After four years of college, everything's finally done. Over. Ending. It's a bittersweet emotion we all have rising to the tops of our throats now, knowing this. We've each absorbed different lessons from our classes, our family and friends, our mentors. Our experiences and our mistakes. For me, from these past four years, the most valuable lesson I've learned is this: I know absolutely nothing about everything.
College has taught me that I know nothing about life, love, or all the things that fall in between. I thought that at the end of receiving a world-class education, I would know without a doubt what friendship, love and life really are. Turns out, though, I really don't. I don't even know what this ambiguous thing we call the future is.
It has been a whirlwind of late nights, long weeks and lazy days, and now, four years later, I don't know that I'm anywhere closer to being a full-fledged "grown-up" than I was four years ago when I first set foot on USC's campus.
These are terrifying realizations to come upon at the end of a four-year journey, I know, but there's an explanation for all this nothingness that I now know so well. Really. I hope (and secretly know) that I'm not the only one who is doubtful about how the knowledge and skills I've acquired at USC will play out in the "real world." Four years, umpteen all-nighters, countless papers, a few strands of sanity and several tens of thousands - scratch that, hundreds of thousands - of dollars later, how much will my ability to properly write a lede or a lab report translate into success in my career?
A whole lot, the way I see it - though not necessarily how you might think.
******
The truth of the matter is, is that college teaches you to embrace your ignorance, and more than that, to use it to your advantage. I'm a sucker for quotes - the cheesier the better - and the one that I have tacked on my wall across from my desk is the one that's stuck with me all these years.
“If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything.”
Let me say this again, as the Win Borden quote does, in my opinion, bear repeating.
"If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything."
In other words, acknowledging that you know nothing is the start of a beautiful journey to discovering everything. You have to break down a little bit to build yourself back up. You have to jump into things uncertain, or you'll never really jump at all.
******
Let's go back four years. Imagine: it's the beginning of freshman year, and we were adjusting to a lot of new experiences. We were meeting people from all corners of the country and from a wide range of different backgrounds. You shake a lot of people's hands those first few weeks. Name? Major? City? It felt like a never-ending parade of "hi's" and "how are you's." In those first few weeks, you feel like you know a lot, that you're very sure about where you came from and what you want to experience in college.
You define yourself by your major (or lack thereof), because somehow in the gap between high school and college, you were told that you had to be a certain way and a certain type of person in order to succeed. You have to be sure of things before getting started. I know for a fact that for my first few papers for Writing 140, I would research everything, map out my outline and write draft after draft, convinced that what I knew worked in high school would translate into college.
Wrong.
My first paper back was drowned in a sea of red marks, scratches, and that ominous grade at the top of the paper. Didn't I do everything right? Hadn't I gone by-the-books, followed the step-by-step formula of Writing 140 paper success? I had just finished stacks upon stacks of college application essays. I knew myself. I knew how to plug in the parts of an equation to get the answer I was looking for. I knew.
And here I thought I knew how to write! I thought I was going into journalism. I thought I knew. I thought, I thought, I thought.
You learn, jumping from high school to college, that a lot of the things you thought you knew - don't apply. College isn't a new chapter of your life - it's a whole other book. And more than that, a lot of the things I discovered I didn't know, I didn't know I didn't know prior to USC anyway.
Confusing? Case in point:
******
That first semester, I was still under the impression that I was going to be expanding upon my activities from high school. I'm from Cerritos, California, which has a whole lot of Asian Americans, so when I heard about APASS, I thought, "Here's a good way for me to start college with some semblance of familiarity. These are my people." And I didn't think there would be very much the department or the programs or the organizations could teach me that I didn't know already.
This couldn't have been further from the truth. The only thing that I had been right in guessing was that being around Asian Americans would be a form of familiarity. After being involved with Connections!, through which I found two lifelong mentors; PEER Mentoring, through which I was able to act as a mentor; APA Student Welcome, where I was able to engage new students with the USC campus; and Bamboo Offshoot, my pet project of sorts, bringing APA issues to light through writing and reporting - after being involved with so many programs under APASS, I discovered that I really didn't know there was so much I didn't know before.
But just because I didn't know everything didn't mean that I couldn't take action and start to do something.
"If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything."
Having APASS as a home base has meant that I gained the foundation and the confidence I needed to venture out and put words into action.
Serving on the APASA board showed me that communication was key to getting programs, events and progress on the roll. It wasn't enough to learn about how the APA community is notoriously silent on campus. I wanted to strengthen my writing skills, my voice, to bolster it.
Speaking with younger students as a PEER mentor made me reflect on my own struggles to balance home life just 20 minutes away and college life here. It wasn't enough to learn about the difficulties of being Asian American and balancing Asian conservatism with American values of individuality. I wanted to help the next incoming classes know more about it.
More than that, I was learning about my own collegiate career as a journalism major. This showed me that it definitely wasn't enough to learn about glass - er, bamboo - ceilings and being a model minority. I wanted to turn that frustration into motivation to do unconventional things, to push boundaries and to succeed in uncommon fields.
So even though I wasn't entirely sure that it was the right step to take - especially after that first paper left me questioning - I knew that the best way I could service my community and myself would be through writing. And these last four years have allowed me to do so.
