I look back on everything that has happened to me as a College student in the past few months, and I still cannot believe that so much time has passed already. I’m already being asked to reflect on things that seem like a blur, reflecting upon what my classes have taught me, my experiences, and my challenges.
An often not talked about issue with any kind of student is pride. I’ve had a major issue with this ever since I can remember. No matter how much help I actually need on any kind of subject, I will not seek it. I won’t talk to teachers, my parents, not even friends for any kind of assistance (other than, unfortunately, cheating). Personally, it’s because I feel that academia is the one thing that I am, or should be, good at, so if I got assistance, that would mean I’m just like everybody else. This has been quite an issue for me until this year.
I still remember the day that it hit me. We were in a class called “Strategies for College Success” naming off things which prevented us from academic success. A guy in the room blurted out “pride”. I had never really though of it as a condition, but after the discussion that ensued, I knew that’s what it was. Before then, I figured I was just a rare, obnoxiously stubborn student; but now I know I’m not the only one with this problem. When the issue of pride was addressed, I remember someone opening their statement with “Get over it” or something to that effect. It really did something for me. Nobody on this planet gets by without a little assistance, so who am I to deny it? I definitely learned that day that it’s okay to swallow my pride once in a while for the greater good. This lesson has already helped me in my experiences in college life, in more ways than solely academic.
Although I can’t say I am completely cured of my pride complex, I must say that it is getting better. Coming here, I figured I would have a normal experience, with nothing out of the ordinary happening to me (even, dare I say, easy). Little did I know I was in for a rude awakening, in more ways than one. Thinking that this whole experience would be a breeze caused my work to be lacking, therefore I got a bad start in two of my classes. Because of my arrogance, I put myself in a bad position which I am still squirming to get out of. I am hoping that in this second half of the semester, I can pick things up and salvage what I can and do better, which sounds like I’m waving the white flag but it is all I can do at this point. Although I hadn’t learned the pride lesson in time to save my current grades, I am proud to say that it has possibly saved me from getting into future trouble.
Another horribly misconception I had about college was that I would be in this little safe bubble which no one could or would penetrate. I was recently reminded of the fact that this world likes to throw curveballs. In high school, when someone would have an issue with me, my prideful self would not back down and it would eventually boil over. But at last week’s football game, a fairly large fan bumped into me, and then proceeded to act as if I had slapped him in the face. He began to curse and spit at me like tomorrow would never come. In the past, I would not have backed down and instead would have put myself right in his face. My pride wouldn’t have let me just walk away. So this time I got ready to do my normal routine when I thought to myself, 'This isn’t high school anymore … this guy and his buddies could seriously kill me. He’s drunk enough, he wouldn’t know any better.' I swallowed my pride and continued on my way. It was a big lesson to me that this isn’t my familiar high school territory anymore; I am basically living in a city all on my own, and there aren’t people who know me well enough here to bail me out of a petty fight. Rather, there are cops who will arrest me just as fast as they’ll arrest the other guy. This pride thing has been a challenge for me, but I believe that I’m conquering it as time progresses.
So far, College has definitely helped me with self-discovery. I’m learning more about myself, and my flaws. For the longest time, I have been stuck in this rut I would like to identify as a minor identity crisis. Depending on my mood, I will always switch between one of three envisioned futures for myself: one as a famous actor, one as a wealthy forensic psychologist, and one as an instructor of some kind. Each of these three paths have interested me all of my life, and I still can’t decide on which would best suit me. A career for me isn’t just a means to make money, but also a large contributor to my personal pursuit of happiness. So I am definitely looking forward to the next few years and the exploration that will occur. Hopefully, I will finally settle my mind, as far as in what direction I am going to go for the rest of my life.
College is definitely a new kind of beast I have yet to conquer. At first, I saw it as a way to fill the prerequisites to get a degree. But now I see it for what it truly is: a tool in my quest to be everything I can and should be. I am definitely looking forward to the rest of the semester, and, hopefully, I will seek all of the help that I can now say I truly need in order to overcome this large stepping stone in my life.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Love Me, Love My OCD
It’s no great secret that I’m obsessive-compulsive. One out of every fifty people has obsessive-compulsive disorder. In my group, I just happen to be the one.
Earlier in the semester, one of my professors asked me, referring to my OCD, "What does that mean?" I’m sure he only wanted to know how my accommodations would play into his class; but the real answer to his question is one that few people seem to understand. What does it mean to have OCD and be in college? Let me tell you.
It means that every single assignment is a big deal. A minor paper holds the same weight for me as a paper worth a quarter of my grade. So, I tend to write multiple drafts. I agonize over topics. I stop for an hour to research a grammar question. Not because I really need to know but because the idea of doing something wrong is terrifying.
It means that I overanalyze everything that the professors say to me. A short response to an email can result in hours of wondering what I might have done to offend or upset said professor. It means that sometimes I end up sounding like an idiot because I feel compelled to reply back and actually ask whether or not I’m in trouble.
It means that, despite my desire to be a perfect pupil, sometimes the homework doesn’t get done until the last minute, because I simply had to spend all night scrubbing the doorjamb. Or re-alphabetizing my bookshelves. Or checking my closet for wayward hangers facing the wrong direction.
It means that I’m allowed to take double time on tests — because I tend to check my work until I run out of time and can’t finish. It also means that if I don’t take extra time for any reason, I worry that I’m going to look like a fraud.
It means that I want to wash my hands thirty times a day when I’m on campus because I’m absolutely terrified of germs. (And while I love you all – you’re germy!)
It means that, if I say anything about having a disability, most people will look at me and respond, "But there’s nothing wrong with you." Being disabled in any way that is not immediately visible makes many people question your right to call yourself disabled, let alone your right to seek any kind of accommodation for the disability. They don’t understand that it isn’t about getting an advantage; it’s about overcoming the disadvantages that are already there.
Despite everything … it’s not tragic. It’s something that you learn to handle. It’s something I’ve learned to use. After all, perfectionism isn’t always a bad thing in college. And it makes me a really good note-taker. Yes, having OCD in college is a challenge. But life without challenges is boring.
OCD has taught me how to make fun of myself and how to tell the difference between the people who are laughing with me and the people who are laughing at me. It has also taught me how to advocate for myself, and how to find people who can advocate for me in situations that require it. In a way, it makes me a better student. Someday, it will make me a better therapist.
My point is this: Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. It doesn’t make me, or anyone else who lives with it, less capable of success. Not in college. Not in life. And even though I’ll spend the next week obsessively worrying that this post was a bad idea, I’m glad to be ‘coming out’ to all of you. For better or worse, ’til death do us part, I am obsessive-compulsive. Love me, love my OCD.
Earlier in the semester, one of my professors asked me, referring to my OCD, "What does that mean?" I’m sure he only wanted to know how my accommodations would play into his class; but the real answer to his question is one that few people seem to understand. What does it mean to have OCD and be in college? Let me tell you.
It means that every single assignment is a big deal. A minor paper holds the same weight for me as a paper worth a quarter of my grade. So, I tend to write multiple drafts. I agonize over topics. I stop for an hour to research a grammar question. Not because I really need to know but because the idea of doing something wrong is terrifying.
It means that I overanalyze everything that the professors say to me. A short response to an email can result in hours of wondering what I might have done to offend or upset said professor. It means that sometimes I end up sounding like an idiot because I feel compelled to reply back and actually ask whether or not I’m in trouble.
It means that, despite my desire to be a perfect pupil, sometimes the homework doesn’t get done until the last minute, because I simply had to spend all night scrubbing the doorjamb. Or re-alphabetizing my bookshelves. Or checking my closet for wayward hangers facing the wrong direction.
It means that I’m allowed to take double time on tests — because I tend to check my work until I run out of time and can’t finish. It also means that if I don’t take extra time for any reason, I worry that I’m going to look like a fraud.
It means that I want to wash my hands thirty times a day when I’m on campus because I’m absolutely terrified of germs. (And while I love you all – you’re germy!)
