I got some alleviation getting the Graduate Record Exam (GRE) out of the way last week. The test is basically a computerized version of the SAT with an analytic writing section tacked on. You have 45 minutes to take a side on a controversial issue and support it using the breadth of knowledge you've supposedly gained over the course of your undergraduate career. Then you have 30 minutes to rip apart a fallacious argument in a concise essay. The quantitative and verbal sections are virtually identical to the SAT, you know, with analogies, complete the sentence, antonyms, reading comprehension for verbal and choice A, B, they are equal, or it cannot be determined from the given information. The only catch is that the test is computer adaptive, which means if you're doing well answering questions correctly, then the questions will get progressively more difficult. If you are choking, botching, flailing, then the questions get easier. So the test can psych you out. Oh no, these questions seem easy, did I fuck up before?!
Fact is, the test is done now. I drove 90 minutes to get there, went in prepared, practiced, and confident, endured 3+ grueling hours in front of the computer screen, tolerated the greasy keyboard and fidgety mouse, and got it done. And thankfully, my scores are competitive enough so that I never have to take it again.
So onward with graduate application process!
I'm having trouble showing that I want to be admitted. My joy and drive comes from acceptance. Once I'm in, I am so your man. You can count on me. The fear of rejection dampens my desire to give it my all on these applications. Every day I ask "why does everything have to be so damn competitive?" If someone is smart and reliable, why can't they go to school any place they want? The accepted ones are the people who know exactly what the admission officers want to hear. Funny thing is, I know what they want to hear, and for that reason I don't really wanna give it to 'em.
I'm also having trouble finding a third recommender. That's what I get for not going in for extra help and not going out for a coffee or whatever with professors at Gettysburg. None of them knew me that well and for the most part, I liked it that way. Three hours a week (6 hrs if you count labs) was enough professor time for me.
It's troublesome narrowing my interests down to the scale of one professor's research. It's like I have to pretend I like something before I try it. How can I know if I haven't done it, dude?
I'm a big whiner about all this. And I'll just have to deal.
In the last week, I had the privilege of meeting a few new groups of a few new people. The first was a party up in North Jersey in a town called Clark (ironically a GRE testing site, but I chose Toms River in South Jersey instead). There was no booze at this party. The party host was a chemist who develops new mascaras for L'Oreal. And there were others at the party, too, but I never got to talking with them. They were just plain. Plain in personality, plain in looks. Maybe a notch below plain in looks. But these folks were the remarkable young survivors from a competitive, expensive, populous part of New Jersey. They all seemed intellectually sound, and if they weren't intellectually sound, then they made up for it in professional grit. Maybe they were just fried from the tough work week. Anyway, the plain people opened a game that was a hybrid of taboo and cranium, played it for a blink, then I was driving home down the Jersey Turnpike. That was the first group.
The second group was just two girls, really. Rob met them a month ago at Clyde's martini bar in New Brunswick and at the end of that night they plugged it into their phones to meet again in exactly one month. In true Rob fashion, Rob kept to his word, and by by golly them gals did, too. On Friday night when Rob got off work, we met up and found the girls taking drags outside Clyde's. I never caught their ages, but I suspect one was older than us and the other was younger. These girls had a head start on Rob and I boozewise and it showed. They yapped complete nonsense for about 15 minutes before the older one declared that I wasn't having a good time, so she ordered me a 9 dollar "cruzan for a bruisin". I told them politely that I couldn't participate in their talk because it was so jumpy and random and unfocused. The younger one insisted on speaking with an annoying artificial english accent all night and used her word of the week "incognito" about twenty times. The older one wore a shiny engagement ring and discussed a honeymoon plan to go on a cruise around Greece in about a year. This was right after she fanned out her winnings from a successful gambling trip to Connecticut. At some point in the evening, I learned that both girls had gone to Middlesex Community College and both held some kind of accounting job. This was the second group.
The third group was made up of many with an affection for nature. We gathered for a hike in Palisades park along the Hudson River. The group, in addition to two former fellow AmeriCorps members, had a three very normal guys and two interesting girls. I had a sweet day with them. The guys were gregarious and excited about professional sports. They talked up the New Jersey Devils hockey team. Maybe I'll go to a game with them someday soon. One of them was a lawyer who told me some interesting things, which I won't go into, about the US government that make me feel both very safe and very paranoid. The guys also talked enthusiastically about their environmental jobs while also showing curiosity about other people's jobs. They also admitted how great it was going on the hike and meeting new people like us. The lawyer even confessed at the end of the day that he would rather have us drink his beer than the mooches that do it now. As for the girls, one was the mosquito control superintendent for Essex County, NJ and the other had moved from California to do some environmental thing in the city. The mosquito woman was well-versed and a pleasure to walk with. The other was also a pleasure, except it saddened me when she said she hates where she lives in Brooklyn and hates her job. Bottom line here though is that this was the best group, by far. And to cap off the day we all gazed south, and we all reveled in the Manhattan skyline that was aesthetically silhouetted by the amazing glow of orange stratus clouds.
Now, I would like to judge the groups based solely on the quality of the people in them, but I cannot ignore some of the glaring external factors. The first group was the shortest meeting, at a house, boozefree, and at night. The second group was medium length, at a bar, boozy, and also at night. The third group was for a good several hours, outside, sober, and during the day. So I'm thinking that maybe I just prefer more time, the outdoors, the sobriety, and the daytime over the other settings. If the people from the third group were placed in the first two settings, I genuinely don't think I would've liked them quite as much.
My point is: maybe it's the setting of our hangouts that make for really good times. Perhaps the setting deserves just as much attention as the people when determining what sort of gatherings are best. Granted the first group was plain as hell and the second group was not very stimulating to me, but now I wanna go for an all-day hike in the Palisades with both of them and see if I still have the same opinions about them by sunset. But then there's the argument that certain types of people will only put themselves in certain situations and a Palisades hike might not be one of them. The plain folks and bar ladies might not do hikes. So maybe it's the person who chooses their preferred setting, making the qualities of the person the determining factor after all.