******
As I look out over the graduating seniors tonight, I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about when I say, too, that we've all spent a lot of long hours in activities and organizations and practices and meetings for things outside the classroom, for things we didn't know would pay off in the end. There is no guarantee that any of the steps we've taken during our four years will lead us to where we want to be. But remember:
"If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything."
A part of the quote that I didn't explain earlier is that, in addition to having to know nothing to learn something, you have to trust that regardless of what comes next, you'll never know completely that what you're doing is right. And that's the beauty of uncertainty. Graduating at this point in history, at any point of history, means not knowing exactly what you're getting into. Looked at more positively, that means that the world is just full of possibilities. How's that for glass half full?
It's been a long journey, to say the least, to try to figure out what you know, what you knew, what you will discover in the coming years after graduation. It's going to be an amazing adventure, one in which we all learn so much about ourselves and the world we're about to jump into.
USC didn't teach me absolutely nothing, just that I need to recognize that, stepping into the real world, I'll need to embrace that lack of knowledge. It's okay to be unsure. Take risks, ask questions, and enjoy the view when you take that leap of faith.
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”
Congratulations, class of 2009, and thanks for listening. It's been an honor to speak before you, and I wish you the best in everything life has to offer.
After four years of college, everything's finally done. But it isn't over, ending, el fin. It's just beginning.
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
16 May 2009
05 May 2009
Silence
... is beautiful.
Currently studying up in law and soaking in all the knowledge this little alcove has to offer. I've never felt more collegiate, har har.
I think I want to remember this for a while.
Currently studying up in law and soaking in all the knowledge this little alcove has to offer. I've never felt more collegiate, har har.
I think I want to remember this for a while.
27 April 2009
Four years later...
So I was checking my STARS report this afternoon, and it startled me just how much of the page read blue. I've become accustomed to looking for incompletes and scanning the page for the bits of red that pop out of the document, but today, I only saw a sea of ultramarine blue. And it's funny, because despite all the dramatic lasts - last classes, last meeting, last issue - that have been bubbling to the surface as of late, it was seeing this oddly soothing shade of blue that really made the weight of four years sink in today.
Looking over classes that I've taken at USC really helps to solidify each semester, and instantly brings me back to all the different experiences each one had to offer.
This is what makes four year seem like such an extended period of time:
So much time, money and effort spent on these courses and what to show of it? Four years of education and experience and life, in a wide range of topics I never would have imagined possible.
Irreplaceable and worth every minute.
Looking over classes that I've taken at USC really helps to solidify each semester, and instantly brings me back to all the different experiences each one had to offer.
This is what makes four year seem like such an extended period of time:
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| CLAS-280g | 4.0 | Classical Mythology |
| WRIT-140 | 4.0 | Writing and Critical Reasoning |
| PHIL-140g | 4.0 | Contemporary Moral and Social Issues |
| EALC-220 | 4.0 | Japanese III |
| JOUR-190 | 2.0 | Introduction to Journalism |
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| EALC-110g | 4.0 | East Asian Humanities: The Great Tradition |
| THTR-184A | 2.0 | Jazz Dance |
| PSYC-100 | 4.0 | Introduction to Psychology |
| PHYS-100Lxg | 4.0 | The Physical World |
| JOUR-201 | 4.0 | History of News in Modern America |
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| PSYC-360 | 4.0 | Abnormal Psychology |
| PSYC-305 | 4.0 | Learning and Memory |
| JOUR-203 | 3.0 | Newswriting: Broadcast |
| JOUR-202 | 3.0 | Newswriting: Print |
| EALC-222 | 4.0 | Japanese IV |
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| THTR-183B | 2.0 | Ballet |
| PSYC-359 | 4.0 | Interpersonal Relations |
| JOUR-303 | 3.0 | Reporting: Broadcast |
| JOUR-302 | 3.0 | Reporting: Print |
| ARLT-100g | 4.0 | Arts and Letters |
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| FA-102 | 4.0 | Design Fundamentals |
| WRIT-340 | 4.0 | Advanced Writing |
| PSYC-338 | 4.0 | Adolescent Development |
| JOUR-309 | 3.0 | Introduction to Online Media |
| JOUR-308 | 3.0 | Newspaper Editing and Design |
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| JOUR-300O | 1.5 | Off-campus Studies |
| JOUR-300O | 1.5 | Off-campus Studies |
| JOUR-300O | 3.0 | Off-campus Studies |
| JOUR-300O | 2.0 | Off-campus Studies |
| SOCI-100O | 4.0 | Off-campus Studies |
| COMM-300O | 4.0 | Off-Campus Studies |
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| JOUR-090x | 0.0 | Internships in the Media |
| JOUR-310 | 4.0 | Investigative Reporting |
| PSYC-462m | 0.0 | Minority Mental Health |
| PSYC-201Lg | 4.0 | The Science of Happiness |
| JOUR-431 | 4.0 | Feature Writing |
| Course | Units Earned | Course Description |
| PSYC-464 | 4.0 | Psychology of Marriage and the Family |
| AMST-449m | 4.0 | Asian American Literature |
| JOUR-470 | 2.0 | Community Journalism |
| JOUR-462 | 4.0 | Law of Mass Communication |
So much time, money and effort spent on these courses and what to show of it? Four years of education and experience and life, in a wide range of topics I never would have imagined possible.
