So college decision came out last week (at least most of them by email did), and as a junior about to enter the college admissions process (oh, if I could count the amount of times I've heard that phrase in the last week alone), it's scary as well as exciting to watch this week of joy as well as tears for the seniors. The scary part really, is discovering how arbitrary the college admissions process is. Plenty of seniors I know who are intelligent, talented, and well-rounded didn't make it in to their top colleges. It's sad to see people who deserve this so much not be able to reach their goals. It's also scary to think that if some people like that, who come off pretty near perfect on paper, are getting rejected or wait-listed on Ivy League colleges, then what hope is there for the rest of us? That's not to say this week was completely depressing, a number of very deserving seniors got into their first choice colleges, or many other excellent schools.
It's just interesting to see how this has affected everyone. One of my friends in particular has spent his entire four years of high school trying to achieve his goal of getting into a certain college. Now that he has been accepted, while he is very happy that his four years of hard work has finally paid off, he has to reevaluate his life, and reorganize the rest of his lives. It's just amazing to think that his entire high school life was consumed with that one goal, and now that it has been achieved, he feels kind of disoriented. While it is disappointing to see some amazing people not get into their first choice of colleges, I still believe that they will be successes, no matter what university they attend. Not to endorse the whole "you have to find the right college to match you" stuff the college counselors are spouting and that everyone thinks is bs, but I think smart, motivated people will do great wherever they go, because of their personalities. Sure, being at that Ivy League school might have given them an edge later on in life, but the fact is, if a person is dedicated and diligent, they will find a way to succeed in their life, no matter what.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Monday, March 12, 2007
How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life
I recently finished reading a book called, "How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life". Never heard of it? Not surprising, since the book was pulled out of stores when the author was sued for plagiarism. Not for plagiarizing actual paragraphs, but for using similar concepts and phrasing as the Megan McCarthy, the author of "Sloppy Firsts" and "Second Helpings".
This seems ridiculous to me. In a world filled with millions upon millions of published books, let alone unfinished manuscripts and novels, it is inevitable that you will come upon someone who has had the same idea as you. Magazines and various newspaper have accused Kaavya Viswanathan of copying passages from authors like Meg McCafferty, Tanuja Desai Hidier, Salman Rushdie, and Meg Cabot. I'm sure that tons of books out there have ideas in their books that are similar to ones in other previously published books. So why did everyone make such a big deal about this particular author and this particular book? Some people think it is because of Kaavya Viswanathan's success. Her book was headed towards the New York Time's Bestseller List. Dreamworks had bought the movie rights. Little, Brown and Company had signed a 2-book deal with her for an advance sum of what was reported to be at least $500,000. As a 17-year old (at the time) Harvard student, that is quite a success. And success inspires jealousy.
As an Indian American myself, and as a fan of books written from the viewpoint of American-born Indians with Indian born parents, I would have liked to believe that Kaavya Viswanathan was innocent. However, I had read the Megan McCafferty books before, and had also loved them. I was ultimately convinced by the articles The Harvard Crimson had published, citing many passages that were disappointingly similar to Megan McCafferty's works. Here is an example
It's really to sad to think that Kaavya Viswanathan's entire career was ruined, because of a stupid mistake, that is, if it was intentional. She claims that she loved Megan McCafferty's books when she younger, and "didn't realize how much she must have internalized her words". But plagiarized or not, I still enjoyed reading the book. While her second book deal was canceled, I hope that she can overcome the stigma she has gained and continue her writing career.
This seems ridiculous to me. In a world filled with millions upon millions of published books, let alone unfinished manuscripts and novels, it is inevitable that you will come upon someone who has had the same idea as you. Magazines and various newspaper have accused Kaavya Viswanathan of copying passages from authors like Meg McCafferty, Tanuja Desai Hidier, Salman Rushdie, and Meg Cabot. I'm sure that tons of books out there have ideas in their books that are similar to ones in other previously published books. So why did everyone make such a big deal about this particular author and this particular book? Some people think it is because of Kaavya Viswanathan's success. Her book was headed towards the New York Time's Bestseller List. Dreamworks had bought the movie rights. Little, Brown and Company had signed a 2-book deal with her for an advance sum of what was reported to be at least $500,000. As a 17-year old (at the time) Harvard student, that is quite a success. And success inspires jealousy.
