Final COA

The night before the campers were going to arrive, as we were setting up our cabins, we were told to put on flip-flops and head to the chapel. I walked over there with my friends expecting just another informational talk, but when I looked into the dark, eerie, moonlit chapel, I knew that they had something different in store for us…

            Ever since I was nine years old, I have gone to an Orthodox Christian summer camp called Camp St. Raphael. It is a weeklong, overnight camp in Wagoner, Oklahoma, about an hour away from Tulsa. I always know I’m almost to camp when we hit the dangerously narrow, windy, dirt road that makes me feel like I’m going to die. After, by the grace of God, we get past that final turn, we immediately see a huge sign that says “WELCOME TO CAMP TAKATOKA” (the camp grounds that we rent). The staff anxiously awaits our arrival, cheering, laughing, and waving. Immediately when I walk off the bus, I am completely overwhelmed with joy. I see the beautiful glistening lake, the big, piney trees, the excitement in everyone’s eyes, and, most importantly, I get to see all of my friends, some of whom I haven’t gotten to see since last summer at camp!

Ever since the very first time I went to camp, it has undoubtedly been my favorite place on earth. When I was younger, it was just a chance to get out of town, play sports, have fun, make new friends, and, mostly, be away from my parents. One thing I loved about camp was I felt completely normal there—all of the kids were raised similarly to me, with a “strange” faith and “weird” parents, most of whom were very strict, Middle Eastern parents like mine. Although I loved camp and enjoyed every second of my time there, I never really cared much for the educational facet. At that age I did not enjoy our Christian education classes, going to church every morning and evening, or even thinking about anything serious. Once I hit my junior year (late, I know), however, things began to change for me.

            I began finding interest in learning about the faith that I had always said I “believed.” I started listening and paying attention to the words of the services and literally fell in love with being in that hot, bug-infested, crumbling camp chapel. I began building relationships with people in ways that I never had before. They were not only based on fun, as before, but now I looked to my friends as people to grow with and learn from, never forgetting to let loose and have fun, of course. The biggest thing I gained from going to camp, I think, would be meeting such great role models. As my interest in the faith grew, I began seeking advice from my counselors, not only learning from what they said, but also by watching how they lived their lives. Many of my counselors from camp are still “counselors” in my life right now. Kouri, my counselor from my junior year of high school, is still one of my most influential role models. Ever since I came home from camp the summer I met her, I said, “When I grow up I want to be just like Kouri,” and I still say that today. Probably the biggest role model that I had through camp, though, was Fr. James, our camp priest.

            Fr. James is the kindest, funniest, most loving and caring man I have ever known. He may be small in size and young in age, but he is abundant in wisdom. His smile stretches from ear to ear and is infectious to all who ever meet him. Fr. James began at my church as the youth director eleven years ago, so I have known him a long time. We started out having a very surface-level relationship—he was really fun and funny and I was just an immature kid who only cared about fun. As I began going to his Bible study when I was older, though, I started to realize just how great of a teacher he is. Fr. James can take the most difficult passages from the scripture and not only make them perfectly clear to us, but he also helps us apply them to our lives. The best thing about Fr. James, though, is that he doesn’t just preach the word, he truly lives it. He is always there for anyone, no matter what they need, he is a great listener, teacher, and, most importantly, a great friend. He never forces faith on anyone, but constantly makes people want to further their faith, just by watching how he lives. He is honestly the most loving, faithful, and humble man I know and his impact on my life has been unbelievable.

This may all seem irrelevant to my “coming of age” moment, but don’t worry, I’ll get there. The summer after I graduated high school, I applied to be a counselor at Camp St. Raphael and got accepted. I was so excited to get the opportunity to come back to camp again and do something different this time. Camp St. Raphael had given me so much and it only seemed fair for me to give that same experience to other kids. When I thought about being a counselor, however, I only really thought of the “fun” parts—teaching Christian Ed (fun for nerds like myself), hanging out with the kids, getting to know the rest of the staff, and just getting to be goofy, while it is totally acceptable. It practically slipped my mind the importance that the role of a counselor can be until I went to staff training.

I followed the returning staff members into the dark chapel, lit by only the light from the moon and stars, seen through the panel windows at the front. We all silently sat on the two long black benches, facing each other, with an aisle in the middle. Everyone entered reverently and silently sat, praying, so I just followed along. As I sat there, I wondered what could be going on- I am not very good with surprises so it was a struggle for me just to sit there. I tried to pray and think but thoughts of anxiety and confusion kept interrupting. A few minutes later, Father James walked out form behind the altar and told us that he was going to wash our feet with holy water just as Jesus did to his disciples to make us clean and prepare us to make a clear path for our campers.

At first, this thought was very weird to me. I was confused and more nervous for the process than anything else; I was the last one on the last bench, though, so I had time to watch and learn. As I watched, I saw Father James get on his knees, pour holy water on the people’s bare feet, and then proceed to kiss their feet. For each person whom he cleansed, their reaction was different—some people seemed indifferent while others’ reactions were more deeply felt and emotional. Once I watched Fr. James do this a few times and the process finally sunk in, it hit me. This was a huge deal- a “pivotal moment,” so to speak.

