I came across a little gem of a book entitled The Well Educated Mind. I shan’t go into it here, but I have much to say about the travesty that is the American education system.
Rants aside, Bauer deftly raises many good points throughout the book. Perhaps most intriguing to me is her call to journal. I had always thought that one should save his thoughts and capitulations for rainy days anon. Certainly, though, thinking and doing are two very different actions: I never actually ended up journaling, because it quickly became overly tedious. My bedroom, therefore, is rife with journals scantly filled with random thoughts and notes I’d taken on books I was reading at the time.
As for summer imagery: I was driving last night, going about 80 MPH down a country road in rural Pennsylvania. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the setting, relatively small farms and pastures are separated by parcels of woodlands. The rolling hills and abrupt peaks of the Allegheny plateau make for a farming environment rather different than the expansive plains of the Midwest.
Anyways, my speed coupled with the undulating irregularity of the scenery provided a unique experience: With every breath I took in, my senses were inundated with an entirely new complement of olfactory images. It’s interesting to me how intimately associated one’s sense of smell is to his memory.
I grew up among the natural dips and sudden clines of this region. I hadn’t been back for quite sometime, and the smell of moist clover and honeysuckle transported me back in time to memories of bygone years.
As I continued my drive, I passed over a small stream and was hit with the smell of wet oil with which the region is uniquely punctuated.
Ten years ago, this was me. A young boy both fascinated and contemptuous with his surroundings. Yearning for crowded streets and open minds.
I’m not going to lie: It always struck me funny that people blamed a region’s “sinfulness” for its natural disasters. Examine, if you will, the following graphics.
So, I’m not going to lie… this past week was a rather full one. I found myself making almost daily trips to the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh. Why? you might ask. Well, apparently they’ve had a spectacular music collection replete with both mainstream and not-so-mainstream goodies. For example, Thursday, I borrowed (and ripped into my iTunes library) the opera Susannah, At the Village Gate by Nina Simone, The Music Man, and Dreamgirls. They, of course, have many more genres than musical theatre, opera, and jazz… it’s just nice to be able to explore new types of music. Thanks Andrew… or Andy-Cizzla as I so affectionately refer to him as.
On a rather morose note, my cell phone was stolen/lost… I’m not too sure what happened. You see, I was wearing track pants (outside the apartment…), and th pockets were so large, my phone was constantly slipping out. So, after my friend and I had finished eating burritos, I reached for my phone, and much to my chagrin, it was missing. Oi vei iz mir!
Friday-Saturday, Pitt finally had our Relay For Life. It rained most of the night, but when given lemons, we Pitt students inevitably make limoncello. People were playing football and ultimate in the mud all night. Bands were playing from 7pm-1am, and every one had a really great time. We ended up with around $13,000… quite a bit more than CMU raised their first year… yet another example of Pitt’s superiority.
Today, I got a new phone: an enV from Verizon. I’d always hated how Verizon so avariciously blocks various hardware features that allowed customers from other providers send custom-made ringtones right from their computers to their phones, so I really did some digging, and I found a spectacular little program called BitPim. I HIGHLY recommend downloading it.
Obama came to my school this past Friday. Unfortunately, I had to do some cadaver dissection and then proctor an exam, so I missed out on his speech. There was also a pretty sizable war protest (for Pittsburgh, at least) yesterday that I missed out on for various reasons. Apparently, I’m just out of the Leftist loop these days.
In other news, Pennsyl-tucky has recently taken one step closer to startling civil rights violations. A senate committee has sent a possible constitutional amendment to the floor that would disallow gay couples to marry. They cite recent court decisions in other states as evidence of the encroaching threat to the institution of marriage. Again, I argue that civil rights issues should not depend on the capricious whim of popular vote.
And finally, two music selections for your aural pleasures. The first is Nina Simone’s “Feelin’ Good.” If you are unfamiliar with her music, I highly recommend checking her other stuff out. Nina’s sultry vocals are contrasted with the perennial message contained in the Goo Goo Dolls’”Let Love In.”
This last week was rather lack-luster.Hilary lied about dodging snipers abroad, and McCain’s minister is full of more hateful rhetoric than Obama’s minister could even dream of. Politics as per usual.
It makes one wonder: Are we really only as good as the company we keep? If so, then how can we be expected to know exactly how our friends feel? If not, then how can we plead ignorance or distance ourselves from our friends when they come under fire?
On a lighter note, this week’s song is certainly “Sun Storm” by Mac Lethal. It’s funky fresh, yo.
