Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Here's a look into my semester in Honors Lit and Civ II: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BCVe78Woo5w


A look into my final presentation justification: 
          Signing up for a class you know nothing about can be a daunting task, especially when it’s an honors course. Diving into a unique learning experience can offer many unexpected learning opportunities, even some which immerse you in the cultures of other countries. Through a variety of text, YouTube videos, and out of class experiences, I became more knowledgeable over the course of the semester. With such a variety of topics covered, all branching off of humor, there was no way to just pick one thing that was impactful during the semester....

General Thoughts
        The world is full of surprises. Sometimes the surprises are at the hands of others, but sometimes you can surprise yourself. I learned so much about who I am as a person and what is important to me from taking this course. Who knew that reading a short story about a failed vacation and a murder could be so sentimental? Going off to college 800 miles away from home, I thought I would create my own, adult world, a world where I didn't need my mom to do anything for me. Boy, was I wrong. I didn't realize it until we read A River Runs Through It, but I can't imagine a world where I didn't text my mom about something dumb I did or call my sister asking for homework help. Accepting help from others is an amazing thing; I've been living in A River Runs Through It and never noticed it. I feel blessed that I was able to take one of the last spots in the class because if I hadn't, who knows where I would be (probably studying Astronomy or something).

 

It was the Best of Times; it was the Worst of Times

        Do you ever have something happen and you can't help but think, "why me? Why now? C'mon, man. Really?" Because I do. The days where you wake up late, forget your laptop charger, and realize half way through the day that you had an assignment due at noon and oh look! It's already 1:30. Those days are the worst. They make Netflix nights seem like the best thing since sliced bread. It's like in the movies when a character says, "It's not like it's gonna get any worse," immediately followed by a torrential down pour of rain, a splashed puddle of mud by the road, or pretty much anything rain related. When I think of this, I automatically think of Ice Age, in the scene when it just starts hailing like crazy. Nonetheless, even Hollywood recognizes those days that make you wish for a do-over button.
        Sadly, there is no do-over button for life, also known as a time machine. But. I have learned that sometimes the best things happen when you need them most. Not to mention, those awful days make the good days seem umpteen times better. I learned this the other day, after writing three papers, working three 12am-3am shifts in a row, and getting into a fight with my roommate over pizza (Yes, pizza. The pizza really just was the straw that broke the camel's back). I was so upset about how poorly the day was going, especially since I had not received a letter from my friend in boot camp for weeks. Every day, I would go to the post office, and just stare at my little P.O. Box. I would get anxious walking up to it, as crazy as it sounds. For being such a small little cube, it held so much power. It could make a great day awful, but it could completely turn around one of those Hollywood-worthy bad days.
      Anyway, on that particular bad day, I followed my normal routine and went to the post office, expecting to see emptiness. To my surprise, there sat a tiny letter with "Semper Fi" on it in gold letters. Let me tell you--everything that made that day awful disappeared. I was ecstatic that I finally got a letter. I sat down right in the post office and read it, waiting wasn't an option. I was smiling ear to ear, forgetting about the mishaps of the day. It was like the last scene of The Breakfast Club, one fist in the air with not a care in the world.
    Thinking about it later, that letter came right when I needed it. Since my day had been so terrible, it made me appreciate the letter even more. Basically what I'm getting at here, is that things may seem awful (and they might be), but you have to keep on keeping on because a good thing will happen. So now when I'm having a bad day, I look at one of my letters. It really makes me realize that, yeah there's bad in the world, but there's also good. As long as you remember that, the good will come. Those Hollywood bad days will start to feel like low budget bad days (A.K.A the two star movies you can only find on Netflix). So really if you think about it, a lot of the time, it's the best of times and the worst of times all at once. It's all about your mindset.