Fr. James was washing our feet just as Jesus washed the feet of His disciples at the last supper, before His crucifixion. Jesus did this, not only because their feet were dirty from their journey to the last supper, but also, more importantly, to cleanse them of all their past iniquity and make them clean so they could make clear the path to salvation for all Christ’s followers. In the gospel of John, Jesus says, "You call Me Teacher and Lord, and you say well, for so I am.  If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.  For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you.  Most assuredly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him. " When Jesus did this, it was an act of pure humility and, although it is on a much smaller scale, that is how I felt when Fr. James cleansed our feet.

Fr. James, the most influential man in my whole life, was on his knees cleansing and kissing our feet….if anything, I should be on the floor kissing HIS feet. He did this out of pure humility and all I could think was how unworthy I was of this cleansing. I did not deserve to have my feet cleansed—and by Fr. James, of all people. Besides the fact that this experience furthered my respect and admiration for Fr. James, it also really marked a change in my life.

By him cleansing me from my past and making me clean to make clear the path for my campers, I had a big responsibility. I had to be a great role model for my campers, just as my counselors still are for me. The turning point for me, however, was that I was, at that moment, transitioning from a camper to counselor…sounds silly, I know, but it really did mean a lot. That was the moment when I realized that I was no longer just the camper who was always asking advice and looking up to people—I had to become the role model, the person people look up to and who gives advice. This realization scared me a lot. I had never really been a “bad” role model, but I never really thought of myself as a role model. I kept thinking about how inspired I was by Kouri when she was my counselor and how much I look up to her and then I realized that, if done right, I could be that for someone else.

As my turn to get my feet cleansed approached, I began getting more anxious. I was overwhelmed with emotions and could not keep my mind from going in so many directions. When Fr. James finally got to me, the last person, I silently began to cry. I was overwhelmed with feelings of unworthiness and fear. I was unworthy of the gift I was receiving and I was especially unworthy of receiving it from Fr. James. I was also overcome with fear- what if I wasn’t a good role model for my campers? What if I lead them astray or give them poor advice? One of my biggest fears is to turn someone away from the faith and that was becoming more and more possible the more people looked up to me. After Fr. James got up from the ground, he gave me an avuncular kiss on the forehead and walked back behind the altar.

When the service was finally done, we all sat in the mysterious chapel, silently, until that first brave person stood up to leave. We all followed by standing, but, rather than leaving immediately, we stood in the church and began to sing hymns of praises to the Lord for this gift that he had just given us. Once Fr. James came out from behind the altar, we all left the church together in silence and walked back to our cabins. Nothing needed to be said; the silence spoke loud enough for all to hear.

For the next hour, I could not stop thinking. As I reflected upon what had just happened, I came to the realization that this service just reiterated for me the importance of living my life like Christ, humbly and lovingly, and that I am a living icon of the Lord. In me, people should see Him and I should see Him in everyone.

This service was a very critical point in my life where I experienced a role change. It was definitely a “coming of age” in the sense that I was no longer just the kid who only admired people, got inspired, and constantly asked questions- I had to become the person that people look up to, the person that inspires, and the person that people feel confident asking advice from. One thing that that I have learned through this process, however, is that just because I have been thrust into the role of “the role model,” that does not by any means mean that I am no longer seeking inspiration and asking questions. Actually, being in this position has even furthered my questioning. I now always look for inspiration in everyone and ask questions, in order to further my knowledge and better myself for others. This “coming of age” moment was just the start of what has become a constant state of striving to improve myself in knowledge, love, passion, and humility.

 

Final Paper- Introduction

If I were to classify myself as any type of writer I would say I am a passionate writer. I am not an extremely skilled writer—I have a limited vocabulary and I am not very good at using vivid images to capture the reader—but I absolutely love writing about things I am passionate about. I think that is why I loved this class so much. I am not typically comfortable sharing how I feel about things verbally, so getting to write it all out instead of having to talk about it was perfect for me. Writing is a way for me to be heard, so I love writing about things that I think people should know about—things that I love and I want everyone else to love, too.

Through being in this class, I feel as though my writing has improved tremendously. I am by no means “an English person,” but I do feel a lot more comfortable writing, both creatively about things that I love and about things that I am required to write about. I have never been in a class that requires me to be a creative writer so, although it was difficult at first, I have really come to like it. I have learned to be an honest writer and speak passionately about how I truly feel.

When given the chance to write about six topics in my life that were meaningful to me, through our coming-of-age sketches, I really had to step back and take a look at my life. These sketches caused me to reflect on where I have come from, how I’ve grown, and what I find important. Reflection is not something that I do nearly enough, but it is something that, through this class, has helped me grow a lot this semester. 

In my coming-of-age sketches, I got to discuss topics that I really loved—I honestly could have written forever about them. I decided to write about things that would give the readers a sense of who I truly am, so I chose things that are really important to me and have impacted my life not only at the time when the events happened, but still today.