I’m no expert on politics, or any social science for that matter. I can, however, recognize a repeat of an especially important historical fauxpas, and this CNN story reminded me quite a bit of the Watergate scandal that got Nixon and all of his cronies into quite a bit of trouble.
I’m not saying that McCain is behind this particular incident, but I will say that it seems as though the GOP is willing to surreptitiously sneak around, no matter how illegal, to dig up little vilifying victuals of Obama’s past. Unacceptable. But then, what sort of behavior do you really expect from them?
Recently, the media news has inundated us with stories and images of the misuse of police authority. I am not saying that excessive force is never necessary when dealing with especially combative suspects, but these recent reports have brought to light an issues that I think needs some serious further investigation.
I know quite a few police officers, and I fully understand and respect the rigors inherent in the job. The footage from CNN, and other stories, however, exhibit behavior that is absolutely unacceptable.
I was perusing the headlines just now, and I came across this BBC article.
As a previous high school student and a future high school teacher, I recognize that bullying by and harassment from peers is a real source of stress for marginalized students. Whether you’re calling someone a jock, a bitch, a jew, or a fag, you’re diminishing their humanity by ridiculing who who they are. Not only does using such language diminish their humanity, but it goes further to inflict actual psychological wounds. Words are burdened with much previous meaning and connotation. Therefore, every time the word nigger is used, hundreds of years of hatred and killing and abuse of black people are carried with it. Likewise, every time the word faggot is used, every gay hate crime ever committed is brought to bare, and that hurt is inflicted all over again. Words are never just words… they are very powerful things, indeed.
I was never physically harmed… mostly because I never really stood up for myself or challenged those who were being so cruel to me. For those who were, however, I extend sincere empathy.
This issue needs to be addressed on an extremely sweeping and broad base. The solution must be realized in elementary school classrooms and extend all the way onto the floor of the legislature.
So, here I am… cramming for a midterm in Chinese Landscape Painting. Why, Shaun are you taking such a class? Because, dear readers, the University requires its students to be well rounded… we want our History students to know some Biology, and we want our Chemistry students to be somewhat versed in foreign cultures… a noble idea, I suppose.
The painting above, if any of you were wondering, is a Song dynasty copy of Li Zhaodao’s “Emperor Minghuang’s Journey Into Shu.” Please take note of the caravan’s serpentine progression allowing for various spatial planes of the composition to be connected. Also of note is Li’s fine brush technique. This affords figural detail within the composition, and yet still allows him to maintain a strong sense of perspective throughout
I’m a teaching assistant, you see. If someone asked me to describe what makes me tick, I would first say that I am studying Neuroscience and Microbiology, and then secondly, I would say that I teach. I absolutely love teaching… I’m not sure what I love most about it, but I truly believe that there are few nobler things one could do than to pass a particular body of knowledge on to a group of people.
My dad’s a teacher… high school social studies. My mom went to school to be a teacher, but switched to nursing, as a junior. She has, none the less, taught quite a few nursing classes over the years. My brother’s about to graduate high school, and he too wants to teach… high school tech ed. I suppose you could say that teaching is one of the strongest common threads that holds my family’s identity together.
I’ve been a teaching assistant for 5 semesters now. I have more experience in the classroom setting than most graduates of our School of Education, and far more than is required of graduate students who successfully complete their PhD work in the Biology department.
The professor with whom I’ve TA’ed for the past 4 semesters, in both introductory and upper level classes, has told me that she doesn’t want me to go to med school, but instead she would like to see me go to graduate school and become a college lecturer. I just don’t know, though.
I know I want to teach… physicians teach, though. I’m hoping that after I’ve taught high school science for a couple years as a teaching fellow, I’ll have a clearer sense of where exactly I want to take my life.
As I stand before a lecture class of 200 students and talk about genomic evolution, I see many things. I see at least 10 or 15 nodding off, terribly bored and apathetic to the material I’m presenting… I see the regulars down in front who are so devilishly committed to doing well, they miss fewer words than a court stenographer… I see the majority of people who see this course as simply another obstacle standing between them and a degree… And finally, I see those who have entered college with an enormous burden placed upon them by their family or by themselves… the burden to do well and to take certain courses. They’d performed fine all throughout high school, they’d graduated with 4.0 GPA’s, and yet they’re struggling to get a C in this introductory Biology course.
I look back on my freshman year, and I remember how I wanted to go to my Biology and Chemistry lectures… how I wanted to learn as much as I could about myself and the world around me. I then ask myself: How do these people do it? How can they wake up each morning and look ahead at a day full of things they don’t want to be doing? What drives them to do something they don’t want to? If only we could all stop resisting ourselves and realize our own potentials and follow our own dream, I’m sure that this would be a much better world.
