Eight More Days!

"And since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!" Dean sings. I love this time of year. The food is warm, the songs are glad, and we send gifts to those we care for. Mom, Dad, Joe, and I try to put up the tree, and we have a hitch or two at first, but we get all the lights up by the end of the day. The whole house is quite blithe in the weeks that lead up to break; though there are the tough tests I have to take next week, thoughts of gifts, snow, and Saint Nick make the hard work worth it.

The end of this week marks one of the best parts of this month; each year at the same time, my aunt comes and bakes stuff with us til the point when we are all stuffed with sweet treats. We don't eat all of the things we bake, though. We pack some up and send them to friends as a nice gift wrapped box to open in a few days. Of course I like to make the great food that marks the shift from fall to frost on the ground, boots on our feet, and wreaths on our doors, but I also hold on to these hours I spend with those I love.

And then there are the tunes. We blast the best songs to match the mood, and most of the time that means "Sleigh Ride," "Deck the Halls," and the rare "Joy to the World." But I don't mind that we play the same ones a few times a day; I don't care what song it is as long as it's cute and fits in with the snow day state of mind. Lately I have wished for a night when I go to bed and wake up to snow on the ground. A coat of clean, fresh snow to start the day would be great. It's not that I'm in love with the cold, per se, but a change from the mild, bland days we have had the past few weeks would be quite nice.

In short, I get thrilled when I think of break. Though most of the time the cheer at this time of year is linked to the ways kids act when they hear of Saint Nick and his bag of toys, I have yet to grow out of this stage of awe. I think the songs, food, gifts, and snow will have their own spot in my heart for years to come.

I'm not sure at what point you may have caught on, but I wrote all of this post (this part too!) with short words! It was tough at a few spots, but I'm glad each phrase did not sound too strange. The worst part was when I had to find short words to mean the same things as the long words I would have liked to use. Let me know what you think!

Human Trafficking

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a discussion about human trafficking and sex slavery hosted by the Gender Studies class. I was one of the last to enter a room full of students attentively watching a video about sex slavery in India and the programs created to combat the widespread issue of human trafficking. In the video we watched, actress America Ferrera traveled from the United States to Asia to meet women whose lives had been impacted by human trafficking. She spoke with women who had been tortured since they were extremely young; people recounted their stories of being sold as sex slaves before they were teenagers, unable to escape the constant abuse their entire lives.

We also talked about prostitution within the United States. Members of the Gender Studies class who hosted the meeting asked everyone about the various factors that lead to human trafficking or bolster a lifestyle of prostitution or pimping. Human trafficking, we realized, is not usually portrayed negatively in American media. Many misconceptions of prostitution that we discussed (like that prostitution or pimping is enviable or that violence against women is not bad) are not refuted, and are even at times supported, by advertisements, music, and movies. We watched the music video for 50 Cent's song "P.I.M.P. (featuring Snoop Dogg and G-Unit)" and noted the ways in which this well-known song and video glamorize prostitution and being a pimp. After watching the music video, we read the song's lyrics, which include numerous references to pimps having expensive clothes, cars, and a nice life. Below is the official music video of the song:

There were a few things that were particularly shocking to me among the topics brought up at this discussion, not the least of which was the manner in which sex slavery transpires in countries like India. Very young children from impoverished families are sold for meager amounts and bound to an awful life of prostitution, without any way to get an education or get a better job instead. Hearing stories of girls younger than me being forced into such a brutal, miserable profession, in addition to organizations that work to help these children have better lives, reminded me of how fortunate I am to be in a position where I can go to school, live comfortably, and choose what I want to do.

Another interesting point that came up in the discussion is how different parts of our culture do little to end global human trafficking, and in fact, often uphold the presence of prostitution. We looked at advertisements implying abuse against women and gang rape, as well as songs like the one above that portray prostitution as truly beneficial and enjoyable to all involved. Since such images and ideas have been ingrained in popular music and advertisements, I hadn't realized how much sex slavery can be subtly (or not so subtly) glamorized by our society. Before going to this discussion, I may have not given much thought to positive portrayals of pimping in the media, but now I will definitely be more attuned, and can understand how deeply flawed and unrealistic they are.

The Big Comfy Couch

Thanksgiving has always been meaningful for me, and not because of the delicious food.

Of course stuffing, mashed potatoes, crescent rolls, and homemade cranberry sauce are great, but I think Thanksgiving would be awesome even without the food most people associate with it. It's the holiday's real theme - being thankful for what you have and the good things in your life - that sets it apart from most other days of the year. Getting Thanksgiving off of school is a great way to get to appreciate things we may not otherwise. A bit of a break from everyday schedules allows people to step back and see great things in life: time with family, a comfortable home, and the importance of good food.

Making plans with relatives for this Thanksgiving got me thinking back to Thanksgivings past and childhood memories of mine. I remembered the days when my cousins and I would sit together watching cartoon movies around the holiday season, which got me thinking about the things I would watch on tv back in the day. One of my favorite shows when I was young was The Big Comfy Couch, a children's show that follows a clown named Loonette and her best friend, a doll named Molly, who often talk and read together on their couch. I recently looked up clips of the show on YouTube and I was surprised at how much I remembered of it. Characters' names, songs, and routine parts of the show all started to come back to me.