These sketches were actually really fun for me to write. I would tell my parents about them on the phone as part of normal conversations because I was so excited to write them. When I got to write about Easter being my favorite holiday, I called one of my friends from church and started bouncing ideas off of her to try and put that amazing experience into words. When I decided to write about My Big Fat Greek Wedding, although I know the movie like the back of my hand, I made my family watch it with me when I was home so we could mock how scarily similar it is to our lives.

Writing these stories really helped me put my life into perspective. When given the assignment to write about six things that have impacted our lives I, as usual, was really concerned because I live a “normal” life and nothing dramatic has really happened that has changed my life. As I thought of possible topics for essays, however, I almost had trouble picking only six. I came to the realization that something as small as winning a tennis tournament or seeing an old lady pass out in church can still be extremely influential. I hope that through my sketches, readers have come to know the real Natalie and what has made me the person I am today.

           

           

           

            

ESL Converstaion 6

            For my last conversation with Giovanka, we met at Union Grounds (as per usual). Because of some communication/planning problems throughout the year, we had to have this conversation during dead days so, of course, I was DEAD. We started off by discussing her finals in her classes. She told me that they were really hard and she doesn’t think she did that well, but I can’t imagine her doing poorly in English because she is actually really proficient. For Giovanka’s finals, she barely had to study for some reason. She told me how bored she was all week and how she didn’t know what she was going to do with herself. All I could think of was how much I wish that that was my problem rather than how in the world I was going to cram all of that biology and chemistry into my brain before my tests. She told me that she planned on going shopping, out to eat, to lots of parties, and watching all her favorite TV shows before she left. Although I was unbelievably envious, I was so glad she got to spend her last days in the U.S. just relaxing and having fun.

            My favorite thing to talk to Giovanka about is the culture shocks that she constantly receives while in America. The cultural differences between her upbringing and mine are numerous, but we still seem to see eye to eye on practically everything. It is amazing how cultures can differ so much but people are people and there will be all kinds of people no matter where you are.

Giovanka is leaving for Brazil on Sunday and she is so excited! She said she is sad to leave TCU because she loves all the great friends she has made and the shopping and food in America, but she can’t wait to see her family and her little puppy. As we had our last conversation, we kind of re-capped the semester. We reminisced our first meeting where she was accidentally texting the wrong Natalie in her phone so we couldn’t find each other. We just talked like old friends—telling stories about our semester, talking about highs and lows, and cool things we’ve learned.

As I hugged Giovanka goodbye, I thanked her for being the best conversation partner ever, told her that if she ever needed help studying for her sciences next year to call me, and made her promise to grab lunch with me next semester. All in all, I think that having a conversation partner has been a really good experience. I have really gotten to meet a great girl and have learned a lot of extremely interesting things about life outside America

           

             

ESL Conversation 5

For my fifth conversation with Giovanka, we, as usual, met at Union Grounds. As I began asking her how her day was going, she flat out told me “I am very scared.” She always is very dramatic when she talks, so her “I am very scared” really scared me. I began to ask her what she was scared about and what was going on in her life. She explained to me that she was nervous for her English final because she had just taken a practice test and didn’t do so well on her essay. I asked her what the topic was, what she wrote about, and what made her do so poorly on the exam, and realized that all she needed to do was learn how to make a simple outline.

            I love grammar, organizing, and outlining, so this was right up my ally. I showed her how she needs an introduction, three main points, and a conclusion, helped her learn how to come up with topic sentences, and taught her about a thesis statement. She said that she had already learned all of this in her classes, but that she just wasn’t “getting it.” I wrote it all out for her on a piece of notebook paper so she could use it to practice when she studied, but, in the meantime, we decided to make a game out of it. In this “game” I gave her a question or topic to write an essay about and she had to come up with a thesis statement and three main arguing points and write them as an outline (just number them with roman numerals, pretty much) as fast as she could. I gave her some silly topics, some hard ones, some that I knew she would like and others that I knew she would hate (because that's the true test, if you can write about something you don't care about). We actually had a lot of fun playing this game—she was learning and improving and I love teaching so it was perfect. We ended up playing this game until I had to leave for class.

            Giovanka told me that American writing is much different than writing in Brazil. Ours is a lot more structured, while theirs is a lot more flowy and less structured. This is probably why she was having such a problem making distinct paragraphs. After our meeting, though, I hope that she will be able to ace her final and write a brilliant essay. I know she can do it!

ESL Conversation 4

For my fourth conversation with Giovanka, we went to the BLUU for lunch. It is getting harder and harder to set aside an hour to talk so we figured we’d kill two birds with one stone and eat lunch while we had our conversation. When I was reading someone else’s post (I forgot who) they said that they brought a friend to introduce to their conversation partner to see how they interacted. I really liked that idea so I decided to try the same. Giovanka is the same age as me so I figured we’d just eat lunch with my friends and see how she did.

I was SO impressed with how well Giovanka was able to converse with them, pick up on what they were saying, and even make jokes. This ESL conversation actually took a little 180 turn when Giovanka began teaching us how to speak on Portuguese (all I got was oi, meaning hello). Giovanka’s English has improved so much this semester…she is able to express her emotions so well with her words. She has always been very animated so I have always been able to tell what emotion she is trying to evoke but now her words match her physical animation.

