I Doubt Any Of Us Agree With This

College students are a curious breed, but according to an article posted on DailyMail.co.Uk, they are more curious than ever. Just with its headline, this article stakes the claim that “College Students Think They are More Special Than EVER.” How? You may ask. By conduction surveys over the course of forty-seven years, the researchers have noticed a spike in “self-esteem” among the “individualistic” students. When asked to rate themselves among their peers, a majority of students consider themselves “above-average”. This response led the author to consider students on U.S. campuses as a generation with a “sense of entitlement”.  This article also suggests that, despite what many education professionals, believe, high self-esteem shows no proven relationship to success. The article even goes so far as to suggest that “encouragement” in the classroom, will only allow “weaker students [to] actually perform worse”.

Although, I feel the dynamics of college campuses has really changed in the last decade, I cannot let myself generalize the populations of entire U.S. colleges. Yes, the results of studies can give us inklings to how the “average” student lives their life; although, in my experience, I have learned that most students are, contrary to what this author and some researchers seem to believe, not-so-average. This article depends so greatly on generalizations that I feel is it addressing its audience in an attempt to scold the reader (and assuming the reader is a college student themselves). If the true data could stand on its own, the writer would not feel the need to group current students as “egotists” and “narcissists”. Through this author’s cold use of language and negative tone, he lost this reader’s attention to the statistical data, and created a personal, and unsuccessful, reaction.

Insomnia

Mind occupied, heart racing, eyes darting, and yet your body feels an exhaustion that cannot be contained or explained without making the ache in your muscles beat harder and harder against your skin. A movement escapes your legs, despite your attempt to hold still, despite your attempts to relax your limbs and force an empty mind. But not tonight, not now, will the rest come. The rest evades all attempts of achievement through meditation and medication. The rest refuses to submit and become one with your mind and body. You lay awake.

The ceiling fan. It hums above you. A monotonous noise: one that would lull most infants and young children into a state of sleep, but not you. It is a distraction. Your eyes focus upon it. The room is too warm to survive without the constant whirling, but you are too distracted by the sight and sound to take advantage of the cool air rhythmically pushing against your body.

The humidifier. An unavoidable bright light streams from the body of the contraption. You have tried to cover the “on switch” with tape, but the bulb wattage is stronger than your attempts. You roll to your side, facing away from the harsh, blinding light, but to no avail. For the light shines onto the wall now opposite your eyes. Do you dare to shut it off, and deal with the consequences of a deep cough and dry skin?

The basketball court. It is three o’clock in the morning. You understand that school is expensive, and scholarship is our claim to life, but do they dare shoot hoops at this hour? Do they dare yell and scream at the “skins”? Practice may make perfect, but, please, you beg them, not outside your window.

The bed. So soft and inviting by day, becomes rough and uncomfortable under the moonlight. You twist and turn, trying to lay your body in the most calming positions, only to find your limbs caught up in the sheets and blankets. Too cold. Too hot. Too constricting. Too loose. A happy medium of all things tactile evades you. You eventually find yourself lying in the most embarrassing positions: one leg outside of the covers, just your nose peaking out over the edge of the comforter, or your arm hanging off the side of the now rock-like mattress. And still, these ridiculous attempts are fruitless.

The roommate. Seven AM is a time for morning people. Your nocturnal mind keeps you from ever being a citizen of the early morn. Her feet pad across the hall outside your door. You hear the ripping of the paper packaging and a rush of water from the sink. The microwave beeps. She makes oatmeal. Your mind races, praying to one day feel the way she feels. So rested, a morning routine is just that, a routine, instead your normal course of obstacles.

The fantasy. The worst of all distractions lies within your own skull. Your brain tells you stories. The most interesting stories you will ever hear. Your thoughts and dreams run by you in perfect color and clarity. You reach a road sign, a writer’s block, and you must turn back in your tale. Your mind works to start over, go back to the beginning and rewrite. You plan out your life, your future, your romance, and before you know it, the dream, the fantasy, has taken up all your precious hours of rest.