As an Indian American myself, and as a fan of books written from the viewpoint of American-born Indians with Indian born parents, I would have liked to believe that Kaavya Viswanathan was innocent. However, I had read the Megan McCafferty books before, and had also loved them. I was ultimately convinced by the articles The Harvard Crimson had published, citing many passages that were disappointingly similar to Megan McCafferty's works. Here is an example
| McCafferty's book | Viswanathan's novel |
| page 7: "Bridget is my age and lives across the street. For the first twelve years of my life, these qualifications were all I needed in a best friend. But that was before Bridget's braces came off and her boyfriend Burke got on, before Hope and I met in our seventh grade Honors classes." | page 14: "Priscilla was my age and lived two blocks away. For the first fifteen years of my life, those were the only qualifications I needed in a best friend. We had bonded over our mutual fascination with the abacus in a playgroup for gifted kids. But that was before freshman year, when Priscilla's glasses came off, and the first in a long string of boyfriends got on." |
It's really to sad to think that Kaavya Viswanathan's entire career was ruined, because of a stupid mistake, that is, if it was intentional. She claims that she loved Megan McCafferty's books when she younger, and "didn't realize how much she must have internalized her words". But plagiarized or not, I still enjoyed reading the book. While her second book deal was canceled, I hope that she can overcome the stigma she has gained and continue her writing career.
Junior Function
I guess it is a little late to be writing about Junior Function, since was almost 3 weeks ago, but since we just got our pictures, I think it's okay. I had written a journal entry before Function about how if you have high expectations for something, chances are, the event will be a let down to what you are expecting. I was extremely excited for Function, but after listening to the words of my friend, who was reminiscing about previous parties and dances, and how the ones she always expected to be really fun turned out boring, and the ones she thought would be a drag turned out to be exciting. That kind of worried me, because I didn't want Function to turn out like that. I had this little debate in my head about what do to. One side of me was like, "Just start to think that Function won't be fun, and then it will turn out unexpectedly fun, and you'll be all set." The other side of me then said, "But what if you jinx it by thinking that, and then it really turns out to not be fun? And besides, that won't really work, since you would only be thinking Function would suck so that it wouldn't suck; you don't really believe that." At that point, I was beginning to confuse even myself, and I decided to just stop obsessing, and see how the night turned out.
And everything turned out all right. It was the most exciting thing ever, like I had hoped it would be, but I had a lot of fun, and enjoyed the evening. I guess this was kind of lesson in positive thinking and superstition and all that. If you just expect something to just be "magical", nothing is going to happen. If you want to have a fun time, you have to go out and make your own fun. And all the superstition, and trying to not be excited about it so it wouldn't be letdown really was just a way to try to psych myself out. I've learned that while I shouldn't put a lot of expectations on one thing, being excited about it doesn't hurt. I'm trying to do the same thing for prom this year. While I am very excited, I think part of the excitement is due to the fact that it is something new, and I don't know what it is going to be like. I'm keeping my expectations real: I won't know most of the people there, since I'm a junior, but I do have quite a few senior friends who I can hang out with and have a good time. I guess we'll just wait and see how it turns out!
And everything turned out all right. It was the most exciting thing ever, like I had hoped it would be, but I had a lot of fun, and enjoyed the evening. I guess this was kind of lesson in positive thinking and superstition and all that. If you just expect something to just be "magical", nothing is going to happen. If you want to have a fun time, you have to go out and make your own fun. And all the superstition, and trying to not be excited about it so it wouldn't be letdown really was just a way to try to psych myself out. I've learned that while I shouldn't put a lot of expectations on one thing, being excited about it doesn't hurt. I'm trying to do the same thing for prom this year. While I am very excited, I think part of the excitement is due to the fact that it is something new, and I don't know what it is going to be like. I'm keeping my expectations real: I won't know most of the people there, since I'm a junior, but I do have quite a few senior friends who I can hang out with and have a good time. I guess we'll just wait and see how it turns out!
College Conference
I had my college conference on Friday, and all I can say is that I never want to go through something like that again. Quite frankly, it was a depressing experience.