It means that, if I say anything about having a disability, most people will look at me and respond, "But there’s nothing wrong with you." Being disabled in any way that is not immediately visible makes many people question your right to call yourself disabled, let alone your right to seek any kind of accommodation for the disability. They don’t understand that it isn’t about getting an advantage; it’s about overcoming the disadvantages that are already there.
Despite everything … it’s not tragic. It’s something that you learn to handle. It’s something I’ve learned to use. After all, perfectionism isn’t always a bad thing in college. And it makes me a really good note-taker. Yes, having OCD in college is a challenge. But life without challenges is boring.
OCD has taught me how to make fun of myself and how to tell the difference between the people who are laughing with me and the people who are laughing at me. It has also taught me how to advocate for myself, and how to find people who can advocate for me in situations that require it. In a way, it makes me a better student. Someday, it will make me a better therapist.
My point is this: Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. It doesn’t make me, or anyone else who lives with it, less capable of success. Not in college. Not in life. And even though I’ll spend the next week obsessively worrying that this post was a bad idea, I’m glad to be ‘coming out’ to all of you. For better or worse, ’til death do us part, I am obsessive-compulsive. Love me, love my OCD.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Top Five Ways to Study for Exams
So, I’ve been getting back some of my midterms, and I must say… I did pretty good. I thought I would share what I do before a test, so that you guys can imitate it if you think it’s a good method.
5. Read the textbook over again … and remember it.
If a Biology Exam covers Chapters 14, 54, 55, and 56, reread them again. This may be very time consuming, but most textbooks nowadays bold the important terms and usually have a good chapter summary at the end to keep it concise. These are helpful, but they are only helpful if you can use them in problems. Don’t just glance over it, think about it in your head as you read through it, and understand it rather than memorize it. Although I personally don't need to, I know that lots of people need to make their own notes from the textbook so as not to let their attention wander away. See also #2.
4. Make some Cue Cards.
Although this doesn’t work for every course, it’s very useful in courses where memorization is key. For example, memorizing the derivatives of a logarithm, or memorizing the definition of all the terms related to Mitosis, I personally have two sets of cue cards; I have cue cards for Math and memorizing formulas and such, and I also have a set for Biology. I don’t take too many courses where memorization is necessary, but if I needed to, I'd have cue cards for all my courses.
3. Study Groups! … even if you’re a genius on your own.
Study Groups are excellent for pounding information in your head; they also make Studying a little bit less tedious and more fun. Your friends can help you answer questions you may have questions with, and if you are a genius, teaching someone how to do a problem will only further improve your genius-ness.
2. Make your own Note Sheet even if you already have Notes.
Making your own notes is something I do for almost every class (with the exception of English). I find making my own notes and writing the information in my own words helps me understand what I wrote down. There’s also something about writing with your hand, it makes an imprint on your brain of what you just wrote. (I know other people find word processing the notes better; not so good for me, but you might like to try it.) It may take awhile, but it will make a big difference. Another advantage is that leading up to the exam, you can review these notes. You're too late now for that massive textbook, and the notes you made at the actual lecture may or may not make sense to you.
1. Do your Homework.
Doing homework is the best possible way to study for anything. I find that if I keep up with Math / Physics / Chem / Bio Homework, when it comes time to study for an Exam, I think to myself, “I know this, so why am I even studying?”. Doing this homework may seem like a hassle to do every day, but in the long run, it will save you loads of time.
0. Keep your Cool
For all of the above, make sure you never get stressed or angry. Stress and Mood Swings are a big reason for people doing poorly in exams. I try to never get stressed for an exam, and stay easy going. I go into exams with confidence, thinking in my head, “I’m going to rock this exam!” and I come out usually doing so.
Hopefully these ideas will help!
5. Read the textbook over again … and remember it.
If a Biology Exam covers Chapters 14, 54, 55, and 56, reread them again. This may be very time consuming, but most textbooks nowadays bold the important terms and usually have a good chapter summary at the end to keep it concise. These are helpful, but they are only helpful if you can use them in problems. Don’t just glance over it, think about it in your head as you read through it, and understand it rather than memorize it. Although I personally don't need to, I know that lots of people need to make their own notes from the textbook so as not to let their attention wander away. See also #2.
4. Make some Cue Cards.
Although this doesn’t work for every course, it’s very useful in courses where memorization is key. For example, memorizing the derivatives of a logarithm, or memorizing the definition of all the terms related to Mitosis, I personally have two sets of cue cards; I have cue cards for Math and memorizing formulas and such, and I also have a set for Biology. I don’t take too many courses where memorization is necessary, but if I needed to, I'd have cue cards for all my courses.
3. Study Groups! … even if you’re a genius on your own.
Study Groups are excellent for pounding information in your head; they also make Studying a little bit less tedious and more fun. Your friends can help you answer questions you may have questions with, and if you are a genius, teaching someone how to do a problem will only further improve your genius-ness.
2. Make your own Note Sheet even if you already have Notes.
Making your own notes is something I do for almost every class (with the exception of English). I find making my own notes and writing the information in my own words helps me understand what I wrote down. There’s also something about writing with your hand, it makes an imprint on your brain of what you just wrote. (I know other people find word processing the notes better; not so good for me, but you might like to try it.) It may take awhile, but it will make a big difference. Another advantage is that leading up to the exam, you can review these notes. You're too late now for that massive textbook, and the notes you made at the actual lecture may or may not make sense to you.
1. Do your Homework.
Doing homework is the best possible way to study for anything. I find that if I keep up with Math / Physics / Chem / Bio Homework, when it comes time to study for an Exam, I think to myself, “I know this, so why am I even studying?”. Doing this homework may seem like a hassle to do every day, but in the long run, it will save you loads of time.
0. Keep your Cool
For all of the above, make sure you never get stressed or angry. Stress and Mood Swings are a big reason for people doing poorly in exams. I try to never get stressed for an exam, and stay easy going. I go into exams with confidence, thinking in my head, “I’m going to rock this exam!” and I come out usually doing so.
Hopefully these ideas will help!
Oh Be Quiet
"Mom, Dad – when I grow up, I want to wear rotting corduroy pants and a newsboy cap, carry a messenger bag, live on a diet of exclusively stale Mac and Cheese and copious amounts of caffeinated beverages."
Is that what you told your loving parents when you were in Grade 4? No, I thought not.
Because no child in their right mind could ever possibly picture the cornucopia of people and things that assaults our five (arguably six) senses on a daily, if not hourly, basis here. But that’s the whole point of it, after all: the idea of attending post-secondary school is admittedly, first and foremost, to graduate with a workable degree. And get a real job! You hooligans! … indeed. But the second, and debatably more important purpose, is to gain life experience (and, if you’re lucky, perhaps a minor semblance of self-sufficiency before you graduate. That would be nice). Here we are, students all, thrust whole-heartedly into the most open and inviting world we’ve ever experienced: one that insists that, not only should we learn, but we should use that knowledge to form our own opinions, solidify our own career paths, and most of all thoroughly enjoy what we’re learning about.
(Except for stats. No one, regardless of literary proficiency, will ever convince me that I could possibly enjoy taking that course. It is utterly horrid in its entirety. Blech).
These are the golden years – this is the highlight of our lives – this is when we should be making friends, forming our own unique sets of morals and values, trying new things, going new places, voting. These are the times we should be cherishing more than anything else; not because they’re all sunshine and lollipops, mind you, but because this is the phase in our life that will shape us for everything else we make, say, go to, or do.
But is there, after all, a point to all this, you ask? Is there a reason I’m gesticulating madly from my soap box like a centipede in a muscle spasm, madly attempting to profess to you the profound nature of this monumental period? Why there is, in fact, a point – something I’ve been meaning to say for ages. Something that every student here – athlete, club member, student government leader, TA – should hear, truly listen to, and heed well. This is something every Gen-X-er, who for some odd reason happens to have stumbled upon this piece, should heed: please, for crap’s sake, all of you, will you just stop your whining already!
I’m sick of it. No, really, I am – there are points at which I honestly feel ill listening to the apathetic masses complain about the same things every day. "Do you know how many hours of sleep I got last night? Two. That’s right, two. Not four – not three – two."