The alarm. You lay awake and hear the screeching of the sound that haunts most student’s REM cycles. They dream in wait for the moment the clock chimes and awakens them from their dreams; but not for you. The red lights of the beast have been staring into your skull for the past hours. You have become close friends by now, and the ringing so close to your ears is just its reminder that your night together has ended. You must break your eye-contact with the monster and give up on your hopes of rest for the night. It is time to start your obstacle course for the day.

Response to: Annie Dillard: “The Chase”

Dillard begins her essay by explaining her relationship with boys as a child. She speaks of her cunning tactics in football and baseball. Talk of these sports, and their inability to be played throughout the winter, lead into a detailed anecdote of Dillard and her friends in the winter. One day, while continuing their routine of throwing snow balls at cars, Dillard and the boys she hung out with throw a snowball at the windshield of a black Buick. In contrast to an adults "normal" reaction to this childhood prank; "the car, pulled over and stopped." A man, dressed in "city-clothes: a suit and tie, street shoes", got out of the car and began a very extensive chase after the six children. Upon catching up to the kids, the young man proceeded to "perfunctorily" lecture the "stupid kids" on the error of their ways. Regarding the maze Dillard and friends caused the businessman to run, Dillard remarks, "I don't know how he found his way back to his car."

        Growing up with two older brothers has a very large impact on your childhood. When I was a young girl, I was the biggest tom-boy to ever live. I spent my days aspiring to be like my older brothers, playing in the mud and catching tadpoles. Every year, for my birthday, my aunt would give me a Barbie doll, and every year, I would ask my mom "Why?" "Why does Aunt Mary give me these when I never play with them?" It wasn't until I started school that I understood that young girls were expected to WANT to play with dolls. Although, this discovery did not change the way I acted nor the way my mother encouraged me in my playtime habits. At school, I would always befriend the boys playing basketball on the playground, and actively ignore the young girls practicing their older sisters' cheer-leading moves. My mom will tell the story of how she once waited months for me to get on to the waiting list of a highly regarded dance school, only to have me throw a fit about not wanting to go and insist upon joining a soccer team instead. All these anecdotes are highly ironic to the fact that I grew to love music and dance as a teen and soon regretted my six-year-old decision to forego the dance training. Although, I have no honest story of being chased by a man in a business suit, I can connect to Anne Dillard in this other way. From her extensive descriptions of beating her male friends at what is assumed to be tackle football and baseball, I can see a small bit of my young self in her writing. This was the part of the essay that stood out so strongly to me. I feel as though Anne performed the act of throwing the snowball as a form of impressing her daring male peers. As a child, I always felt as though I needed to act like and compete with the boys I befriended as a way to state my value to the group. This may also stem from a bit of sibling rivalry and being the baby of the family, who knows?

        I am most interested to know how this passage connects to Anne Dillard's life as an adult. In contrast to E.B. White's essays, Dillard gives primarily the facts and ceases to explain the event's later impacts on her life. I would like to ask her why she felt the need to write this little piece of her history down and share it with others. I am also curious to know what she now, as an adult, thinks of her actions as a child. In all honesty, I would like to have more details about the businessman. Did he go to the children's parents about their prank and what all did his lecture to the children entail?

Response to: Annie Dillard: “Total Eclipse”

