Field Trips

As a child I loved the days that we spent out of the classroom. It seems odd thinking about it as I never minded the days we spent inside the classroom, but that is how I remember it. Not many field trips stand out in my memory except the one that I begged and begged my mother to accompany my class on and she did. (This was a big deal as my mother was a teacher at the same school and so could not normally come...a disappointment I got used to early on.) This was the biggest field trip ever...it was our first overnight trip on fourth grade in gold country. All in all this trip was a disaster. In the long car ride up, I had two of my friends, and one girl who had emotional problems and no one got along with. We all worked really hard in finishing up the scavenger hunt along the way only for it to be ripped up by the problem girl. I was devastated. After that, my friends and I did not have a great time. I liked going to the town set up as it was in the olden days, and I liked panning for gold, even though at that age I knew they had planted the gold for us to find. But none of that made me like the trip any better. The car ride ruined it. I had set out expecting to have a wonderful time...after all my mom was coming and it was an overnight. As it turned out I was not good at being with my mom and my friends at the same time and so that caused problems. I also realized why the problem girl was in my car even though I hadn't asked for her...for one she needed a car and no one wanted her, but the real reason was that my mom taught at the sam school and my teacher trusted my mom to be responsible for the girl. Yep...it was all her fault.

Field trips having stopped in high school, except for the occasional AP trip after the tests, I was surprised to find them back in style in college. I have had about two field trips a year...most to museums because of my major. Most of the time, these trips are great. They allow me realize hoe much I have actually learned in the class, being able to go off by myself and understand what it is I am looking at. But I realized this weekend, that not everyone in the class has this feeling of success on a trip, and this time that took away from my enjoyment. I have been to the museum we went to before for another class, so I am familiar with it and its contents. Being the person I am, when I overheard a girl saying she felt lost and had no idea how any of this related to our class I took it upon myself to help her. While I am glad I did, I didn't get as much out of the trip as I usually do, but I had the same feeling. I have never, not even once, thought about being a teacher. It is in reaction to my mother being one, and I can say with almost complete certainty I never will teach. I don't like large groups of children and I just don't really see the worth or enjoyment in the profession. Up until yesterday, I never understood the feeling that was the reason my mother does what does even though the pay is horrible and the reward is often not in proportion to all the work you put in. I think I understand it now, the great feeling you get when you help someone learn about something you love. All I can say is thank god that other people are willing to do this job, we would be no where without them.

When all else fails...study

As I have already mentioned, the time to choose classes for next semester has come, and in thinking about this I have been thinking about my major. I am an Art History major which really has no place in the real world (I'm sorry but my alternative, English, did not either). I have always wanted to write, which hey I'm doing that right now. But no really, my goal is to someday finish a novel I started (slash have an opening paragraph to) on my grandfather and his life. It may seem a boring topic, but only until you actually look at my grandfather's belief systems and the role they played in his life. But that is not where I'm going here. My point is, that I don't feel as though one can be taught how to write and so I veered away from the obvious choice of English for a major and turned towards Art History.

Art History is an interesting subject. While it is all historical, it does not fall under a social science class, but a humanities class. It takes no artistic talent, yet you get to spend your time admiring gorgeous works of art. It's like wandering around a museum all day (and for me that's time well spent). This all leads to something my professor once said about the discipline: Art History is for artists who have no talent for art. For some reason that has stuck with me. In his case, his father was a fairly well known artist and trained him in drawing and painting. When he was far enough along, his father realized he had no talent...or at least not enough...and so started him in the direction of studying works of art. I'm not sure why some people are drawn to the discipline, whether they have any talent in the arts or not, but I found I feel my path was somewhat like my professor's. As a child I loved to draw and paint, and was told I was fairly good...until at about 14, my talent no longer improved and my art kept coming out looking like a child had drawn this. At that point I was one of those dejected art students who defends themselves with the argument that they could paint just as well as Jackson Pollock and so he had no talent either. Needless to say, I am no longer of the feeling, but it did lead me to Art History. If I couldn't use my inspiration for creating art, I might as well spend my time studying the results of genius' inspirations. I now know that Pollock had vision and insight, he did not just splatter paint, he had a theory behind his practice and was the first to think of art in that way; as was Duchamp (a urinal can be art...you just have to explain why and do it first to be recognized). And of course, you have to have the talent to see everything as a possible work of art.