"My backpack is so heavy! My back is killing me! How can a single textbook weigh this much? I can’t believe I have to haul this thing across campus every day!"
"I have a ten page paper/in class exam/take-home assignment next week. I hate papers/exams/take-homes. Why couldn’t they just give us papers/exams/take-homes instead? I mean, every other class is doing them. Why are we the only ones stuck writing/taking/doing this stuff?"
Oh ye pagan gods of heathen things. Are you kidding me? I am so sick and tired of this constant griping. Yes, your backpack is heavy – guess, what, so is everyone else’s! Oh, yours is heaver than mine, you say? Well guess what else, wonder of wonders (appalling gasp!) this isn’t high school anymore. You can’t pack a single 50-page textbook into your backpack and be set for an entire day; this is the big league, manimals and invertebroads, and not only are the majority of your books probably going to weigh about 65 pounds, they’re going to cost you that much, too. So, here’s a novel idea: only bring the ones you need. Check your schedule to see what readings there are for that week. That way, your back will be in considerably less spasm, your mouth will be flapping a little lighter, and I’ll thus be able to solidify my restraint from a tedious ‘very-nearly-throttling-you’ to ‘wow-you’re-annoying-I-hope-you-leave-soon.’
Oh – you’re sleep deprived? Poor things. How odd that a student, of all people, should be the one forgoing blissful unconsciousness. Especially odd, considering that two thirds of the total profit from the leading coffee companies is drawn from young professionals and university brats. (Okay, I made that up, but let’s be honest, it’s probably pretty close.) Do you want me to turn into your mom? You know the drill, don’t procrastinate, do your work early, plan ahead, all that jibe. Well, guess, what. I won’t. You should have realized by now that one of the governing physical laws of campus life is, in Layman’s terms, "If you don’t do it, it don’t get done."
Holy guttersnipes, hey Wow! How awful that such a concept should apply here! How terrible that I, of all people, should be responsible for digging my own grave and setting my own procrastinating corpse in it! How utterly sadistic! How completely unfair! Well guess what, boils and ghouls: that’s the nature of life. And when (by some fluke) you actually do make it out of here, despite your constant lamenting diatribe to all things scholastic, it’ll be even more fun to realize that the next time you just out and out don’t do your assignment, far from losing a couple of percentages, the higher likelihood is they’ll just straight up fire you from that poor attempt at work you call a job.
Well, that’s pretty much all I have to say. Suck it up, nose to the grindstone, chin at your forehead, all that jazz. I’m not saying life’s not tough, I’m just saying it could be a heck of a lot tougher, and there are far more important things to irritate me by complaining about than the horror your life has become now that you’re suddenly forced to be accountable for your own actions.
University is not easy – that’s what internet degrees are for – because, wonder of wonders, a post-secondary education actually has some merit in the rest of our normal lives and is more likely than not going to prevent you from cleaning the deep-fryer for the rest of your waking life. So, stop bugging me, please … I know it’s hard, but just give it a good effort.
And remember – if ever you see me coming, and for some reason you get the urge to rest your inflated head on my world-weary shoulder, just think of it this way: I don’t want pessimists, but I don’t need optimists; I just need realists. By that I mean, life isn’t sadistic, it’s just masochistic – it may still be painful, but let’s be honest, that’s the way you like it. Must be; the only one making it like that is you.
Is that what you told your loving parents when you were in Grade 4? No, I thought not.
Because no child in their right mind could ever possibly picture the cornucopia of people and things that assaults our five (arguably six) senses on a daily, if not hourly, basis here. But that’s the whole point of it, after all: the idea of attending post-secondary school is admittedly, first and foremost, to graduate with a workable degree. And get a real job! You hooligans! … indeed. But the second, and debatably more important purpose, is to gain life experience (and, if you’re lucky, perhaps a minor semblance of self-sufficiency before you graduate. That would be nice). Here we are, students all, thrust whole-heartedly into the most open and inviting world we’ve ever experienced: one that insists that, not only should we learn, but we should use that knowledge to form our own opinions, solidify our own career paths, and most of all thoroughly enjoy what we’re learning about.
(Except for stats. No one, regardless of literary proficiency, will ever convince me that I could possibly enjoy taking that course. It is utterly horrid in its entirety. Blech).
These are the golden years – this is the highlight of our lives – this is when we should be making friends, forming our own unique sets of morals and values, trying new things, going new places, voting. These are the times we should be cherishing more than anything else; not because they’re all sunshine and lollipops, mind you, but because this is the phase in our life that will shape us for everything else we make, say, go to, or do.
But is there, after all, a point to all this, you ask? Is there a reason I’m gesticulating madly from my soap box like a centipede in a muscle spasm, madly attempting to profess to you the profound nature of this monumental period? Why there is, in fact, a point – something I’ve been meaning to say for ages. Something that every student here – athlete, club member, student government leader, TA – should hear, truly listen to, and heed well. This is something every Gen-X-er, who for some odd reason happens to have stumbled upon this piece, should heed: please, for crap’s sake, all of you, will you just stop your whining already!
I’m sick of it. No, really, I am – there are points at which I honestly feel ill listening to the apathetic masses complain about the same things every day. "Do you know how many hours of sleep I got last night? Two. That’s right, two. Not four – not three – two."
"My backpack is so heavy! My back is killing me! How can a single textbook weigh this much? I can’t believe I have to haul this thing across campus every day!"
"I have a ten page paper/in class exam/take-home assignment next week. I hate papers/exams/take-homes. Why couldn’t they just give us papers/exams/take-homes instead? I mean, every other class is doing them. Why are we the only ones stuck writing/taking/doing this stuff?"
Oh ye pagan gods of heathen things. Are you kidding me? I am so sick and tired of this constant griping. Yes, your backpack is heavy – guess, what, so is everyone else’s! Oh, yours is heaver than mine, you say? Well guess what else, wonder of wonders (appalling gasp!) this isn’t high school anymore. You can’t pack a single 50-page textbook into your backpack and be set for an entire day; this is the big league, manimals and invertebroads, and not only are the majority of your books probably going to weigh about 65 pounds, they’re going to cost you that much, too. So, here’s a novel idea: only bring the ones you need. Check your schedule to see what readings there are for that week. That way, your back will be in considerably less spasm, your mouth will be flapping a little lighter, and I’ll thus be able to solidify my restraint from a tedious ‘very-nearly-throttling-you’ to ‘wow-you’re-annoying-I-hope-you-leave-soon.’
Oh – you’re sleep deprived? Poor things. How odd that a student, of all people, should be the one forgoing blissful unconsciousness. Especially odd, considering that two thirds of the total profit from the leading coffee companies is drawn from young professionals and university brats. (Okay, I made that up, but let’s be honest, it’s probably pretty close.) Do you want me to turn into your mom? You know the drill, don’t procrastinate, do your work early, plan ahead, all that jibe. Well, guess, what. I won’t. You should have realized by now that one of the governing physical laws of campus life is, in Layman’s terms, "If you don’t do it, it don’t get done."
Holy guttersnipes, hey Wow! How awful that such a concept should apply here! How terrible that I, of all people, should be responsible for digging my own grave and setting my own procrastinating corpse in it! How utterly sadistic! How completely unfair! Well guess what, boils and ghouls: that’s the nature of life. And when (by some fluke) you actually do make it out of here, despite your constant lamenting diatribe to all things scholastic, it’ll be even more fun to realize that the next time you just out and out don’t do your assignment, far from losing a couple of percentages, the higher likelihood is they’ll just straight up fire you from that poor attempt at work you call a job.
Well, that’s pretty much all I have to say. Suck it up, nose to the grindstone, chin at your forehead, all that jazz. I’m not saying life’s not tough, I’m just saying it could be a heck of a lot tougher, and there are far more important things to irritate me by complaining about than the horror your life has become now that you’re suddenly forced to be accountable for your own actions.
University is not easy – that’s what internet degrees are for – because, wonder of wonders, a post-secondary education actually has some merit in the rest of our normal lives and is more likely than not going to prevent you from cleaning the deep-fryer for the rest of your waking life. So, stop bugging me, please … I know it’s hard, but just give it a good effort.