Because she is going to be premed next year at TCU, she asked me for advice on what classes to take. When I thought about it, I couldn’t think of anything that would be easy for her, though. She would have to take biology and chemistry, which are hard for everyone, but unlike me, who found psychology extremely easy, classes like that would be so hard for her to sit through because they’re straight lectures in English with barely any reading. I think when we had this conversation it really hit us both just how hard she was going to have to work next year. She, of course, is totally ready to take this challenge and conquer it.

During our conversation, we also talked about food (naturally). She said that she loves America but all she ever does here is eat. In Brazil, she never felt the need and desire to eat as much as she does here. She has especially fallen in love with America’s cookies (especially the BLUU’s infamous ones). She is determined, however, to get back in shape before she returns to Brazil for the summer. She said that she is excited to go back home but will definitely miss peanut butter and cookies and is contemplating taking a whole suitcase of cookies home with her.

I, once again, really enjoyed my conversation with Giovanka and always look forward to the next one. 

1960's Magazine Article

            As I began my search for a magazine article to write about, I wanted to find a magazine that I am actually interested in and, perhaps, something that read today. Once I came across Vogue magazine, I knew that was the place I was going to begin. I flipped through a September 15, 1964 issue of Vogue and found an article on Jane Asher: an actress, entrepreneur, and long-time girlfriend of Beatle, Paul McCartney.

            The article was entitled British Beauty: The New Confidence That’s Catching. It begins explaining how women of that time (and still in our time, I think) are so obsessed with their looks that they practically do their makeup with a magnifying mirror to make it perfect. It also observed that if women are having a “light-makeup” day, all they do is complain and feel self-conscious.

            Contrary to the norm, the article states that Jane Asher just doesn’t care. When asked to describe her look, she says, “I don’t,” an answer the press is not used to hearing. Unlike many women would act, when she began dating Paul McCartney, her look remained exactly the same. When the article speaks on her looks, it says that it remained “pre-Beatle,” which is very shocking because it would be so easy to change and become society’s perfect celebrity.  She didn’t let the world, the press, or the spotlight change who she really was and Vogue (and I) was thoroughly impressed by that. Asher had long, straight, red hair and wore it with pride, although she looked different than the norm. She even had a short brown wig that she wore just for kicks. Asher wore minimal makeup and was still radiant as anyone.

            I would consider this a coming of age article because it takes a kind of maturity to “go against the grain” and be yourself. She was thrust under the spotlight at 18 as an actress, a very formative time in her life, but didn’t let the views of the world change who she was. She had a good sense of who she was from such a young age and was not about to let that go, just to conform to the norm.

            Coming of age is a step in the forward direction in one’s life which oftentimes takes courage, confidence, and faith. I think that Asher exhibited all of these qualities in her decision to remain true to herself and not let society tell her who she should be. Obviously, based on the praises that Vogue gives her, everyone accepted her uniqueness and admired her ability to be herself in such a tough situation. This article, along with the whole magazine, was so interesting to read and compare to today’s Vogue, where, rather than being praised, women who go against the grain and are seen without makeup are highly criticized.

Conversation 3

For my third conversation with Giovanka, we met at Union Grounds for coffee. She was sitting at a table with a friend of hers, Carmen, a junior from Portugal. They talk to each other, Giovanka in Brazilian and Carmen in Portuguese, so they can learn each other’s languages. I find it very interesting and inspiring how intrigued Giovanka is to learn about everything and anything. She is already learning English, one of the hardest languages to learn, but that’s just not enough for her-she casually decided to pick up Portuguese, too. One thing I’ve noticed about her is her drive to learn. She is SO excited to begin at TCU in the fall and learn biology and chemistry, no matter how hard she hears it is going to be. She is willing to spend day in and day out studying in order to achieve her goal and that’s very inspiring to me. She even writes an essay every single day in English just for her own personal benefit to improve her English. It isn’t an assignment or anything, she is just so driven to succeed and learn English that she has the discipline to take the extra step. I think that, because she is from overseas and has come all the way to America for school, she wants to get as much out of her experience as she can. She wants to be the best student, friend, and person she can be here at TCU.

I began asking Giovanka about her friends at TCU. She has a group of foreign friends that she always hangs out with, along with some American friends that she has made from living in Colby. I asked her which group she likes better and she said she likes them both. She enjoys hanging out with her American friends but she feels as though there is a part of her that they don’t understand because she isn’t from here (like how she kisses people goodbye on the cheek and by no means wants to flirt). She reminds me of my mom when she first moved to America for college; she tried and tried to make American friends but no one understood her culture and homesickness like her other foreign friends did and it made her feel more at home.

We began talking about movies-she saw the newest craze, The Hunger Games, and hated it and I have yet to see it and do not plan on seeing it. She has such a caring heart; she said when all the kids were killing each other (sounds like a weird movie if you ask me) she couldn’t stop crying because she hated it so much. We moved on to the movie This Is War, where we both fell in LOVE with Tom Hardy, one of the movie’s main characters. He’s not your typical American guy- he has an accent and a kind of rugged look. I was very happy that she has such good taste, makes all of our conversations so much more fun. All in all, I enjoyed my conversation with Giovanka. She’s always fun to talk to and always so interested to learn new words and get corrected when she talks.

