The Final Countdown

As winter break draws near, the snow-covered campus lays in a chilly, iced hush. This is mostly due to the fact that Transy is instating 24-hour quiet time in the dorms. As the cold encroaches, finals time is upon us…

By attending a top-notch liberal arts institution like Transy, you commit yourself to four years of hardcore intellectual inquiry. This is more than an education, but a path to self-discovery. Yes, homework is an essential part of this process, but you know you’ve found your place in the world when you come to enjoy the topics you’re reading-and-discussing (as is the educational model at small schools like Transy). It is nature’s way that all of this inquiry and discovery must necessarily culminate into some form of trial and assessment.

Here’s way this works at Transy: all classes will wrap up by the end of this week. Students will celebrate - in some cases breathing a sigh of relief - that they’ve accomplished the material for this semester’s courses. But the true end is still in sight. After a weekend devoid of social events and a Monday (dubbed “Reading Day”) filled with frantic cramming, students will conquer their FINAL EXAMS.

As a first-year, I am sufficiently afraid. Not of the exams themselves, because when it comes down to that, it’s only a matter of whether you know it or not. I fear studying the most. Cumulative finals expect you to either retain or relearn all of the material the course has covered, from September through December. I have a ton of reading, problem solving, and all-night cram sessions ahead of me.

But, as a fellow scholar recently told me, “I don’t mind pulling an all-nighter that might end up securing my future.”

Foundations of Liberal Arts, or "The State of America"

At Transy, all first-year students are required to take a class that we lovingly call FLA: Foundations of Liberal Arts. Most people are afraid of FLA because it involves reading, writing, and discussion. Generally, they're afraid of the writing part. But it's not so bad. Just between you and me, I really kind of enjoy FLA.

Most of the papers you'll write will be "informals" - two page stream-of-consciousness ramblings about a particular topic, article, or person you've been discussing. Often, informal writings can serve as good brainstorm-ers for longer "formals."

For example, most of the works that my FLA class has read have involved feminism and education themes. Our most recent informal paper asked us to express something specific we'd like to see changed about America, in light of these topics. Here's the essay that resulted:

The State of America

Although Caroline Bird doesn’t think college is worthwhile, I do. If I could enact any dream, I would give everyone the ability to think. This kind of thinking goes beyond simple stimulus and response. It is true analysis followed by intellectual discourse in the style of Plato. If college can inspire a little mental discomfort for students, then it can help to stretch their brains.

In order to turn our whole populace into thinkers – or at least to maximize the potential of any given individual – we must first change the public education system. But let’s cut the Miss America crap, so that I can get down to my points. The sad fact of it is that not every child in the kindergarten class is a thinker, but we mustn’t lead them to think that they’re not valued. Likewise, we can’t delude the children into thinking that they can be whatever they want when they grow up. I realize that this is harsh, but maybe it’s what Bird was trying to get at. It would be ideal if all of us could be deep philosophers, but that’s not the case.

At the risk of sounding communist, maybe China isn’t so wrong in prematurely segregating 6^th grade children into vocational and pre-college programs. In studies ranking nations by public education quality, those “inhumane” Chinese educators score higher than our own teachers… in every subject area. Even America’s medical schools and engineering programs love to admit the products of China’s public education system. Our job market is globalized, too. If America’s youth want to be able to keep pace with their foreign classmates, they need to be able to see the big picture.

America’s young people should dare to dream the dream, so long as that dream is specific, attainable, and realistic. The problem with this admittedly elitist ideology is that it would never be accepted in America: the land of economic opportunity. Telling someone, especially a child, that their dream is invalid would be sacrificing their individual freedom. Such a vision of the world is entirely too Horatio Alger-esque (“rags to riches”) to be worth anything more than Disney’s fantasized depictions of love. In a way, the fact that America deludes and will always continue to delude its children is as naïve as my wishing that everyone become a great thinker.