These anecdotes about hanging out with new groups of people are not things to be called fallacious arguments, but the analysis at the end sure feels similar to that GRE analytical writing section.
Cheers,
Andy
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The Dawn of Obama
President Barack Obama. Say it a few times. Lord, how did this happen? (I say this with a grin). I don't know the answer, but boy, is this moment beautiful.
Two score years ago, Martin Luther King Jr made his "I have a dream" speech, and on November 4th, 2008 the entire United States of America judged an African-American not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. Last night I cried sweet tears of joy and the tingles on my skin were electric and nothing could stop the swelling of my heart. After such a long spell of dissatisfaction, it feels like America again.
At an AmeriCorps diversity training event in Paterson, NJ earlier this year, a video showing a psychology experiment featuring black children was shared with the group. Two dolls were placed in front of each kid. One black, one white. Then they were asked questions. "Which doll is prettiest?" The majority of the kids picked the white doll. "Which doll is the bad doll?" The majority picked the black doll. Finally the kids were asked "which doll do you look like?"
Here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybDa0gSuAcg&feature=related
It warms the soul to theorize that by having Obama hold the most powerful office on the planet, the results of future replications of this experiment will change.
Election day was surreal. My mother and I drove over to the Princeton Junction Fire House to cast our ballots around 10:30am yesterday. On the drive to the polling station, I could feel the weight of the moment. Inside the fire house the old lady at the sign-in table said I looked a bit like a boy who'd been in just a bit earlier. When she flipped to Andrew White, I saw that my brother Dan, who had turned 18 in October,had escaped from the confines of his high school and already voted. My father Larry had voted before he sputtered off to work in his '95 Honda Civic. After I signed next to their names, the old lady gave me my ticket, then I gave it to the poll man, and went through the curtains. After I moved the X into the Obama Biden rectangle, I stared at it for a few seconds, smiled like mad, and punched the CAST VOTE button. And when the curtains opened I was still smiling. I smiled right on out the door and met with my mother soon after. In the evening, my sister called to say she had driven in rush hour, back to her old apartment, all the way back to Clinton, NJ where she was registered, just so she could vote. This is the first time everyone in my family was old enough to vote. And I got some real feelings of family pride on this Election Day.
A corollary to this notion of family pride includes my late grandfather, Grandpa White. He lived in Indiana, a steadfast Republican stronghold, all his life, but always always voted democrat. An image of my Grandpa White sitting on a lone blue throne in a vast red field is forever carved out in my mind. The image is even crisper considering he spent his last years sitting in a fluffy blue easy chair. Anyway, nobody could have ever expected such a conservative state to turn blue, especially not in this election--but it did. And today my Grandpa is proudly smiling down on us from heaven.
At 7pm, my mother burst out of her TV den to announce that the networks had already projected Vermont to go for Obama and Kentucky to go for McCain. From that point on, the excitement of the night never let up. I nuzzled with my mommy for about an hour as the results from a few more states filtered in. By 9pm, five friends had made it to my house to watch the election outcome on my father's prized HD tv. We joked, drank beer, and watched as 150,000 people began gathering in Chicago's Grant Park, the same site as the Lollapalooza music festival which I had attended in August exactly three months prior. When the networks called Pennsylvania for Obama, it was special. When the networks called Ohio for Obama, it was over. Well, essentially over. We had to wait one more hour for the polls to close in California before they could officially project Obama as President-Elect. I was foolishly fumbling around with Comedy Central's InDecision 2008 program when Rob's phone rang. He answered it, turned his head, grinned, and said, "He won." I quickly flipped to CNN, and behold, in bold, white, highly defined letters, it said BARACK OBAMA ELECTED PRESIDENT.
Obama addressed McCain's supporters:
"As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, "We are not enemies, but friends…though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection." And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too."
Then he assured all that we had made the right choice:
"And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world – our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down – we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security – we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope."
"And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world – our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down – we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security – we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope."
So there we were, six subtwenty-five-year-old people, sensing the historical greatness, soaking up the moment, and peering into the future, all at once. A fruit fly researcher slightly offended by GOP VP candidate Palin's belittling remarks about science. A scholar geared to be an English professor. An insightful sociological thinker aiming for a Master's. A middle music teacher aspiring to be a choral conductor. A decision science guru receiving a job offer with internet juggernaut, Facebook, a medium so instrumental in this campaign. And finally, myself, a future environmental scientist riding the wave of the green movement. Amidst all the swirling energy of the moment, we made a toast to change as I let the melodious song of hope wash me away.
Cheers,
Andy
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Everyone is a pretender
You know, when I was a wee lad (and then later a not-as-wee bloke) I thought the world and everything in it was a just a large swirl of chaos and confusion that was completely incomprehensible. And all the people I met seemed to know what they were talking about. When it came to judging people's competence, I naively gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. I genuinely believed that I was the one behind and pretty much everyone else somehow had a leg up on me. This false assumption that I was out of the loop and uneducated and therefore unintelligible about many of the worlds problems drove me to work very hard, maybe even too hard, in high school. I had nearly flawless grades, knew quite well what was going on in my classes, and this achievement gave me a little foundation of power and confidence. But still, I almost always felt like a novice in every intellectual conversation, and this often led me to silence.
Only now am I realizing that everyone is a novice, all fakers. To some extent, everyone is a pretender. We are all human and a human can only read and remember so much. The fact that we all share this intrinsic human handicap means that none of us are the all-confidant all-knowing all-powerful individuals we make ourselves out to be and, in this cruel competitive world, need to make ourselves out to be. It's amazing how someone can spit out all three things he/she knows about a topic and how the listener's perception of that person will then swell up to be much much bigger than that person's actual size. There are a few professor-like people who really are as smart and bright-witted as they make themselves out to be, but it's undoubtedly a rare thing. So, when you're out and about chatting, and you're feeling maybe slightly outclassed, remember that people are pretenders. We all have fears about our abilities and pride issues, so we do our best to gloss them over by talking about the few things we do know. When someone's getting high on a topic, think is this rhetoric substantive? or just a blaze of verbal confidance? More often than not, when you scrape off the ego facade, we're all vulnerable. We're all the same: pretenders.