And remember – if ever you see me coming, and for some reason you get the urge to rest your inflated head on my world-weary shoulder, just think of it this way: I don’t want pessimists, but I don’t need optimists; I just need realists. By that I mean, life isn’t sadistic, it’s just masochistic – it may still be painful, but let’s be honest, that’s the way you like it. Must be; the only one making it like that is you.
Sex
It’s September, and the halls of the University are flooded with students, both returning and brand new.
It’s an exciting time for everyone, but what you may not know is that you’re starting a semester of school in probably the best era in history for all things love and sex.
Hetero-dabbling in unconventional sex is no longer a taboo topic. LGBT kids just a few years younger than myself are talking about how much easier it is to be queer in high school these days. It’s a fine time.
Granted, bigotry and sexual repression haven’t been completely erased and probably never will be. The ex-gay movement seems to be gaining traction. That's where people who're allegedly former gays try to make converts out of current gays.
With that in mind, nearly anything is sexually possible at school. For many students, university is their very first taste of freedom. The halls, tunnels, and grounds of a college campus have traditionally been places of experimentation, boundary-smashing, and all-round non-judgmental sex. So there’s no excuse not to have the kind of sex you want to have, or to be in the kind of relationship you want to be in.
If you were the only gay kid in your town of 400, now’s your chance to meet others like yourself. If you’ve enrolled with the express intention of locking down a husband (or wife), you’re in the right place.
If you’ve always fantasized about various unconventional practices the editors won't let me list, this might be the best place to find willing participants.
The point is, you’re in a place that’s nurtured sexual experimentation for eons, and an era in which just about anything goes, so stop being self-conscious and enjoy yourself.
That said, there are a few cautions.
STDs can be treated, and in many cases, except for AIDS, cured. But you'll probably go through extreme discomfort along the way: both the disease and the treatment. You could be out of serious action for a while, including not being up for classes, labs, exams, etc. These things have a habit of hitting you at the exact worst time.
AIDS can be treated. The treatments will be improved. But for now, it's a real, big-time downer, second only to heroin addiction. (Be careful of heroin too. Like stay away from it.)
Sexual repression may be at an all-time low, but these diseases are not. So, everyone, be safe all the time. In a long-term relationship? Are you certain your partner was previously a virgin? Either both get tested, or don't (excuse me!) let things slip.
Disease is the first thing. The second is recreational drugs, including the zonker of choice for most, alcohol. Predators are out there. And apart form that, people get into stuff (excuse me again!) that they wouldn't when they were sober. Make decisions when you're sober, and stick to them when you're not.
Third and finally: be aware of the emotional consequences. Some people are capable of having completely emotion-free sex, but most aren’t. Bearing that in mind, be courteous and respectful. Sure, no can sometimes mean yes. But you gotta be sure. If it's not consensual -- totally and genuinely consensual, then it's exploitation, rape, whatever. Unless you're a sociopath, you'll get hurt as well as the other person.
It’s an exciting time for everyone, but what you may not know is that you’re starting a semester of school in probably the best era in history for all things love and sex.
Hetero-dabbling in unconventional sex is no longer a taboo topic. LGBT kids just a few years younger than myself are talking about how much easier it is to be queer in high school these days. It’s a fine time.
Granted, bigotry and sexual repression haven’t been completely erased and probably never will be. The ex-gay movement seems to be gaining traction. That's where people who're allegedly former gays try to make converts out of current gays.
With that in mind, nearly anything is sexually possible at school. For many students, university is their very first taste of freedom. The halls, tunnels, and grounds of a college campus have traditionally been places of experimentation, boundary-smashing, and all-round non-judgmental sex. So there’s no excuse not to have the kind of sex you want to have, or to be in the kind of relationship you want to be in.
If you were the only gay kid in your town of 400, now’s your chance to meet others like yourself. If you’ve enrolled with the express intention of locking down a husband (or wife), you’re in the right place.
If you’ve always fantasized about various unconventional practices the editors won't let me list, this might be the best place to find willing participants.
The point is, you’re in a place that’s nurtured sexual experimentation for eons, and an era in which just about anything goes, so stop being self-conscious and enjoy yourself.
That said, there are a few cautions.
STDs can be treated, and in many cases, except for AIDS, cured. But you'll probably go through extreme discomfort along the way: both the disease and the treatment. You could be out of serious action for a while, including not being up for classes, labs, exams, etc. These things have a habit of hitting you at the exact worst time.
AIDS can be treated. The treatments will be improved. But for now, it's a real, big-time downer, second only to heroin addiction. (Be careful of heroin too. Like stay away from it.)
Sexual repression may be at an all-time low, but these diseases are not. So, everyone, be safe all the time. In a long-term relationship? Are you certain your partner was previously a virgin? Either both get tested, or don't (excuse me!) let things slip.
Disease is the first thing. The second is recreational drugs, including the zonker of choice for most, alcohol. Predators are out there. And apart form that, people get into stuff (excuse me again!) that they wouldn't when they were sober. Make decisions when you're sober, and stick to them when you're not.
Third and finally: be aware of the emotional consequences. Some people are capable of having completely emotion-free sex, but most aren’t. Bearing that in mind, be courteous and respectful. Sure, no can sometimes mean yes. But you gotta be sure. If it's not consensual -- totally and genuinely consensual, then it's exploitation, rape, whatever. Unless you're a sociopath, you'll get hurt as well as the other person.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
A City I Now Call Home
This is the condensed introduction, rehearsed to perfection, that has brought me great success in making acquaintances at the self-contained City that this University really is. I even know which words to emphasize to significantly increase my chances of making acquaintances. However, I say acquaintances instead of friends because only three weeks have gone by and I haven't had the time to share life stories, experience the hysteria of finals, or suffer stomachaches from the dining hall food (because suffering together always brings people closer) - all necessary to establishing lifelong friendships. And because I've always had the best friends back home, it's been a bit lonely.
I live in a dormitory area located on the north side of the campus. The north side is quiet and dormant; crickets sing their mating songs without disturbance; horses and carriages are still the primary mode of transportation; aliens drop by to kidnap earthlings only to leave discouraged and empty-handed; and the city lights in the distance are a solemn reminder that we are stranded.
This area is on a hill. To bike enthusiasts, the hill presents an opportunity to break the sound barrier as they ride down texting and sipping coffee. But to the ill-advised, ignorant first-years, equipped with nothing but flabby limbs and desperation for shelter, it is a problem. So for even the most ambitious first-year looking for a social life, the 30- to 40-minute walk to the south side of campus and back is a lofty endeavor.
In addition to the distance and incline, this isn't exactly the safest campus in the world. In fact, the first words from our lovely residential director and advisers were about the possible dangers that lurk outside. So while most people continue to enjoy themselves through the night, the "Hillbillies" retreat to the dorms when the sun goes down to avoid the potential of being attacked by a homeless person.
But contrary to the warning, the homeless have done more good to me than bad. They sing songs playing an old, out-of-tune guitar in front of the giant block many classes are held in, and they acknowledge my existence - something most of my fellow students do not. Essentially, the homeless people are an addition to the campus that makes it vibrant and different.
Apart from the homeless, this University has people I've never met before: communists, socialists, folks who sit on poles, protesters, a 7-foot-6-inch Chinese man, and people talking to themselves. Everything has been new to me, a happy- go-lucky kid from suburbia. The sights, sounds and tastes have all been different, some for the good, some not.
Even though I complain about our Dorm's hilltop location, I recently saw a sun set in HD quality without any smog to alter its beauty. The next day, I ran around a forest glade at midnight with a hundred people playing Capture the Flag.
Two Saturdays ago, I saw the entire city in unity as we destroyed our traditional first-game football rivals 52-13. At the stadium, I was able to partake in the loud shouting and the card stunt which, if it had lacked my individual performance, might have altered the score detrimentally. Looking up at the crowd, the sea of Our Colors and shouting "Go Go Go" in a fashion that is no longer a pre-adolescent high school screech, I realized I'm part of something special.
