Smile
I warned my roommates that today I would be extremely irritable. I was doing overtime with studying for an exam and preparing for a presentation. And then after all of that stress, would have to sit down to write three papers...all due in the next three days.
So what happened?
Yesterday I cried at work (again), but it felt different. Like the way some memories still make you cry. It's no longer fresh...it feels like a memory now.
And I haven't been sleeping for the past week. I feel listless, despondent.
But today was different.
The exam was ehhh. What seems to be the case is that when I take the practice exam having only read half the material I need to know, I still score above the class mean. Once I read all the material covered, my score only goes up marginally. And I mean marginally (a question or two). This is telling me that the information I retain is solely through lectures and not my reading.
I prepared for my presentation. I still didn't have anything ready. Working against the clock, I threw together my outfit, the cuts of my text, and my visual aids.
The presentation couldn't have gone better. My group was assigned "Feminism and Creativity" -- so what did we do? We stacked all the desks against the walls and forced people utilize the space and look each other in the eyes and do "body learning" and asked questions about our comfort zones and why people are hostile to breaks in their conditioning (ie: sitting in desks). Then there was lecture on Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own and a segment on Riot Grrls and zines. Then I became a "storyteller" with people still sitting on the floor with Trinh T. Minh-ha's Native, Woman, Other "theory." Navigating the space, I broke rules of grammar, syntax, clarity, and convention -- and didn't explain a thing.
It felt so good.
I've been conditioned to explain every single quote I use (the explanation must be equal to or greater than the quotation used). But not this. I "performed" the theory and the words meant what I wanted them to mean and there was no other explaining to do. It was beautiful.
Then I "parted the sea" and we rolled this huge sheet of paper all down the middle of the room and threw down various writing mediums and told people to "go." People drew pictures, wrote thoughts, made comments. Someone wrote a thank you for my inclusion of feminist theory (particularly Minh-ha and Adrienne Rich). I also got a kiss at the end of my presentation! XD (it was on top of my head, but it was quite sweet...)
The downside is that the group that followed our tough act was...well...offensive. In the way they discussed "Women and Violence" -- in perpetrating men as the sole aggressors, in using flippant tones, and in presenting Female Genital Mutilation with a purely Western ideology forced onto other cultures. One girl was so upset, she walked out of the room in tears. Afterwards, there were some people who expressed anger amongst themselves at what was said and some others who stayed to talk to the professor about it. Some of the presenters gave life accounts of their horrific experience, and they should not be degraded in any way, but there were other problems with what was being presented.
We spoke to the professor and told her that the space was not safe and did not promote dissenting voices that raise questions...and we might raise some next class period.
But even if things ended on a down note, I walked away with some of my group members and I felt bonded to them. And the past few weeks I've felt bonded to some girls from my class and we chat often after hours about girliness. I'm slowly forming a support network that I've never had before. In the past, it's been dependent on my living arrangements, where it was always someone who lived close by (ie: same building), or I've just gone it alone and concentrated on my studies and not encouraged others to spend time with me.
Even last semester, my only connections were with my roommates and while good, it is a forced connection because it is not like they can just leave.
This is the first semester I've gone and created memories with people in my classes. They're a dispersed support system, but one that converges for the times that we converge to be together.
I'm a little sad that the semester is coming to a close. I wonder if we will be able to pick up again next semester or continue through the summer.
I came home bursting with energy. I sang and smiled at myself in the mirror. And I danced for an hour about my apartment, all the while telling stories to my roommates. And when I wasn't dancing, I was squirming and worming and wriggling around, twisting to find the place my body wanted to go.
I haven't been happy in what seems ages...two weeks only? And while there have been bursts of brilliance when I am recounting funny stories of Jake with friends, or laughing at a movie--I eventually regress into my quietness...and each and every night, my sleepless terror-induced-anxiety.
I think the presentation reminded me of my deep connection with my body. I felt alive again. And I was so happy to feel my body respond in kind. It fed my elation.