Once you're out of college, there is this glorious welcoming party to the working world. Fact is, I don't know much about how it all works. Seems like it's networking that gets you a nice job, and it's not as much the result of hard honest work. This is troubling, but it's the truth.
What constitutes a nice job? The theory is that there are three integral things you can have at job, and you need at least two of them to be satisfied. They are: 1) liking the job itself, 2) liking the people at the job, 3) liking the pay from the job. Most people right out of college are not going to get thing number 3. That leaves you with liking the job and the people at it. It's mad crazy hard to find an authentic job with both of those. Which leads me to my next thought...
Working in America, are we truly free? Seems like the majority of americans work long hours. And only if you're lucky, you're getting paid what you deserve. The number of vacation days available is often slim, not enough. It's rare that you love your job itself. You've only convinced yourself that it's alright and you've adapted as was necessary. And you need this job to stay afloat, pay all the bills, send a child to college, etc. I don't know. To me, it sounds like most people aren't free, as in they have very limited power or control over their circumstances. Sounds more like wage slavery than freedom. I just may be an actual cynical bastard.
As I pick out a graduate school, people claim the location of the institution is a very important factor to consider while making my choice. I agree. But, only because of the close proximity with my family. Everything is so much easier when the drive home is a mere few hours, rather than a 3-day road trek or a cross-country flight. Calling the place important because of the deemed potential quality of the place is incorrect. I love the saying "there are no boring places, just boring people." No matter where you go there are always new things to do and new people to meet (unless you're in a sparsely populated zone like Wyoming). Your ability to enjoy a place is contingent on the quality of those people you meet. And at a top notch school in the academic arena, it is inevitable to be surrounded by interesting, enthusiastic, creative minds.
One more thought. I feel like I'm more clear-headed and intelligible when I eat less. This hypothesis has been corroborated many times over the last few weeks. The only explanation I think of is that if less food is in the stomach, then less blood is required by the stomach, leaving more oxygen rich blood for the brain. The other idea is the long established concept of fasting, reputably providing ascetics with amazing moments of clarity. Eat less, think more.
The clocks fall back in a week, condemning us to darkness in the cold months ahead. So let us enjoy this pretty autumn days while they last! Go outside! Jump in a leaf pile!
Cheers,
Andy
Only now am I realizing that everyone is a novice, all fakers. To some extent, everyone is a pretender. We are all human and a human can only read and remember so much. The fact that we all share this intrinsic human handicap means that none of us are the all-confidant all-knowing all-powerful individuals we make ourselves out to be and, in this cruel competitive world, need to make ourselves out to be. It's amazing how someone can spit out all three things he/she knows about a topic and how the listener's perception of that person will then swell up to be much much bigger than that person's actual size. There are a few professor-like people who really are as smart and bright-witted as they make themselves out to be, but it's undoubtedly a rare thing. So, when you're out and about chatting, and you're feeling maybe slightly outclassed, remember that people are pretenders. We all have fears about our abilities and pride issues, so we do our best to gloss them over by talking about the few things we do know. When someone's getting high on a topic, think is this rhetoric substantive? or just a blaze of verbal confidance? More often than not, when you scrape off the ego facade, we're all vulnerable. We're all the same: pretenders.
Once you're out of college, there is this glorious welcoming party to the working world. Fact is, I don't know much about how it all works. Seems like it's networking that gets you a nice job, and it's not as much the result of hard honest work. This is troubling, but it's the truth.
What constitutes a nice job? The theory is that there are three integral things you can have at job, and you need at least two of them to be satisfied. They are: 1) liking the job itself, 2) liking the people at the job, 3) liking the pay from the job. Most people right out of college are not going to get thing number 3. That leaves you with liking the job and the people at it. It's mad crazy hard to find an authentic job with both of those. Which leads me to my next thought...
Working in America, are we truly free? Seems like the majority of americans work long hours. And only if you're lucky, you're getting paid what you deserve. The number of vacation days available is often slim, not enough. It's rare that you love your job itself. You've only convinced yourself that it's alright and you've adapted as was necessary. And you need this job to stay afloat, pay all the bills, send a child to college, etc. I don't know. To me, it sounds like most people aren't free, as in they have very limited power or control over their circumstances. Sounds more like wage slavery than freedom. I just may be an actual cynical bastard.
As I pick out a graduate school, people claim the location of the institution is a very important factor to consider while making my choice. I agree. But, only because of the close proximity with my family. Everything is so much easier when the drive home is a mere few hours, rather than a 3-day road trek or a cross-country flight. Calling the place important because of the deemed potential quality of the place is incorrect. I love the saying "there are no boring places, just boring people." No matter where you go there are always new things to do and new people to meet (unless you're in a sparsely populated zone like Wyoming). Your ability to enjoy a place is contingent on the quality of those people you meet. And at a top notch school in the academic arena, it is inevitable to be surrounded by interesting, enthusiastic, creative minds.
One more thought. I feel like I'm more clear-headed and intelligible when I eat less. This hypothesis has been corroborated many times over the last few weeks. The only explanation I think of is that if less food is in the stomach, then less blood is required by the stomach, leaving more oxygen rich blood for the brain. The other idea is the long established concept of fasting, reputably providing ascetics with amazing moments of clarity. Eat less, think more.
The clocks fall back in a week, condemning us to darkness in the cold months ahead. So let us enjoy this pretty autumn days while they last! Go outside! Jump in a leaf pile!