And although every day has something new, some things are starting to become consistent. I've found where I can avoid starvation, which road leads me to my desired destination without endangering my life, and which bathroom stalls accommodate my needs. But more significantly, I'm starting to see more of the same people instead of constantly meeting new people only to have them go MIA.
I think this means I'm on the path to making friends and not just acquaintances. I think the loneliness is going to disappear. And I think I'm starting to call this place home.
I live in a dormitory area located on the north side of the campus. The north side is quiet and dormant; crickets sing their mating songs without disturbance; horses and carriages are still the primary mode of transportation; aliens drop by to kidnap earthlings only to leave discouraged and empty-handed; and the city lights in the distance are a solemn reminder that we are stranded.
This area is on a hill. To bike enthusiasts, the hill presents an opportunity to break the sound barrier as they ride down texting and sipping coffee. But to the ill-advised, ignorant first-years, equipped with nothing but flabby limbs and desperation for shelter, it is a problem. So for even the most ambitious first-year looking for a social life, the 30- to 40-minute walk to the south side of campus and back is a lofty endeavor.
In addition to the distance and incline, this isn't exactly the safest campus in the world. In fact, the first words from our lovely residential director and advisers were about the possible dangers that lurk outside. So while most people continue to enjoy themselves through the night, the "Hillbillies" retreat to the dorms when the sun goes down to avoid the potential of being attacked by a homeless person.
But contrary to the warning, the homeless have done more good to me than bad. They sing songs playing an old, out-of-tune guitar in front of the giant block many classes are held in, and they acknowledge my existence - something most of my fellow students do not. Essentially, the homeless people are an addition to the campus that makes it vibrant and different.
Apart from the homeless, this University has people I've never met before: communists, socialists, folks who sit on poles, protesters, a 7-foot-6-inch Chinese man, and people talking to themselves. Everything has been new to me, a happy- go-lucky kid from suburbia. The sights, sounds and tastes have all been different, some for the good, some not.
Even though I complain about our Dorm's hilltop location, I recently saw a sun set in HD quality without any smog to alter its beauty. The next day, I ran around a forest glade at midnight with a hundred people playing Capture the Flag.
Two Saturdays ago, I saw the entire city in unity as we destroyed our traditional first-game football rivals 52-13. At the stadium, I was able to partake in the loud shouting and the card stunt which, if it had lacked my individual performance, might have altered the score detrimentally. Looking up at the crowd, the sea of Our Colors and shouting "Go Go Go" in a fashion that is no longer a pre-adolescent high school screech, I realized I'm part of something special.
And although every day has something new, some things are starting to become consistent. I've found where I can avoid starvation, which road leads me to my desired destination without endangering my life, and which bathroom stalls accommodate my needs. But more significantly, I'm starting to see more of the same people instead of constantly meeting new people only to have them go MIA.
I think this means I'm on the path to making friends and not just acquaintances. I think the loneliness is going to disappear. And I think I'm starting to call this place home.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Reflecting Back on the Semester
I know that the semester isn't quite over yet, that I still have to suffer through exams. But I feel like I have reached a major milestone in my life right now.
The first semester has flown by, I will be returning home for the first time, and now I can look back and realize how much I have grown as an individual: Intellectually, Socially, Spiritually.
To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it.
-Kurt Vonnegut.
I've come to realize that life shouldn't be about proving yourself to others, but proving yourself to yourself. For so long I have been ignorant to this idea, and it is unbelievable how much easier life is now. I'm so content with where I am, who I've become and what I can be. I only hope that I can continue in this upward direction throughout my time here at this university.
Now it's time to pack up, ship out, and eat some turkey.
The first semester has flown by, I will be returning home for the first time, and now I can look back and realize how much I have grown as an individual: Intellectually, Socially, Spiritually.
To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it.
-Kurt Vonnegut.
I've come to realize that life shouldn't be about proving yourself to others, but proving yourself to yourself. For so long I have been ignorant to this idea, and it is unbelievable how much easier life is now. I'm so content with where I am, who I've become and what I can be. I only hope that I can continue in this upward direction throughout my time here at this university.
Now it's time to pack up, ship out, and eat some turkey.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Accommodation in University
I go to university in a big city so there are plenty of places to choose from to live. One choice is Residence, otherwise known as Dorm. There, you will find a species of animal referred to as the Residential Advisor, RA.
Normally I wouldn’t have had much to do with an RA. I thought of them as being grumpy or nerdy monitors, yelling at people to turn the music down, and making sure drinking and smoking didn’t get out of hand. Killers of all that was fun and good. But I didn’t think of them as being there to guide us first years, be a mentor and help with inevitable stresses and conflicts.
Then my roommate went missing; the last time I saw him, he was drunk out of his mind. So I knocked on my RA’s door at 3 am and he called the police. It might seem unusual that he would do that for an 18 year old first year student who was only missing for a few hours. But three weeks before, a senior student had been abducted and murdered. The security around the university increased greatly. They put extra lights up and extra security guards on duty. There was a lot of panic and parents were emailing their kids to not leave their rooms. Security even devised a system where you could register your cell phone and they would send out mass text messages with any security alerts. We haven't had any incidents since then, but every now and again our parents see one on the TV from somewhere else, and we all get calls asking us if we're OK and telling us never to go out after dark. Trouble is, a couple of horrendous incidents have happened in lectures, so your parents don't know what to tell you to not do.
After this experience with my RA (by the way, my roommate was found), I got to know him well and went to him a few times when I needed help. So if you have an RA, you might be surprised how much he or she can help. They have been through it all before and it is fresh in their mind. Use that to your advantage if you can.
Anyway, second year, most of us were looking for off-campus accommodation. It's a big city, so there are lots of choices. What you do find, though, is that as you walk from outside towards the University, the rent jumps by hundreds of dollars in ten blocks. It’s very annoying because you know you can live somewhere further away for half the price but then you would have to take the bus or drive to class every day and pay for parking. Buses are never there when they're supposed to be, or when you need them, and student parking spaces can be further away from where you need to go than some people's apartments are. It's a dilemma.
I ended up in a house of four. At first we all had a good time, but then things changed. One guy was very selfish and stubborn; he thought since he paid to rent his room, he could do whatever he liked and bring in whoever he wanted. So he would bring drug dealer type people home and we didn’t want them in our house. We didn’t even know their names because he called each one “John”. A lot of things would happen that we weren’t ok with, but each time we tried to talk to him about it, he would say “I pay my share of the rent so I can do this”.
Another guy in the house drove me nuts because his parents owned the house that we lived in; they bought it for him and his friends to live in while they went to school. But this guy thought that just because his parents owned the place, he should always get the last word and his way about everything. It annoyed me because we were paying rent and he was not.
This year, I'm back in the dorm, and I have a whole different perspective on roommate problems because I am an RA myself. I get called on all the time to mediate disagreements and I can’t help but think to myself, grow up guys. Two of the guys on my floor who were put together are polar opposites. They have many different beliefs which made it difficult to get along, to start with. One didn’t drink because of his religion; he went to bed at a certain time and that sort of thing. Not so the other one, and it became a battle of epic proportions. It got so bad that they had schedules when the window could be open, when the window could be shut, when the lights could be on and when the lights should be off. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and put them in different rooms.
Things like this do happen. Having roommates can be either a great situation or awful. But most people find that most of the time, if they occasionally think about how best to get along, it works just fine.
Normally I wouldn’t have had much to do with an RA. I thought of them as being grumpy or nerdy monitors, yelling at people to turn the music down, and making sure drinking and smoking didn’t get out of hand. Killers of all that was fun and good. But I didn’t think of them as being there to guide us first years, be a mentor and help with inevitable stresses and conflicts.
Then my roommate went missing; the last time I saw him, he was drunk out of his mind. So I knocked on my RA’s door at 3 am and he called the police. It might seem unusual that he would do that for an 18 year old first year student who was only missing for a few hours. But three weeks before, a senior student had been abducted and murdered. The security around the university increased greatly. They put extra lights up and extra security guards on duty. There was a lot of panic and parents were emailing their kids to not leave their rooms. Security even devised a system where you could register your cell phone and they would send out mass text messages with any security alerts. We haven't had any incidents since then, but every now and again our parents see one on the TV from somewhere else, and we all get calls asking us if we're OK and telling us never to go out after dark. Trouble is, a couple of horrendous incidents have happened in lectures, so your parents don't know what to tell you to not do.