It started off okay, talking about transcripts, SAT reasoning and subject tests, and financial aid. But then, my college counselor turned around, reached for an enormous binder, and dropped it on the table in front of us, with a huge bang. That binder contained the record of every single student in our high school who had gone to college in the past 7 years. On each page was the the name of a college or university, and going down in rows were the numbers, 4.0, 3.9. 3.8, etc. Across the page in columns were the headings "Accepted", "Wait listed", and "Denied". Those thousand or so sheets of paper told you exactly how many people got into which college each year, the GPA they had, and their comparison to all the other people in their graduating class, as well as past classes. Perhaps the worst part was the last column on the sheet of paper I was given, with space to write either "Reach" "Core" "Probable", or "Likely". Next to colleges which you had a 5% or less chance of acceptance, you wrote "Reach"; next to ones with a 50-50 chance, you wrote "Core", etc. I can comfort myself that if all else fails, I am pretty much guaranteed acceptance to UH, at the very least...
As my counselor and parents flipped from one page to the next, I had this sinking feeling. College used to seem like this distant, far away place that would come eventually, but had no immediate effects right now. But looking at that binder with all the statistics showed me that sooner than I thought, I would become a part of that binder. I used to think I had all the time in the world to choose which colleges I wanted to apply to, and to start filling out those applications. But I realize that in a mere half a year or so, I will have to start turning in those applications. My counselor started talking about my list of things to do before next year, and while I was frantically scribbling notes on the piece of paper she gave me, I had a mini panic attack. Take 6 different SAT subject tests, plus the SAT again, and the ACT? Find two teachers, and build "rapport" with them in order to ask them for a recommendation next year? Start practicing essays and write a resume? All of these things seemed so foreign, and so overwhelming.
That night, I had a lot to think about. The conference was kind of like a wake-up call for me. I realize now that although it seems like a lot of work, and a lot of space to mess up in, I can't rely on my parents to make sure I follow through on all of those things. The idea of college is based upon Independence, and starting that now will only make things easier in college. Looking through that binder of nameless GPAs, and seeing which one got into where, while at first was depressing, inspired me to work harder. Sure, the college process may be very arbitrary, and may seem like luck half the time, but at least I'll know I did my best.
It started off okay, talking about transcripts, SAT reasoning and subject tests, and financial aid. But then, my college counselor turned around, reached for an enormous binder, and dropped it on the table in front of us, with a huge bang. That binder contained the record of every single student in our high school who had gone to college in the past 7 years. On each page was the the name of a college or university, and going down in rows were the numbers, 4.0, 3.9. 3.8, etc. Across the page in columns were the headings "Accepted", "Wait listed", and "Denied". Those thousand or so sheets of paper told you exactly how many people got into which college each year, the GPA they had, and their comparison to all the other people in their graduating class, as well as past classes. Perhaps the worst part was the last column on the sheet of paper I was given, with space to write either "Reach" "Core" "Probable", or "Likely". Next to colleges which you had a 5% or less chance of acceptance, you wrote "Reach"; next to ones with a 50-50 chance, you wrote "Core", etc. I can comfort myself that if all else fails, I am pretty much guaranteed acceptance to UH, at the very least...
As my counselor and parents flipped from one page to the next, I had this sinking feeling. College used to seem like this distant, far away place that would come eventually, but had no immediate effects right now. But looking at that binder with all the statistics showed me that sooner than I thought, I would become a part of that binder. I used to think I had all the time in the world to choose which colleges I wanted to apply to, and to start filling out those applications. But I realize that in a mere half a year or so, I will have to start turning in those applications. My counselor started talking about my list of things to do before next year, and while I was frantically scribbling notes on the piece of paper she gave me, I had a mini panic attack. Take 6 different SAT subject tests, plus the SAT again, and the ACT? Find two teachers, and build "rapport" with them in order to ask them for a recommendation next year? Start practicing essays and write a resume? All of these things seemed so foreign, and so overwhelming.
That night, I had a lot to think about. The conference was kind of like a wake-up call for me. I realize now that although it seems like a lot of work, and a lot of space to mess up in, I can't rely on my parents to make sure I follow through on all of those things. The idea of college is based upon Independence, and starting that now will only make things easier in college. Looking through that binder of nameless GPAs, and seeing which one got into where, while at first was depressing, inspired me to work harder. Sure, the college process may be very arbitrary, and may seem like luck half the time, but at least I'll know I did my best.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Does technology make you lazy?