Beginning with a simile comparing the events to "dying", Dillard introduces one of the overlying themes of “Total Eclipse”. She goes on to describe in great detail a terrifying painting on the wall of her hotel room. It is of a "smiling clown's head, made out of vegetables". Dillard then directs her attention back to her experience with the eclipse. She discusses the long drive "inland from the Washington coast". The focus of the essay then returns to the hotel, where Dillard describes the events of a small lobby as she and her husband wait to be assigned to a room. They remain at the hotel for one night, and awake the following morning at six to begin their trip up the hills. They perch, along with hundreds of others, on a "five hundred feet high" hill to watch the eclipse. Dillard goes on to discuss a "partial eclipse" she witnessed in 1970. She explains how a partial eclipse "bears almost no relation to a total eclipse". Dillard tells the reader that during the total eclipse the sky's blue deepens to an indigo. Dillard directs her attention to the land around her. She compares all vegetation to various metals and then begins seeing the world as a "nine-tenth century tinted photograph". Dillard yearns to be back in her "own century, the people [she] knew! And the real light of day". As the eclipse takes place, Dillard hears screams erupt from the hillside as every is plunged into total darkness. The author, in part three, discusses the existential properties of a total eclipse. Following the eclipse, it takes the author hearing a college student compare the ring of sunlight visible to a "life-saver" to snap herself back into reality. In conclusion, Dillard remarks on the highway during the eclipse; how individuals on their way to work are stopped by the sudden darkness. She also explains her behavior following the total eclipse; how she and her husband immediately left, not even staying long enough to watch the sun fully emerge.

Although, I have never experienced an eclipse I still found a strange amount of connection to Dillard's writing in this instance. There are moments where I think about the vastness of the universe and feel incredibly small. One feels entirely insignificant when one thinks about the size of the world around them. I remember once, at bible camp, we watched a seminar on the universe. The preacher first held up a golf ball, and then a large projection of the sun was lit up on the wall behind him. The point of the speech was to tell us kids how much God had created and how much bigger he was then everything in the universe, but that isn't what I got out of it. I mean, it was, but not the only thing. All it made me feel was small, not inspired, and not trusting. It was terrifying, it took me until I was home with my family to snap back to reality, much like it took Annie until hearing the college student to come back to the real world. Knowing that I meant something and was so important to my parents and siblings brought me back, they made me feel big again. They made me feel significant in a humongous world.

The biggest question I must ask about this passage is in regards to the clown painting. I am always curious as to why authors choose to include certain anecdotes in their writing. In my opinion, I was unable to find the significance of the clown in this particular essay. Why did Dillard include it? I would also like to acknowledge the timeline of this essay. Why did the author jump back and forth so often? What time of emotion was she trying to emote based on this? I would also like to ask why she felt as though the vegetation was like metals. I had a hard time picturing this, and therefore, question where this metaphor came from.

Response to: Annie Dillard: “Weasel is Wild”

Annie Dillard takes a much more vivid and violent approach to essay writing in "Living Weasel is Wild". In this passage, Dillard describes a small confrontation between herself and this rodent, referring to them as "two lovers, or enemies". To begin her account, Dillard describes the preying of a weasel; how he "stalks" and kills "more bodies than he can eat warm". Although, the author contradicts this strong interpretation of a weasel by proceeding to an anecdote about Ernest Thompson Seton. Seton says that a man "shot an eagle out of the sky" and "found the dry skull of a weasel fixed by the jaws to his throat". By choosing to share this with the reader, Dillard explores the idea of the weasel as a victim. Dillard then states that these ponderings featuring weasels were inspired when she "saw one last week" "near [her] house in Virginia" by Hollis Pond. She goes on to produce a detailed description of the pond and her meeting with the "arrowhead"-like rodent. Dillard felt as though this experience were as if she had "been in that weasel's brain for sixty seconds". This experience causes the author to examine life through the eyes and mind of a rodent. She realizes the value of "mindlessness" and the "purity of living". Dillard then toys with the idea of fully embodying the creature and "live for two days in the den" and living where "the mind is single". In her final thoughts, Dillard leaves the reader to ponder the idea of "living at every moment to the perfect freedom of single necessity".

        I truly can never say I wanted to step into the mind of an animal. (I read Anamorphs as a kid, and I think they may have ruined that whole super power for me.) Although, I can say I have always felt a strong connection to animals, mostly my pet dogs. I was bullied throughout elementary school, and therefore, I did not feel as though I had many friends. This may sound sad, but that is where my dog came in: Jake. Jake was a black Labrador retriever who my parents had had since before I was born. He was my pet, my companion, and my best friend. I could talk to him about anything (no judgment); cuddle all over him, and play; all things and struggling nine-year-old needs. If I could have jumped within Jake's brain all I could hope to find was the same amount of love for my family and me as we had for him. We loved Jake as a member of our family, when I was twelve, he passed away. I can honestly say, that is the most emotional I have ever been. Losing Jake was like losing my best friend, but I knew, from the way Jake had always been, that he would have wept the same way over losing one of us, as we did over losing him.