After this experience with my RA (by the way, my roommate was found), I got to know him well and went to him a few times when I needed help. So if you have an RA, you might be surprised how much he or she can help. They have been through it all before and it is fresh in their mind. Use that to your advantage if you can.
Anyway, second year, most of us were looking for off-campus accommodation. It's a big city, so there are lots of choices. What you do find, though, is that as you walk from outside towards the University, the rent jumps by hundreds of dollars in ten blocks. It’s very annoying because you know you can live somewhere further away for half the price but then you would have to take the bus or drive to class every day and pay for parking. Buses are never there when they're supposed to be, or when you need them, and student parking spaces can be further away from where you need to go than some people's apartments are. It's a dilemma.
I ended up in a house of four. At first we all had a good time, but then things changed. One guy was very selfish and stubborn; he thought since he paid to rent his room, he could do whatever he liked and bring in whoever he wanted. So he would bring drug dealer type people home and we didn’t want them in our house. We didn’t even know their names because he called each one “John”. A lot of things would happen that we weren’t ok with, but each time we tried to talk to him about it, he would say “I pay my share of the rent so I can do this”.
Another guy in the house drove me nuts because his parents owned the house that we lived in; they bought it for him and his friends to live in while they went to school. But this guy thought that just because his parents owned the place, he should always get the last word and his way about everything. It annoyed me because we were paying rent and he was not.
This year, I'm back in the dorm, and I have a whole different perspective on roommate problems because I am an RA myself. I get called on all the time to mediate disagreements and I can’t help but think to myself, grow up guys. Two of the guys on my floor who were put together are polar opposites. They have many different beliefs which made it difficult to get along, to start with. One didn’t drink because of his religion; he went to bed at a certain time and that sort of thing. Not so the other one, and it became a battle of epic proportions. It got so bad that they had schedules when the window could be open, when the window could be shut, when the lights could be on and when the lights should be off. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and put them in different rooms.
Things like this do happen. Having roommates can be either a great situation or awful. But most people find that most of the time, if they occasionally think about how best to get along, it works just fine.
I Thought I Knew my Boyfriend
I have dated Noah for two years and I can’t believe what I just found out: he took drugs in his first year and he slept around.
Even though I am in a really difficult program, I had a great experience my freshman year. There were forty kids on the floor and I am still close with half of them. Some would go out and drink every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night and that was their way of having a good time. Now I am not saying that I didn't go out drinking during my freshman year but it wasn't like what I found out my boyfriend used to do: he would go to parties, hook up with whomever, sleep with them, and then not remember what happened the next day. Sometimes if he remembered who it was, he would go out of his way to avoid them. I know this kind of thing happens but it just didn't happen to me. I wasn’t into that kind of scene. He doesn’t seem the type either, if there is such a thing as a ‘type’.
He also recently told me that drugs are what got him through his first year. He said Adderall was really good for cramming so during finals week, he would pop one, get in a corner, study like crazy and ace his exam the next day. Sometimes he would not remember taking it and would wonder how he did so well. He would also smoke weed daily. I have never tried any of this stuff nor would I want to.
I’m not sure how I feel about my boyfriend now. I thought I knew him. Obviously not. I wish he hadn’t told me.
Even though I am in a really difficult program, I had a great experience my freshman year. There were forty kids on the floor and I am still close with half of them. Some would go out and drink every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night and that was their way of having a good time. Now I am not saying that I didn't go out drinking during my freshman year but it wasn't like what I found out my boyfriend used to do: he would go to parties, hook up with whomever, sleep with them, and then not remember what happened the next day. Sometimes if he remembered who it was, he would go out of his way to avoid them. I know this kind of thing happens but it just didn't happen to me. I wasn’t into that kind of scene. He doesn’t seem the type either, if there is such a thing as a ‘type’.
He also recently told me that drugs are what got him through his first year. He said Adderall was really good for cramming so during finals week, he would pop one, get in a corner, study like crazy and ace his exam the next day. Sometimes he would not remember taking it and would wonder how he did so well. He would also smoke weed daily. I have never tried any of this stuff nor would I want to.
I’m not sure how I feel about my boyfriend now. I thought I knew him. Obviously not. I wish he hadn’t told me.
Adderall Revisited
I don’t suggest taking Adderall. But if you don’t have a prescription and it happens to fall in your hands and you happen to take it, you have to have work right in front of you. If you don’t, it will do you no good.
I would clean my room from top to bottom, vacuum and dust, wash floors, and still have a 25 page paper due. I would think, where did the time go and why didn’t I do that? Once I took it to write a paper and chat popped up. I spent the evening chatting to everyone I knew and completely forgot to do my work; I had these in depth conversations about all sorts of deep issues, many with people I hardly knew. But my paper did not get done.
Adderall is very common around here. During finals week, you will get thirty texts, all saying ‘hey do you know where I can get Adderall for a friend of mine?’. And the price per pill doubles or triples during that week. I had a roommate last year who had ADD so she had a prescription for Adderall. But she wouldn’t take the pills; instead she would hoard them for finals week because she knew she could sell them and make hundreds of dollars. Then she would text everyone she knew, ‘I have Adderall, come find me’. She was already rich when she started but now …
Unfortunately, because this kind of thing happens so much, it makes it hard for kids who actually have ADD and need Adderall to focus; they often have to jump through hoops to get their scripts filled because of the abuse.
There are other kinds of drugs around here too: a fair amount of cocaine, weed, ecstasy, shrooms and acid. People have different attitudes about it. I don’t smoke but sometimes I forget that weed is illegal because people often do it out in the open here. They smoke it at parties or in the bathroom or on the way to school. Walking into this building today, there was a group of kids sitting on the hill smoking a bowl. I bet they will still be there smoking another one when I am on my way out.
In the dorms, you are told that if they catch you smoking you are out. But people towel the door and spray air freshener or fabric softener. Or they smoke into a cardboard tube or water bottle with the end cut off and dryer sheets stuffed into it so that it blows out a clean and nice smell.
Eventually the kids who don’t do anything but smoke or drink during first year will either drop out or get kicked out. When you are a freshman, it is too easy to not go to class. Many get here and think “I love college, I sit in my dorm room and smoke and drink when I want, and party weekends and weeknights, and I don’t go to class and I cram during finals week and I love my life, and I live in a dorm and I don’t pay bills, I don’t pay utilities, I don’t buy food, this is the life’. But with no structure and drugs and alcohol readily available, you will slide if you don’t learn to say no. If you do not go to your classes, you cannot make that up, no matter how much studying you do or how much Adderall you take.
I would clean my room from top to bottom, vacuum and dust, wash floors, and still have a 25 page paper due. I would think, where did the time go and why didn’t I do that? Once I took it to write a paper and chat popped up. I spent the evening chatting to everyone I knew and completely forgot to do my work; I had these in depth conversations about all sorts of deep issues, many with people I hardly knew. But my paper did not get done.
Adderall is very common around here. During finals week, you will get thirty texts, all saying ‘hey do you know where I can get Adderall for a friend of mine?’. And the price per pill doubles or triples during that week. I had a roommate last year who had ADD so she had a prescription for Adderall. But she wouldn’t take the pills; instead she would hoard them for finals week because she knew she could sell them and make hundreds of dollars. Then she would text everyone she knew, ‘I have Adderall, come find me’. She was already rich when she started but now …
Unfortunately, because this kind of thing happens so much, it makes it hard for kids who actually have ADD and need Adderall to focus; they often have to jump through hoops to get their scripts filled because of the abuse.
There are other kinds of drugs around here too: a fair amount of cocaine, weed, ecstasy, shrooms and acid. People have different attitudes about it. I don’t smoke but sometimes I forget that weed is illegal because people often do it out in the open here. They smoke it at parties or in the bathroom or on the way to school. Walking into this building today, there was a group of kids sitting on the hill smoking a bowl. I bet they will still be there smoking another one when I am on my way out.