I have to say, I've noticed the difference between writing on this blog, and typing on a regular word document. For one, I actually have to go back, and check my writing, to make sure I've spelled everything correctly, and have the right punctuation, etc. You never really notice how easy the new Microsoft Office Word makes life, until you start to type someplace else. Word capitalizes the letter "i" for you, it inserts apostrophes into your contractions, and corrects minor common spelling errors. In a weird sort of way, Microsoft Word is like a mother cleaning up after a reckless child wreaking havoc in a path around the house. The child, or the typist in this case, speedily types out a paper at maximum speed. Microsoft Word follows behind you like a diligent mother, cleaning up your paper and making it presentable.
That leads us to the question, does technology make you lazy? Let's look at some examples: Microwave - more of a convenience that a tool to make you lazy. I mean, who actually wants to stand near a stove watching water boil, when you can zap it in the microwave for 40 seconds? (There are much better things you can be doing with you time.) TV - (specifically, digital cable or whatever the latest type of television is) definitely makes you more lazy. They have designed it so that you can order food to be delivered to your door with a press of a button as you sit slumped on the couch, watching TV. Could you get any lazier? Cell phones - half/half. They have definitely improved lines of communication, but while they don't necessarily make people lazy, they pose a definite threat to mankind, in the way of talking on the cell while driving. Another things that irks people about cell phones is that thanks to new models, where you can do everything from listen to music, IM people, check your email, as well as talk, you don't feel the need to talk to or communicate with the people you are with, since you can get in touch with practically anybody, anywhere.
This list and my thoughts aren't finished, but I have to go to class so I'll finish it another time...
That leads us to the question, does technology make you lazy? Let's look at some examples: Microwave - more of a convenience that a tool to make you lazy. I mean, who actually wants to stand near a stove watching water boil, when you can zap it in the microwave for 40 seconds? (There are much better things you can be doing with you time.) TV - (specifically, digital cable or whatever the latest type of television is) definitely makes you more lazy. They have designed it so that you can order food to be delivered to your door with a press of a button as you sit slumped on the couch, watching TV. Could you get any lazier? Cell phones - half/half. They have definitely improved lines of communication, but while they don't necessarily make people lazy, they pose a definite threat to mankind, in the way of talking on the cell while driving. Another things that irks people about cell phones is that thanks to new models, where you can do everything from listen to music, IM people, check your email, as well as talk, you don't feel the need to talk to or communicate with the people you are with, since you can get in touch with practically anybody, anywhere.
This list and my thoughts aren't finished, but I have to go to class so I'll finish it another time...
Cool, calm and collected...or not
I like to think of myself as a calm, logical person.
Ask my friends to describe me: smart and scientific.
So how does that explain me walking out of a movie theater at 10:30 at night, halfway through the movie and shaking with fear?
There is simply nothing rational or sensible about a fear of horror movies. Yet, millions of people flock to theaters for the sole purpose of getting the pants scared off of them. Let's set up the scene: It's 9:00, I'm sitting at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, celebrating my debate tournament qualification with a well-deserved mocha ice-blended drink. We decide to go see a movie, why not? We've been through a full day of hard debating, we deserve a little mindless entertainment. It's at this point that I remember that I haven't seen a scary movie in about 4 years, a decision which came about after watching "Child's Play" at 2:00 in the morning (terrible movie, made me put all of my dolls in a sealed box). Despite this fact, I suffer a lapse in judgement (perhaps from all the caffeine and sugar), and decide to go see the movie "Zodiac" (again, terrible movie, which nobody should go and see).
Which explains why at about 10:00 that night, I was in the 7th row of Ward Theater, curled up in my seat, trembling, and peeking out through my fingers which were covering my eyes. After about an hour of tense, stressful scenes picturing gruesome stabbings, suspense-filled moments that seem to last forever, and the occasional dead body, I decide I can't handle the tension and leave. Half-numb with fear, I go home and lie in bed for a few hours before drifting into a troubled, nightmarish sleep. The next morning, with the reassurances of a blaring TV, parents in the next room, and several windows of sunlight, I sit down and try to reason with myself.