Cheers,
Andy
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Rewarding Eloquence and Etiquette
I've realized that, at this point, three months after the fact, the excitement surrounding my June/July Guatemala service trip has all but dwindled. When I had just returned, I was keen to quickly make an online photo album. Those in-the-moment pictures and captions capture the eye-widening experience better than any words I could say here. So here they are, the links to my photo albums from my Guatemala service trip with the First Presbyterian Church of Cranbury:
http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2037843&l=2e532&id=19300423
http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2037850&l=79ab9&id=19300423
As of late, I've been slothful to say the least. Fantasy football matches and fantastic presidential election gossip have been baneful to my productivity. I've learned that I am a polar person (not a soon-to-be-extinct bear). I either do a lot of stuff or I do nada. When I was enlisted in AmeriCorps I was busy all the time, but still found extra time to do more. Now, even the mundane tasks of the day don't get accomplished. I sleep in late, read the newspaper, cook a breakfast, brew a coffee, browse a internet, eat a dinner, watch a Daily Show, then go to bed. It's hard to sleep at night knowing you've wasted a blessed day of your glaringly finite life.
I believe the saying: the more you do, the more you can do. And the similar saying: If you want something done, give it to a busy person. It seems counterintuitive at first, but it's the truth. So, in order to combat my passive sloth approach, I am assigning myself routine activities. One is writing in this blog often. Another is walking with my mom in the neighborhood each morning. Another is cooking dinner for my family once a week. Another is exercising regularly. But let's get to the real task at hand here:
Applying to Environmental Studies Graduate Programs in the United States, matriculating in Fall 2009.
This process is a lot like applying for jobs (of which there are few to be had right now). You want to sell yourself. It's like you have to earn a self-marketing degree before you are eligible to apply for a position. It's not about what great work you've done or what great skills you have--it's how you present those things to the employer or the admission officer. What if marketing & sales is not your forte? Sorry. You're fucked, dude.
What do you need to sell yourself? Effective writing, speaking, and communications skills, that's what. When your high school english teacher said his/her course was the single most important course you'd ever take, they weren't lying. Why do you think Gettysburg College made me take English 101 my first semester? It wasn't just because I botched the verbal part of the SAT. It was because they knew it was the linchpin for our future, no matter what field of study or career we would decide to pursue.
Speaking is a whole other animal. Unless you took a speech class, how did you learn to speak? It was probably through the regular discourse of your life, whether it was telling ghost stories to your buds around a campfire or smooth-talkin' your honey on the other end of the line. Generally, they don't formally teach the subject of "talking". In fact, you get reprimanded if you're talking in class. The acceptable behavior in school is to go zip-lipped. And nobody ever taught me about body language and etiquette. I pick my nose. I stroke my wannabe-goatee. I don't stare people in the eyes for too long. I don't prefer button-down shirts or bowties. My hair is rarely nice, kempt, or even there at all.
In our society, the job search and graduate school application processes blatantly favor those with 1) good looks, 2) nice clothes, 3) a pleasant voice, 4) eloquence, 5) graceful manners, 6) effective writing skills. It seems that shining up my shoes and plucking my eyebrows and whitening my teeth are the best steps I can take to further my career. Some people are born ugly. And some just aren't wired to speak clearly and fluidly, but excel in other areas of intellect. There have been studies done showing that people with dyslexia often have an easier time analyzing multiple variables at once and tackling abstract spatial problems than people without dyslexia.
We are breeding our work force to mold to a certain set of character traits. We reward charm and people skills more than we reward hard work and substance. By excluding the eccentrics, the overall potential of our work force is considerably reduced. Change and innovation seems to come from the soft-spoken wacko, not from the prom king or mister best personality.
I understand why we reward eloquence and etiquette the way we do, but I do not like it. I think it's a shallow way to assess a person's level of qualification. Alas, but we have no choice if we want to get accepted or employed--we must play the game, and play it well. I'll always be a rebel, but I'm old enough and smart enough to know that "the game" is the only way you can make it in this sad world.
"Life is a game, boy. Life is a game that one plays according to the rules."
-The Catcher in the Rye
Yours truly,
Andy
http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2037843&l=2e532&id=19300423
http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2037850&l=79ab9&id=19300423
As of late, I've been slothful to say the least. Fantasy football matches and fantastic presidential election gossip have been baneful to my productivity. I've learned that I am a polar person (not a soon-to-be-extinct bear). I either do a lot of stuff or I do nada. When I was enlisted in AmeriCorps I was busy all the time, but still found extra time to do more. Now, even the mundane tasks of the day don't get accomplished. I sleep in late, read the newspaper, cook a breakfast, brew a coffee, browse a internet, eat a dinner, watch a Daily Show, then go to bed. It's hard to sleep at night knowing you've wasted a blessed day of your glaringly finite life.
I believe the saying: the more you do, the more you can do. And the similar saying: If you want something done, give it to a busy person. It seems counterintuitive at first, but it's the truth. So, in order to combat my passive sloth approach, I am assigning myself routine activities. One is writing in this blog often. Another is walking with my mom in the neighborhood each morning. Another is cooking dinner for my family once a week. Another is exercising regularly. But let's get to the real task at hand here:
Applying to Environmental Studies Graduate Programs in the United States, matriculating in Fall 2009.
This process is a lot like applying for jobs (of which there are few to be had right now). You want to sell yourself. It's like you have to earn a self-marketing degree before you are eligible to apply for a position. It's not about what great work you've done or what great skills you have--it's how you present those things to the employer or the admission officer. What if marketing & sales is not your forte? Sorry. You're fucked, dude.
What do you need to sell yourself? Effective writing, speaking, and communications skills, that's what. When your high school english teacher said his/her course was the single most important course you'd ever take, they weren't lying. Why do you think Gettysburg College made me take English 101 my first semester? It wasn't just because I botched the verbal part of the SAT. It was because they knew it was the linchpin for our future, no matter what field of study or career we would decide to pursue.