In the dorms, you are told that if they catch you smoking you are out. But people towel the door and spray air freshener or fabric softener. Or they smoke into a cardboard tube or water bottle with the end cut off and dryer sheets stuffed into it so that it blows out a clean and nice smell.
Eventually the kids who don’t do anything but smoke or drink during first year will either drop out or get kicked out. When you are a freshman, it is too easy to not go to class. Many get here and think “I love college, I sit in my dorm room and smoke and drink when I want, and party weekends and weeknights, and I don’t go to class and I cram during finals week and I love my life, and I live in a dorm and I don’t pay bills, I don’t pay utilities, I don’t buy food, this is the life’. But with no structure and drugs and alcohol readily available, you will slide if you don’t learn to say no. If you do not go to your classes, you cannot make that up, no matter how much studying you do or how much Adderall you take.
Paid Employment while at University
Most of my friends here have paid employment, usually for about twenty hours a week. Not everyone of course; one girl I know does molecular biology, and with the labs and the rest of the workload, she has no time and neither do most of the people in her program. Another always worked in the past, but this semester he has student teaching, which takes him and his classmates out of that game.
Another of my friends has a University-funded job where he gets paid to do things like crowd-control at sporting events. His boss sends him an email that tells him where he has to be, and when it begins and ends. A big advantage of these types of University jobs is that your bosses know you have classes and homework and are respectful of that. So when exams are coming up, these kinds of activities wind down a lot, so he doesn’t get many hours during those times. Also, he can tell his boss when he has tests and other important things, and then he gets less of the hours, and someone else gets more. Other University jobs have science students cleaning up labs and equipment, and, for more senior students, acting as Residence Advisors dealing with unruly students, conflicts between roommates, and things like that. I think these types of jobs are paid for by the government because not everyone can apply for them; the program appears to be restricted to students whose families can’t help them much.
A problem with this kind of work, though, is that there are other people who work hard for the University at things that take up a lot more time and involve a lot more responsibility and stress, and they don’t get paid at all. My ex-girlfriend works on a charity-type of program that gives the University great publicity; she started this program a couple of years ago and has been in charge of it ever since. But because it’s new, she spends a lot of time applying for grants to fund it as it runs with an absolute minimum of funding. So she works at this every evening for hours and doesn’t get paid at all. People like her can get short of money too, and she used to resent the fact that I was paid to work at one of these University jobs which involved little effort and commitment while she was working so hard for nothing. Well nothing monetary that is. During one heated argument, I told her to quit doing it if it was making her so angry. But she said she didn’t want to quit something she created that made her happy and involved things that she hoped to do in her future career. Apart from its looking extremely impressive on a resume, and producing multiple letters of commendation from impressive people, she has given herself a very thorough practical education in HR and in Management.
Then there are the people who have jobs downtown, in the malls or at fast food restaurants and those kinds of places. Some are hazardous in various ways. I know two who work in fast food on weekend shifts that end after 2 am. If one girl didn’t have a black belt in Karate, walking home after work wouldn’t be particularly safe. Another friend has a different kind of problem; she works at a high-fashion clothes store. Her original intent was that this job would mean she could depend somewhat less on her parents in order to reduce the flow of extremely annoying inquiries from her mom about what she’d been doing and what had happened to the last batch of money. It didn’t work out according to plan though because she gets a big discount on all the clothes she buys at work; she can’t resist it, and usually ends up spending more than she has made. Another guy has trapped himself into having to work to make the payments on his car, and insurance, and parking. He needs his car to get to work, but doesn’t have the time or the money to use the car for much else. How stupid is that?
Quite a few people have to start working part way through University because of changes in their family situations. My roommate's younger brother began University this year, so his parents can’t afford to help him as much as they did last year. I’ve seen the same thing happen because of parents losing their jobs or separating. One person even had to quit school at the end of last year because he was the only person in his family who could find work; he had no idea that anything like this could crop up and disrupt his entire life. But he felt he had to do it.
Then there are the rich kids: the ones who wear different new clothes every day, breeze around in a new sports car every year, and who boast about all the places they’ve been in the summer, while everyone else had to work two jobs to try to reduce their eventual debt from ridiculous to just stupid. It can be hard to avoid doing physical harm to some of these people – especially with the arrogant attitudes some of them seem to have.
Another of my friends has a University-funded job where he gets paid to do things like crowd-control at sporting events. His boss sends him an email that tells him where he has to be, and when it begins and ends. A big advantage of these types of University jobs is that your bosses know you have classes and homework and are respectful of that. So when exams are coming up, these kinds of activities wind down a lot, so he doesn’t get many hours during those times. Also, he can tell his boss when he has tests and other important things, and then he gets less of the hours, and someone else gets more. Other University jobs have science students cleaning up labs and equipment, and, for more senior students, acting as Residence Advisors dealing with unruly students, conflicts between roommates, and things like that. I think these types of jobs are paid for by the government because not everyone can apply for them; the program appears to be restricted to students whose families can’t help them much.
A problem with this kind of work, though, is that there are other people who work hard for the University at things that take up a lot more time and involve a lot more responsibility and stress, and they don’t get paid at all. My ex-girlfriend works on a charity-type of program that gives the University great publicity; she started this program a couple of years ago and has been in charge of it ever since. But because it’s new, she spends a lot of time applying for grants to fund it as it runs with an absolute minimum of funding. So she works at this every evening for hours and doesn’t get paid at all. People like her can get short of money too, and she used to resent the fact that I was paid to work at one of these University jobs which involved little effort and commitment while she was working so hard for nothing. Well nothing monetary that is. During one heated argument, I told her to quit doing it if it was making her so angry. But she said she didn’t want to quit something she created that made her happy and involved things that she hoped to do in her future career. Apart from its looking extremely impressive on a resume, and producing multiple letters of commendation from impressive people, she has given herself a very thorough practical education in HR and in Management.
Then there are the people who have jobs downtown, in the malls or at fast food restaurants and those kinds of places. Some are hazardous in various ways. I know two who work in fast food on weekend shifts that end after 2 am. If one girl didn’t have a black belt in Karate, walking home after work wouldn’t be particularly safe. Another friend has a different kind of problem; she works at a high-fashion clothes store. Her original intent was that this job would mean she could depend somewhat less on her parents in order to reduce the flow of extremely annoying inquiries from her mom about what she’d been doing and what had happened to the last batch of money. It didn’t work out according to plan though because she gets a big discount on all the clothes she buys at work; she can’t resist it, and usually ends up spending more than she has made. Another guy has trapped himself into having to work to make the payments on his car, and insurance, and parking. He needs his car to get to work, but doesn’t have the time or the money to use the car for much else. How stupid is that?
Quite a few people have to start working part way through University because of changes in their family situations. My roommate's younger brother began University this year, so his parents can’t afford to help him as much as they did last year. I’ve seen the same thing happen because of parents losing their jobs or separating. One person even had to quit school at the end of last year because he was the only person in his family who could find work; he had no idea that anything like this could crop up and disrupt his entire life. But he felt he had to do it.
Then there are the rich kids: the ones who wear different new clothes every day, breeze around in a new sports car every year, and who boast about all the places they’ve been in the summer, while everyone else had to work two jobs to try to reduce their eventual debt from ridiculous to just stupid. It can be hard to avoid doing physical harm to some of these people – especially with the arrogant attitudes some of them seem to have.
Sex in University
One thing about our dorm would surprise people who are just coming in now in the middle of the year (parents are not to read this section because they may be shocked): Sex happens all the time, all over. I have witnessed so many sexual activities I'm not a part of because I walk in on them in the dorm rooms, or in the washroom, or in the laundry. Most of the time, people are drunk, but not always. It can be very awkward.
My first term here, I was continuing a long distance relationship with someone I knew from High School, so whenever we got together here, I had to arrange it with my roommate: well this person is going to be staying in the room here, and of course you can stay with us because it's your room as well but ... . It was all about organizing things in advance, which might sometimes be awkward if you have the wrong roommate. But you are thrown into this open environment, so you kind of become immune to it.