Why was I so afraid of the movie? Well, let's start with the fact that this movie, at least, was based on the true story of a serial killer in California. Furthermore, the killer was never caught in real life, giving the story neither a satisfying ending nor closure. That brings us to the even deeper question of: Why are people afraid of death? The number one fear in America is a fear of dying (closely followed by a fear of public speaking). But why are we so afraid of dying? Sure, there is always the physical aspect of it; how many people would actually volunteer to being stabbed to death? I suppose a practical approach would be that if it is your time to go, it is your time to go, and there is nothing you can do about that. That always brings the picture to mind of the 3 Fate Sisters in the movie Hercules, untangling the thread of life, and snipping it when the time is right. But thinking about that always gives me optimism, watching the sisters try to cut Hercules' thread, and seeing the scissors bounce off. Hey, we can't all be demi-gods, but we can hope, right?
I guess it is related to the biological fact that all animals, including humans, have the urge ingrained in them to pass their genes on to future generations, and leave your mark on the world. Most animals, when given the choice, will not voluntarily give up their desire to live. Even when desperate, animals have the overwhelming aspiration to pass on as many of their genes as they can, and to live as long as possible. (It's a biological fact. Accept it.) That is possibly why so many of us fear death and dying, because it represents something that goes against the instincts of nature.
So that brings us back to the all-important question or why do people even watch scary movies? Maybe some people actually like the heart-pounding thrills from the feelings of suspense. (But has it ever occurred to anyone that maybe serial killers actually get their ideas from horror movies?)
Kind of deep, depressing thoughts for a cheap horror flick...
Ask my friends to describe me: smart and scientific.
So how does that explain me walking out of a movie theater at 10:30 at night, halfway through the movie and shaking with fear?
There is simply nothing rational or sensible about a fear of horror movies. Yet, millions of people flock to theaters for the sole purpose of getting the pants scared off of them. Let's set up the scene: It's 9:00, I'm sitting at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, celebrating my debate tournament qualification with a well-deserved mocha ice-blended drink. We decide to go see a movie, why not? We've been through a full day of hard debating, we deserve a little mindless entertainment. It's at this point that I remember that I haven't seen a scary movie in about 4 years, a decision which came about after watching "Child's Play" at 2:00 in the morning (terrible movie, made me put all of my dolls in a sealed box). Despite this fact, I suffer a lapse in judgement (perhaps from all the caffeine and sugar), and decide to go see the movie "Zodiac" (again, terrible movie, which nobody should go and see).
Which explains why at about 10:00 that night, I was in the 7th row of Ward Theater, curled up in my seat, trembling, and peeking out through my fingers which were covering my eyes. After about an hour of tense, stressful scenes picturing gruesome stabbings, suspense-filled moments that seem to last forever, and the occasional dead body, I decide I can't handle the tension and leave. Half-numb with fear, I go home and lie in bed for a few hours before drifting into a troubled, nightmarish sleep. The next morning, with the reassurances of a blaring TV, parents in the next room, and several windows of sunlight, I sit down and try to reason with myself.
Why was I so afraid of the movie? Well, let's start with the fact that this movie, at least, was based on the true story of a serial killer in California. Furthermore, the killer was never caught in real life, giving the story neither a satisfying ending nor closure. That brings us to the even deeper question of: Why are people afraid of death? The number one fear in America is a fear of dying (closely followed by a fear of public speaking). But why are we so afraid of dying? Sure, there is always the physical aspect of it; how many people would actually volunteer to being stabbed to death? I suppose a practical approach would be that if it is your time to go, it is your time to go, and there is nothing you can do about that. That always brings the picture to mind of the 3 Fate Sisters in the movie Hercules, untangling the thread of life, and snipping it when the time is right. But thinking about that always gives me optimism, watching the sisters try to cut Hercules' thread, and seeing the scissors bounce off. Hey, we can't all be demi-gods, but we can hope, right?
I guess it is related to the biological fact that all animals, including humans, have the urge ingrained in them to pass their genes on to future generations, and leave your mark on the world. Most animals, when given the choice, will not voluntarily give up their desire to live. Even when desperate, animals have the overwhelming aspiration to pass on as many of their genes as they can, and to live as long as possible. (It's a biological fact. Accept it.) That is possibly why so many of us fear death and dying, because it represents something that goes against the instincts of nature.
