why memory says this isn't goodbye

"It's weird...you know the end of something great is coming, but you want to hold on for just one more second, just so it hurts a little bit more." -Tonya Timmons

And here it is: the final blog post for my English class.

Maybe you too will be parting ways with your fellow classmates in just a few days. If so, you might understand it when I say that we'll be free from the confines of the white walls that held us together for the past four years. Did I just make high school sound like a prison cell? Is there a difference? Just kidding. But seriously, all these thoughts about bidding, to some people, a final farewell is making me nauseous. The welled-up tears in my eyes, the pit in my stomach, and the dizziness in my head caused by the realization that it's the end of this road, makes me absolutely woozy. I loathe this feeling. But I know that goodbyes are inevitable and therefore so are all the emotions that come along with it.

Because of the new TV series Touch, I learned about the Chinese legend of the red string of fate: the idea that gods tied invisible and connected string around the ankles of the people around the world whose lives are meant to touch each other. And this idea that some people are meant to meet one  another, to make a difference in each other's lives, isn't new. So I've been thinking more about it lately because graduation is right around the corner and I would like to think that I will still be connected to the people I have (and haven't) met in high school. Because the uncertainty of not knowing whether or not I'm ever going to see some of these people ever again is killing me.

However, there's another idea that struck me that Duncan Watts in a Psychology Today interview spoke about. He said: "When I joined the Navy, I went through a process of random allocation to a unit. Two guys were with me throughout the recruiting process; we all lined up together, and we each went to separate divisions. In that moment, the rest of our lives got determined. When I look back 24 years later, many of my best and oldest friends and people with whom I had all kinds of life experiences, and without whom I wouldn't be the person that I am--they all were in my division. Do I think that wasn't random? No, of course I think it was random! There was no hand of God coming down and moving me around so that I would meet these people, and go on to have the life I had. But do I think it doesn't mean anything? No. Meaning is something that we create, so it's just as relevant when we associate it with random outcomes as it with non-random ones."

For me, this was an inititally surprising take on fate. Maybe Watts was right in that God, or any spiritual being, had no part in setting up his life experiences. Maybe, in contradiction to Touch, life isn't formulaic and sequential. And maybe life is completely random. Was it random that I met the people I met in high school and had the experiences I had? Maybe.

But regardless of how things came to be, the ultimate thing to take away from the ache of saying goodbye is being able to remember the meaning of our experiences with one another; it's so difficult to part ways because for whatever reason, we were supposed to meet. Those memories will be with me for as long as my health allows.

And that's why I can sleep at night. That's what puts closure on everything: knowing that there's a thread of remembrance linked between me and my peers. Even though we may be miles apart, our memory ensures our close proximity. The legend goes that the string may stretch and tangle, but it will never break. I know that this may be goodbye, but it's not forever.

Guest post: Looking back at memories

The following post is from one of my classmates. Check out her blog, Change is Permanent.

"Just as a prelude to what I am about to discuss, it may be a little hard to understand at first, but stay with me.

Ever notice that when you recall a memory, you aren't looking at other people from your own perspective, but from an outsiders view? In other words you are reflecting at the scene as though you are looking at a fish in a fishbowl. You see the situation from a third person perspective as opposed to first person.

While it is possible to think about memories from a first and third person perspective, the idea that we are sometimes the "outsider" of our own memories intrigued me. What does this say about human nature? Does this outsider view reflect how I have changed as a person?

In a study done by Cornell University, faculty had subjects reflect on their present selves and their high school selves. They had the subjects rate themselves on their social skills before and after high school, invoking a third person perspective. The study concluded that the "third-person recall produces judgments of greater self-change when people are inclined to look for evidence of change, but lesser self-change when they are inclined to look for evidence of continuity." This third person perspective seems to be a way of reflecting on the past as someone different, someone who you weren't before.

This isn't to say that we are changed people because of the way we view a memory. But it may reveal something about how we feel about the people or the place in the memory. This weekend I caught myself recalling my trip to Israel in the third person. While I have no bad memories from the trip, I am not as close as I used to be with the people that were there with me, so this space between us may be creating a third person perspective. So next time you catch yourself recalling a memory from an outside perspective, take a step back and ask yourself why."

