(no subject)
There is no way I can be here next year, I can't even believe I'm saying that because this semester has been SO much better. I want to get it together, and do something real. It is 75 degrees today, this makes me overjoyed. I am done with my FAFSA, and my UNCA application (which comes with an essay I really like because its not a bullshit list of achievements, here you should read it because it isnt boring and then you should tell me that it's good so I will feel more confident about getting into someplace other than the school with the lowest retention rate in the NC University system:)
The Barrel of Wisdom
Hannah Whittington
At the age of four I climbed into a barrel on the playground of Open Door Preschool. It was only after I climbed into the container three feet taller than me that I realized: I couldn’t get out. For most four year olds this would pose no remarkable obstacle, it would be as easy as crying for that adult help that is instantaneously granted to those with limited motor skills. This memory is significant solely because the adult on duty did not worry about the growing line of red mini-vans with mothers waiting to retreive their children. She was not at all concerned with the fact that I could see my own mother through a small hole and had begun to cry in utter frustration. The mentality of an extremely anxious toddler can actually support the possibility that he or she will actually be stuck in a barrel forever. The adult on duty was a hardcore teacher; she had a daisy on her car antenna that I could also see through my hole. She told me "Hannah, if you got yourself into the barrel, you can certainly get yourself out." That was that. My mother waited for what seemed like five hundred and eleven years to while I constructed some sort climbing device to get myself out and quite surprisingly I did. Yes, I lived to tell this story. I also learned how valuable the moral is.
Since Open Door School I have not climbed in another barrel...physically. Instead I have climbed into problems with complexities that are a lot more dense than a large wooden container. I still see my old pre-school teacher because we go to the same church, now she has an ample amount of wrinkles, a dead husband, and a faded yellow daisy on her car antenna. Her name is Sue. She grew very old while I grew up and it really helped bring the process of change into focus . It would be unnecessary to call change inevitable, that statement is obvious.
My existence is a struggle for that oh so anticipated transition to independence. I am a problem solver thus I get myself out of every barrel…eventually. I would much rather help than be helped. But I have no objections to the help offered by wise guides that I was hoping to meet in college. My aunt says this is classical behavior of a Sagittarius, I say: "You really believe that stuff?" Some might confuse memorization with learning, I feel obligated to set them straight. With tactics suggested by a good teacher, I can probably memorize the Articles of Confederation. But that’s not learning, it's merely quoting and shooting off facts as if they are defective fireworks. Quoting in the place of teaching is a outlet for the uncertain and neurotic, an easy path. However, knowledge and actual learning is a universal gift. My favorite quote has always been one in Conrad's Heart of Darkness when the Russian Trader says of Kurtz; "He enlarged my mind." By senior year of high school, I felt like burning every "worksheet" I saw. I was in dire need of some "mind enlarging."
I wanted college to be passionate conversations with worldly professors under trees. I wanted to meet people that were enthusiastic about getting some real learning done. But when I got to Western Carolina I was severely disheartened. It seemed like reading was so "uncool", that classes were a pain (at least to those who actually went.) Honestly, I feel like I have gotten myself into another barrel. Now that I have researched UNCA more, and listened to what my peers have to say about it, I am hoping I will be accepted so that I can embark on a more academically and culturally enriching journey. We are spinning right now, the clock is ticking and I feel like I have a limited amount of time to find the right college. My first experience in a barrel is just the first of many times when the world spun around me. Barrels are unavoidable, but I will never stay in one. I will see the world or die trying.
Also today, Im sad because I feel like everyone is more creative than me. :( frowny.
The Barrel of Wisdom
Hannah Whittington
At the age of four I climbed into a barrel on the playground of Open Door Preschool. It was only after I climbed into the container three feet taller than me that I realized: I couldn’t get out. For most four year olds this would pose no remarkable obstacle, it would be as easy as crying for that adult help that is instantaneously granted to those with limited motor skills. This memory is significant solely because the adult on duty did not worry about the growing line of red mini-vans with mothers waiting to retreive their children. She was not at all concerned with the fact that I could see my own mother through a small hole and had begun to cry in utter frustration. The mentality of an extremely anxious toddler can actually support the possibility that he or she will actually be stuck in a barrel forever. The adult on duty was a hardcore teacher; she had a daisy on her car antenna that I could also see through my hole. She told me "Hannah, if you got yourself into the barrel, you can certainly get yourself out." That was that. My mother waited for what seemed like five hundred and eleven years to while I constructed some sort climbing device to get myself out and quite surprisingly I did. Yes, I lived to tell this story. I also learned how valuable the moral is.
Since Open Door School I have not climbed in another barrel...physically. Instead I have climbed into problems with complexities that are a lot more dense than a large wooden container. I still see my old pre-school teacher because we go to the same church, now she has an ample amount of wrinkles, a dead husband, and a faded yellow daisy on her car antenna. Her name is Sue. She grew very old while I grew up and it really helped bring the process of change into focus . It would be unnecessary to call change inevitable, that statement is obvious.
My existence is a struggle for that oh so anticipated transition to independence. I am a problem solver thus I get myself out of every barrel…eventually. I would much rather help than be helped. But I have no objections to the help offered by wise guides that I was hoping to meet in college. My aunt says this is classical behavior of a Sagittarius, I say: "You really believe that stuff?" Some might confuse memorization with learning, I feel obligated to set them straight. With tactics suggested by a good teacher, I can probably memorize the Articles of Confederation. But that’s not learning, it's merely quoting and shooting off facts as if they are defective fireworks. Quoting in the place of teaching is a outlet for the uncertain and neurotic, an easy path. However, knowledge and actual learning is a universal gift. My favorite quote has always been one in Conrad's Heart of Darkness when the Russian Trader says of Kurtz; "He enlarged my mind." By senior year of high school, I felt like burning every "worksheet" I saw. I was in dire need of some "mind enlarging."
I wanted college to be passionate conversations with worldly professors under trees. I wanted to meet people that were enthusiastic about getting some real learning done. But when I got to Western Carolina I was severely disheartened. It seemed like reading was so "uncool", that classes were a pain (at least to those who actually went.) Honestly, I feel like I have gotten myself into another barrel. Now that I have researched UNCA more, and listened to what my peers have to say about it, I am hoping I will be accepted so that I can embark on a more academically and culturally enriching journey. We are spinning right now, the clock is ticking and I feel like I have a limited amount of time to find the right college. My first experience in a barrel is just the first of many times when the world spun around me. Barrels are unavoidable, but I will never stay in one. I will see the world or die trying.
Also today, Im sad because I feel like everyone is more creative than me. :( frowny.