So that brings us back to the all-important question or why do people even watch scary movies? Maybe some people actually like the heart-pounding thrills from the feelings of suspense. (But has it ever occurred to anyone that maybe serial killers actually get their ideas from horror movies?)
Kind of deep, depressing thoughts for a cheap horror flick...
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Just let it go
(this is a post I saved as a draft a few days ago but didn't publish)
It's sort of an after-debate-tournament tradition, bringing your debate ballots home and reading them the next day, late at night, when you know you really should be doing all that homework you always bring to debate tournaments, but never do. But the lure of that thick packet of heavily written upon sheets (best case scenario: white, worst case: yellow) is irresistible, especially when given the choice between that or another hour of math homework.
While reading them through again, I can feel myself starting to get worked up about the ignorant offhand comments of some of the judges. But I have to remember the words of our coach: "Just let it go." I have to start at the beginning of this story in order to explain this while making sense. You see, the best parts of debate are the moments after you come back from an especially fierce round, and you bash the other teams (figuratively, not literally) with other members of your own team. Call it team bonding. It's a small window of time which takes place early enough so that you're still pumped with the adrenaline from you round, but not late enough so that the energy has started to wear off, and you begin to feel depressed about obnoxious teams and clueless judges. But those moments are priceless: when looking back at debate tournaments (which really do comprise a large portion of my high school years), I'll remember that feeling of being part of a team: talking over each other in our rush to get our our stories, complaining about your opponents, having others relate to how frustrating it is to debate a certain team, congratulating people as they come off a high from a particularly easy round, supporting everyone and telling them that of course they beat that annoying team from our rival school. Debate may be either a solo or partner activity, but it's really those times when you remember, and actually feel like you are part of a team.
Going back to the point of this blog, even though it's fun and all to bash the other teams and judges to encourage this whole team bonding experience, there is a certain point where you just have to say to yourself, "I'm going to let it go." There are always going to be nasty opponents and harsh judges, but the reality is, you have to accept the good, take the useful criticism, and just let the rest go. You can't let a comment like, "If you don't know how to give a handshake, don't do one at all" keep you from ever shaking the hand of a judge. (And yes, this was an actual comment I got from a judge...ironic, coming from a 60 year old woman with the grip of a sleeping baby...I'm just a little bitter, can you tell?). So as not to give you the wrong idea, I'm not saying all judges give critical remarks like such, there are actually some quite amusing quotes from judges, which we put on the back of our Speech & Debate shirt last year:
"You know you have to speak, right?"
"Calm down, I thought you were going to strangle your opponent in the middle of cross ex."
"You sound like an LD debater - it's kind of cute."
"This is the final round. How did you ever get this far?"
"1/7th is not 35%. Your math teacher should fail you."
"In your CX: He's not going to agree with you. AND IT'S OK."
Anyway, I guess the point of this post was to relate my coach's words to life. It's a pretty good attitude to have: accept the good that comes to you in life, take meaningful criticism and use it to your advantage, and just let all of the negative energy go.
It's sort of an after-debate-tournament tradition, bringing your debate ballots home and reading them the next day, late at night, when you know you really should be doing all that homework you always bring to debate tournaments, but never do. But the lure of that thick packet of heavily written upon sheets (best case scenario: white, worst case: yellow) is irresistible, especially when given the choice between that or another hour of math homework.
While reading them through again, I can feel myself starting to get worked up about the ignorant offhand comments of some of the judges. But I have to remember the words of our coach: "Just let it go." I have to start at the beginning of this story in order to explain this while making sense. You see, the best parts of debate are the moments after you come back from an especially fierce round, and you bash the other teams (figuratively, not literally) with other members of your own team. Call it team bonding. It's a small window of time which takes place early enough so that you're still pumped with the adrenaline from you round, but not late enough so that the energy has started to wear off, and you begin to feel depressed about obnoxious teams and clueless judges. But those moments are priceless: when looking back at debate tournaments (which really do comprise a large portion of my high school years), I'll remember that feeling of being part of a team: talking over each other in our rush to get our our stories, complaining about your opponents, having others relate to how frustrating it is to debate a certain team, congratulating people as they come off a high from a particularly easy round, supporting everyone and telling them that of course they beat that annoying team from our rival school. Debate may be either a solo or partner activity, but it's really those times when you remember, and actually feel like you are part of a team.