Testosterone

After a long and emotionally straining week, I have come to the conclusion that this school could use some more testosterone. It's not that I don't like being at an all women's college, I like it well enough. Most of the time I don't really notice the difference. I have always had girls for friends and, while I'm used to having at least one guy friend around, it hasn't really bothered me not having them on campus. Until yesterday. I'm tired of having all girl friends. They make everything so complicated and about emotions. I'm not like that. I hate sharing my feelings (as you have probably noticed the lack of them on this blog). If something happens I simply say "Get over it and move on." I don't like talking about things and dissecting every word and innuendo like most girls do. I'm just not that type. I like things clean, quick, and to the point. I haven't really found anyone like that here...or really anywhere for that matter; except for guys. I'm not sure why, but most guys are more detached than girls. While this seems to be the main reason for frustration among girls while dating, I find it refreshing and wonderful. Especially in friendships. I need someone to rant to, someone who agrees that girls are too emotional and won't be offended thinking I'm talking about them. I want someone detached, who doesn't really pay attention to what's going on so that, if it makes me feel better, I can hyperbolize to. I really just need someone who doesn't care about emotions or feelings...I need a testosterone filled man. But where have they all gone? They definitely aren't on this campus.

It's time already

Every year I am caught off guard when the time comes to choose rooms and classes for the next year. That time has come again. At BM we have room draw, a process both hated and loved. I am on the hating side this year as my room draw number is 264 and I want to live in the three most popular dorms. So what to do? Last year I saved a friend from an equally horrible number by doing a hall group...its her turn this year. The problem comes when deciding the actual room. We have floor plans for all of the dorms, yet the rooms never look like they do in the floor plan...it's a nice concept, but in actuality is not really helpful.

As a freshman, I had a nice room, a good size and in a good dorm. My sophomore year I was in a double with a friend that, once we got our stuff in, seemed a lot smaller than when we chose it, but we came to work well with our restraints. This year my room has no real positive side. It is cozy, to say the least, on the third floor, and has no storage room. I somehow managed to decorate it to my liking and now it is home, but I cannot say that I will miss it when I have hauled all of my belongings down the three flights of stairs. But that is life I suppose; you win some and loose some. I have decided this is my year to win some...if all works out.

While everyone on campus is checking out and coveting the few amazing rooms on campus, the task of enrolling for classes for the fall semester comes upon us. Let me just say, this is the one downfall of a small school. I love BM and am generally happy with my classes once I am settled in, but the choosing and the arranging is horrid. First of all, I have found, as a rising senior that I have taken a variation of each and every class offered in my major department. There is no variety. I find myself saying this every year, but I think this time it is actually true. So finding classes that are new and interesting is a chore. Then, once I've found classes I would semi-like to take, they are all at the same time. It always happens. Departments have all their classes on the same days, either Mon. and Wed. or Tues. and Thurs. And, not only are they on the same day, there are only about three or four time slots. I am an Art History major. The lower level classes are in the morning (9 being the earliest, but let me just say I am NOT a morning person and so I have a terrible time waking up for these classes). If the class is not in the morning, it is later in the afternoon (obviously). These times work for me, and as it turns out they are mostly once a week, but that means the class is longer and then does not fit nicely into the time slots left by the two times a week classes. I hate choosing classes.

This year I find myself in an interesting place. I have only three classes before my major is done, and one for my minor...leaving me with four classes to play around with. As I was originally a double major, I have never had time to explore other disciplines as one is meant to do at a liberal arts college. To say the least, I am very excited to start exploring before the end of my free days are done and I move on to law school when there is not an abundance of choice in subject matter. By the time I get all of this figured out we come upon finals. Can I just say summer has never been so attractive as it is right now, sitting in the rain looking over my scheduling conflicts.

Spring has sprung

As today is the first day of spring, I thought this topic appropriate. It is something that struck me the very first time I came to campus and I still find it a little funny (although I must say I now understand the desire). What am I talking about? The mass of students that on the first sunny day after winter don their bathing suits and sun bathe. It happens every year. From the first day the sun is shinning and it is above 55 degrees, girls flock to the greens to get some sun. I now, after a very long and snowy winter, understand the desire to soak up the sun and relish in the delight of it, but at 60 degrees? I still need a sweater at 60 degrees...especially if there is a breeze. It is not warm enough to wear just a bikini. I mean 60 degrees is winter weather for CA (granted a nice winter day, but winter all the same). How can they stand it? I would be shivering. In fact I was, sitting in the sun wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. I see nothing wrong in soaking the sun up, and possibly breaking out the long missed flip-flops, but do so in moderation. I expect to see bathing suits in 90 degree weather, not barely 60 degrees.

