Jan 20, 2008
My Singular Rebellion Against Academic America
First and foremost, happy birthday, Mom. I love you and hope today is exactly what you want.
My first trip to UT as a prospective student was one of the most ridiculous experiences of my life, and I don't think I will ever forget it.
A few months beforehand I had received a letter in the mail asking me to come up to campus for some scholarship orientation and an interview for further support. I was devastated. I didn't want to attend UT in the fall, and I certainly did not want to cancel plans I had already made to attend a scholarship orientation at my safety school. At my parent's urging, however, I packed my bags, warned my teachers, canceled on my friends, and slouched down to the car, far from excited about the six-hour drive.
About five hours into the drive, my dad realized that we had neglected to factor in the time change between Memphis to Knoxville. He began to speed as I changed and shaved in the back seat of our minivan. We pulled up, an hour late, right as the buses were pulling out from our hotel towards campus. I ran one down and got on in front of everyone, waved awkwardly, and grabbed one of the standing poles, all of the seats taken. I quickly noticed that I was the only individual (apart from the uniformed driver), male or female, not wearing a suit. Sudden flashbacks to Office Space, "Did you get the memo?"
No one wanted to be associated with the kid who had already missed his chance at the scholarship within the first five minutes, and after trying to begin a few conversations, I decided to listen. The three guys sitting beneath my outstretched arm were from the same school, apparently, and were talking about a math test they had taken earlier that day. "I mean, derivatives and McLaurin series? Please! I can't believe anyone actually said that was hard! I almost fell asleep." Two girls sitting across from them, hair flawlessly pulled back into buns, mouths sunken into perpetual frowns, discussed their strategies for winning a scholarship and glared at the other passengers (particularly the late kid in khakis) hoping perhaps to melt them into irrelevancy with a single glance.
Standing in the middle of that bus, surrounded by these people--the best of the university--I suddenly realized that everyone on the bus was completely two-dimensional. They were stereotypes. If I had to read a book about the derivative trio, I think I might kill myself. I have nothing against math. My brother is a math genius, and for him, it is an art. He pours himself into it because he has a passion for it, and then he goes to dinner with his girlfriend, a movie maybe, probably some literature. He likes Lewis and Dostoevsky. He plays the piano, and sings.
My point is that a body needs more than school. I don't know why I choose today to talk about this, but I remember last year around this time being wrapped up in my grades and colleges and everything but the things that make me a complete person. I know that you have to be good at school to get a good job and be happy later, but if you get there and don't know how to dance or write, then where are you? What kind of life have you made for yourself? Last year on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I went through a mound of college information before doing a few hours of homework.
Please, learn from me. Get out. Do something else for a while. Go see Juno, and buy the soundtrack, because it is amazing. I'm listening to it right now. Write a story. See a play, read a good book. Have a conversation. Years from now, or maybe only days, when life is nothing like you pictured it, what will be worth more? Knowing another statistic about your school, or a piece of the human experience?
My first trip to UT as a prospective student was one of the most ridiculous experiences of my life, and I don't think I will ever forget it.
A few months beforehand I had received a letter in the mail asking me to come up to campus for some scholarship orientation and an interview for further support. I was devastated. I didn't want to attend UT in the fall, and I certainly did not want to cancel plans I had already made to attend a scholarship orientation at my safety school. At my parent's urging, however, I packed my bags, warned my teachers, canceled on my friends, and slouched down to the car, far from excited about the six-hour drive.
About five hours into the drive, my dad realized that we had neglected to factor in the time change between Memphis to Knoxville. He began to speed as I changed and shaved in the back seat of our minivan. We pulled up, an hour late, right as the buses were pulling out from our hotel towards campus. I ran one down and got on in front of everyone, waved awkwardly, and grabbed one of the standing poles, all of the seats taken. I quickly noticed that I was the only individual (apart from the uniformed driver), male or female, not wearing a suit. Sudden flashbacks to Office Space, "Did you get the memo?"