Speaking is a whole other animal. Unless you took a speech class, how did you learn to speak? It was probably through the regular discourse of your life, whether it was telling ghost stories to your buds around a campfire or smooth-talkin' your honey on the other end of the line. Generally, they don't formally teach the subject of "talking". In fact, you get reprimanded if you're talking in class. The acceptable behavior in school is to go zip-lipped. And nobody ever taught me about body language and etiquette. I pick my nose. I stroke my wannabe-goatee. I don't stare people in the eyes for too long. I don't prefer button-down shirts or bowties. My hair is rarely nice, kempt, or even there at all.
In our society, the job search and graduate school application processes blatantly favor those with 1) good looks, 2) nice clothes, 3) a pleasant voice, 4) eloquence, 5) graceful manners, 6) effective writing skills. It seems that shining up my shoes and plucking my eyebrows and whitening my teeth are the best steps I can take to further my career. Some people are born ugly. And some just aren't wired to speak clearly and fluidly, but excel in other areas of intellect. There have been studies done showing that people with dyslexia often have an easier time analyzing multiple variables at once and tackling abstract spatial problems than people without dyslexia.
We are breeding our work force to mold to a certain set of character traits. We reward charm and people skills more than we reward hard work and substance. By excluding the eccentrics, the overall potential of our work force is considerably reduced. Change and innovation seems to come from the soft-spoken wacko, not from the prom king or mister best personality.
I understand why we reward eloquence and etiquette the way we do, but I do not like it. I think it's a shallow way to assess a person's level of qualification. Alas, but we have no choice if we want to get accepted or employed--we must play the game, and play it well. I'll always be a rebel, but I'm old enough and smart enough to know that "the game" is the only way you can make it in this sad world.
"Life is a game, boy. Life is a game that one plays according to the rules."
-The Catcher in the Rye
Yours truly,
Andy
Friday, September 5, 2008
Obama, Paradoxical Lessons, and Football!
Still holding off on the Guatemala entry. It was two-and-a-half months ago, so the passionate afterglow that goes along with it has retreated a bit. But I'll conjure my thoughts up again soon enough.
After the national conventions of the two political major parties, I really don't have anything very new or original to say. Fact is, Obama has always taken the high road, advocating his ideas never stooping to smear his opponent. His campaign has been tight, efficient, and well-run with a clear, unwavering message of needed change in Washington. His Veep pick in Biden was a very good one, probably the best available choice he had. And most of all, he has that natural-born ability to inspire. He takes us to that other place every time he speaks, hopeful and magical. And his use of Springsteen's "The Rising" as a campaign song sure don't hurt his chances in my mind.
We had a training for AmeriCorps at Sedge Island near Island Beach State Park at the Jersey Shore back in May. There, before Obama had even won the democratic nomination from Hillary, I made a surprise announcement on the beachfront before my Corpsmates declaring Obama would be our next president. I hope my foresight is right. I will say here that it is 99.9% certain Obama will win all the same states Kerry won in '04. He is also currently leading the polls in Iowa (where he won the caucuses over Hillary in January), New Mexico (where they got SuperDem Bill Richardson), and Colorado (the Democratic National Convention was in Denver), which puts him over the 270 electoral threshold. At minimum, those are the only states he needs to snatch up in order to clinch the presidency. Obama don't need no Ohio, Florida, or Virginny to win it (Florida is leaning Republican while Ohio and Virginia are virtually tied) but McCain definitely does. Obama might also turn Nevada and Montana blue. So, unless Obama seriously Obotches the debates, he's won this thing--it's his election to lose in November.
I found a handout from an AmeriCorps "Disaster Preparedness" training when I was sifting through my old materials from my recently completed program. The training seemed pretty useless at the time, telling us about crisis management and how to come to together when Katrina-style catastrophes strike. This handout, though, has some simple lessons that you can bridge over to your approach to life. Take from it what you will, but it sure gave be some ying-yang feelings. Here are the lessons:
1. Be Prepared.
2. You will never be completely prepared.
3. Accept chaos.
4. Emphasize order and structure.
5. People can behave at their worst during a crisis.
6. Crisis can bring out the best in people.
7. Expect that people are resilient, will recover, and a sense of normalcy will be restored.
8. Expect that nothing will ever be quite the same again after a significant crisis.
9. Good judgement is the product of experience.
10. Experience is the product of mistakes.
Ah yes, football season is here. After a seven month drought, I have the comfort of knowing there will never be a Sunday without football until the last weekend of January, the weekend before the Big Game. Football is powerful stuff. And not just because the players are beastly. When the favorite team of a devoted fan succeeds, especially after a longwinded winless streak, it brings the fan long-awaited glory-filled feelings of jubilation. It's almost religious. In fact, you could make the argument that the Church of Football has, in essence, replaced the Church of God on American Sundays. Instead of cheering for the Lord in the sanctuary, we're cheering for our Herculean gridiron heroes on the couch.
At Rutgers University in NJ it's been reported that the head football coach makes more money than any other university staff member, including the university president. There's mad crazy money in football. They rack in the dough from ticket sales, merch sales, sponsors--they run the gamut. We all know money leads to more funding for better programs, better facilities, better professors, better everything. And it's not just physical things that you buy. A winning football team can instill pride in an institution (or a city if we're talking about the NFL) and bring about a true sense of unity. No matter what race we are, what our income is, or where we grew up, we can all be football fans. It's something common that anybody can latch onto.
I'm thinking about the Saints right now down in New Orleans. The city was evacuated upon the warning of the imminent storm Hurricane Gustav earlier this week. Looking at the footage, the levees barely held and the place is still in shambles from Katrina three years prior. I was down there 21 months ago with a Lutheran group from Gettysburg College and I saw the calamity firsthand. But I also soaked in the N'awlinz spirit through the people I met and the music I heard. The Saints were a shitty football team leading up to the 2005 season, but after Katrina, they seemed to kick it up a notch. They were one game away from the Super Bowl in 2006 (they lost to the Chicago Bears). I genuinely believe the success of the Saints lifted up the hopes of that flood-ridden city in some oblique, intangible way.