Thus, children in Western Civilization will forever be born into Plato’s allegorical cave, their eyes forever shielded from reality’s light. When they enter the proverbial “real world” to find their dreams shattered, it will already be too late. They’ll have wasted an entire lifetime on a useless public education.

Perhaps by attending college, I am fulfilling the stereotype that I so despise. Maybe I am meant to be a homemaker, not a scholar. Tannen and Gorelick would beg to differ, but often I feel housework to be my true calling. Such is my internal conflict.

Fall Break

I’ve successfully made it back to campus after a luxurious fall break at home. The family nearly detained me, but I narrowly escaped. Nana just HAD to make me one last dinner before I left…

Although spending some time with my family was relaxing compared to the loud bustle of the dorms, being at home was certainly a culture shock. Dad had complied an epic list of chores for me to perform. I was under the impression that once you moved away from home, obligations to housework were severed. I was mistaken. It also seems that when you return home, high school curfews are suddenly reinstated. If you want to go out with friends, you have to ask permission. Even though there are practically no rules at college.

In light of these surprises, fall break definitely gave my brain a chance to coast. Even though Dr. Goren gave a suggested reading from the chemistry textbook for our break, I spent my downtime reading silly romance novels. I also watched some television, which I found overwhelming for the most part. I’ve probably turned on the tiny, 13 inch TV a total of five times since moving it into my dorm room. At school there’s no time for TV, there’s always something to DO!

I was so excited for break as a chance to swear off my laptop for four whole days! I should explain that your laptop is your best friend at college – especially on a paperless campus like Transy’s. I lug my lovely Mac book around to all of the best study spots like the campus center and the library’s quiet section. I had requested a laptop case for Christmas, but after the first week of school it became apparent that I needed to ask Mom for advance access.

I also neglected my homework over the break. This sets a bad example of time management. I’m still adjusting to creating regular study habits that work for me, and although I intended to be productive over our precious days off, I focused on sleep instead.

If napping was a major at Transylvania, then I would no longer be “undecided.” Much to my roommate’s dismay, I am a professional napper. College students are often in stress mode or recovery mode. In either case, the best course of action is often sleeping. Going to bed early is a great practice, weekend slumber binges are quite beneficial, and even thirty minute power naps can recharge you enough to get the job done. One perk of dorm life is that your bed is right next to your desk. Why not take advantage of that?

So if I have been lazy with my blog updates lately, naps are likely to blame.

Life is Not a Beauty Pageant

I‘m embarrassed to admit it, but I competed in a pageant one week ago. Mom conned me into it. Ever since the realization set in that college would soon abduct her only child, she’d been reverting back to “motherliness.” Consequently, she has created plenty of mother-daughter fun time. So although I had no real desire to vie for Miss Louisa Septemberfest, I let her make me over and curl my hair and cart me off to the community center. My first beauty pageant.

I felt like Little Miss Sunshine, the plain-looking outcast in the dressing room. The surreal contest was about what you’d expect it to be in that the glitter-covered competitors took themselves very seriously. This disorganized, little community center audience was a big deal to them; getting attention and love was their drive. But none of the beauty queens were blatantly “Toddlers in Tiaras” scary. They magically turned into real people as soon as you took the microphone away.

A tall, blond Miss Greenup County showed me how to “walk.” Pretty much you just stomp around in a counterclockwise circle. Maybe she was just bidding for a Miss Congeniality vote, but her help certainly amped up the fun factor on my pageant experience.

An orangey spray-tanned Miss Elizabethtown was the only other college girl in our midst. In a refreshing flashback to reality, we chatted purposefully about majors, sororities, and hairspray. She cautioned me not to take advantage of the surplus freedom that college will bring.

At Transy I will be meeting a variety of eccentric, if glittery, people. As the old cliché says, you can’t judge a book by its cover. I didn’t expect to learn anything at the pageant last week, but any new experience that lies outside of your comfort zone has lessons to offer.