Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Gold Stars

(I was prompted to look at an alternative approach to education and consider the differences between it and JBU/ throw my own life in there somehow. Life is funny, and I just happened to have this little freak out this morning that pertained to the prompt… so I rambled a little longer than normal)

At about 10 a.m., 10/26/11

I am freaking out right now. I am freaking out because I have half of a research paper left to write for my Lit. class by tomorrow and about 30 more pages of Confessions to understand before Western Civ. I am having trouble with Augustine… probably because I’m trying to read it so quickly, but it doesn’t matter, it MUST be done, and it must be done soon. Oh, how glad I will be when this week is over.

Why am I freaking out? Well, because if I don’t understand and read all of Augustine, Dr. Moore will give us one of those in-class reflection questions, and I won’t do well on it, and it will affect my grade… and if I don’t finish that paper, and finish it well, I’ll get a bad grade, which will affect my grade, and GPA, and job/family/happy life in suburbia….

GOSH I WISH THOSE STUPID BELLS WOULD STOP RINGING, I CAN’T CONCENTRATE! Don’t they UNDERSTAND that I am TRYING to get GOOD GRADES HERE!!!!!!!!

Oh, why do I always wait until the last minute to do these sorts of things? It makes everything feel so meaningless. I weary of working for the little gold star stickers (at least the figurative ones, real gold star stickers would be AWESOME), they are never enough, anyway… I think I want understanding for the sake of understanding, but I’ve been hardwired to get straight A’s. After all, is there a difference?

About 12 hours later

So, what this blog was actually supposed to be about:

I thought about going to St. John’s College. I like books, and I like the idea of learning by studying and discussing books, but I was pretty much scared away from the college by the tuition.

The real appeal of St. John’s lies in this: the abandonment of grades and the embracing of the great books leads to a fuller understanding of the intrinsic value of knowledge. The motivation to learn does not have to be divided between the desire for good grades and the desire for understanding. Also, the students have more frequent access to the source of the knowledge found in textbooks. It’s not that I would really want to study calculus out of Newton’s Principia, but there is something freeing about it. The idea sort of tickles my romantic fancy.

I’m not saying that the students at St. John’s have completely pure (understanding for the sake of understanding) motives. Most of them are planning on some profession, and some of them must use what they learn for appearances sake (then again, who doesn’t).

Since JBU does give grades, grades will always be a potential motivator for students. So does that mean we eliminate grades? Do we eliminate the factor that has placed me above my peers and told me who I am? Heck yes. Or, maybe I should just eliminate the grades from my own mind… hmmmm…

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The Impossibilities

Laying in the ravine next to the Honors house on Sunday at 5:43 p.m. - I started thinking:

1. What if there were gumdrops inside acorns?

2. What if there were people who lived in the clouds and looked down on us and watched all of the things we did? Would they find us funny, or sad, or just crazy? Would they be transparent people, or  blue people, or cloudy looking people, or could they change with the weather?

3. What if one day the world just cracked open like an egg and the center spilled out all over space? (and then I started getting all philosophical and wondering if I could make that image mean something... I think I was trying too hard) But anyway - would the yolk start frying? Is space hot enough for that? Which way would it spill out? How do we know which way is up? What if we had it all wrong all along?

Then I stopped thinking, got up, and walked away. So, that wasn't seven... I am not disciplined with my impossible thinking.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

J-me, we have a problem...

When I'm no longer bound by secrecy, I'll talk about it... I think I'll learn from this failure, but mostly I'm discouraged by the amount of time I spend concentrating on myself, and the "mission" is making it uncomfortably clear...

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

What I Want 2.0

Prompt: (Go outside, then blog) And I want you to be real honest with yourself. Don’t listen to the voices in your head..don’t listen to the pressure you feel from either yourself, your parents, your friends, or any other source. I want you to listen to your heart. To truly listen to your heart. And then after you have spent time with yourself...I want you to go back inside and write. Write about it. Write about your dreams, your fears. Write about whatever tugs at your heartstrings. Just write.


I sat down with myself today to discuss the possibility that I’m focusing too much on introspection.

I am sick of her and her sympathetic expressions, her quiet condemnations.

She smiles at me and says, “Perhaps you do think too much. If you thought less, well, if you regulated what you thought about…” She leans over and pulls the mirror out of her purse and hands it to me. “We could be better.”

I see in it my reflection. “Here,” she says, pointing, “these parts are not quite right.”  She flips open her notepad and begins to write, listing fixes, “Watch fewer chick flicks, memorize a chapter of scripture every week, develop more friendships, try harder in cross country, do more community service…”

I think about lying on the floor of an art museum. I think about three year olds. I think about reading Oedipus the King while sitting in the ruin of a Greek theatre. I think about ice cream, and hymns, and really, really big trees. I think about my dad and how we dance around the family room singing Donovan songs, belting out phrases like, “Antediluvian Kings.”

She hands me her list. “God will just LOVE this, and I know we can do it!”

“Like hell we can.”

I touch the corner of her list to the end of my cigarette.