My Favorite Movie- Coming of Age

            If I had to pick the one movie that has impacted my life the most, it would definitely be My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It has played a significantly large role in my coming of age story. I grew up much like Tula, the movie’s main character. Her family was fresh off the boat from Greece, mine was fresh off the boat from Lebanon. While all the other kids went to girl scouts, she went to Greek school and I went to Arabic school. We both were made fun of for bringing ethnic food as our packed lunch for school, rather than a classic PB&J. Both of our parents are as strict as can be, and our families are just not normal, and, to top it off, we are both Orthodox Christians. In the movie, Tula begins as an embarrassed young girl, just as I was when the movie came out. But as it progressed, Tula really grew into herself. She started to embrace her differences and people liked them too.

            When this movie came out, I made all of my friends watch it and it gave them such a clearer understanding of my family, my faith, and of me as a person. It, for some reason, made me feel more comfortable being myself knowing that everyone in the world was going to watch this movie. I would never be the first weirdo with a crazy family and different faith that people saw- they would already have been introduced by My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

            This movie also made me embrace my differences. Once I saw people’s reactions to Tula’s family and life I was more comfortable sharing stories about my family and my church. When I realized that people found that stuff funny and interesting, rather than weird, I became a lot more open and people started getting to understand me a lot better. I was no longer too shy to bring people to church with me or to invite people over for dinner with my family because, let’s face it, nothing could be as embarrassing as Tula’s family.

            The last way My Big Fat Greek Wedding helped me in my “coming of age” is how well it prepared me for what was to come in my life. Unlike Tula’s parents, mine encouraged me to go off to college and grow up on my own, but other than that, the movie has been pretty spot on. Like Greeks, older Arab people are dead set on finding the newest generation husbands right off the bat. Thankfully, my parents are completely opposite of that and encourage me to get an education, career, and waste as much time as I can before I have to settle down, but the people in my church and extended family remind me a lot of Tula’s family. Every time they see me they ask about any new boyfriends (yeah right) and tell me that I need to dress up more and be more focused on making myself presentable. Just like Tula, I have learned to take it all with a grain of salt, smile, and PEACE OUT.

            It’s crazy how such a silly movie can make such a huge impact on my life, but it sure did. Every time I meet someone new and we start becoming friends, I always make sure they have seen that movie before they come over and “meet the family” (all 2093840923 of them). I think realizing that I am not the only person out there with these kinds of cultural differences is really what made me confident in myself and helped me be more open and come out of my shell.

            

A turning point- Coming of Age

I have always been the kind of person to change my career path almost every day. I am interested in so many things but I am not exceptionally passionate about one thing or gifted in a certain subject. All that I have always known is that I want to do something to help people; the thing that has been variable, however, is the means by which I am going to help them. My dad is a doctor, so growing up I always said I wanted to be a doctor (not knowing if it was even right for me, it was just an easy answer). Once I finally got to TCU and declared my major as biology pre-med, my whole world was changed though. I never realized just how much hard work, dedication, and diligence it took to complete the courses required to be a doctor. I had always been a straight A student and was DEFINITELY no longer one after the first biology and chemistry tests I took.  I also never realized how many people were just in it for the money and status and that really didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to be looked at like that and started to question if helping people was really the drive for most doctors.

I completely broke down after my first round of test and SWORE that medicine was not for me and that I was meant to be something else. I went to career services and took all kinds of crazy tests to see what I should be when I grow up, but nothing was helping. I was in the most difficult classes I could imagine and had no drive to succeed-a horrible combination.

My future has always been something that I have prayed about a lot. I have always just asked that God guide me to find my calling and help me find a job where I can do fulfill my role as a Christian. I prayed and prayed and literally nothing changed. I was just doing worse on the tests and getting more and more upset.

One Sunday in early November I was home for the weekend and I was at church with my family. I was, as per usual, just begging that God help me to find what I am supposed to do in life (as you can tell, it was REALLY weighing me down). I “knew” that medicine was not the path for me because no matter how hard I studied I kept on failing, so I was constantly looking for some opportunity or any sign that something was my “thing”. As I was standing in church that Sunday, that “thing” was literally just given to me. We were all standing as the priest read the gospel and suddenly, Aunt Jean (an old lady in the church who isn’t technically anyone’s aunt, but she is just so kind to everyone that’s what we call her) became really dizzy and could no longer see, stand or talk. She stands in the front row so everyone saw what was going on but everyone around her didn’t quite know what to do. Immediately, my dad went over to her row, calmly began trying to talk to her, asked her some questions to try and figure out what was wrong, then carried her to the back of the church and called an ambulance.

Her daughter, our choir director immediately made someone else direct and frantically ran to the back of the church, and her grandson who is the chanter at our church just left to the back in tears. Everyone was so scared and confused as to what was going on. My dad went with the family to the hospital as church continued. I was completely shaken by this. As church progressed, I couldn’t stop thinking about Aunt Jean. Even more so, however, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a help my dad was. He was able to figure out what was wrong with Aunt Jean, he calmed the family down and completely took charge of the situation.

