It's no secret that the vast lands of Texas have suffered from undernourishment this summer. Day after day I have walked atop the parched earth, surrounded by tawny, brittle grass that has lost all traces of its verdant health, silently praying for its relief. Each morning I awoke with the hope that a merciful rain would quench the anemic land and restore it to its former vitality. In vain.
Today I was casually walking on campus to make a quick stop at the university library. At one point I looked up at the expansive sky to see shadows forming from promising clouds; it was surely going to rain today. I cursed softly because, well, as usual, I was lacking the proper accoutrements for rainy weather. "Maybe it won't start raining until I reach my car...", I thought.
Not the case.
I was presented with two options: wait it out or make a run for it. I chose neither.
Why is it that we are afraid to get wet? Why do we always wish to remain dry, clean, sheltered? Rain is often unexpected. Many times it is inconvenient. But it should be experienced with gratitude, not disdain; it is a gift, even if you are caught in the middle of it, completely unprepared.
Today I stepped leisurely through the pounding water, relishing the quick impact of the cold droplets on my skin. I took off my shoes. I didn't hasten my step, even when the rain picked up momentum. My clothes got utterly soaked, my hair became a wet and sticky mess.
It felt great. Healing.
Sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself is submit yourself to the events happening around you. It may be tempting to resist them, but you may find the freedom in letting go intoxicating. To shed your concerns and hesitations and make the moment yours... it is an experience we should seek often. Complete submission to the will of something bigger than you -- try it next time you get the chance. Walk, don't run, through the rain.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
We are a family! I got all my sisters with me!
This week I have retreated to Abilene, Texas. Never heard of it? Justifiable. It's even more uneventful than Bryan-College Station. But I don't go there for cultural attractions and crazy nightlife, I go there to get back in touch with who I am and where I came from.
My grandma lives in Abilene, next door to one of my uncles and his family. My other uncle and his corresponding fam live in Lubbock, which isn't too far from Abilene. So, for the past 21 years of my life, a couple times a year my family (used to be mom, dad, and bro, but now my mom is left out of it) makes the trek (approx. 4.5 hours from SAtown) to Abilene to see everyone.
So many memories have been made here. And almost all of them involve my grandpa. It's hard to believe the impact he's had on this town. We can't walk into many stores or restaurants without someone saying how much they loved and miss my Grandpa. He was a silly and gregarious person, as well as a kind soul with infectious blue, smiling eyes. Five months after his early death, I still have trouble thinking about him without wanting to sob.
My grandma has handled it well, but it's clear how much pain she is in. She talks about him all the time, mostly telling funny stories but occasionally remembering a touching memory that causes her to break down. Yesterday was her birthday, and she was greeted by a surprise visit from my brother and my Lubbock uncle. I thought she was going to have a heart attack. Last night, eight of us were gathered in the living room after she had opened presents and we passed around newly discovered pictures of my grandpa when he was in high school and when he was entering the service. Grandma told the story of how they met. I LOVE that story. It was such a comforting time, to be around people you have known your entire life and share both joyful and tearful memories. Crazy as they are, I love my family.
The purpose of this post is to encourage you to sit down today and look at what you have and the people who love you. Cherish the moment. My life philosophy for the past year or so has been to just live in the moment, and truly experience every moment as sincerely as you can. Being in the house of a lost loved one reminds me why.
So, in the words of Jason Mraz: Live high. Live mighty. Live righteously.
My grandma lives in Abilene, next door to one of my uncles and his family. My other uncle and his corresponding fam live in Lubbock, which isn't too far from Abilene. So, for the past 21 years of my life, a couple times a year my family (used to be mom, dad, and bro, but now my mom is left out of it) makes the trek (approx. 4.5 hours from SAtown) to Abilene to see everyone.
So many memories have been made here. And almost all of them involve my grandpa. It's hard to believe the impact he's had on this town. We can't walk into many stores or restaurants without someone saying how much they loved and miss my Grandpa. He was a silly and gregarious person, as well as a kind soul with infectious blue, smiling eyes. Five months after his early death, I still have trouble thinking about him without wanting to sob.
My grandma has handled it well, but it's clear how much pain she is in. She talks about him all the time, mostly telling funny stories but occasionally remembering a touching memory that causes her to break down. Yesterday was her birthday, and she was greeted by a surprise visit from my brother and my Lubbock uncle. I thought she was going to have a heart attack. Last night, eight of us were gathered in the living room after she had opened presents and we passed around newly discovered pictures of my grandpa when he was in high school and when he was entering the service. Grandma told the story of how they met. I LOVE that story. It was such a comforting time, to be around people you have known your entire life and share both joyful and tearful memories. Crazy as they are, I love my family.
The purpose of this post is to encourage you to sit down today and look at what you have and the people who love you. Cherish the moment. My life philosophy for the past year or so has been to just live in the moment, and truly experience every moment as sincerely as you can. Being in the house of a lost loved one reminds me why.
So, in the words of Jason Mraz: Live high. Live mighty. Live righteously.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Two plus two is what, again?
Note to self: if/when you become a professor, don't make ridiculous tests.
Well folks, today we got back our second Diff EQ test. Many things to talk about here. The talk of the pre-class (that is, the murmurs that take place during the 10 minutes before class) for the past few days has been all about the test. Here's some of the words I have heard exchanged:
Wtf.
I'm reaalllyyy worried about that test.
That was insane.
When are we getting them back? Wait...I actually don't want mine back.
