workshop application
Maureen Mahoney better let me into this workshop..... it's hard to explain what this workshop is about, except to say that it's a week long program during Smith's j-term devoted to making a space for people to talk about the pressures of success and school and life and career and love and stuff....
1. What prompts your interest in the “Get a Life” workshop?
I’ve always been viewed as someone who has it together. My friends gently mock me for making to-do lists and finishing assignments early and going to bed before midnight. I’ve always been confident and reliable and creative, and consequently I’ve been someone that people “believe in.” I’ve been the teacher’s pet, the award winner, the good example, the leader, the best friend, the ideal potential daughter-in-law, the woman who can help change the world. I’ve been told that I am all these things and more. Often I believe it, but sometimes I don’t. I am interested in the “Get a Life” workshop because I want to think, write, talk about, and accept the fact that sometimes I feel invincible and sometimes I feel stuck. I want to feel less guilty about sometimes being vulnerable and uncertain. I want to be Kate Rood, a woman who is flawless, memorable, dynamic, and admired, but I also want to be Kate Rood, a woman who can laugh at her mistakes without feeling she has let the world down. I believe the “Get a Life” workshop will be a safe environment for me to explore these different sides of myself and think about how they are impacting my definitions of success and my plans for life after Smith.
2. What do you think of when you think about life after college?
When I think about life after Smith I think about my mom and wonder how she’ll feel if I don’t come home. I’m always the one who comes home. I think about wanting to have an adventure in D.C. at the same time I imagine flying as fast as I can back to Oregon. I think about my loans and my debt. I think about dating. I think about reading for pleasure. I think about everyone who told me I should go to law school. I think about my privilege and I feel guilty for not learning a foreign language and guilty for not wanting to leave behind my family and my comforts for a life of selfless devotion to the global community. Sometimes I think about reclaiming my Canadian citizenship. I think about all those bright young people I will have to compete against for jobs in D.C. I wonder if I’ll be a renter for life, like my mom, always quietly resentful of people with fancy homes. I think about how and when I’ll fall in love again.
1. What prompts your interest in the “Get a Life” workshop?
I’ve always been viewed as someone who has it together. My friends gently mock me for making to-do lists and finishing assignments early and going to bed before midnight. I’ve always been confident and reliable and creative, and consequently I’ve been someone that people “believe in.” I’ve been the teacher’s pet, the award winner, the good example, the leader, the best friend, the ideal potential daughter-in-law, the woman who can help change the world. I’ve been told that I am all these things and more. Often I believe it, but sometimes I don’t. I am interested in the “Get a Life” workshop because I want to think, write, talk about, and accept the fact that sometimes I feel invincible and sometimes I feel stuck. I want to feel less guilty about sometimes being vulnerable and uncertain. I want to be Kate Rood, a woman who is flawless, memorable, dynamic, and admired, but I also want to be Kate Rood, a woman who can laugh at her mistakes without feeling she has let the world down. I believe the “Get a Life” workshop will be a safe environment for me to explore these different sides of myself and think about how they are impacting my definitions of success and my plans for life after Smith.
2. What do you think of when you think about life after college?
When I think about life after Smith I think about my mom and wonder how she’ll feel if I don’t come home. I’m always the one who comes home. I think about wanting to have an adventure in D.C. at the same time I imagine flying as fast as I can back to Oregon. I think about my loans and my debt. I think about dating. I think about reading for pleasure. I think about everyone who told me I should go to law school. I think about my privilege and I feel guilty for not learning a foreign language and guilty for not wanting to leave behind my family and my comforts for a life of selfless devotion to the global community. Sometimes I think about reclaiming my Canadian citizenship. I think about all those bright young people I will have to compete against for jobs in D.C. I wonder if I’ll be a renter for life, like my mom, always quietly resentful of people with fancy homes. I think about how and when I’ll fall in love again.