My First Bells

 The bells have started chiming every fifteen minutes, partitioning the day and serving as a constant reminder to stay on task lest another moment be lost. They also reminded me that I haven't been writing here in awhile.

One excuse is that I've been so busy. But isn't everyone here? They all run eight things and go to another ten meetings for clubs that they're part of. Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough, even though I barely have the time to call home and do my laundry.

To try to keep track of everything, I jot little notes about what I want to write about down in my planner, but when I get back home (yes, the dorm is finally home now) I do work and watch Gilmore Girls and then collapse in bed. 

But life goes on even when I don't have the time to reflect on it. Here's a quick summary of what's been happening:

Last week I wrote an article for the Phoenix about two men that came to give a lecture on environmental and human rights issues concerning the coal mining industry. An hour before the lecture, I sat down to interview the two quirky characters. But to my surprise, their main interest was asking me questions. The 94 year old retired congressman Ken Hechler '35 asked me about my major and career plans. I felt silly that I didn't have some sort of decisive response but at the same time, honored that a congressman concerned with improving the lives of those affected by coal mining took the time to get to know me. Of course, a man as old as that has lost his hearing, so it became a bit of a shouting match, but I relished it nonetheless.

Actually, last week was quite writing intensive. I also had to write my first Swarthmore paper. Quite a daunting task, even though it was only three pages. I fretted, worried, lost all my fingernails, but in the end I got it done. In addition to producing a paper, I also produced a substantial amount of self-knowledge: I hate Philosophy. Coming in to college I always thought I'd want to study it, but now that I'm taking a class on it, I've changed my mind entirely. I thought it would be a bit like English, except with the ideas presented in a more transparent manner. But I find myself missing meeting characters on the page. In those instances, writing a paper is a bit like visiting old friends.

That was way too much text at once. More later. Off to read Descartes!

My First Lullaby

My downstairs neighbor (whom I have yet to meet) has a singing habit. No matter what time of day, no matter how much homework I'm trying to do, his deep tenor voice always floats up through my open window. And despite the beauty of his voice, it gets annoying.

But not tonight. Tonight his song has made me more homesick than I've ever been at Swat. 

As a little girl, whenever I couldn't sleep, my mother and father would come into my room and sing Jame's Taylor's "You've Got a Friend." And when this song comes into my room, I begin to miss my parents, my house, and my bed. It's not that I'm not happy here; it's more that I left my family behind, and they can't go through all these new experiences with me. 

So I run downstairs, knock on his door, and thank him.

My First Lecture

It always seemed exciting to me that learning could take place outside the classroom in college: lectures, clubs, or even just in a conversation with a friend. (Yeah, don't make fun of me for being a geek.) So when I got my first opportunity to go to a lecture, I stuffed my notebook in my pocket and hiked up to Kohlberg to hear "Nuestra America: Latino History as United States History."

 It was one of those formal events where there's someone who introduces the person who introduces the speaker, like six degrees of separation or something. But once Vicki Ruiz started her lecture, I got really into it. I had to struggle to remember enough of my American History class to keep up, but when I did the make connections, it was pretty cool. 

Ruiz used just the right combination of oral history and statistics. Personal testimonials from court cases concerning the custody of a mulatto child and letters about racism in a small town gave me beautiful details to hang on to. But the statistics about the number of Latino soldiers fighting in World War Two gave me a better sense of the big picture.

During the question and answer session she connected all of her scholarly work to the real world. Yay! 

But the end was the best part. After her lecture she stayed to talk to the students in small groups. I would have thought someone who had published so many books would be aloof and run off to catch a flight back to Irvine right after her lecture. She shattered all of my ideas about lectures by shaking hands and chatting with all the gathered students.

I, of course, was too shy to approach her. But maybe next time.

My First Weekend Away

I'm not at Swarthmore! Eek!

For the first time in three weeks I stepped off the campus and out of the so called Swarthmore "bubble." It was surprisingly easy. I took a train right from campus to Philly, from Philly to New York, and from New York to Poughkeepsie (the home of Vassar College). I felt all independent, foraging for my own meals, exploring unknown locations, and navigating complex systems of underground tunnels.

But I got a little lonely too. One nice man next to me on the train asked me about my Linear Algebra homework and reminisced about how much he hated it as a college student. That didn't quite cut it.

While reading The House on Mango Street, I wanted to read my roommate a selection about Juan (the dream guy we made up late one night), but for the first time, she wasn't there. And yeah, I love seeing my high school friends here at Vassar, but its not the same. Who will play catch with me for three hours while discussing philosophy and Sarah Palin? Why aren't the cafeteria trays here decorated with biology diagrams and impromptu poems? Where are all the beautiful plants?

Even though I have to face another hectic week, I'll be happy to go home.

My First Awesome Connection

It hit me right in the middle of Intro to Philosophy: Socratic questioning is just like the Gaussian Method for row reduction. I probably sound like a lunatic. But in truth, I'm just a Swattie. Something about the way Socrates tried to make all the men in Athens see in the contradictions in their arguments made me think of what Dr. Hunter had taught us in Linear Algebra about solving systems of equations. 

This idea was so important to me that I scribbled it down in my planner. But when I looked at it again, it seemed kind of silly, and I couldn't quite grasp the connection or the excitement any more. But then I realized I had my first awesome connection (so I got excited again). I wanted to come here (to Swarthmore) so that I could take a math class just because I wanted to and not have my advisor think that was a waste of time. And now that otherwise unnecessary math class had suddenly given me a new insight and a new way to understand philosophy. Yay!