And so forth. So yes, the consensus was that the test was difficult. What I love (hint: sarcasm) about my prof is that he seems to enjoy watching his students suffer. It would have been quite obvious to any third-party observer that this test was giving us problems. Frantic erasures, bullets of sweat, clenched fists, clawing of skin (and eyes), and let's not forget the ubiquitous blank stare -- all of these would indicate that, um, this was not going well for most.
If it were me, and I noticed this turmoil going on inside my student's naive minds, I would've addressed it the next day. I would have said, "Hey, I saw that most of you seemed pretty tense about the test...let's talk about some of the problems you had trouble with."
But no. My prof bravely shows his face the next day and jumps right on into the next chapter, without a single word pertaining to the hell we went through the day before. Not a word for the rest of the week, in fact (note: test was on Monday). Not even a mention of when he'll be done grading them.
Ugh.
Anyway, today turned out to be the promised day. Oh dear, where to begin. First of all, he hands out tests at the end of class (which I hate...why not just hand it out at the beginning since you know that's what everyone is thinking about anyway?). So after our fast and furious lecture, he finally starts to talk about the test. Only from a grades standpoint, though. Apparently he was feeling generous so he threw out one of the questions that he thought was awful to attempt. So everybody got 10 points on that one. Umm...we don't care, dude. Just tell us the curve.
"Now, the curve is.......(holding breath)......20 points." Holy crap. So 20 plus the freebie 10 is a whopping 30 point curve. And then he says there were 8 A's. Seriously???? After a 30 point curve there's only 8 A's? Shouldn't everybody have an A now?
Good grief.
So, let's review. First test = 15 point curve. Second test = 30 point curve. Pick-a-prof reviews indicate that this guy is an awful teacher and you will never do well on his tests, so just wait for the curve. My question is: why do we need to make these tests impossible to begin with? If this guy consistently has to give out 15+ point curves, shouldn't that indicate that the tests are a tad much? I get the let's-challenge-the-students mentality, and I'm all for it, but let me tell you something. Being dumbfounded by 70% of the test and making me question whether I can even add 2 + 2 does not help me learn. If anything, it hinders it and makes me feel completely incompetent. Is that the goal? It is if you're a jerk.
This is my first class that's ever used curves so I guess I'm still getting used to it. I'm very glad I'm not an engineer; I've heard most engineering classes are exactly like this. All that being said, I actually did quite well on the test. I'm not necessarily pleased, though, because it's (somewhat) hard to be pleased with a 98 when you see twenty points worth of X's on your test. Relieved is more like it. And sympathetic to those who didn't fare so well. I just don't understand why some professors get their joys out of raping students with their predatory tests.
Ranting over.
Well folks, today we got back our second Diff EQ test. Many things to talk about here. The talk of the pre-class (that is, the murmurs that take place during the 10 minutes before class) for the past few days has been all about the test. Here's some of the words I have heard exchanged:
Wtf.
I'm reaalllyyy worried about that test.
That was insane.
When are we getting them back? Wait...I actually don't want mine back.
And so forth. So yes, the consensus was that the test was difficult. What I love (hint: sarcasm) about my prof is that he seems to enjoy watching his students suffer. It would have been quite obvious to any third-party observer that this test was giving us problems. Frantic erasures, bullets of sweat, clenched fists, clawing of skin (and eyes), and let's not forget the ubiquitous blank stare -- all of these would indicate that, um, this was not going well for most.
If it were me, and I noticed this turmoil going on inside my student's naive minds, I would've addressed it the next day. I would have said, "Hey, I saw that most of you seemed pretty tense about the test...let's talk about some of the problems you had trouble with."
But no. My prof bravely shows his face the next day and jumps right on into the next chapter, without a single word pertaining to the hell we went through the day before. Not a word for the rest of the week, in fact (note: test was on Monday). Not even a mention of when he'll be done grading them.
Ugh.
Anyway, today turned out to be the promised day. Oh dear, where to begin. First of all, he hands out tests at the end of class (which I hate...why not just hand it out at the beginning since you know that's what everyone is thinking about anyway?). So after our fast and furious lecture, he finally starts to talk about the test. Only from a grades standpoint, though. Apparently he was feeling generous so he threw out one of the questions that he thought was awful to attempt. So everybody got 10 points on that one. Umm...we don't care, dude. Just tell us the curve.
"Now, the curve is.......(holding breath)......20 points." Holy crap. So 20 plus the freebie 10 is a whopping 30 point curve. And then he says there were 8 A's. Seriously???? After a 30 point curve there's only 8 A's? Shouldn't everybody have an A now?
Good grief.
So, let's review. First test = 15 point curve. Second test = 30 point curve. Pick-a-prof reviews indicate that this guy is an awful teacher and you will never do well on his tests, so just wait for the curve. My question is: why do we need to make these tests impossible to begin with? If this guy consistently has to give out 15+ point curves, shouldn't that indicate that the tests are a tad much? I get the let's-challenge-the-students mentality, and I'm all for it, but let me tell you something. Being dumbfounded by 70% of the test and making me question whether I can even add 2 + 2 does not help me learn. If anything, it hinders it and makes me feel completely incompetent. Is that the goal? It is if you're a jerk.
This is my first class that's ever used curves so I guess I'm still getting used to it. I'm very glad I'm not an engineer; I've heard most engineering classes are exactly like this. All that being said, I actually did quite well on the test. I'm not necessarily pleased, though, because it's (somewhat) hard to be pleased with a 98 when you see twenty points worth of X's on your test. Relieved is more like it. And sympathetic to those who didn't fare so well. I just don't understand why some professors get their joys out of raping students with their predatory tests.
Ranting over.
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