I  learned a lot from The Big Comfy Couch as a little kid; seeing videos of the show for the first time in probably ten years reminded me of the ideas it helped instilled in kids like me. Loonette and Molly emphasized being healthy, exercising, playing fairly with friends, and tidying up after you're done playing. And the show was funny, too. The characters' ridiculous clown outfits and at times nonsensical behavior made The Big Comfy Couch fun for me to watch, while picking up life lessons at the same time. Reliving one of my favorite childhood shows underlined what I am thankful for: those who have taught me important things, a happy life growing up, and what has helped me grow into the person I am today.

Here is a video of the show's introductory song:

I Wish I Had a Time Machine

With a quarter of senior year completed and college application deadlines looming, it's crunch time for many members of the class of 2013. I am in the process of finalizing the list of schools I will be applying to, and a big part of narrowing down the list for me is visiting colleges to see if I like what they have to offer. In a couple weeks, once I am done taking two SAT II's (Hallelujah!), I will fly out to Virginia to meet my dad and visit the University of Virginia, Swarthmore College, and UPenn. I have already visited the University of Michigan, Cornell University, and Washington University in St. Louis, but visiting a few more schools will help me make sure I'm satisfied with everything on my list.

Throughout this entire process of taking standardized tests, visiting schools, writing college essays, and looking into various scholarships, I have realized that applying to college can be kind of a guessing game for someone like me. Getting a glimpse into the future would come in handy right about now; being able to see where I end up out of the colleges I am applying to would make things much clearer. I would only have to write a couple essays for that one school and then be done!

I envy my peers who already have a sense of where they will go, what scholarships they have received, and what programs (athletics, Greek life, etc.) they can be a part of. I, however, am still unclear on my intentions. Out of the schools I am applying to, I think I would be content and able to thrive at any of them. But unfortunately, simply getting accepted and being happy are not the only things that determine where I, and where many others applying to college, will go. Money matters. As much as we would like to believe that anyone who is worthy, no matter their home situation, can have a shot at making it into a good college, that's not quite the case. Financial background can make a big difference. Being able to apply "Early Decision" (and therefore being bound to that school without knowing how much financial assistance you may or may not receive) gives students a higher chance of getting accepted, having familial connections to a university often makes you a noteworthy applicant, and being able to apply to places without worrying as much about the cost of attendance or transportation opens up a wider variety of schools within reach.

As far as my own future, I will probably go to the school that makes the most sense for my family and me: one that will probably be relatively close to home and cost-effective. And I'm fine with that--going to the least expensive of the places I am applying won't prevent me from getting a great education. I've just got some qualms about the process. Figuring out where I can go and what makes the most sense can be a lot of work and stress. If only I had a time machine so I could see how this will all turn out...

Twenty-Sevens

Twice in my life have I crossed a finish line in over 27 minutes. The first was in 2009. As a twelve-year-old who had never really taken running seriously, I thought the result was decent for a 5k. My mom and I finished around the same time and we were proud of the accomplishment. There was something special about finishing my first distance race, and with my mom in Memorial Stadium, no less. From that point on, I had a different outlook about running. Though I was satisfied with my finish in the 5k, I became determined to improve in a way that was much more intense and competitive than my previous attitude about running.

The following year, my freshman year in high school, I used fitness classes and soccer to focus on getting faster. I used the PE teachers' high standards, along with falling short of a spot on the varsity soccer team, to push myself. "If I can't beat them with fancy footwork, at least I might be able to beat them to the ball," I thought at practices. Putting in work in gym class and on the field made a difference: by the end of the year, I had played in a varsity soccer game, as well as improved by over four minutes in the 5k.

Sophomore year, I joined cross country, which was a level of running competition very different from the fitness classes and soccer games I had been in before. In my first year of cross country running, my goal was to make the varsity team; I surprised myself by being the fourth-fastest girl on the team by the end of the season, and continued to set the bar higher as far as goals I could reach. From sophomore to senior year, I have improved steadily, with consistently better times in cross country races and increased endurance in long workouts.

Then came the second time that I finished a race in over 27 minutes. After recovering from a pulled muscle in my back, I was ready to run at the next meet. It was a good day for running; the weather was chilly when the girls' varsity race began, and the large number of teams at the race made the competition heated. I felt good as I ran, keeping my breathing under control and avoiding slipping on the muddy course. Yet as I finished going around the loop three times, something was definitely wrong. The race should have been over by that point, and I could feel it. My legs started to get tired, but the runners in front of me were still going too. I knew the race would eventually finish on the school's track, but without markings on the course or people to direct us to the finish, I resorted to following the girls ahead of me. We ran another lap and finally ended at the finish line on the track (for me, in a time just under 28 minutes). Instead of the expected three mile race, we ended up running four miles.

The situation was beyond confusing. While some people's results were normal, others' times were slower than usual as a result of the extra lap, which messed up both individuals' and teams' scores. Not to mention the frustration we all had. There was the nagging thought that maybe if the directions to the finish line had been clear, we would have gotten good times (later calculations showed that my pace throughout the four mile race would have been pretty close to my personal best three mile time).