No one wanted to be associated with the kid who had already missed his chance at the scholarship within the first five minutes, and after trying to begin a few conversations, I decided to listen. The three guys sitting beneath my outstretched arm were from the same school, apparently, and were talking about a math test they had taken earlier that day. "I mean, derivatives and McLaurin series? Please! I can't believe anyone actually said that was hard! I almost fell asleep." Two girls sitting across from them, hair flawlessly pulled back into buns, mouths sunken into perpetual frowns, discussed their strategies for winning a scholarship and glared at the other passengers (particularly the late kid in khakis) hoping perhaps to melt them into irrelevancy with a single glance.
Standing in the middle of that bus, surrounded by these people--the best of the university--I suddenly realized that everyone on the bus was completely two-dimensional. They were stereotypes. If I had to read a book about the derivative trio, I think I might kill myself. I have nothing against math. My brother is a math genius, and for him, it is an art. He pours himself into it because he has a passion for it, and then he goes to dinner with his girlfriend, a movie maybe, probably some literature. He likes Lewis and Dostoevsky. He plays the piano, and sings.
My point is that a body needs more than school. I don't know why I choose today to talk about this, but I remember last year around this time being wrapped up in my grades and colleges and everything but the things that make me a complete person. I know that you have to be good at school to get a good job and be happy later, but if you get there and don't know how to dance or write, then where are you? What kind of life have you made for yourself? Last year on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I went through a mound of college information before doing a few hours of homework.
Please, learn from me. Get out. Do something else for a while. Go see Juno, and buy the soundtrack, because it is amazing. I'm listening to it right now. Write a story. See a play, read a good book. Have a conversation. Years from now, or maybe only days, when life is nothing like you pictured it, what will be worth more? Knowing another statistic about your school, or a piece of the human experience?
• • •
3 Comments:
So couple of comments. First, a question, do you keep this blog up for UTK or is it just mostly something you do for fun that they decided to link to?
That aside, I definitely agree you have a point there. Life's about much more than just studying or exams and there's certainly something better to do on what effectively is your first college orientation session than to talk about Maclaurin series, especially since they are really trivial.
So, in that spirit, I'd also like to ask, how do you like UTK so far? What do you like about it? Is there anything you don't like? I ask because I am thinking about going back to school, but this time, for the enjoyment and the social aspects. Education will come, but there's no point in chasing happiness in the future, experience has taught me that.
David,
I guess, if you get technical about it, I am a UT employee. That being said, pay is marginal at best and benefits are nonexistent, so the blog is mostly for fun. And I have a blank slate, if you're worried that I am an up and coming propagandist.
Keeping that in mind, I do like UT, but it's not a perfect place. There are some things that suck hard and others that more than make up for it, much like life anywhere else.
As for coming back for social aspects and enjoyment, I wouldn't suggest it. I mean, UT has a great environment and social scene, but if that is all you are after, why pay thousands of dollars to get it? Just come live in Knoxville, or New Orleans, or wherever, really. Waking up for an eight o'clock three days of the week doesn't exactly inspire conversation, or even enjoyment.
To clear something up, though, I have a great deal of respect for education, and hope to never stop learning in my life. You're right to say (paraphrasing) that chasing completeness in an affluent future life feels like chasing after the wind. I definitely think there are some problems with the educational system, but education itself is one of the greatest joys in my life, and I wouldn't sell that part of my soul's vitality to gain the world. I think college is amazing, because the university affords me the opportunity to seek the education I so desperately desire, whether or not it affects my future. The social aspects are great, and I think some relationships are far more important even than education (or anything else for that matter). I guess I am just glad that the two pursuits aren't mutually exclusive. In fact, I think they blend and mix like jazz and play off of each other like lovers' conversation.
I'm glad to see someone else enjoys the soundtrack from Juno. It really is amazing.
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