Then there's the fantasy football phenomenon. It's a lot like stock-trading. You have a draft at the start of the season where you pick players at each position that you think will perform the best. You get to start or bench your players each week based on their past performance or based on what the matchup looks like for that week or based on what all the analysts are saying. The value of a player rises if he scores 3 TD's. If you think the 3 TD's is just a fluke, then you might want to trade the guy. Trade now while his value is high! Do you pick the old veteran with 10 years experience running on creaky knees OR the new fresh-outta-college hotshot who doesn't quite know the NFL ropes yet? Tough choices all the time. Then there is the moral dilemma of picking fantasy players from teams you don't much like. Doing that would force you to root for a player on a team you despise, just so you can squeak out an unsatisfying victory. I intentionally crippled myself this year, opting for only players I like. Thus, my team is weaker and less likely to win, but funwise it's better this way. Team loyalty trumps bad-tasting triumph. To sum up, fantasy football is a frivolous, addictive, albeit highly recommended activity that allows for practice in morals, hypothesizing, and swindling your friends.
To me, and so many others, football matters. God almighty, it's here at last.
Go Giants!
Andy
After the national conventions of the two political major parties, I really don't have anything very new or original to say. Fact is, Obama has always taken the high road, advocating his ideas never stooping to smear his opponent. His campaign has been tight, efficient, and well-run with a clear, unwavering message of needed change in Washington. His Veep pick in Biden was a very good one, probably the best available choice he had. And most of all, he has that natural-born ability to inspire. He takes us to that other place every time he speaks, hopeful and magical. And his use of Springsteen's "The Rising" as a campaign song sure don't hurt his chances in my mind.
We had a training for AmeriCorps at Sedge Island near Island Beach State Park at the Jersey Shore back in May. There, before Obama had even won the democratic nomination from Hillary, I made a surprise announcement on the beachfront before my Corpsmates declaring Obama would be our next president. I hope my foresight is right. I will say here that it is 99.9% certain Obama will win all the same states Kerry won in '04. He is also currently leading the polls in Iowa (where he won the caucuses over Hillary in January), New Mexico (where they got SuperDem Bill Richardson), and Colorado (the Democratic National Convention was in Denver), which puts him over the 270 electoral threshold. At minimum, those are the only states he needs to snatch up in order to clinch the presidency. Obama don't need no Ohio, Florida, or Virginny to win it (Florida is leaning Republican while Ohio and Virginia are virtually tied) but McCain definitely does. Obama might also turn Nevada and Montana blue. So, unless Obama seriously Obotches the debates, he's won this thing--it's his election to lose in November.
I found a handout from an AmeriCorps "Disaster Preparedness" training when I was sifting through my old materials from my recently completed program. The training seemed pretty useless at the time, telling us about crisis management and how to come to together when Katrina-style catastrophes strike. This handout, though, has some simple lessons that you can bridge over to your approach to life. Take from it what you will, but it sure gave be some ying-yang feelings. Here are the lessons:
1. Be Prepared.
2. You will never be completely prepared.
3. Accept chaos.
4. Emphasize order and structure.
5. People can behave at their worst during a crisis.
6. Crisis can bring out the best in people.
7. Expect that people are resilient, will recover, and a sense of normalcy will be restored.
8. Expect that nothing will ever be quite the same again after a significant crisis.
9. Good judgement is the product of experience.
10. Experience is the product of mistakes.
Ah yes, football season is here. After a seven month drought, I have the comfort of knowing there will never be a Sunday without football until the last weekend of January, the weekend before the Big Game. Football is powerful stuff. And not just because the players are beastly. When the favorite team of a devoted fan succeeds, especially after a longwinded winless streak, it brings the fan long-awaited glory-filled feelings of jubilation. It's almost religious. In fact, you could make the argument that the Church of Football has, in essence, replaced the Church of God on American Sundays. Instead of cheering for the Lord in the sanctuary, we're cheering for our Herculean gridiron heroes on the couch.
At Rutgers University in NJ it's been reported that the head football coach makes more money than any other university staff member, including the university president. There's mad crazy money in football. They rack in the dough from ticket sales, merch sales, sponsors--they run the gamut. We all know money leads to more funding for better programs, better facilities, better professors, better everything. And it's not just physical things that you buy. A winning football team can instill pride in an institution (or a city if we're talking about the NFL) and bring about a true sense of unity. No matter what race we are, what our income is, or where we grew up, we can all be football fans. It's something common that anybody can latch onto.
I'm thinking about the Saints right now down in New Orleans. The city was evacuated upon the warning of the imminent storm Hurricane Gustav earlier this week. Looking at the footage, the levees barely held and the place is still in shambles from Katrina three years prior. I was down there 21 months ago with a Lutheran group from Gettysburg College and I saw the calamity firsthand. But I also soaked in the N'awlinz spirit through the people I met and the music I heard. The Saints were a shitty football team leading up to the 2005 season, but after Katrina, they seemed to kick it up a notch. They were one game away from the Super Bowl in 2006 (they lost to the Chicago Bears). I genuinely believe the success of the Saints lifted up the hopes of that flood-ridden city in some oblique, intangible way.
Then there's the fantasy football phenomenon. It's a lot like stock-trading. You have a draft at the start of the season where you pick players at each position that you think will perform the best. You get to start or bench your players each week based on their past performance or based on what the matchup looks like for that week or based on what all the analysts are saying. The value of a player rises if he scores 3 TD's. If you think the 3 TD's is just a fluke, then you might want to trade the guy. Trade now while his value is high! Do you pick the old veteran with 10 years experience running on creaky knees OR the new fresh-outta-college hotshot who doesn't quite know the NFL ropes yet? Tough choices all the time. Then there is the moral dilemma of picking fantasy players from teams you don't much like. Doing that would force you to root for a player on a team you despise, just so you can squeak out an unsatisfying victory. I intentionally crippled myself this year, opting for only players I like. Thus, my team is weaker and less likely to win, but funwise it's better this way. Team loyalty trumps bad-tasting triumph. To sum up, fantasy football is a frivolous, addictive, albeit highly recommended activity that allows for practice in morals, hypothesizing, and swindling your friends.