            Maybe this was just me reading too much into every little thing that happened in my life as I looked for answers to my prayers, but at that moment, I realized that being a doctor is so much more than I imagined. In that moment my dad was a counselor, a physician, and a friend. He helped out Aunt Jean’s family all day and continually checked on her for the weeks to come. I took that as the answer to my prayers and ran with it.

After we left church, I had to go back to school. As I was saying goodbye, I looked to my parents and said “guys, I definitely want to be a doctor again.” They looked at me with puzzled faces because I had talked so much about how I hated it and would never be a doctor. They just responded saying whatever makes me happy is what I should do and I left. Since that weekend, I have had a clear goal and have done everything I can to achieve that goal. I may not be the smartest person in my classes (actually I definitely am not), but I have consistently worked so hard in order to achieve my goal. This was a turning point in my life. It gave me a goal and a purpose and has completely been the driving force of my life ever since. Although it seems like a silly story when put into words, it was such a powerful experience.

House on Mango Street

            House on Mango Street has by far been my favorite book of the semester. For some reason it really hit home with me. Although I am nothing like Esperanza, I felt as though I was with her in every step of her coming of age. Aside from the enthralling plot, I love how the novel’s elements of humor are intertwined with the deep and often disturbing stories. As I read House on Mango Street, I was greatly affected by its inferior portrayal of women. There were lines, like “(the Mexicans) don’t like their women strong,” and incidents in the novel portraying how poorly women were treated- that really didn’t sit well with me.

            Just yesterday I was at an AED meeting for pre-health professions where a woman physician, Dr. Naylor, came and spoke to us about her life as a doctor. She was in medical school in the 1960s, a time when, still, not many women went to medical school. When it was time for her to declare her specialty she decided she wanted to be a general surgeon. When she said that, everyone mocked her and brushed it off, knowing that women never became general surgeons because it was too hard. That next semester, Dr. Naylor began her path to becoming a general surgeon as the first and only woman in her class and has never looked back.

            Just like Esparanza, Dr. Naylor did not conform to the sexist views of society, took charge of her own life, and decided to do something bold. All it takes sometimes is just one brave person to change the lives of many. After Dr. Naylor became the first woman general surgeon to graduate UT-Southwestern, many followed-all it took was for one woman to go against the grain and courageously stand up for her rights.

            As the novel progressed, Esperanza’s view of the world became more and more corrupt, and thus, more and more realistic. She saw things and experienced things that no one should have to go through and each time she came out stronger, with even more determination to live her life the way she wanted. She was portrayed as a strong woman, I believe, who saw that the way that she, and all women, were being treated was not okay and decided that she needed a change.

            Coming from a family of two immigrant parents, I know what kind of courage it takes to turn your life around- to turn it from nothing to something. It takes determination, drive, and perseverance to make these dramatic changes and I admire Esperanza, and my parents, for having the ability to do that. Overall, I think House on Mango Street was a very powerful novel and I definitely enjoyed reading it.

Coming of Age: Becoming A Camp Counselor

            Every summer since I was nine years old, I have gone to an Orthodox Christian summer camp called Camp St. Raphael. By far it has always been my favorite place in the world and the one week I look forward to all year. I get to be surrounded by people who share the same beliefs as me, worship the same way as me, and have been raised in similar environments as me. Last summer, however, was the first summer I was old enough to apply to be a counselor so, of course, I did. I applied and a couple of months later found out that I was chosen to be on staff!

Two days before camp began, the last weekend in June to be exact, we had a weekend of staff training. It was a really fun time where we learned what was expected of us and what to do in different situations, while getting to know the rest of our staff. I was the youngest person on staff and one of the only new counselors so, while this was old news for everyone else, it was all new to me. The night before the campers were going to arrive, we were hanging out in our cabins and were told to put on flip-flops and head to the chapel. I walked over there with my friends expecting just another informational talk, but when I looked into the dark chapel, I knew that they had something different in store for us.

We all silently sat on the two long black benches that were facing each other with an aisle in the middle. Everyone was silently praying so I just followed along. A few minutes later, Father James, our camp priest, told us that he was now going to wash our feet with holy water Just as Jesus did to his disciples to make us clean and prepare us to set a path for our campers. At first, this thought was very weird to me. I was confused and more nervous for the process than anything else; I was the last one on the last bench, though, so I had time to watch and learn. As I watched, I saw Father James get on his knees, put holy water on the first person’s bare feet, kiss them, and say forgive me. Once the process sunk in, it hit me. This was a huge deal. He was cleansing me from my past so I could make a clear path for my campers. I was going to be a disciple to these kids and I had to make sure I did it right!

I sat on the bench with my head down waiting for my turn to come. As I was waiting, I began to reflect on myself, my sins, my strengths and my weaknesses. During this time of reflection I came to the realization that I was going to be a role model for the kids at camp and really needed to do my best to live the way that Christ lived- humbly and faithfully. When it finally became my turn, I got my feet cleansed and our staff all stood up and began to sing some of our favorite church songs.