Irreplaceable and worth every minute.
06 April 2009
Against the (main)stream
Circumstances are for the weak. With the current state of the economy - five million jobs lost and counting, according to the New York Times - it's easy for Americans to get caught in the undercurrent of the tidal wave of apathy washing over its once-glimmering shores. Gone are the days of job security and anxiety over potential promotions. In their place are countdowns to last days and the underlying fear of the dreaded "downsizing" company speech.
The reality is that, given these circumstances, most graduating college seniors will find themselves in an upstream struggle against a barrage of student loans, apartment hunting woes and most importantly, a crumbling job market. Four years of college have come and gone, and what's left in the wake of this whirlwind are the lackluster remnants of a viable economy.
It's not, in other words, a very rosy picture.
Still, the difference between those who manage to fight their way to the top of the stream and those who flounder in the flow of negativity is a matter of attitude, not circumstances. Jumping headfirst into the uncertainty of the job market is no easy task, but without that first initial dive, there is no chance of catching that rare drift of happenstance. There can be no opportunities gained or lessons learned while living in quiet fear on the edge of the water.
As such, many college seniors can no longer rest on their laurels if they hope to someday reach their dream jobs. Careers, these days, aren't earned. They are, in fact, made. Entrepreneurship classes have increased their enrollment numbers throughout the country, and leading universities such as the University of Southern California (the so-called "University of the 21st Century") have even begun to create courses to promote "entrepreneurial journalism" - teaching students to create blogs and use their journalistic writing skills in new, unmapped ways.
Because the economy is at the lowest point it has ever been in American history (here, the Great Depression humbly tips its fedora to this generation's financial crisis), it can be surmised that, on the bright side, there is nothing left to lose. Almost literally.
And because so much of the social situation is unprecedented, it is up to this imminent generation entering the workforce to redefine what it means to live for the moment and act without a safety net. It is up to them to become the next breed of up-and-coming tastemakers, creative thinkers and overall movers and shakers.
It's living in the now, living for that moment of weightlessness and uncertainty. It's the drive to succeed because there's no looking back (or down, in this safety net analogy).
There are too many reasons not to do something, but the one reason anyone should ever really take a risk and do it anyway trumps all those other reasons: Passionate people pursue their interests because they wholeheartedly want to, not because said passions will bring with them a certain level of status, fame, or riches.
They make career moves and gravitate toward their true passions because this is what it means to live free and feel the exhilaration of free falling into the unknown. This is the true taste of success.
If Hollywood and the media have taught society anything, it's that breaking free from a stilted norm or set of circumstances is how people find true happiness - Zach Braff did it in "Garden State." Will Smith did it in "The Pursuit of Happyness." Heck, even James McAvoy did it in the horrendous Matrix-meets-300-meets-Fight Club mash-up "Wanted."
The moral of the story being that, in all three instances, if you don't like your circumstances, then change them. Destiny will only wait around on the steps of the Royal Ball for so long before you have to run up and meet her.
For graduating college seniors, this means accepting that the economy is at a low point, and that any job openings probably won't be particularly lucrative for the time being. But this also means that there will be a distinct separation between those who surge forward and those who opt to ride out the economic wave, sitting docilely while they wait for good ideas to float by.
Because with the very potent combination of patience and purpose, circumstances can easily be vanquished, discarded and recycled into a new, more streamlined set of attitudes and sense of self.
At the end of the day, there's nothing more satisfying than standing on the strength of our own convictions, facing the waters boldly and awaiting the next big wave.
The reality is that, given these circumstances, most graduating college seniors will find themselves in an upstream struggle against a barrage of student loans, apartment hunting woes and most importantly, a crumbling job market. Four years of college have come and gone, and what's left in the wake of this whirlwind are the lackluster remnants of a viable economy.
It's not, in other words, a very rosy picture.
Still, the difference between those who manage to fight their way to the top of the stream and those who flounder in the flow of negativity is a matter of attitude, not circumstances. Jumping headfirst into the uncertainty of the job market is no easy task, but without that first initial dive, there is no chance of catching that rare drift of happenstance. There can be no opportunities gained or lessons learned while living in quiet fear on the edge of the water.
As such, many college seniors can no longer rest on their laurels if they hope to someday reach their dream jobs. Careers, these days, aren't earned. They are, in fact, made. Entrepreneurship classes have increased their enrollment numbers throughout the country, and leading universities such as the University of Southern California (the so-called "University of the 21st Century") have even begun to create courses to promote "entrepreneurial journalism" - teaching students to create blogs and use their journalistic writing skills in new, unmapped ways.
Because the economy is at the lowest point it has ever been in American history (here, the Great Depression humbly tips its fedora to this generation's financial crisis), it can be surmised that, on the bright side, there is nothing left to lose. Almost literally.
And because so much of the social situation is unprecedented, it is up to this imminent generation entering the workforce to redefine what it means to live for the moment and act without a safety net. It is up to them to become the next breed of up-and-coming tastemakers, creative thinkers and overall movers and shakers.