Going back to the point of this blog, even though it's fun and all to bash the other teams and judges to encourage this whole team bonding experience, there is a certain point where you just have to say to yourself, "I'm going to let it go." There are always going to be nasty opponents and harsh judges, but the reality is, you have to accept the good, take the useful criticism, and just let the rest go. You can't let a comment like, "If you don't know how to give a handshake, don't do one at all" keep you from ever shaking the hand of a judge. (And yes, this was an actual comment I got from a judge...ironic, coming from a 60 year old woman with the grip of a sleeping baby...I'm just a little bitter, can you tell?). So as not to give you the wrong idea, I'm not saying all judges give critical remarks like such, there are actually some quite amusing quotes from judges, which we put on the back of our Speech & Debate shirt last year:
"You know you have to speak, right?"
"Calm down, I thought you were going to strangle your opponent in the middle of cross ex."
"You sound like an LD debater - it's kind of cute."
"This is the final round. How did you ever get this far?"
"1/7th is not 35%. Your math teacher should fail you."
"In your CX: He's not going to agree with you. AND IT'S OK."
Anyway, I guess the point of this post was to relate my coach's words to life. It's a pretty good attitude to have: accept the good that comes to you in life, take meaningful criticism and use it to your advantage, and just let all of the negative energy go.
Friday, March 2, 2007
La ciel est tombe
For lack of insight or creativity, I decided to name my blog, "La ciel est tombe", which translated out of French means, "the sky is falling!". That sentiment pretty much describes my feelings about junior year in general, especially this past week. I've been running around like crazy, (kind of like Chicken Little when he thought the sky really was falling), trying to get all my applications in before the March 1st deadline, writing debate case after debate case, and trying to finish this ever-growing mound of homework teachers are piling on us.
These thoughts started going around in my head after I was reading through some of the Defining Moments Essay Drafts on our Wikispace. I read one essay in particular that talked about her struggles with junior year, and I thought she did a really good job in capturing all of the emotions she was feeling about this year. I could relate to the long, homework filled nights with little to no sleep at all, and the feelings of desperation and panic that the author of the essay described. While sick at home this past week, frantically trying to finish my work while coughing and rasping with a sore throat, I got some good advice that pulled me out of my work-induced panic state. A college freshmen I knew who used to go to my school last year talked to me about how to take a step back, and reevaluate the things in my life, to figure out what is causing stress, and what is really important to me. He shared his own experiences of procrastination as a senior, and gave me some advice that I thought was worth sharing. He told me that stressing about something wasn't going to change the outcome of what I was stressing about.
It seems like common sense now, but the logic of it pierced through my feverish state to make me calm down. I realized that he was right, and I was able to take things one step at time, and finish my work. Stress will always be a part of our lives, but how we deal with that, and any other variables in our lives are what defines us, now and in our future.
These thoughts started going around in my head after I was reading through some of the Defining Moments Essay Drafts on our Wikispace. I read one essay in particular that talked about her struggles with junior year, and I thought she did a really good job in capturing all of the emotions she was feeling about this year. I could relate to the long, homework filled nights with little to no sleep at all, and the feelings of desperation and panic that the author of the essay described. While sick at home this past week, frantically trying to finish my work while coughing and rasping with a sore throat, I got some good advice that pulled me out of my work-induced panic state. A college freshmen I knew who used to go to my school last year talked to me about how to take a step back, and reevaluate the things in my life, to figure out what is causing stress, and what is really important to me. He shared his own experiences of procrastination as a senior, and gave me some advice that I thought was worth sharing. He told me that stressing about something wasn't going to change the outcome of what I was stressing about.
It seems like common sense now, but the logic of it pierced through my feverish state to make me calm down. I realized that he was right, and I was able to take things one step at time, and finish my work. Stress will always be a part of our lives, but how we deal with that, and any other variables in our lives are what defines us, now and in our future.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