A bad case of

(via Katey Lynn)

senioritis: a disease that affects every human being who has ever been a senior in high school. A senior with typical symptoms: not doing homework, not caring that they're not doing homework, not going to school because they're just not feeling going through the dragging process of attending classes that day, they don't pull out their assignment notebook until Sunday night at 11:30 (commonly confused with severe cases of procrastination), etc. They say the disease is contagious; airborne in fact. Seniors who haven't been hit yet, you're part of the lucky bunch. Seniors who have already been hit, you've probably been hit hard. And according to urban dictionary, there's only one cure: graduation. 

How can seniors become so apathetic so suddenly?

I was once a junior and boy does that feel like forever ago. A year can change so much. One moment I'm taking the ACT and the next I'm sending in a $300 enrollment deposit, confirming the next four years of my life. One day I'm pulling out my hair from all the stress that comes with US history homework and the next thing I know I don't even care about the C I get on my Calculus quiz.

The concept of time is a complex idea. In reality, you can only move forward with it. You can turn back clocks but you can never make it the same exact time as it was before. It will never be this date, this time ever again. This whole idea, I'll admit, scares me. The fact that I can't relive, that is. I can't relive that moment when I took the ACT (not that I'd want to), I can't be 16 again, I can't legally drive a car for the first time again, and I can't go back to how it used to be.  I can only look forward to what's ahead. And there's beauty in that. There's beauty in the mystery of the future. Change can be depressing, sure, but it can also be beautiful. There's so much to look forward to: graduation, college, pursuing a career that you want. It's all scary. But we can't escape the inevitability of change. It's the only thing that is consistent. So we might as well accept it, embrace it, and make the best out of the moments we have because there's no way to escape what we can't control.

The Hunger Games, an eco-critical approach

What is eco-criticism? According to Peter Barry's Beginning Theory: An introduction to literary and cultural theory, some things eco-critics do include incorporating concepts such as energy, balance, symbiosis, and sustainability of resources. Eco-critics also examine the concepts of life vs. death and collective ethical responsibility.

I went to watch The Hunger Games on Saturday and I couldn't help but see things with what seemed to be this eco-critical perspective. I found this idea too prevalent to pass up such further investigation. I'm interested in how having this perspective shapes the way I understand the movie as a whole or how this understanding differs from viewers without knowledge of eco-critical theory?

First off, I must confess that I watched the movie without first reading the book. Therefore, my whole perspective of The Hunger Games is based on the movie. However, I heard from several of my friends, huge fans of the books, that the movie stayed true to the novel for the most part and that they were very content with the cinematic version.

(The following paragraphs are what one could call a spoiler alert. If you haven't read the book or watched the movie (and plan to), I suggest you stop reading right here.)

What automatically captivated my attention was the lead character, a girl named Katniss Evergreen, and her distinguishable feature of self-reliance. Not only is she clearly portrayed as the family pillar, but she also has an indisputable connection with nature. This display of the connection between humans and nature is very important in the eco-critical theory.

The woods in which Katniss escapes to hunt for game gives off a sense that the greenery is secure and familiar to her. It seems natural for her to swiftly pull out a bow and arrow and aim for the large deer 20 feet away. Although she has the intent to kill the creature, I could tell from her lifestyle that hunting is a very natural part of her life and that any means of accessing food to survive is a necessity. This situation is also patterned through other characters in District 12. Gale, Katniss' best friend, also hunts to support his family.

When all the tributes are finally set into the arena for the games, they are forced to adjust to the way of life in the forest. Katniss proves her extensive knowledge of nature in saving Peeta from eating poisonous berries, climbing trees to escape danger, using the mockingjays as a means of communication, and her overall ability to stay alive.

One other largely important aspect of the eco-critical approach present in the film is the whole concept of life vs. death. The games are a battle to the death. Regardless of who you are fighting, you must kill or be killed. There can only be one winner. It was captivating to watch the kids in the games, who seemed utterly terrified, become so malicious and intent on killing another kid with the same bad-luck to survive. Some kids formed an alliance with each other against the others. The games remind me of the "entertaining" gladiator fights and how there could only be one crowned victor. Only one could live. Only one could die. That provides an interesting balance to the games, and obviously (sarcasm) brings sensibility to its overall purpose. When Katniss and Peeta create an imbalance in the system by both winning the games, all hell breaks loose. Well, all hell is about to break loose. And now we wait in anticipation of the second movie.