It's living in the now, living for that moment of weightlessness and uncertainty. It's the drive to succeed because there's no looking back (or down, in this safety net analogy).
There are too many reasons not to do something, but the one reason anyone should ever really take a risk and do it anyway trumps all those other reasons: Passionate people pursue their interests because they wholeheartedly want to, not because said passions will bring with them a certain level of status, fame, or riches.
They make career moves and gravitate toward their true passions because this is what it means to live free and feel the exhilaration of free falling into the unknown. This is the true taste of success.
If Hollywood and the media have taught society anything, it's that breaking free from a stilted norm or set of circumstances is how people find true happiness - Zach Braff did it in "Garden State." Will Smith did it in "The Pursuit of Happyness." Heck, even James McAvoy did it in the horrendous Matrix-meets-300-meets-Fight Club mash-up "Wanted."
The moral of the story being that, in all three instances, if you don't like your circumstances, then change them. Destiny will only wait around on the steps of the Royal Ball for so long before you have to run up and meet her.
For graduating college seniors, this means accepting that the economy is at a low point, and that any job openings probably won't be particularly lucrative for the time being. But this also means that there will be a distinct separation between those who surge forward and those who opt to ride out the economic wave, sitting docilely while they wait for good ideas to float by.
Because with the very potent combination of patience and purpose, circumstances can easily be vanquished, discarded and recycled into a new, more streamlined set of attitudes and sense of self.
At the end of the day, there's nothing more satisfying than standing on the strength of our own convictions, facing the waters boldly and awaiting the next big wave.
27 November 2008
Beauty in the Breakdown
Things haven’t been the same ever since my car was broken into nearly three weeks ago. It took someone breaking in for me to break down and slowly build myself back up. In the last few weeks, I’ve gone from desperation to reflection to hope to pure bliss. It’s been a roller-coaster of events and emotions, but I’m so grateful for having circumstances be what they have been – in a weird way, losing so much really made me open my eyes to see not only what I already had, but also what I had already been lacking even before my material things were stolen.
And there was so much I hadn’t even noticed.
So much of this semester has been a test – of my patience, of my time-management abilities, of my own solid sense of self in the midst of so many moving, shifting pieces. If the Nike 10K was any indication, I jumped into this semester with all the hope and ambition in the world – I thought myself prepared for the long road ahead of me; stretched, prepped and charged. I had trained vigorously over the summer for what I saw as a warm-up for the main event: the LA Marathon in March (now moved to May!), and approached the night run as just another practice, an extended version of a familiar route.
“Don’t keel over, please,” I remember saying to my friend as we jumped up and down in the crowd prior to the official start of the race. He gave me a look, a silent “Child, please” before continuing to jump to keep warm. We joked about who would finish first, and how, if one of us did end up collapsing, it would selfishly cost the other his or her final time on account of having to step over the fallen runner.
Ominous words.
I was going into the race with hardly any sleep in the last week, having been on deadline for both my newsmagazine publication and my internship, moving out of my brother’s apartment and into my own, and acting as host to a friend from out of state. Looking back, a marathon – even a 6-mile marathon – was probably the last thing I should’ve been doing given my situation.
But still, I fought on.
Even when, during the middle of the race, I felt myself growing tired and my vision beginning to blur, I pushed on because I was convinced my fatigue was just a momentary phase for me to power through. My only real goal for the race was to never stop running – it became clear, though, that if I continued on at the rate I was going, I wouldn’t even get to the finish line.
So I walked.
But the power and the surge of the people around me motivated me to keep on – so after several steps of power walking, I would increase my pace to a trot and then a jog. There was conviction in my gait, or so I’d like to think. Then, as I rounded the corner for the final stretch down Figueroa toward the entrance of the Coliseum, I felt something click within me. I sprinted. The finish line was so close I could see the ribbon stretched taut across the street, the crowds of volunteers leaning from the sidewalk to congratulate runners, the lights from beyond the gate glaring into the faces of exhausted participants. I could feel the beat of the music from the Coliseum, moving in and out of sync with the rapid thumping in my chest. I felt a burst of energy.
And then everything went black.
Waking up sprawled on the ground with paramedics surrounding you is a pretty dang horrifying feeling. I couldn’t wrap my head around the situation for the longest time, and the words that kept spewing from my mouth weren’t mine. I couldn’t control the way my hands kept gesturing, or how I would wince and twist away from human touch. I didn’t know how to get the paramedics to understand that, and I didn’t have any feeling in my legs. Those moments – and I had no real idea how long I had been drifting in and out of consciousness – were some of the most terrifying of my life.
I was convinced I was going to die.
My logic was shot to pieces and I felt what can most closely be described as an out-of-body experience. It was as though I were already drifting away from the physical world and I was helpless to do anything to stop my mind from escaping from the situation completely. I just remember wishing I could wake up from the horrendous dream, and I squeezed my eyes tightly to make sure my wish came true. My mind began to drift.
But then something grounded me.
One of the paramedics began to ask me questions. Who are you? What’s your name? Where are you from? What did you eat today? What are you studying? Anything and everything to keep me awake, to keep my mind functioning as they lifted me onto a gurney and then into the ambulance. I caught blips of his questions and began to respond in half-hearted jest, trying to make light of the situation.