In High School, if someone heard you had sex with someone, you would think the world was ending. If one person knew, then everyone knew. Then your mom knew. In a small town when everyone knew, then you would be a bad person. So everyone was thinking of that, and not as much happened. But here it becomes like breathing, especially in the dorms. You can hear when someone above you or below you is doing something. Or in the room next to yours; I am good friends with my neighbors so we would just laugh at each other and pound the floor or the wall or the ceiling.
Another thing that happens here is that you meet someone at a party that you didn’t know, have sex with them, but then the next week you realize they are in your class. It happens because our classes are so big. So you pretend you don't know it was them. Or that your phone is ringing or you are getting a really important text. You know you had sex with that person; you just go with it and it never gets talked about. No-one knows. It's beautiful.
My first term here, I was continuing a long distance relationship with someone I knew from High School, so whenever we got together here, I had to arrange it with my roommate: well this person is going to be staying in the room here, and of course you can stay with us because it's your room as well but ... . It was all about organizing things in advance, which might sometimes be awkward if you have the wrong roommate. But you are thrown into this open environment, so you kind of become immune to it.
In High School, if someone heard you had sex with someone, you would think the world was ending. If one person knew, then everyone knew. Then your mom knew. In a small town when everyone knew, then you would be a bad person. So everyone was thinking of that, and not as much happened. But here it becomes like breathing, especially in the dorms. You can hear when someone above you or below you is doing something. Or in the room next to yours; I am good friends with my neighbors so we would just laugh at each other and pound the floor or the wall or the ceiling.
Another thing that happens here is that you meet someone at a party that you didn’t know, have sex with them, but then the next week you realize they are in your class. It happens because our classes are so big. So you pretend you don't know it was them. Or that your phone is ringing or you are getting a really important text. You know you had sex with that person; you just go with it and it never gets talked about. No-one knows. It's beautiful.
The Inevitable Weeding Out
My major is science and I feel that to succeed, you have to have the drive to stick with it right from the beginning. If you don’t, you will fail.
I saw a lot of kids in my first year who majored in science because they took bio in high school because it can lead to careers in the healthcare industry, and in high school it was easy. Easy at least compared with Math and Physics and Chemistry. So they thought it would be easy here as well.
Here's some news for people like that. First Year Biology is not easy!
For one thing, the University accepts about twice as many people in First Year as they have room for in the years that follow. The First Year course is designed to determine which 300 of 600 students are going to be the ones who get to go on, and to get students used to Biology as it is here; it needs you to know all the material, and then to be able to take the pieces apart and put them together in different ways. Apart from 20% labs, the marks are all for multiple-choice tests and exams. Intro Psych is the same; they know people will find it interesting and fun (which it is), so they have to make the tests hard to get rid of people who can't or won't do the work.
The challenge is learning how to take these tests and how to make sure you are studying the right things. You could either learn that the hard way, which I did, through trial and error. That method results in many bad marks, but by the end, you do know how to handle the various types of questions that appear. First thing: almost none of the questions are just memory questions. Some need you to know the work, and then to be able to figure something new out from it. Some need you to take something you did in September, and to put it together with something from a different unit you did in November. To get yourself up to speed for these kinds of questions, you need to know September's work by the time November comes; people who leave all their learning and review to the last minute aren't giving themselves practice for the kind of thinking the questions need, so unless they're geniuses they can't do them. As I said before, I learned all this using the trial-and-error method, which is extremely uncomfortable at times, like when you get a test back with a terrible mark.
Or you can use the services of the TAs who have been through the courses and can tell you how the profs write the questions, and any kinds of trick questions that they use. I didn't go to the TAs because I didn't bother to find out who they were and what they were there for; In truth, I was intimidated by the thought of going to a TA. And the prof: well, there are hundreds of people in the class. That's why the TAs are there to do that job. And of course, the same thing applies as for anything else in University: if you use TAs at the beginning, you get more benefit from them, and save yourself a lot of grief.
I found the different teaching styles of profs challenging. Sometimes I would have a prof who would base the entire exam on his lectures; other profs would test completely from the text. And sometimes I would have a prof who told us he was going to test from the lectures but used the text instead. That was frustrating.
I found many profs to be helpful; if they knew a student wasn't good at multiple choice, like me, they would let them take an essay exam instead because they wanted to help you get a good grade. But I hated the ones who tried to trip you up to keep you on your toes. They were usually the ones who expected you to be in class each day, to understand every word they said, and who felt obliged to test you on every single word that they said.
People complain about it, but this kind of course is specifically designed to be difficult. I graduated fourth in my high school class but from a small high school without the kinds of programs offered at other high schools devoted to academic achievement for kids. So it was really hard for me. But I wasn’t worried about getting weeded out because I knew it was what I wanted to do, and that I would do whatever it needed me to.
But the kids who come in with an undecided major don’t do well and I think they would have been better off taking a year off to decide. If you want to be a science major, you have to start first semester freshman year with these difficult classes and you will have to take them every year until you graduate. There’s no avoiding them. Why put yourself through that if it’s not what you want?
I saw a lot of kids in my first year who majored in science because they took bio in high school because it can lead to careers in the healthcare industry, and in high school it was easy. Easy at least compared with Math and Physics and Chemistry. So they thought it would be easy here as well.
Here's some news for people like that. First Year Biology is not easy!
For one thing, the University accepts about twice as many people in First Year as they have room for in the years that follow. The First Year course is designed to determine which 300 of 600 students are going to be the ones who get to go on, and to get students used to Biology as it is here; it needs you to know all the material, and then to be able to take the pieces apart and put them together in different ways. Apart from 20% labs, the marks are all for multiple-choice tests and exams. Intro Psych is the same; they know people will find it interesting and fun (which it is), so they have to make the tests hard to get rid of people who can't or won't do the work.
The challenge is learning how to take these tests and how to make sure you are studying the right things. You could either learn that the hard way, which I did, through trial and error. That method results in many bad marks, but by the end, you do know how to handle the various types of questions that appear. First thing: almost none of the questions are just memory questions. Some need you to know the work, and then to be able to figure something new out from it. Some need you to take something you did in September, and to put it together with something from a different unit you did in November. To get yourself up to speed for these kinds of questions, you need to know September's work by the time November comes; people who leave all their learning and review to the last minute aren't giving themselves practice for the kind of thinking the questions need, so unless they're geniuses they can't do them. As I said before, I learned all this using the trial-and-error method, which is extremely uncomfortable at times, like when you get a test back with a terrible mark.
Or you can use the services of the TAs who have been through the courses and can tell you how the profs write the questions, and any kinds of trick questions that they use. I didn't go to the TAs because I didn't bother to find out who they were and what they were there for; In truth, I was intimidated by the thought of going to a TA. And the prof: well, there are hundreds of people in the class. That's why the TAs are there to do that job. And of course, the same thing applies as for anything else in University: if you use TAs at the beginning, you get more benefit from them, and save yourself a lot of grief.
I found the different teaching styles of profs challenging. Sometimes I would have a prof who would base the entire exam on his lectures; other profs would test completely from the text. And sometimes I would have a prof who told us he was going to test from the lectures but used the text instead. That was frustrating.
I found many profs to be helpful; if they knew a student wasn't good at multiple choice, like me, they would let them take an essay exam instead because they wanted to help you get a good grade. But I hated the ones who tried to trip you up to keep you on your toes. They were usually the ones who expected you to be in class each day, to understand every word they said, and who felt obliged to test you on every single word that they said.
People complain about it, but this kind of course is specifically designed to be difficult. I graduated fourth in my high school class but from a small high school without the kinds of programs offered at other high schools devoted to academic achievement for kids. So it was really hard for me. But I wasn’t worried about getting weeded out because I knew it was what I wanted to do, and that I would do whatever it needed me to.
But the kids who come in with an undecided major don’t do well and I think they would have been better off taking a year off to decide. If you want to be a science major, you have to start first semester freshman year with these difficult classes and you will have to take them every year until you graduate. There’s no avoiding them. Why put yourself through that if it’s not what you want?
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