Although this experience may seem insignificant to some, to me it was a huge deal. It was my transition from being a camper, someone who constantly is seeking advice and looking up to everyone, to being a counselor- the one who is supposed to give advice. In our camp, the counselors talk to the campers all year, too, so it has been an ongoing change. It has caused me to grow in so many ways and realize how much my role models have affected me and how I want to be that for my campers. 

Existentialism in TKAM

As I sat down to read To Kill A Mockingbird (TKAM), many memories of freshman year popped into my head. I remembered sitting in Mrs. Bigler’s classroom on the first day of school and having to discuss this book because it was our summer reading. I had read it so intently because I was an overachieving freshman who wanted to blow my teacher away on the first day. As we began our discussion, however, I realized how much I had missed in the book. I had missed the deeper meaning and symbolism that Harper Lee had scattered throughout the novel and my eyes were opened to a whole new way of reading. This was the first book whose symbolism I actually enjoyed and understood and I was really excited to get to read it again.

Reading it again, after 4 years of having to pick apart books and look at the bigger picture, I got so much more out of TKAM. One thing that I think I completely missed when I was a freshman in high school, though, was the existentialism exhibited throughout the novel (probably because I had never heard of existentialism) and how it drives so many of the people’s actions.

One of the biggest examples of existentialism in the novel is how Jem, Scout, and Dill portray Boo Radley. Boo is not bothering them, he has never done anything to make them question him, and he has literally no influence on their lives whatsoever, but for some reason they are fascinated by him. Jem purposely makes up stories about him and, in his mind, turns Boo into a huge mystery. I think this is in part due to the fact that they are from Maycomb, Alabama and it is a small place with not a lot to do. They use what they have around to put meaning in their lives and they do so by wanting to see Boo and playing games having to do with him and his family.

Another example of existentialism is how the entire town is so bent up about Tom’s trial. I do understand that considering the time and place defending a black man is a huge deal, but I do think that the town is overly obsessed with the trial because of their lack of things to do. They, unintentionally, find meaning in their lives by obsessing over Atticus, his family, and the trial. I can imagine this town to be one of those places where word travels fast and nothing goes unnoticed by EVERYONE.

This may be boring to read, but I think existentialism is very interesting so I try and find it everywhere, probably because I come from a small city and I find that oftentimes people obsess over the littlest things to make their lives “worth something.”

Overall, I really loved reading TKAM and have found that reading it after so many years has given me a better understanding of Lee’s tasteful use of literary devices and her ability to make serious things, such as racism, be portrayed in a way that is enjoyable to read.

Three Day Blow

When I sat down to read the Three Day Blow, I was very excited. I love short stories for some reason…maybe because they’re short so the light at the end of the tunnel comes fast but I don’t know- I’ve always loved them. I have also really enjoyed the Nick Adams stories so far. They are seemingly uneventful, but after we read them a few times and dig deep, there is so much meaning inside-I guess that’s what Hemingway’s iceberg theory is all about.

Anyway, I began reading the story and, of course, one of the first things they did was bring out the alcohol. This seems to be a recurring theme in Hemingway’s stories and novels. I knew immediately that alcohol was what I wanted to write my blog about because it just comes up so much in these stories and it kind of bothers me the way that, not only Hemingway’s characters, but people in general use and abuse alcohol.

In the novel, I can see a few reasons why Nick and Bill would want to drink alcohol. I think that they are of similar age as we are-not yet mature, but at the age where you kind of want to be seen as mature- so they drink in order to feel older. That is how a lot of college kids are and I think it is the least destructive use of alcohol that is seen in the novel. Another reason that Nick drinks alcohol is to clear his mind of his problems…this reason for drinking is really one that bothers me. I may be biased because I’ve never drank so I don’t know how “awesome” it feels, but I think using a stimulus to get rid of your problems can only make them worse. When Nick gets used to not feeling his pain from losing Marge due to his alcohol consumption, he feels it ten times harder when he sobers up a little bit and I find that unhealthy and counterproductive. Sure, he gets to feel good for a few hours, but after that, he feels even lousier because he’s felt so good for so long. The last reason I think Nick drinks alcohol is because his father doesn’t and he either does it to experiment or to be despite him. Both of these reasons are very natural responses for adolescents to have, but both can be very dangerous. For a person who has not been introduced to alcohol in a healthy, family setting I think that experimenting with alcohol could end up badly just because they don’t know limits. Nick goes in with the intention to get drunk, which is a very unhealthy mindset that I have seen numerous times throughout the Hemingway stories.

This blog probably seems like a rant but I guess that’s what blogging kind of is and that is really something that caught my attention not only in Three Day Blow but in other Hemingway stories as well. 

Playing A Sport- Coming of Age

            It was a chilly fall morning- the morning that marked the beginning of the end of my high school tennis career, state tennis. I was nervous and excited, but at the same time I was sad. It was bittersweet to see all of my hard work and dedication come to its final execution. My four years on the team had been a roller coaster of an experience but it would all be defined by the tournament we were about to play. Our team was definitely one of the strongest teams in the tournament so all we really had to do was bring our A game. Our biggest competitors had two of their girls not even qualify for state so we were at a great advantage. We had confidence and assurance that we would undoubtedly take first place, especially due to our advantage.