The sirens only registered half the time.
After spending the night at the hospital and seeing my parents wander timidly through the curtains into the room (separately, only one visitor at a time), I felt myself grow impatient. Not with the situation, the fact that I had to be bed-ridden for another 24 hours and constantly drink fluids (they claimed I had collapsed from extreme dehydration and exhaustion), but with myself, at having let myself get into such a situation as to make my parents worry after my health and well-being. In the dark, I lay awake and chided myself for putting myself in a position of helplessness and causing others worry. This isn’t how I had expected to start off my senior year.
Flash forward to three weeks ago, when I first opened my drivers’ side door to discover what I first assumed to be hail strewn across my seat, and it makes more sense why that break-in led to a mental breakdown later on that week. My first reaction when I glanced up to see my entire passenger-side window smashed in wasn’t panic, but a slowly creeping feeling of déjà vu. It was around 5 p.m., just after the awards ceremony for the dragon boat tournament at Lake Merced up in San Francisco. I had put the speeding ticket I got on the drive up out of my mind, and this just minimized the incident that much more.
In the moment, I felt helpless. It was as though a string of rather unpleasant (to put it lightly) events were following me. Throughout the course of the semester, I felt as though I had been working hard but had lost sight of the reasons why.
I had been focusing so much on establishing something with Bamboo Offshoot, but felt as though I were the only one putting in any effort. Apathy was eating away at my staff, and production had been going poorly despite my efforts to save it.
I hadn’t been able to maintain relationships and keep up with those near and dear to me because I’d been so busy with extracurriculars and school.
I was stuck in the middle of family drama that involved a close cousin being disowned from the family.
I hadn’t been starting up the blogs or freelancing I had aimed to do at the beginning of the semester.
I didn’t have a job secured.
I was behind in all of my class work, and was literally failing a course.
I’d let my parents down by getting myself into this situation and would have to find a way to pay them back for these damages. They would worry.
I had been lacking the purpose I initially began the semester with, and as much as I wanted to trivialize the fact that my window had been smashed and my things stolen, I just couldn’t. It was the last straw in a string of unfortunate events, and I wanted to just curl up in a ball and give up. All I saw were the negatives and the lack-ofs. It was hard to see the situation any other way.
But then I saw how everyone else was responding to the situation, and I knew I could only let myself be down and out for those few brief minutes. A friend’s wallet, phone, purse, ID, credit cards – had all been stolen from my backseat. I felt guilty, whether or not I had reason to feel that way, and I shifted my attention to that rather than focus on my own issues. What I had stolen was replaceable. Take a step back. No one was hurt, no reason to stress. Everything would work itself out. It might not seem like it in the moment, but the situation really wasn’t as bad as it seemed, in the grand scheme of things. I decided not to let myself get to emotionally invested. Everything would be okay.
Everything will be okay.
And everything was fine for those first few days after driving back from San Francisco. I was overwhelmed with the outpouring of concern from my teammates, friends and family, and I truly felt like I had needed something like this to happen to help ground me and put me back on the right track. I had been looking too much at the negatives to see their counterpart positives. The only problem was, I hadn’t let myself get all those emotions out of my head. There hadn’t been any catharsis, and my frustrations had simply been compartmentalized.
The Tuesday night following the Sunday break-in marked my first real emotional breakdown in a long time. In talking to a friend about the incident, I began to tear up, and my emotions and fears began to pour forth. I don’t think I ever expelled all those pent-up feelings, a whole semester’s worth, and it felt like such a huge relief to say everything that had been on my mind for far too long. I’ve always credited myself as being capable of taking on situations and being the comforter in times of distress – I shy away from being vulnerable, and that has translated into a lack of outward emotional reaction to anything big that had happened in the past semester, good or bad. It took a lot for me to admit that I wasn’t okay.
Everything’s a big deal, he said. Everything is a huge freaking deal.
Someone breaking into your car? Huge deal. React to it.
Getting accepted into Teach For America? Huge deal. React to it.
People not meeting deadlines and not respecting the publication? Huge deal. React to it.
Worried about how you’re failing one of your classes? Huge deal. React to it.
Having your parents tell you that your actions are selfish? Huge deal. React to it.
Too much of the semester had been spent convincing myself that things were fine, when really they probably could have been better. I had been running on empty for so long but had had too much pride or had been too buried under layers of denial to see it. I don’t cry enough. Or get angry enough. I downplay successes and gloss over disappointments. It’s not a healthy way to live.
But now, post-reflection and post-breakdown, things have started looking up in a very big way. I’ve taken on the editor-in-chief position for the Daily Trojan next semester, and I’m at once terrified and excited about the opportunity. It took a lot of thinking and reassessing to finally conclude that this was and is the right choice, but now that I’ve committed, there’s no turning back.
I heard back from Teach For America. My final interview is in just two weeks’ time and I’m anxiously preparing for the day-long process.
I met and spoke with Jeannie Kim, the executive editor over at Time Inc. just last Friday. I think I may have an internship for the summer.
So many things, so many circumstances. It’s been quite a trip and this is just the tip of the iceberg, really. I’ve never felt so blessed to have so many amazing people in my life – were it not for them, I doubt these past three weeks would have turned out quite the way they have.