To me, and so many others, football matters. God almighty, it's here at last.
Go Giants!
Andy
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Back in the Blogosphere
I realize my two-month summer hiatus. Since I last posted I've been to Guatemala as an amateur dentist with a church group, the Delaware Water Gap for some birthday camping (I turned 23 on July 12th), Cape May for a family beach vacation, Chicago for the Lollapalooza music festival, and Vermont to visit Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory, Green Mountain Coffee Roasters, my uncle's family, and my grandpa. A post dedicated to Guatemala is coming soon.
When my dad goes to the grocery store, he buys whatever is on sale and sometimes without looking at the label. Cereal was on sale this week. The box he brought home said: "NEW! Unfrosted" My cereal spirit has never been so dejected. Honestly, who wants UNfrosted Miniwheats? C'mon Kellogg's, you're breaking my heart (or maybe rescuing it).
As I was on the verge of closing down my AmeriCorps email account today, I came across peculiar message in my inbox:
Hi guys, Is the Andy White mentioned on your website the same Andy White who drummed on the first single of The Beatles? I gather he now lives in New Jersey. If so I would like to contact Andy for interview in a new book about The Beatles. Many thanks, Martin Creasy (author of Legends On Tour - The Pop Package Tours Of The 1960s).
Uh, yes Mister Creasy, in fact it was me who drummed on that first single of the Beatles. Any thoughts?
I've interacted with quite a few people younger than me over the last year or so. Some of them were in high school. Some were already in college. As a college graduate, I offered each of them these four pieces of advice:
1. Go to class --It's really easy to skip lectures, especially if you're hungover or it's a Friday, but why would you do that? When I was at Gettysburg College, a few of us did the calculations. Each lecture costs over $100, with one hundred being a conservative estimate. Why waste the money? Why waste the education? Because I went to class, I didn't have to spend as much time studying on my own and catching up on things I had missed and I ended up earning good grades. There are so many people out there who would be damn happy for the opportunity to go to college. If you are blessed with the privilege to be there, then GO. Woody Allen sums it up: "Eighty percent of success is showing up."
2. Do not go Greek --There are exceptions to this, but if your school is anything like Gettysburg, then you ought to stay away from the frats and sororities. In essence, each greek group has a personality and you get the chance to pick which one you want to be like. In your first year, you get to sample each one by way of parties and various events. By year's end, you probably have a good idea about which greek brothers or sisters you admire most and where you'd fit in best. Why become a greek clone when you can develop into your own person independently? Greek values, from my experience, are not very good ones. Getting shwasted and getting laid seem to be the things at the top of their to-do lists.
3. Study abroad --Do it. That's all I can say. You will certainly come back anew with a changed perspective about pretty much everything. It doesn't matter where you go, just GO. Mark Twain says it well: "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things can not be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."
4. Choose courses based on the professor who teaches the course, not the subject of the course --I know for some majors you may not have a lot of flexibility when putting together a course schedule, but trust me on this one. If you've heard a bunch of your friends yapping about just how awesome their Sociology professor is, it's usually not by fluke. The approbation or negativity of the yaps is often a good indicator on how much you'll get out of a course. Students don't praise professors who suck (obviously), nor do they praise professors who don't give homework (they just say "easy A"). The students praise the ones who are intelligent, entertaining, and challenging--the ones who make you better. The enthusiasm of a professor can be contagious. You can tell which professors are there because they want to sculpt the young minds of the future and which ones are there because that's just what they were asked to do. Let's just say I learned more pertinent life skills in college from an engaging ceramics class than I did from a litany of poorly taught science courses.
Any other college tips you would add?
My AmeriCorps exit interview was last week. I am done with that now. These days I'm at home sifting through piles of AmeriCorps-related literature that have accumulated over the past year, extracting only the goods. I'm also preparing for the GRE test and beginning to search for graduate school programs. I would like to start in Fall 2009.
It's nice to be back.
Cheers,
Andy
When my dad goes to the grocery store, he buys whatever is on sale and sometimes without looking at the label. Cereal was on sale this week. The box he brought home said: "NEW! Unfrosted" My cereal spirit has never been so dejected. Honestly, who wants UNfrosted Miniwheats? C'mon Kellogg's, you're breaking my heart (or maybe rescuing it).
As I was on the verge of closing down my AmeriCorps email account today, I came across peculiar message in my inbox:
Hi guys, Is the Andy White mentioned on your website the same Andy White who drummed on the first single of The Beatles? I gather he now lives in New Jersey. If so I would like to contact Andy for interview in a new book about The Beatles. Many thanks, Martin Creasy (author of Legends On Tour - The Pop Package Tours Of The 1960s).
Uh, yes Mister Creasy, in fact it was me who drummed on that first single of the Beatles. Any thoughts?
I've interacted with quite a few people younger than me over the last year or so. Some of them were in high school. Some were already in college. As a college graduate, I offered each of them these four pieces of advice:
1. Go to class --It's really easy to skip lectures, especially if you're hungover or it's a Friday, but why would you do that? When I was at Gettysburg College, a few of us did the calculations. Each lecture costs over $100, with one hundred being a conservative estimate. Why waste the money? Why waste the education? Because I went to class, I didn't have to spend as much time studying on my own and catching up on things I had missed and I ended up earning good grades. There are so many people out there who would be damn happy for the opportunity to go to college. If you are blessed with the privilege to be there, then GO. Woody Allen sums it up: "Eighty percent of success is showing up."