In summation, The Hunger Games can be looked at very eco-critically and I would like to think that it is a very reasonable way of understanding its madness. Vicious tiger chases and all.

Good Riddance

Regrets: we all have them, no matter how much we tell ourselves not to. Two months from now, I'll be graduating. In four months, I'll be entering the collegiate realm. In five, I'll be an "adult". 3 major events in my life are going to happen in less than half a year. That thought has me up all night and distracted all day because in truth, I do regret a lot of things that happened in the past four years. It's trendy and cliche to insist that having regrets would only further complicate our lives; without them, we wouldn't be able to learn from them. Sometimes I think that having regrets can be a good thing. Having a regret means that one acknowledges a mistake, a bad decision, a wrong path taken in their life. That acknowledgment and acceptance is the first step towards ensuring better decision making in the future.

When I read this article, I wasn't surprised to find "education" and "career" as the top two categories of regret. In fact, I felt rather reassured that those were the two biggest regrets of the people surveyed. 1. I could and should have pushed myself harder in my studies in high school. I don't know how different my life would have been if I did, but since I get this question a lot, I say that I would do the past four years differently if I could. 2. I haven't found my passion, but I know my interests and I'm trying my best to pick a career that I succeed in and love simultaneously and more importantly, not regret.

Regrets can tear us up and bring us down. Regrets can make us understand and appreciate. Regrets: we can choose to ignore them and move in a different direction, or we can recognize them and move forward.

Addicted on acceptance

In the novel Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom, Morrie explains to Mitch that one way to deal with pain is to completely immerse yourself in that painful sensation, allowing for the full ability to detach yourself from that feeling.

This blog post by Lance Dodes harps on a similar idea which I found quite interesting: in order to become "un-addicted" to something, you must not repress your thoughts about your addiction. Dodes explains that one cannot simply push aside thoughts about, say, a yearning to drink excessively. By fully recognizing your need to drink, you have then become aware of your problem. Convincing yourself that you don't want to drink makes the problem worse in the apparent lack of self-recognition and acceptance. The easier it is to accept these thoughts, the easier is becomes to predict their onset, and therefore the easier to disengage with that obsession, reliance, and addiction on something, whatever it may be.

Psychoanalysis: The next years

2012. Later this year, me and my six hundred some peers will be graduating from high school. Tomorrow will be March. 3 months have already gone by this year which means that there's only technically 3 more months until it's all over. Only 3 more months left and yet I'm still undecided on not only a college but also a career.

When we were younger, it was okay to want to become a teacher or a musician or an Olypmpic athlte. It was okay and even encouraged to chase those dreams. I don't know when it was, but there was a point in time when those dreams morphed into reality. I always dreamt of becoming an Olympic volleyball player. I know of senior students who would make fantastic teachers but aren't pursuing that career because they know it's exceptionally difficult to land a job after college. However, I do know students who are going into college with the intent of majoring in education because they know that's what they will succeed in. Although I'm 110% supportive of those kids and their motives, I do understand where the first group of students are coming from.

Ostensibly, the nation (as well as the world) has recently been struggling economically. Our nation's leaders have failed to pull us out of debt and it's affecting everyone. As incomes significantly drop, college tuition continues to rise. Gas prices are increasing and for the most part increased taxes are hitting Americans hard. A lot of high school seniors (myself very much included) are currently feeling the pressure to get on the right track now. Even though I hear things like "follow your dreams" and "don't let anyone tell you that you can't do something" I still hear voices in my head telling me to do the more realistic things. Don't act. Don't teach. Don't become an audio engineer; even that doesn't pay enough. These thoughts...are they my own? Are they my parents'? Are they society's? What should I DO?

My parents told me to find a path on which I would be successful. Whatever it may be, whether or not it's my dream, ensure the utmost success out of it. I find conflict here: what if my dream is to play international volleyball for the rest of my life? I mean, I'm not going to lie. I have thought about that. But then I have to ask myself like I was taught: will I be successful at it? That much I cannot guarantee. So here I am declaring a psychology and international relations major and minor respectively, hoping to become a successful child psychiatrist. Hopefully I'll find ways to play volleyball and travel when I'm not in a therapy session.

I know these times are tough and I don't even have a steady job or a family to support. I only hope that I can come to terms with what I have learned from my parent's advice and society confines while simultaneously remembering what I've wanted to pursue since 5th grade.