Sometimes, you need to see the pieces of your life for what they are before you can fit a new window in their place. Break in, break down. Fill out, fill up.
It’s looking a lot clearer today.
And there was so much I hadn’t even noticed.
So much of this semester has been a test – of my patience, of my time-management abilities, of my own solid sense of self in the midst of so many moving, shifting pieces. If the Nike 10K was any indication, I jumped into this semester with all the hope and ambition in the world – I thought myself prepared for the long road ahead of me; stretched, prepped and charged. I had trained vigorously over the summer for what I saw as a warm-up for the main event: the LA Marathon in March (now moved to May!), and approached the night run as just another practice, an extended version of a familiar route.
“Don’t keel over, please,” I remember saying to my friend as we jumped up and down in the crowd prior to the official start of the race. He gave me a look, a silent “Child, please” before continuing to jump to keep warm. We joked about who would finish first, and how, if one of us did end up collapsing, it would selfishly cost the other his or her final time on account of having to step over the fallen runner.
Ominous words.
I was going into the race with hardly any sleep in the last week, having been on deadline for both my newsmagazine publication and my internship, moving out of my brother’s apartment and into my own, and acting as host to a friend from out of state. Looking back, a marathon – even a 6-mile marathon – was probably the last thing I should’ve been doing given my situation.
But still, I fought on.
Even when, during the middle of the race, I felt myself growing tired and my vision beginning to blur, I pushed on because I was convinced my fatigue was just a momentary phase for me to power through. My only real goal for the race was to never stop running – it became clear, though, that if I continued on at the rate I was going, I wouldn’t even get to the finish line.
So I walked.
But the power and the surge of the people around me motivated me to keep on – so after several steps of power walking, I would increase my pace to a trot and then a jog. There was conviction in my gait, or so I’d like to think. Then, as I rounded the corner for the final stretch down Figueroa toward the entrance of the Coliseum, I felt something click within me. I sprinted. The finish line was so close I could see the ribbon stretched taut across the street, the crowds of volunteers leaning from the sidewalk to congratulate runners, the lights from beyond the gate glaring into the faces of exhausted participants. I could feel the beat of the music from the Coliseum, moving in and out of sync with the rapid thumping in my chest. I felt a burst of energy.
And then everything went black.
Waking up sprawled on the ground with paramedics surrounding you is a pretty dang horrifying feeling. I couldn’t wrap my head around the situation for the longest time, and the words that kept spewing from my mouth weren’t mine. I couldn’t control the way my hands kept gesturing, or how I would wince and twist away from human touch. I didn’t know how to get the paramedics to understand that, and I didn’t have any feeling in my legs. Those moments – and I had no real idea how long I had been drifting in and out of consciousness – were some of the most terrifying of my life.
I was convinced I was going to die.
My logic was shot to pieces and I felt what can most closely be described as an out-of-body experience. It was as though I were already drifting away from the physical world and I was helpless to do anything to stop my mind from escaping from the situation completely. I just remember wishing I could wake up from the horrendous dream, and I squeezed my eyes tightly to make sure my wish came true. My mind began to drift.
But then something grounded me.
One of the paramedics began to ask me questions. Who are you? What’s your name? Where are you from? What did you eat today? What are you studying? Anything and everything to keep me awake, to keep my mind functioning as they lifted me onto a gurney and then into the ambulance. I caught blips of his questions and began to respond in half-hearted jest, trying to make light of the situation.
The sirens only registered half the time.
After spending the night at the hospital and seeing my parents wander timidly through the curtains into the room (separately, only one visitor at a time), I felt myself grow impatient. Not with the situation, the fact that I had to be bed-ridden for another 24 hours and constantly drink fluids (they claimed I had collapsed from extreme dehydration and exhaustion), but with myself, at having let myself get into such a situation as to make my parents worry after my health and well-being. In the dark, I lay awake and chided myself for putting myself in a position of helplessness and causing others worry. This isn’t how I had expected to start off my senior year.
Flash forward to three weeks ago, when I first opened my drivers’ side door to discover what I first assumed to be hail strewn across my seat, and it makes more sense why that break-in led to a mental breakdown later on that week. My first reaction when I glanced up to see my entire passenger-side window smashed in wasn’t panic, but a slowly creeping feeling of déjà vu. It was around 5 p.m., just after the awards ceremony for the dragon boat tournament at Lake Merced up in San Francisco. I had put the speeding ticket I got on the drive up out of my mind, and this just minimized the incident that much more.
In the moment, I felt helpless. It was as though a string of rather unpleasant (to put it lightly) events were following me. Throughout the course of the semester, I felt as though I had been working hard but had lost sight of the reasons why.
I had been focusing so much on establishing something with Bamboo Offshoot, but felt as though I were the only one putting in any effort. Apathy was eating away at my staff, and production had been going poorly despite my efforts to save it.
I hadn’t been able to maintain relationships and keep up with those near and dear to me because I’d been so busy with extracurriculars and school.
I was stuck in the middle of family drama that involved a close cousin being disowned from the family.
I hadn’t been starting up the blogs or freelancing I had aimed to do at the beginning of the semester.