2. Do not go Greek --There are exceptions to this, but if your school is anything like Gettysburg, then you ought to stay away from the frats and sororities. In essence, each greek group has a personality and you get the chance to pick which one you want to be like. In your first year, you get to sample each one by way of parties and various events. By year's end, you probably have a good idea about which greek brothers or sisters you admire most and where you'd fit in best. Why become a greek clone when you can develop into your own person independently? Greek values, from my experience, are not very good ones. Getting shwasted and getting laid seem to be the things at the top of their to-do lists.
3. Study abroad --Do it. That's all I can say. You will certainly come back anew with a changed perspective about pretty much everything. It doesn't matter where you go, just GO. Mark Twain says it well: "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things can not be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."
4. Choose courses based on the professor who teaches the course, not the subject of the course --I know for some majors you may not have a lot of flexibility when putting together a course schedule, but trust me on this one. If you've heard a bunch of your friends yapping about just how awesome their Sociology professor is, it's usually not by fluke. The approbation or negativity of the yaps is often a good indicator on how much you'll get out of a course. Students don't praise professors who suck (obviously), nor do they praise professors who don't give homework (they just say "easy A"). The students praise the ones who are intelligent, entertaining, and challenging--the ones who make you better. The enthusiasm of a professor can be contagious. You can tell which professors are there because they want to sculpt the young minds of the future and which ones are there because that's just what they were asked to do. Let's just say I learned more pertinent life skills in college from an engaging ceramics class than I did from a litany of poorly taught science courses.
Any other college tips you would add?
My AmeriCorps exit interview was last week. I am done with that now. These days I'm at home sifting through piles of AmeriCorps-related literature that have accumulated over the past year, extracting only the goods. I'm also preparing for the GRE test and beginning to search for graduate school programs. I would like to start in Fall 2009.
It's nice to be back.
Cheers,
Andy
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Oh, baby. Oh, doctor.
Last week a close colleague of mine named Beth brought her three-month-old daughter, Emily Elizabeth, into the office. There were only two of us up on the 3rd floor and we were mesmerized by this little miracle of a baby. At first Emily was asleep, silent and still. But then, a little saliva-enhanced gasp and she was awake! Look at those dark blue eyes! She would stare and dribble and smile and we would melt. Even complete strangers fall for babies. Babies have some real power. But for all the power they possess, they are whiny and virtually helpless. Beth was describing how Emily had colic, a condition where the infant cries or screams for hours at a time and there is nothing anyone can do to stop them. I don't think Beth slept much in the last three months. But even through those uncontrollable cries, there is still unconditional motherly love. Disregarding the colic, babies pretty much just eat, sleep, and poop--and yep, mama deals with it. We don't give moms enough credit. Please, let us thank our mothers.
I didn't get my mom a mother's day card or gift. Seeing baby Emily made me think about what my mom did for me when I was a wee thing so I gave her a nice hug when I got home. Then she told me a story about how she brought me to a work meeting when I was baby. I was making baby sounds and her intimidating, macho boss thought the sounds were coming from a kitten. The boss was fuming about the idea of a pet in the meeting and as he was about to blow, his eyes fell on little me, and then his anger was instantly quelled.
On the other side of the spectrum, my long-time pediatrician Dr. Levin died this week. He had some sort of blood cancer. This is the man who charted my growth, watched me mature. I remember he did a spot on Donald Duck impersonation. That's how I identified him. But I was frightened of him as a little one. One time he reached down to pick me up, but I clenched my small fingers around the leg of a nearby chair. Dr. Levin still proceeded to lift me, but when he did, the whole chair went airborne. I was a strong baby.
Dr. Levin was also the one who to make a diagnosis about my hair loss ailment. He incorrectly prescribed Nizoral, an anti-fungal shampoo. It just shows that you can only see what you are prepared to see. Dr. Levin never read the chapter about Alopecia Areata too closely, I suppose. I've learned since that the kind I have is more of a mental condition, and in the same family as obsessive compulsive disorder. It is something that defines my character. It's called perfectionism and sometimes it prevents me from trying new things. I always want to be perfect at the outset, so I tend to avoid bouts with imperfection. Because I know this about myself, I combat it by blindly signing up for adventures. My next adventure is a ten-day service trip down to Guatemala with my church. I leave on June 26th. I'll tell you all about it.
Life is short, sweet, beautiful, and fragile. Babies are born. Doctors die. And golly gee, go give your mom a hug.
Cheers,
Andy
I didn't get my mom a mother's day card or gift. Seeing baby Emily made me think about what my mom did for me when I was a wee thing so I gave her a nice hug when I got home. Then she told me a story about how she brought me to a work meeting when I was baby. I was making baby sounds and her intimidating, macho boss thought the sounds were coming from a kitten. The boss was fuming about the idea of a pet in the meeting and as he was about to blow, his eyes fell on little me, and then his anger was instantly quelled.
On the other side of the spectrum, my long-time pediatrician Dr. Levin died this week. He had some sort of blood cancer. This is the man who charted my growth, watched me mature. I remember he did a spot on Donald Duck impersonation. That's how I identified him. But I was frightened of him as a little one. One time he reached down to pick me up, but I clenched my small fingers around the leg of a nearby chair. Dr. Levin still proceeded to lift me, but when he did, the whole chair went airborne. I was a strong baby.
Dr. Levin was also the one who to make a diagnosis about my hair loss ailment. He incorrectly prescribed Nizoral, an anti-fungal shampoo. It just shows that you can only see what you are prepared to see. Dr. Levin never read the chapter about Alopecia Areata too closely, I suppose. I've learned since that the kind I have is more of a mental condition, and in the same family as obsessive compulsive disorder. It is something that defines my character. It's called perfectionism and sometimes it prevents me from trying new things. I always want to be perfect at the outset, so I tend to avoid bouts with imperfection. Because I know this about myself, I combat it by blindly signing up for adventures. My next adventure is a ten-day service trip down to Guatemala with my church. I leave on June 26th. I'll tell you all about it.
Life is short, sweet, beautiful, and fragile. Babies are born. Doctors die. And golly gee, go give your mom a hug.
Cheers,
Andy
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