Blogs

Hi, my name is Aliza.  I didn’t get a chance to go around to these sites until this morning, and all of the inside spaces were locked or occupied, but I can imagine how I would feel in them.  Here is my ranking:

1. Morris Woods
2. The campus center parking lot
3. Room 20, Park Science Building

I found this one very hard to do. I thought it was because of the situation: I was very tired on Thursday night, had to do both the walk and the paper then, because completely booked up on Friday. Thursday had been full too, things got done, connections got made, but leaving me feeling used up and decidedly un-Thoreauvian. I felt, grumpily, that a walk under the duress of producing a peper from its ruminations could not possibly be an authentically Thoreauvian one. Once I'd written the paper I realized there were underlying emotional reasons too, which I'd been keeping well buried, and which the writing of the paper revealed to me. I think-- and hope-- that maybe this is exactly what Anne's teaching methods are trying to help us do. To discover, by writing, what we think-- AND what we feel.

I am fourteen and riding my bike back from the grocery store with a pack of colored sharpies and paperclips that I need for a science project.  It’s light out, sunset at least an hour away, as I pedal down my neighborhood’s sidewalks.  I pass neatly trimmed lawns that look identical, making the ride feel like an endless outdoor hall of mirrors, reflecting the same brick, two-story, white-trimmed house over and over.  Despite my initial anger that my parents wouldn’t be able to give me a ride to the store because of their presence at my older brother’s awards ceremony, I’m enjoying riding my bike, the translucent grocery bag on my left handlebar shuddering and flapping in the wind, my pale skin exposed to the waning sunlight of this May afternoon.  The grocery store is only a mile from my house, and I am nearing the end of my ride. 

Now as I think of my “Thoreauvian walk”, it was nothing like the real walk that Thoreau refers to in his essay. Actually I find it impossible for me to walk like Thoreau, to leave behind all social affairs, to say goodbye to my family and just go on for an aimless walk. Perhaps it is because we are born into a life of busyness. Since we were young we have been learning by imitating other people: we learn how to walk, how to talk or to sing all by simulating adults. It is not surprising that we also learn from them the way people keep themselves busy. We hardly ever slow the pace of life to the level of sauntering. Even when I walk just to relax, I cannot keep my mind from thinking (about the past or the future or just anything in my life). No, perhaps it is just me who has not been able to truly immerse my soul in nature, to forget everything else but the surrounding scenery. As I read about the art of sauntering, I read this quotes from John Burroughs: “To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter... to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life. ” I admire the way John admires and treasures elements of nature. It feels as if John and Thoreau can really feel and live the way nature lives and exists. When we are able to “find the universal enough” or “find the air and the water exhilarating” – we become true saunterers.

I decided to write about the first situation that came to mind when the prompt was given to us. During my senior year of high school, the superintendent, Dr. Carol R. Johnson, and the rest of the Boston Public School (BPS) committee “proposed” that the best way to deal with “underperforming schools” was to simply close them down; my high school being one of the seventeen on their list. Their reasoning behind this decision or proposal was based on our MCAS scores (Massachusetts standardized tests). The main problem (and reason why I put the phrase underperforming schools in quotations) with their reasoning was that not only were the scores of a lot of these schools increasing every year, but that most, if not all, of these schools on the list were lacking the resources to even prepare their students for these tests. A lot of these schools were overpopulated and economically struggling.

When I see this picture of a raindrop about to fall off the tip of this leaf, I can only imagine how quiet it will be in comparison to all the other sounds of nature surrounding it.  There’s something so peaceful about this picture that makes it hard to remember that if we had the ability to zoom out and look beyond that particular leaf, as well as tune into our other senses, we might even forget the other sounds we would hear such as the rustling of leaves and the deafening sound of cicadas. Maybe it’s the focus of the camera on this leaf that makes it hard to think about what else is surrounding it. I imagine this leaf being in the woods, and thinking back on moments of when I was silenced, the woods probably would’ve been a good place to get away from it all.

It’s ironic that the first topic I thought of when considering whether I’d ever felt silenced was a topic I’ve silenced myself from sharing on this blog. When Anne spoke to our class about the use of the blog, she said she hoped that by the end of the class we could each take responsibility for our words and use our given names in our blog posts. My silencing is less about taking responsibility for my words, and more about how willing I am to open myself up to others. And though my own name is slightly obscured on this blog, my posts all show up in a search of my full name on Google. For me, that’s terrifying.

What I’ve come to learn about interactions on the Internet is that nothing goes away.  Last year, I wrote a post about the MTV debate that was occurring here at Bryn Mawr. Recently, I searched “MTV” and “napkin notes” on Google to see what came up and was surprised to find a blog citing my post from someone at the University of Texas. That’s not a problem – it’s exciting to realize that perfect strangers can be interested by what I have to say. In addition, because I still stand by what I said in those posts, I’m fine with them being associated with me.

In class Thursday I was particularly haunted with the picture above, JHunter's visualization of silence. While my interpretation of “Bouquet of Eyes” varies from hers, I am grateful for the push towards looking differently at a subject that I thought I had adequately explored. It is this new interpretation that I will use now to speak toward my own experience with being silenced at my summer job.

This summer I had the misfortune of learning that silence can sometimes be a group phenomenon, and it is in these particular instances when the absence of voice can be the most dangerous. From June to August I worked at an overnight camp for underprivileged youth, like I have for the past three summers. The counselors range in age from 17-21, not much older than the children we watch over. It is difficult for me to talk about what happened this summer in a composed way, because the happiness and welfare of the campers was and still is my utmost concern and to see that threatened was infuriating.

This American Life: Act V

To give a little background, This American Life is a PRI radio show where each episode is dedicated to a theme that reflects, well, American life.  The link above leads you to an episode called Act V and is without doubt one of my favorites.  Succinctly put, it follows a group of men in prison who are putting on the fifth act of Hamlet.  Hope you enjoy.

When I was doing Thoreauvian Walk, I sensed the rhythm of nature by listening to the cicadas' songs and capturing the wind that flowed between my fingers. I felt so peaceful and free, but I also felt that my mind was going blank--it wasn't as amazing as I had imagined.

Then, I decided to walk as usual. I walked from place to place with a destination in mind, and I also enjoyed myself. As for me, I feel I am energetic no matter I walk in which style.

Walking as a freeman was a whole new experience to me, and although I wasn't used to it, the shadow of freedom surrounded me. Walking as a normal person, on the other hand, allowed me to discover the beauty of daily routine.