I didn’t have a job secured.
I was behind in all of my class work, and was literally failing a course.
I’d let my parents down by getting myself into this situation and would have to find a way to pay them back for these damages. They would worry.
I had been lacking the purpose I initially began the semester with, and as much as I wanted to trivialize the fact that my window had been smashed and my things stolen, I just couldn’t. It was the last straw in a string of unfortunate events, and I wanted to just curl up in a ball and give up. All I saw were the negatives and the lack-ofs. It was hard to see the situation any other way.
But then I saw how everyone else was responding to the situation, and I knew I could only let myself be down and out for those few brief minutes. A friend’s wallet, phone, purse, ID, credit cards – had all been stolen from my backseat. I felt guilty, whether or not I had reason to feel that way, and I shifted my attention to that rather than focus on my own issues. What I had stolen was replaceable. Take a step back. No one was hurt, no reason to stress. Everything would work itself out. It might not seem like it in the moment, but the situation really wasn’t as bad as it seemed, in the grand scheme of things. I decided not to let myself get to emotionally invested. Everything would be okay.
Everything will be okay.
And everything was fine for those first few days after driving back from San Francisco. I was overwhelmed with the outpouring of concern from my teammates, friends and family, and I truly felt like I had needed something like this to happen to help ground me and put me back on the right track. I had been looking too much at the negatives to see their counterpart positives. The only problem was, I hadn’t let myself get all those emotions out of my head. There hadn’t been any catharsis, and my frustrations had simply been compartmentalized.
The Tuesday night following the Sunday break-in marked my first real emotional breakdown in a long time. In talking to a friend about the incident, I began to tear up, and my emotions and fears began to pour forth. I don’t think I ever expelled all those pent-up feelings, a whole semester’s worth, and it felt like such a huge relief to say everything that had been on my mind for far too long. I’ve always credited myself as being capable of taking on situations and being the comforter in times of distress – I shy away from being vulnerable, and that has translated into a lack of outward emotional reaction to anything big that had happened in the past semester, good or bad. It took a lot for me to admit that I wasn’t okay.
Everything’s a big deal, he said. Everything is a huge freaking deal.
Someone breaking into your car? Huge deal. React to it.
Getting accepted into Teach For America? Huge deal. React to it.
People not meeting deadlines and not respecting the publication? Huge deal. React to it.
Worried about how you’re failing one of your classes? Huge deal. React to it.
Having your parents tell you that your actions are selfish? Huge deal. React to it.
Too much of the semester had been spent convincing myself that things were fine, when really they probably could have been better. I had been running on empty for so long but had had too much pride or had been too buried under layers of denial to see it. I don’t cry enough. Or get angry enough. I downplay successes and gloss over disappointments. It’s not a healthy way to live.
But now, post-reflection and post-breakdown, things have started looking up in a very big way. I’ve taken on the editor-in-chief position for the Daily Trojan next semester, and I’m at once terrified and excited about the opportunity. It took a lot of thinking and reassessing to finally conclude that this was and is the right choice, but now that I’ve committed, there’s no turning back.
I heard back from Teach For America. My final interview is in just two weeks’ time and I’m anxiously preparing for the day-long process.
I met and spoke with Jeannie Kim, the executive editor over at Time Inc. just last Friday. I think I may have an internship for the summer.
So many things, so many circumstances. It’s been quite a trip and this is just the tip of the iceberg, really. I’ve never felt so blessed to have so many amazing people in my life – were it not for them, I doubt these past three weeks would have turned out quite the way they have.
Sometimes, you need to see the pieces of your life for what they are before you can fit a new window in their place. Break in, break down. Fill out, fill up.
It’s looking a lot clearer today.
15 August 2008
Food for Thought
Came across this post on the New York Times "The Graduates" blog and really liked it, just thought I would share. It's well-written and brings up a really good point. I'm inspired.
*****
April 19, 2007, 5:39 pm
Good for Goodness’ Sake
By Missy Kurzweil
Most details of my high school graduation are hazy in my memory, but I distinctly remember one speech given by a member of the school board. He turned his back to us seniors onstage and faced our parents in the audience.
“If you had to send your kids off to college with only one of the following nuggets of wisdom,” he asked them, “which would you choose: Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?”
I can’t recall his purpose for raising the question, but I vividly remember my mother’s response. On the car ride home from the ceremony, I asked her which tidbit she would impart to me as I left for college. She paused for a moment and then said confidently, “I’d tell you to be good.”
Her choice was curious to me at the time. Happiness and success are the stuff of life, I thought – the things that every parent wants for his or her child. I didn’t understand how she could so easily subordinate those two to being “good.”
Then Mom explained her reasoning. Happiness and success are important, she said, but she knew I’d strive for those things without being reminded to. Being good, on the other hand, wouldn’t always come as naturally.She was right. In college, I pursued success and happiness of my own accord. I pushed for competitive internships and worked hard in my classes to succeed. I sought satisfying friendships and hit up the best parties to ensure I’d have the happiest college experience possible. Being good, however, was not always as instinctive and rarely proved to be the easiest thing to pursue. Making time to give back to the community was difficult. Searching for recycling bins was infinitely more annoying than throwing away my bottles. Telling my professor the truth about my tardy paper was much scarier than claiming to be sick.