Reunited and it Feels so Sweet {Frog}

        After a few weeks of not seeing my conversation partner, we were able to find time to meet. We planned on meeting for the IEP community day at the Rec center. By the time I got there after my class ended, the games were already done. My partner stayed positive about it though, and suggested we go to Sweet Frog since it was right by campus. Before we left the Rec, she introduced me to a lot of her friends in the IEP program, including her aunt and one of her cousins. I had not been aware that so many of her family members were in the program with her. She joked and said it was "unfortunate" that they were all in it.
       On our way out, she excitedly showed me the IEP classrooms. She also explained that for their Listening Class, they go to the Bluu. I thought that was a really cool idea; no better place to hear conversations than good ole' Market Square. What was interesting to me, was what happened when I tried to hold the door open for her as we were leaving. She hesitated, looked conflicted, and then walked through the door. Every subsequent time, she made sure she got to the door first so she could hold it. Back home, I'm used to people holding the door open for anyone. Kind of like first come, first serve, except first come, first hold the door. I'm still learning about the Saudi Arabian culture, but I'm going to take an educated guess that back home, she doesn't have people going out of their way to hold doors for her.
     We eventually got to Sweet Frog (her aunt came with). On the way there, we would talk, but occasionally she would speak in Arabic to her aunt. I don't know a word of Arabic, so I felt out of the loop at times. When we went to actually get frozen yogurt, she made sure I got it first. I'm definitely not used to that type of respect. Again, that first come, first serve idea is pretty big back home. We were all sitting and talking, mostly about school and grades. We talked about trying to keep scholarships and how our GPA has a huge impact on that. Then we started talking about food--like we usually do. Apparently there's an Arabian restaurant on West 7th? She was talking about how she was going to go there for dinner and was really excited. Then, out of nowhere, she asked me if I've ever smoked hookah. I don't know about Texas, but in Illinois, you have to be 18 in order to smoke hookah. With my late birthday, I was never really old enough, but I also had no desire to go to a hookah bar. She said that hookah is really popular back home; she even has a hookah in her home back in Saudi Arabia. I didn't know that hookah was so popular there, but she said the hookah is a much higher quality back home.
     Branching off of the hookah topic, we started talking about smoking cigarettes. She said that she just recently started smoking and noted that it is much cheaper back home. She also explained that there really isn't an age you have to be in order to smoke. "No one really cares," she stated. She gave the example that a five year old could go to buy cigarettes, and the person at the store would sell them to him or her. This really surprised me since age requirements are pretty well enforced here. She also said that twelve year olds back home drive and no one cares. Here, you need x number of day time hours, x number of night hours, practice in bad weather, and you basically need to recite the alphabet backwards while pogo-sticking through a hoop, that's on fire.
     My buddy and I set up a lunch-date to go to Pizza Snob next week to celebrate the end of the semester and destress before finals. We both are obsessed with Pizza Snob, so it was a pretty quick and easy decision. I'm a little disappointed I wasn't able to meet with my partner that often this semester, but I'm really appreciative of the times we did meet. I've learned so much from her in just a few meetings!

Back to Preschool

          Being in the honors college, you see a swarm of pre-med, bio, and business majors. I, personally, am none of those. Sure, I could question my place in the Honors College and I could definitely question my career choice, but I honestly can say that a preschooler caused me to have an epiphany about my entire life.
       In order to really dive into this epiphany, some back story might be a tad helpful. Growing up, I was always the quiet girl, and I'd like to think I'm still decently quiet. As I got older, I saw people become more outgoing; they would joke around and not care at all if they looked dumb. During a Chinese Firedrill, where everyone gets out of the car at a red light and changes places, I would stay in the back corner and not move an inch. To be perfectly honest, people usually didn't notice, and I loved that. Flash forward to middle school. You have your awkward school dances, but you have the kids that try their hardest to make it fun. I can't really say I was one of those kids. Basically, my whole life, I've been terrified of looking dumb. My mind was stuck in the eighteenth century when women had to be respectable and austure. It seemed like everyone was moving forward, but I was stuck in the past.
     Since my DeLorean is in the shop, I had to slowly get my mind to the twenty-first century. In my Early Childhood Development class, my teacher embodied everything I wanted to be. She was organized, respectable, intimidating at first but incredibly nice, and on top of it all, was not afraid of looking silly. She taught us a fun trick too; when something happens that you find amazing or interesting you do the "wow" sign. To make this sign, you hold up three fingers on each hand, put one hand on each side of your mouth, and finally, make an "o" with your mouth. Depending on the situation, you can also say "wow," but using the sign alone is acceptable too. For whatever reason, I felt too silly making the "wow" sign, so I woul never do it.
     A few weeks pass, and now the class gets to go to preschools and observe kids. By this, I mean we get to crawl on the floor with toddlers and write journals about it later. What five year old wants to play with someone straight from a Jane Austen book? Exactly. There were two things that really contributed to this epiphany: a little girl that reminded me of myslef and affirmation in my career choice. This little girl, we'll call her Delaney, was quiet and the tiniest in the class. She would often be playing by herself while others played in pairs. I immediately connected with this girl, so of course I was all for playing with her. The other day, she wanted to play with the toy bugs, but the teacher wanted me to work on counting with her. Thinking on my feet and with a little inspiration from Delaney, I came up with a game. Her dragonfly was a real scrooge and was taking all of the gold coins the leprechaun had left behind for us from St. Patrick's Day. Delaney set up an audience of bugs to witness the coin caper. Suggesting that we feed the audience, we found mini-magnets to use as the perfect snack for a plastic bug. At one point, I picked up an audience member and made it nibble on Delaney's arm. She'd shriek with laughter, so going off of her energy, I'd continue, giving the bug a strange voice and a whole life story.
        There I was, that girl afraid of looking silly, sitting on the floor with a plastic bug in one hand and tiny rainbow magnets in the other. Seeing how happy I could make that little girl made me realize being a teacher is what I'm meant to do. I won't save lives, but I'll be able to see firsthand, the impact I have on children. The second part of my epiphany came from a comment between my professor and the Preschool teacher. "How's she doing?" I heard my teacher ask. "The kids just love her. She's really great with them," the preschool teacher responded. Now, there were butterflies in my hand and in my stomach. In addition to that, my TA made a comment on my journal that the teacher and students seem to really love me, saying I seem to be right where I belong.
        Through my experiences at the preschool, I learned I'm right where I belong and that looking silly isn't bad. If I can make a five year old laugh, why does it matter what anyone else thinks? Going back to preschool really let me grow as a person. I can't wait until I actually get to teach and be silly with my own students.