But looking on the bright side, finishing that course in the same time it took me to finish a 5k three years earlier showed how much I had grown as a runner. I owe a lot of that to my teachers and coaches; the amount of effort they expect from runners at every practice makes everyone work harder than they probably would on their own. By being pushed to new levels, I have created tougher goals for myself, which has made training and racing both more challenging and more rewarding as time has gone on. It was bittersweet, finishing a race in 27 minutes for the second time. As much as I wanted as low of a time as possible, seeing the same time at the end of the race as I did in 2009 (except this time for four miles!) helped me realize how I have become the runner I am now.

Senior Citizenship

The day is finally here; my senior portraits are done. I remember the times, not so far in the past, when I envisioned pictures of me in my senior yearbook, ones that would hopefully enshroud my chronically uncomfortable smiles in yearbooks past. I imagined the senior photo shoot as dynamic, allowing for a level of freedom and creativity that a good ol' "say cheese" yearbook mugshot can't convey.

My expectations for the photography session were certainly upheld. A family friend recommended getting the photos taken by BSAWeaver Photography, a business in Decatur managed by Brenda Weaver. After discussing various senior portrait options with Ms. Weaver, we settled on doing a photo shoot at Allerton Park, a beautiful place I had seen a few times but never got a chance to sufficiently explore before this Sunday. I planned out a couple outfits to wear, and that afternoon, I got ready and my mom, brother, and I made the half-hour trek to the park.

"Smile nicely."

"Remember to fix your hair if it's windy."

"Be thankful it isn't raining."

Forced to look out the backseat window by my brother's unexpected call for "shotgun," I thought of all the ways to make this afternoon go swimmingly. At first I regretted not bringing my math and philosophy textbooks to do work during the ride, then I realized in a weekend swarmed with vector equations and Socratic arguments, a few hours away in a tranquil place was just what I needed. The area was totally serene aside from a few families walking their dogs; I doubt I could have chosen a better place to spend the afternoon.

It was a great time. The weather was warm, Ms.Weaver was more than friendly and accommodating, and I think many of the photos turned out nicely. I have yet to see all of the pictures from the session, but a part of me just can't wait to pick one out, crop it to 4 x 4 inches, and submit it to the yearbook. There is definitely a sense of pride in making it through many years of school (and mediocre school pictures) and finally being able to choose your favorite way to represent yourself in your senior portrait.

I'm getting a bit nostalgic, thinking about all that I have learned in life up to this point and the uncertainty of what lies in the future. Having my senior pictures taken was bittersweet--it marks a time in my life full of change and more responsibilities--and yet entirely enjoyable. I had so much fun at Allerton Park during the session that I didn't even notice when two hours passed and it was time to hop back in the car (this time in  the front seat), head home, and finish my remaining work.

In short, the senior portrait serves as a guidepost of growing up, and should be memorable. For those who read this and have not yet had the privilege of taking a senior picture, please remember to enjoy it. No matter how many other things there are to do, temporarily forget about them for your senior portrait; you will look happier and be able to realize the significance of being in a nice place taking the picture that will be next to your name in your last high school yearbook. For those who may have already had a senior picture, I hope this post brings back good memories and can remind us all to enjoy such little things in life--4 x 4 inches, to be exact.

Comfort Within Chaos

I collided with a brick wall of heat. My eyes squinted, trying to separate the hazy shapes of the few trees plotted around the backyard. My whole body felt toasted and sticky, like the baked butternut squash left in the fridge from our family barbeque a few days earlier. Easing my way down the porch steps, I straightened my back, breathed a deep sigh, then started running. The lifelessness outside exaggerated everything I sensed; the glare of the sun, the blast of passing pickups’ exhaust fumes, and the harsh noise of gravel crunching underfoot seemed worse than ever.

I don’t hate summer. I love lying on a hammock midday, blasting upbeat music over the hum of the air conditioner, and refueling myself with a slice of watermelon and a cannonball into the pool. But my motivation, like everyone else I know, enjoys traveling over the summer, and rarely pays me a visit.

Maybe I have so little motivation during the summer because then my days rarely have any structure. Unless, of course, waking up anytime between ten and one, eating my first meal around three in the afternoon (“I’ll have an order of Whatever’s on the Top Shelf of the Freezer”), and spending much of the rest of the day re-watching episodes of House Hunters International is structure. But during the school year, life is hectic. By August 20, sleeping in becomes impossible, deadlines are unavoidable, and retaining information is vital. In many ways, having so much to do is what compels me to finish everything, and to try to do it well. The fear of falling behind, along with the seasonal attractiveness of going to bed relatively early, is what pushes me to get things done.

What I'm trying to emphasize is that despite the increased work load and busyness during the school year, I need the stress to motivate me. I am often more productive when it comes to doing my homework during sport seasons (as opposed to during the off-season), so perhaps the more things I need to do in a shorter amount of time, the harder I work to get it done. I will use this blog to discuss life for me throughout the school year, and how many of the most high-pressure, challenging situations one can encounter show what we are truly capable of accomplishing.