Category: School


Juxtaposition Two, Electric Boogaloo

Today, I will tell you two stories. One of these stories affirms my rapidly dwindling faith in humanity and one that rebuts it.

Story the first:
Today in my Marriage and the Family class (I am getting a minor in Psychology), we were talking about the roles of gender in the family. The questions were raised, as they always are, about what makes a person a man or a woman, apart from the obvious anatomical disparities. People began rattling off answers about how men are providers, stoic, leaders, etc. I’m sure you can name the stereotypes. For the women, answers such as home maker, mother, and the rest of those commonplaces were thrown around.

I sat quietly, listening. When the answers slowed down, I raised my hand to chip in my thoughts on gender (which you might remember). Basically, I think gender is overemphasized, and that in today’s increasingly androgynous world, gender lines are getting blurred, and I don’t see the big reason to worry about it. I pointed out that I am not particularly stereotypically masculine in a lot of ways, which has come up in previous discussions in the class.

Today, though, I guess the topic came up one too many times, and from behind me, I heard one of the guys say , “Fag.” Much muted sniggering followed. Typically, I’m not too phased by this sort of thing. I’m quite comfortable in both my masculinity and in my heterosexuality, so I don’t really have anything to hide, but being that I go to a Christian University, and given that this is an upper division course, I figured my thoughts and ideas would be met with a bit more decorum and respect. I would be lying if I told you that it didn’t sting a little.

Story the second:
Being that I go to a Christian school, we have mandatory chapels. Sometimes, these chapels are just onerous, but every now and then, we get a good speaker who really catches our attention. The speaker today was of the latter sort, and I was delighted when I heard he was speaking. He told us a modernized version of the Woman at the Well story. In the end, the woman in the modernized vesion was asked what she would want if she had three wishes. It ultimately came out that she wasn’t so much interested in money or being away from where she was so much as she was wanting forgiveness, a way to start over, and someone to love her.

The speaker concluded by challenging us to ask someone who looked down or alone what they’d want if they had three wishes, in an attempt to try to help them out a little bit. Later that day, as I was sitting on a bench outside, letting the sun wash over me, someone I had never seen before walks up to me, and with a half-smirk asks me what I’d want if I had three wishes. Apparently, I looked depressed.

I looked the person in the eye and said, “That’s not really a hard question for me. I’d like someone I love very much not to be sick. I’d like for the world to stop spiraling into war. And lastly, I’d like for every family who has lost someone in the war to get an answer for why they had to sacrifice a loved one.”

The person stammered for a minute, before I assured him (or her) that it was ok if no answer was coming. No one else seemed to have one. The person said thanks and walked off. A few minutes later, the person came back and sat down next to me. Apparently, this person had lost an uncle in Afghanistan a while back. I had no idea who I was talking to, but I just listened. I just sat there and absorbed every piece of information offered about her uncle, his unit, when he was supposed to come home. After a few minutes, the person looked up at me and said, “Thanks. I needed to get all of that out,” and left.

I don’t know who it was, and I don’t know if I will ever see him (or her) ever again, but that was a day that got better not because I was doing anything, but because I looked like I was in need of some cheering up.

Life’s funny that way. Sometimes you set out to help someone out, but you end up getting the help you need instead. Maybe we aren’t so screwed up after all.

I’ve got an idea that I’ll post about in a few days, after I let it roll around in my head, letting the gaps fill themselves in Katamari style. In the mean time, what are your stories of human kindness or of human cruelty that you’ve seen or experienced? Either post them in the comments, or leave a comment with a link to your own entry, and I’ll put them all together in a nice list and post it in a few days, after you’ve had some time to write your own stories.

Looking Backwards and Looking Forwards

Ho-kay. I know I don’t have a whole bunch of readers, but the complete lack of comments on the last entry tells me 1)I really am as bad at poetry as I thought I was or 2)Poetry isn’t you guys’ shtick, so I think I’ll refrain from any poetry posting here. Maybe some day I’ll make a separate blog for that.

In other news, I’ve been working on my application to attend Oxford for the Spring semester of 2009. To be completely frank, the very idea creates in me a giddy anticipation of the adventures (quests?) the trip will hold for me. At the very same time, that idea creates in me a nearly debilitating fear and trepidation that I’m nearly unable to work on the application process at all.

The last time I was considering doing this was just last year. I was thinking about going to Oxford this past fall semester, and following that trip up with a semester in Russia during this semester. I wussed out. As it turned out, though, what with all the crazy stuff that went on with my head, it’s probably a good thing that I didn’t end up going then.