Now, I understand that I come from one of the nicest places to live weather wise, CA, and that I am spoiled. But does this race to the sun happen at all colleges? Could it possibly be a BM thing, or an all women's thing? Or do college students everywhere (except good old CA) sun bathe in 60 degree weather? I will never truly be from the east coast.

A place to call home

On my 27 hour way back to school from spring break, I had a lot of time to think about where home is. Was I leaving home or going home? I still can't answer that. My home home, is the same house I grew up in and has been ours for 30 years. It really is my home. Or at least it was until school. I noticed that getting back to my dorm I feel the same relaxed feeling as when I go to my house. It is my bed in the room, all my stuff is there, and it is my natural habitat. But what does that make my house?

As I pondered this, I discussed this with some friends at school. They suggested that maybe since I haven't been at my house for longer than a month at a time since I started school that was the problem and the reason for the shift; though they too felt the shift of their 'home' base and had spent their whole summers at home...so maybe that's not the reason.

Whatever the reason is, it seems to bother me more than others at school. They have gotten used to bm being home and feel like they are coming home at the end of each summer. For some reason this does not settle with me. My HOME is back in CA with my family...at least deep down I feel it should be. I suppose what makes the difference to me is the level of comfort I have in a certain place. I am never more conformable than at my house, but as I visit home on breaks, I am simply a visitor. I come with only a suitcase of clothing and belongings, and put them away in empty drawers and cabinets. I never have everything with me at one place. My room with all my personal belongings, is at my house, but my dorm room has all my important belongings and is my home for day to day life for most of the year. Yet I hesitate to call it my home. I am not from bm, or the surrounding area, so that is foreign, but campus is not.

At some point I like to think that my home is where my family is...after all isn't home where the heart is? But that I find is not right. It is true, my dogs are at home, in my house, but my family can come visit me at school and it does not make it anymore like home than before.

Obviously, from discussion with friends, I am having the most trouble with this...finding a stable place to call home. Maybe it is because my home is my comfort zone, and plays an important part in my life. Can you really have more than one home? (I don't mean a place where your belonging are or an address, but a place that encompasses everything a home FEELS like.)

Not Enough

One thing that I really liked about BM when I first got here was the amount of clubs on campus. The first week of freshman year all of the clubs on campus put on a fair, showing new students what they have to offer. I remember being so overwhelmed with the choices (knitting, crew, greens, democrats, fencing, etc). The options seem limitless coming from a high school which maybe had 5 active clubs on campus. I remember signing up for many and attending some of their first meetings.

The sad thing about reality on a college campus is that most of your free time is not spent in clubs or at the gym, but in the library or your room studying. I should have known, right? After the first weeks of trying to be in three clubs, I had to choose between them. A young, naive freshman, I chose the one which my friends were becoming members of. As a result, I chose a club that, at first, wasn't about something I thought I really cared about. It was interesting, and meaningful, but not something I had previously been interested, and certainly not something I was passionate about.

After the first month or so, my friends stopped going to the meetings with me, but I felt obliged to go. After all, I had been given an appointed position and had a duty to fulfill. As the year went on, I became friends with the older members of the club, and even became interested in what we stood for. The next year I was asked to run for the exec board and I won. I was the new treasurer.

Little did I know that most people, like the few friends I had originally gone to meetings with, become too busy during the semester to be a part of clubs. This is my third year as a member of my club, I am now secretary, and it has become excruciatingly painful. I found something that I was interested in and thought worthwhile and was ready to jump in and start doing some good. But it's not that easy. A club cannot be run by only its exec board, it needs members who are interested and dedicated and actually can come to meetings.

I found out that, as neat as it is for such a small school to have so many diverse clubs, it means that there just aren't enough students to go around. There are few people, in every club that stay committed and come to the meetings and events, but as a whole, the student body is just too small for the amount of clubs and interests on campus. I wish there were something I could do to give people more time and interest, because we really do have amazing things going on around campus...it's just that we are too busy to take full advantage of them.