to prioritize.)

The good thing about the course is that the professor is extremely laid back.  He’s been reading a lot about new teaching methods and has taken on our class as his guinea pigs.  Instead of lecturing, he split us into groups, divvied up the textbook, and made us present the chapters to the class.  We covered a massive textbook in three weeks.

And now, it’s test time.

Last week, though, the professor had different idea.  On a whim, he pushed the test back to this Thursday and gave us a new assignment.  Once again, he split us into groups and gave us the guidelines for the test: “200 multiple choice, 50 short answers, 15 essay questions, worth 75% of grade”.  (Yes, I know.  These demands are RIDICULOUS.)  In our groups, we had to write an official policy brief explaining the problems with this exam and come up with a better option.

In class today, all the groups presented our briefs.  Many different options were suggested–shortening the test, having the class write it, a take-home option, and one group even proposed an individual oral exam.

At the end of the presentations, we all sat there anxiously.  “Please let it be a take-home test“, I prayed.  “I don’t have time to memorize nine chapters that I didn’t read.”

Then, the unthinkable happened.

The professor got up and told us that he really doesn’t care about testing and that we will better demonstrate knowing the material through applying it in the already-assigned upcoming projects.

I couldn’t believe my ears.  NO TEST.  An enormous weight was suddenly gone.

Now, I actually have time to get all my assigned reading done this week.  I actually have time to write my first big essay for my senior seminar.  I actually have time to step back, relax, and care for my mental health.

I can’t believe my luck.

From doodles to bookmarks

Artistically, I’ve been challenging myself to try new things.  Before this school year, I wasn’t much of a painter.  Pencils were my anchor and sketches my speciality.  I occasionally dabble in digital art, but drawing in Photoshop just isn’t the same.

Then I decided to teach myself watercolors.  Why?  For the challenge.  For the fun.  For the joy of doing something new.

On a different note, I’ve been struggling this semester with a lack of adequate bookmarks.  With three literature classes, I’m usually juggling three or four books at once.  Given the fact that bending pages makes me cringe,  I need lots of paper place holders.

So… why not combine my classroom doodling with watercolors?

For the past few evenings, I’ve been copying my classroom doodles onto my special painting paper and have brought them to life.  My technique still needs refining.  I’m not fully satisfied with some of these.  With practice, I’ll hopefully find a method and style that works best.

Now, I have plenty of bookmarks to choose from.  Once I have enough of them, I might start giving them to friends as gifts.  Why not share the love?

(For more of my art, check out the link to a collection of related posts in the header!)

Kissing Snow

My best friend calls it kissing snow.

You know–the kind with big puffy flakes.  The kind that floats gently as you walk hand in hand with your significant other down the street.  You cross under a street lamp and, pausing, steal a kiss.

Minnesota is known for its winter.  Therefore, the fact that it snowed today is neither significant nor important.

But as I sat in the basement of the Humanities building for hours and hours upon end, I watched the fluffy flakes fall and fell into the happy land of my own imagination.  I’ve never experienced the full delight of kissing snow.  Every time it falls, I look forward to the day I have someone to share it with.

So even though snowfall isn’t something out of the ordinary, in the middle of a busy day, it made my heart a little bit lighter.

Campus in the snow. Taken from my University’s Facebook page.