I just want to crawl into my skin and bask in the sun.
So what happened?
Yesterday I cried at work (again), but it felt different. Like the way some memories still make you cry. It's no longer fresh...it feels like a memory now.
And I haven't been sleeping for the past week. I feel listless, despondent.
But today was different.
The exam was ehhh. What seems to be the case is that when I take the practice exam having only read half the material I need to know, I still score above the class mean. Once I read all the material covered, my score only goes up marginally. And I mean marginally (a question or two). This is telling me that the information I retain is solely through lectures and not my reading.
I prepared for my presentation. I still didn't have anything ready. Working against the clock, I threw together my outfit, the cuts of my text, and my visual aids.
The presentation couldn't have gone better. My group was assigned "Feminism and Creativity" -- so what did we do? We stacked all the desks against the walls and forced people utilize the space and look each other in the eyes and do "body learning" and asked questions about our comfort zones and why people are hostile to breaks in their conditioning (ie: sitting in desks). Then there was lecture on Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own and a segment on Riot Grrls and zines. Then I became a "storyteller" with people still sitting on the floor with Trinh T. Minh-ha's Native, Woman, Other "theory." Navigating the space, I broke rules of grammar, syntax, clarity, and convention -- and didn't explain a thing.
It felt so good.
I've been conditioned to explain every single quote I use (the explanation must be equal to or greater than the quotation used). But not this. I "performed" the theory and the words meant what I wanted them to mean and there was no other explaining to do. It was beautiful.
Then I "parted the sea" and we rolled this huge sheet of paper all down the middle of the room and threw down various writing mediums and told people to "go." People drew pictures, wrote thoughts, made comments. Someone wrote a thank you for my inclusion of feminist theory (particularly Minh-ha and Adrienne Rich). I also got a kiss at the end of my presentation! XD (it was on top of my head, but it was quite sweet...)
The downside is that the group that followed our tough act was...well...offensive. In the way they discussed "Women and Violence" -- in perpetrating men as the sole aggressors, in using flippant tones, and in presenting Female Genital Mutilation with a purely Western ideology forced onto other cultures. One girl was so upset, she walked out of the room in tears. Afterwards, there were some people who expressed anger amongst themselves at what was said and some others who stayed to talk to the professor about it. Some of the presenters gave life accounts of their horrific experience, and they should not be degraded in any way, but there were other problems with what was being presented.
We spoke to the professor and told her that the space was not safe and did not promote dissenting voices that raise questions...and we might raise some next class period.
But even if things ended on a down note, I walked away with some of my group members and I felt bonded to them. And the past few weeks I've felt bonded to some girls from my class and we chat often after hours about girliness. I'm slowly forming a support network that I've never had before. In the past, it's been dependent on my living arrangements, where it was always someone who lived close by (ie: same building), or I've just gone it alone and concentrated on my studies and not encouraged others to spend time with me.
Even last semester, my only connections were with my roommates and while good, it is a forced connection because it is not like they can just leave.
This is the first semester I've gone and created memories with people in my classes. They're a dispersed support system, but one that converges for the times that we converge to be together.
I'm a little sad that the semester is coming to a close. I wonder if we will be able to pick up again next semester or continue through the summer.
I came home bursting with energy. I sang and smiled at myself in the mirror. And I danced for an hour about my apartment, all the while telling stories to my roommates. And when I wasn't dancing, I was squirming and worming and wriggling around, twisting to find the place my body wanted to go.
I haven't been happy in what seems ages...two weeks only? And while there have been bursts of brilliance when I am recounting funny stories of Jake with friends, or laughing at a movie--I eventually regress into my quietness...and each and every night, my sleepless terror-induced-anxiety.
I think the presentation reminded me of my deep connection with my body. I felt alive again. And I was so happy to feel my body respond in kind. It fed my elation.
I just want to crawl into my skin and bask in the sun.