        Once again, I find myself questioning Dillard's purpose in writing this passage. How did this experience affect her life in the future? And why did Annie feel it was so significant she felt the need to reflect back on her feelings after time had gone by? I am also curious about her use of such violent and, frankly, gross language. How was she hoping this language usage would affect the readers? Although, I personally enjoy a darker take on description, use of words and phrases such as “carcasses” and “splitting the jugular vein” could have easily turned off the more innocent reader. This change in writing style from “The Chase”, was welcomed in my mind, but could be considered shocking in others. I can hope that as we continue to read Annie Dillard’s essays, she does not sugarcoat her descriptions, although, I must ask, if these artistic choices were ever second-guessed by the author. 

Response to: David Sedaris: "Consider the Stars"

Sedaris begins the philsophical journey of "Consider the Stars" by thinking back to a "Labor Day celebration at the Raleigh Country Club" where he overheard a group of sixth graders discussing the "celebrity circles" of their junior high school. Shocked by this, Sedaris comments on how a young him went "into a mild shock" upon hearing their conversation. For, in the young David's head, it had "simply never occurred to [him] that other schools might have their own" social circles. Reflecting on his own school's "popular crowd", Sedaris describes their characteristics and "power". A power so complete "that [he] actually felthonored when one of them hit [him] in the mouth with a rock". This encounter with a boy by the name of Thad Pope leads the narrator to further explain this anecdote. When Thad hit David, it caused damage to his teeth, causing him to need a root canal. This was something David's father, much to his son's dismay, felt should be paid for by the assaulting party. A meeting is set up with the Pope family, and Sedaris is very surprised to see that "Thad was full capable of operating independently" without his group of "special" students. Young David insists that the injury was caused by his own stupidity and out of no malicious intent on Thad's part. He eventually comes to the conclusion that he and his dad do not belong around the Pope's. Sedaris even goes so far as to blame his father for he himself not fitting in; saying "You don't belong here. More precisely, I decided that he was the reason I didn't belong." Eventually, the Pope's "agreed to pay for half the root canal" because, Sedaris believes, "they wanted us out of their house." The next day, at lunch, David makes an attempt to approach Thad and give his sincerest apology, only to be shut down. The whole encounter with David and his father was "so far beneath him that it hadn't even registered." Sedaris goes on to explain how things began changing after junior high. Desegregation had a large impact on the way high school cliques were sorted. It even so happened that Thad was jumped by a group of new black students "early in [their] junior year", although, Sedaris found, he had an odd sympathy/worship in his heart for Thad Pope. He tells the reader how he clapped longer for Thad at graduation and even found himself wondering about Thad and how his experiences would be at college or hoping that he would run into him in their now adult lives. In conclusion, Sedaris comments on him constant reminder of Thad and junior high: his root canal. Something he eventually comes to describe as "a little misunderstanding between friends".

            Cliques suck. That is what I got from this essay. To be honest, I feel like everyone I talk to these days has had some problem, at some point in their life, with being the odd man out or being bullied. Although, I had a great middle and high school experience, the road getting there was awful. I was extremely bullied in elementary school. I have always been a "no nonsense" kind of girl, and lets just say, the girls in my elementary school class were full of all kinds of nonsense. They were petty and backbiting and I couldn't deal with it. Not to say I was some model child that was nice to everyone, but I feel as though, compared to these girls, I was. When the "popular" girls were mean, I would tell them. And those actions quickly got me off to the wrong foot with this clique. I found myself completely ostracized from the class. I worked alone on group projects, shot hoops by myself at recess, and joined many extracurriculars that were unaffiliated with my school. These were my saving grace. I found out then, that you didn't have to worry how people thought of you, especially in a small situation like the fifth grade. Reading this essay, I found myself hating Sedaris. The way he worshipped this "celebrity circle" disgusted me. When I was little and my mom told me to "not worry what others thought of me" I found solise in her words. Telling me those things saved me, and the way young Sedaris despised his father for encouraging him to be his own person caused me, as a reader, to have no sympathy for him and his unhappiness.