As far as what I’ll do if I get in, I already know because I had to pick classes and things as part of the application process. For those of you who don’t already know, the British do things a bit differently in their university system than we do here in the states. I had to pick a seminar track, and a primary and secondary tutorial. The seminars are like typical lectures, given by a number of different faculty members at Wycliffe Hall. The tutorials are just that: one-on-one meetings with faculty to discuss readings, go over papers, etc. The style is largely self-motivated, because you only meet with your tutor once a week, and you have to make sure to get your assignments done in the meantime.

Looking at all the many different tutorials they offer, I decided on these, under the English Language and Literature seminar track. Primary Tutorial: Linguistic Theory; Secondary Tutorial: Old Norse Literature (which will be entirely in Old Norse, which they’ll teach us how to read); Alternate Primary (in case I can’t get into it): The History and Use of the English Language; Alternate Secondary: Old English Literature (Again, it’ll be in Old English, which they’ll teach us).

Those may or may not sound at all interesting to you all in the vast internets, but I can’t wait. ‘Course I’ve got to get myself accepted first. Wish me luck, and please forgive me if my next post is some ramblings as I try to straighten out my application essay.

Sex, Sushi, and Salvation

For my school newspaper, I recently read Christian George’s new book Sex, Sushi, and Salvation: thoughts on intimacy, community, and eternity (Here on Amazon) so I could write a review on it. Here’s that review for you all who aren’t attached to LeTourneauland to read the paper.

The title, weighing in at a substantial ten words, really gives a fairly concise explanation of what the book addresses. The book takes the reader on a journey through the memories of its author, Christian George, as he begins putting together the pieces of his life, and weaving a tapestry of faith-centered messages.

George has led a life of travel, having been on many a pilgrimage to pertinent places in the Bible and in the history of the Christian faith. He has also traversed the globe on several mission trips. These experiences, along with some personal medical issues, marriage, and long talks with good friends, have given George some insights that the less world-savvy individual might not be able to grasp. That is, at least, the attitude which seems to run the course of the entire book.

George shares his thoughts on why people feel a need to be connected, ways in which people seek out that connection, and things in his life that have made him feel both connected and completely isolated. His stories are straight from the pages of his past, and each one ultimately reveals a spiritual truth, or a piece of the nature of God. From the mundane lunch-room jitters of talking to a girl for the first time, to the extraordinary grief of emergency room visits, everything, it seems, has a deep spiritual purpose, but he expounds on the story itself more than on its meaning of application.

That was a major theme running through the book: exposition of the circumstances and events with little depth into the spiritual truth he’s trying to outline in that specific chapter. At times, George tries so hard to stretch his situations to fit their theme, I found myself getting lost in the narrative. The narratives, also, seemed at times strained, and the language forced in an attempt to try to sensationalize a feeling or event.

Overall, the book begins to say some great things about Christianity, relationships, personal hardships, missions, community, faith, travel, and the list goes on. The list continues, but the outline is only of the second order, without much meat for each topic. While there were chapters on each of the three aspects of the title, the chapters were each self-contained units, and there wasn’t a sense of cohesiveness through them in regard to the expectations derived from the title: intimacy, community, and eternity.

Sex, Sushi, and Salvation is George’s third book. I expect he will continue writing and publishing, and while I think this book leaves some depth to be desired, George is certainly on the track to becoming a top-notch Christian Life writer. I give this book 2.5 out of 5 stars.

Conference

This past Saturday, my literary criticism hosted a conference on campus in order to showcase our critical term papers. Most of the planning took place largely just about a week and a half before, because, well, our professor didn’t really give us any details until then.

In any event, I ended up designing the brochure, making sure we had the facilities all lined up, writing a paper, making sure that all the submissions were in, taking care of late submissions, adding sessions, rearranging sessions, emailing everyone with the program, emailing everyone with the new program when we had more submissions the Thursday before the conference, and well, whatever else didn’t get done.

Don’t get me wrong, the other people in the class ended up with their fair share, but it just seemed like my parts of the work ended up SNAFU.

Anyways, by Friday, the programs were printed, the sessions were set, and all I had to do was finish writing the paper. I was up a good part of that night, but that even got done in time.

When I showed up Saturday morning, everything just fell into place. We had between 80 and 90 people there, including presenters, plenty of food on the snack table, some wonderful presentations, and an all around good time.

It’s funny how crazy things can get before the end, and they end up falling into place anyways. Good times, good times.

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