As my mother predicted, morality has been the only one of those nuggets of wisdom that required a constant reminder.
Four years later, we graduate again. The question is the same, but this time it applies to us, not our parents. Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?
It’s clear that today’s graduates are fixated on achieving their own definitions of happiness and success. We want to thrive in the workplace and find careers that we love. And why shouldn’t we? But being good while we pursue those endeavors deserves – perhaps requires – a special reminder.
Even if the nature of our jobs isn’t selfless – if we’re bankers, lawyers, writers or advertisers – we all will face opportunities to be good, or to create good, at some point. We just need to embrace those moments.
My friend Harris always wanted to become a businessman. He received his M.B.A. right after college and pursued a finance job at a large corporate firm. After five years of building his resume and networking, he founded Giftback.com, a gift-ordering Web site that donates 10 percent of every purchase to a charity of the consumer’s choice. The business is thriving, and Harris says he has never been happier.
Another example comes from my friend’s dad, Fred, who graduated from college without much direction. He thought about becoming a teacher, but feared that the salary could not support a family in New York. He eventually decided to go to law school and practice corporate law. At the age of 50, once his practice was established, Fred developed a mentoring program called Lawyers Involved in Kids’ Education (LIKE), which pairs lawyers in his firm with children at a local public school. Fred enjoys his work as a lawyer, but admits that this program is what really makes him come alive.
Our methods of charity may come in the form of being a good friend, child, roommate or coworker. If my college experience is at all indicative of the future, though, being honest or selfless in these roles won’t always come easily or intuitively.
Like Fred, most of us will graduate without a definite plan. We have yet to discover precisely what makes us happy, or exactly how we want to succeed. But if we keep in mind that third admonition – “be good” – we may inadvertently stumble upon happiness and success along the way.
*****
Link to original article here. Real posts to come soon. On a regular basis. For serious.
*****
April 19, 2007, 5:39 pm
Good for Goodness’ Sake
By Missy Kurzweil
Most details of my high school graduation are hazy in my memory, but I distinctly remember one speech given by a member of the school board. He turned his back to us seniors onstage and faced our parents in the audience.
“If you had to send your kids off to college with only one of the following nuggets of wisdom,” he asked them, “which would you choose: Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?”
I can’t recall his purpose for raising the question, but I vividly remember my mother’s response. On the car ride home from the ceremony, I asked her which tidbit she would impart to me as I left for college. She paused for a moment and then said confidently, “I’d tell you to be good.”
Her choice was curious to me at the time. Happiness and success are the stuff of life, I thought – the things that every parent wants for his or her child. I didn’t understand how she could so easily subordinate those two to being “good.”
Then Mom explained her reasoning. Happiness and success are important, she said, but she knew I’d strive for those things without being reminded to. Being good, on the other hand, wouldn’t always come as naturally.She was right. In college, I pursued success and happiness of my own accord. I pushed for competitive internships and worked hard in my classes to succeed. I sought satisfying friendships and hit up the best parties to ensure I’d have the happiest college experience possible. Being good, however, was not always as instinctive and rarely proved to be the easiest thing to pursue. Making time to give back to the community was difficult. Searching for recycling bins was infinitely more annoying than throwing away my bottles. Telling my professor the truth about my tardy paper was much scarier than claiming to be sick.
As my mother predicted, morality has been the only one of those nuggets of wisdom that required a constant reminder.
Four years later, we graduate again. The question is the same, but this time it applies to us, not our parents. Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?
It’s clear that today’s graduates are fixated on achieving their own definitions of happiness and success. We want to thrive in the workplace and find careers that we love. And why shouldn’t we? But being good while we pursue those endeavors deserves – perhaps requires – a special reminder.
Even if the nature of our jobs isn’t selfless – if we’re bankers, lawyers, writers or advertisers – we all will face opportunities to be good, or to create good, at some point. We just need to embrace those moments.
My friend Harris always wanted to become a businessman. He received his M.B.A. right after college and pursued a finance job at a large corporate firm. After five years of building his resume and networking, he founded Giftback.com, a gift-ordering Web site that donates 10 percent of every purchase to a charity of the consumer’s choice. The business is thriving, and Harris says he has never been happier.
Another example comes from my friend’s dad, Fred, who graduated from college without much direction. He thought about becoming a teacher, but feared that the salary could not support a family in New York. He eventually decided to go to law school and practice corporate law. At the age of 50, once his practice was established, Fred developed a mentoring program called Lawyers Involved in Kids’ Education (LIKE), which pairs lawyers in his firm with children at a local public school. Fred enjoys his work as a lawyer, but admits that this program is what really makes him come alive.
Our methods of charity may come in the form of being a good friend, child, roommate or coworker. If my college experience is at all indicative of the future, though, being honest or selfless in these roles won’t always come easily or intuitively.
Like Fred, most of us will graduate without a definite plan. We have yet to discover precisely what makes us happy, or exactly how we want to succeed. But if we keep in mind that third admonition – “be good” – we may inadvertently stumble upon happiness and success along the way.
*****
Link to original article here. Real posts to come soon. On a regular basis. For serious.
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