            On the first day of the tournament, however, we did not play as expected. My partner and I lost one of our matches, putting us in the consolation bracket so that the highest we could get was 5^th place, one of our singles players lost both of her matches so she was out of the tournament, our other singles player was also put in the consolation bracket after a tough defeat, and our other doubles team thankfully played well enough for the rest of us and won both of their matches. That evening, we lost all hope. We just wanted the tournament to be over because we knew there was no way we could win after playing like we just had. We literally had handed over the tournament to our biggest competitors.

            After seeing the looks of defeat on our girls, I decided that we needed to do a little “digging” and change our attitudes. Being the senior on our team, I called us all together for a little meeting. I told the girls that we couldn’t give up and that we should just work our hardest to try and get second place (a task that would still be hard to do with our current position in the tournament). It was a really hard talk to have, especially because I was so heartbroken and upset, but I couldn’t let us give the entire tournament away so easily. That night, we all went home with looks of defeat. We wouldn’t talk to anybody and we all just wanted to cry. (I’ll admit I did)

            On the second, and last, day of the tournament, we all came in with a new outlook. We came to play hard, play smart, and have fun. We had no hope of winning so we all just wanted to end our season with a fun day. My partner and I were sent to a different site than the rest of our team so we had no idea what was going on with the other girls. Our first match of the day would probably be the climax of my entire tennis career.

            We began the match playing so horribly I cannot even describe it in words…you just had to be there. We were losing 2-7 and if we lost that match, all hope of even getting second place would be gone. After the sore turned to 2-7 we went to talk to our coach and I was literally fuming. After a few harsh and profane words, my partner, Keli, and I were not going to let another point slip from our hands. We went out there and everything just started to magically click. We won 7 straight games, finishing the match with an AWESOME win at 9-7! After that match, we didn’t look back. We won our next two (tough) matches with ease and confidence and came out of the tournament in 5^th place, the highest we could possibly get after our loss the previous day.

            When we got back to the main site to watch our teammates, we were all so proud of each other. We hadn’t let the previous day get in the way of us having a fun day and it had paid off. My doubles team got 5^th, our other doubles team got 1^st, and our other qualifying singles player got 9^th. We all gathered together and hugged and cheered because we were so proud of ourselves for pulling ourselves together and bringing our A game that day. We still had no hope to win, but honestly, we didn’t even care (that much).

            A minute later, I vividly remember our coach gathering us together to tell us how proud he was of how we played. Unexpectedly, however, the words that came out of his mouth were, “guys, I think we won the tournament by one point.” The way he said it, though, was with such question and uncertainty that we were all confused. After we got over the shock of those few words, we began to scream and hug and were filled with uncontainable happiness

            I do not remember ever being so proud in my life. In just a few hours, we went from having our defeated and disappointed demeanors to being the happiest we had ever been. We literally had no hope, but we promised each other that we would play our best and it worked. It took a lot of hard work and perseverance to get through that second day of the tournament but the outcome was well worth it all. 

Conversation 2

            For my second conversation with Giovanka, we met outside 1873 for coffee. The weather was so beautiful it would have practically been a sin to sit inside. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, something she said was customary in Brazil, and we just started chatting away! We began our conversation by talking about our weeks. She is in 4 classes all about speaking English, so her life is all about reading, writing, talking, and listening, while I am a biology major so most of my time is just memorizing, memorizing, memorizing! I gave her a few tips and hints for biology because next year, she’ll hopefully be taking it too! I can’t wait to help her out next year- I told her she can have all of my notes because I can’t imagine how hard it would be to take biology in a language besides my native language!

            As the conversation progressed, she began telling me about her weekend. She told me she went to a party with her brother, a sophomore finance major here at TCU, and had the shock of her life. She said she had never seen anything like those girls before. She reminded me of myself the first time I went out- just completely shocked. She said that in Brazil people the girls were more conservative than the girls she saw that night, and if they were dressed in short clothes, they acted properly so as not to look trashy. She also said that the dancing that she saw at that party was the kind of dancing that only the really poor, trashy people do and they immediately would get kicked out of parties for doing it in public. In my head I couldn’t help but giggle when she was talking about how shocked she was because I was that same way just a few months ago.

            She proceeded to tell me about all kinds of funny stories that have happened to her while living in the dorms- about how she can’t walk in the Colby stairwell late at night or go to the bathrooms there either because she doesn’t know what she will come across. I am just so glad that she still loves America after all of the culture shocks that she has experienced.

            We then began talking about spring break and, somehow, from there got to the conversation of different countries. She has never been out of Brazil except for being in America. I thought that was very interesting because I thought that people outside America traveled to different surrounding countries like we travel to states, so I found that very interesting. She asked me where I’d visited and then we began looking up pictures of different countries on our phones. It was really interesting to hear what she had to say about all the different countries because, through ESL, she had met people from all over the world and knew so much about different cultures-it’s crazy!

            As our conversation drew to a close, we had come up with so many fun things that we want to do together this semester that I think these 6 conversation meetings won’t be enough to get them all done! Who would have thought this little assignment would lead me to make friends with someone so cool!