            Mine main question for Sedaris does not have to do with his writing style or use of language, it has to do with his feelings about his writing. Did he really worship Thad the way he described? Why did he feel so strongly that his father was wrong? Looking back on these events as an adult, does he believe that his father is right? Why did Sedaris include the details an emotions that he did? I also find myself wondering how this pondering over junior high drama ended up relating to his initial questions regarding the universe? Why did he choose to not return to his original thoughts?

Response to: David Sedaris: "Let it Snow"

Sedaris sets the scene by explaining the "frustratingly mild" winters "in North Carolina", but how one day, when he was in the fifth grade, snow fell "and, for the first time in years, it accumulated". Excited to have school cancelled and see more snow fall for the next few days, Sedaris and his siblings hung around the house. Much, Sedaris found out, to his mother's dismay. The children had “disrupted the secret life she led while we were at school" and their "mother had a little breakdown".  She proceeded to kick them out into the cold winter day. Something Sedaris considered less of a "request" and more of an "eviction". Happy to be out in the snow, Sedaris and his siblings proceeded to play in the snow, but eventually they tired of the outdoors and attempted to return to the warmth and light of the interior. As they came to their front door, they found it locked, and their mother inside having a glass of wine in the afternoon. They tried knocking on the windows, but even after noticing her children, their mother proceeded to simply take her drink to another room of the house. The children found her in her bedroom and there snowballs at the glass, but she still made no move except to pull the drapes closed, leaving her family outside in the icy weather. The children cursed her telling her she was "going to be in so much trouble when Dad gets home!", but following some discussion, concluded their father would be of no help the them. The kids finally established that the best way to gain their parents attention would be for one of them to "get hit by a car". After some deliberation as to whom the victim should be, the children turn to the youngest of the family: Tiffany. Without fully understanding what she was agreeing to, Tiffany goes to lie in the street. The first car to approach her stops and asks the group what they are doing and they explain. Soon after, the kids see their mother making the trek down their front lawn towards them. Sedaris comments on how she does not own pants and the snow is up to her calves. She looks "pity-full" and immediately the children feel a sense of worry and love for their neglectful mother. The narrator sums up the events with his mother by stating how "one moment she was locking us out of our own house and the next we were rooting around in the snow, looking for her left shoe."

            What are the lengths a child will go through to gain a parents attention? I feel as though, aside from writing a playful anecdote about a snowstorm, this was the question Sedaris toyed with in "Let it Snow". I, personally, have never had any trouble with my mother wanting me around. That is, none that I know of. But I can relate this essay to wanting to gain the attention of someone else. As an acting major, it is almost our job to gain people's attention. We will go to the greatest of physical and emotional lengths to engage an audience for a few hours. Now, will we go as far to lie in the middle of the road and hope a car hits us: I honestly don't know...? Sometimes, you will have a great audience that wants nothing more that to see you and participate in what you are bringing them with your performance. But other times, the audience may be tired, unenthusiastic, or overall unhappy to be at your show. The latter of these two instances is represented by Sedaris's mother. She has no interest in being around or engaging in activity with her children, she is sick of them. It is the children's job to gain her attention, to get her to participate. Much like an actor must do with a stubborn audience.

            In contrast to some of his other essays, Sedaris used a larger percentage of dialogue in this particular piece. Why was that? What impact was he hoping to make with this? I also found myself most curious about the children’s father. Why did the children immediately assume he would not help them as well? I enjoyed getting to know the authors siblings and the way he interacted with them. How much did their feelings about the events of this essay effect the way the story was told? Seeing as they were going through the exact same occurrence as Sedaris was which often does not happen in his narratives.