Season 4, Episode 2
First off, I've stopped naming these, I hope no one minds.
Second, I want to state very early on that this post has had little to no preparation involved. Seeing as I'm sitting on my bed staring at the three course syllabi I tacked to the wall Monday night and am actively avoiding doing their requested readings at the moment, I hope this proves somewhat productive, but...We'll have to gauge the temperature on that in a bit, I suppose.
Junior year is halfway over.
A weird thought, not entirely foreign but also more than a little strange. I spent a lot of time as a kid looking into mirrors wondering what I would look like when I was 21 (to me there were only three major life stages: 0-15, 16-20, and 21+) because I figured once I hit that mark, everything would be all sorted out in my life. Now I'm looking into mirrors as a 21 year old and just kind of shocked that I'm here. Not that I'm alive, I saw that one coming pretty easily, but that I'm physically in Maryland, that I've got my dream internship lined up for the summer, that I'm studying and learning and working and doing all of these things that on some level or another define adulthood.
Also, I've gotten myself into this weird social psychology conundrum (or at least, that's the best way I can seem to define it) that I'd love to get general input on.
You know that line in "The Room Where it Happens" from Hamilton when Aaron Burr is talking about being left out of all of these political discussions, and he says "No one really knows how the game is played/The art of the trade/How the sausage gets made"? I've been uniquely situated in positions over the last year where I've gotten to be privy to the proverbial "rules of the game" and "trades" that Burr refers to. Having knowledge makes me confident, as I'd assume it does with most people. If you have the logic, facts, and history to back the decisions you're making, it makes it significantly easier to present them, even if they're unpopular. So I've had a year of confidence boosts by way of having intel, you could say.
But I recently realized that outside of those environments I rarely choose to speak out on things that matter to me. It's not that I don't think I'm capable of using my words well enough to get a point across. It's not that I don't think I'm smart enough to have opinions on things. So why am I so reluctant to share them?
Personal analysis here, but I think it's because I don't think I'm the right person to do so. I tend to want to make sure I have as much information as possible on an issue before commenting so I don't look dumb, I've been doing that since I was a kid. But when it comes to an issue that I actually know something about--whether through research or experience--like human trafficking or having an allergy or being a musician, I often shy away from voicing my thoughts when I'm in a group with people I don't know.
Some of my friends have probably heard me talk for hours about music theory at this point, and it's a wonder they haven't told me to shut up about it. But when I walk into a room with people I don't know and someone asks a question that I'm confident I know the answer to I'll still choose to not respond. (This trait of mine made me a terrible scholastic bowl captain in middle school, in case anyone was wondering--I'd have knowledge on some niche of art or literature or dance, and I'd waver in my confidence in front of people I didn't know and choose not to answer on behalf of our team, only to find out that the "foxtrot" or "pointillism" or "C. Auguste Dupin" was in fact the correct answer.)
Anyhow, I've been thinking about it a lot lately in terms of politics. As a Government and Politics major, you'd think by now I would've engaged on some level with my political ideals and morals in class. And I have, but in the most private of ways. When asked to write a position piece on an issue, I'll argue for the side I disagree with most, so as to learn more about the complexities of an argument; when asked to present an (not my) opinion on a topic in class, I often go for the opinion most readily available in my mind. But it's not like I don't have my own stances, and for some reason, I've been feeling kind of stupid about not sharing them more openly and missing out on the opportunity to grow because of that.
To clarify, I'm not going to sit here and list off all of my stances on hot-button issues like abortion and gun control and immigration and climate change. This isn't the time, the place, nor the platform. But I realize that I've held back in a great deal of my classes out of fear of a) being wrong, b) being in the minority, or c) being ridiculed for being either a or b. I'd like to think I'm a bit bigger than stage fright and that I'm capable of being able to defend my opinions.
There's a part of me that wonders if part of that fear of expression comes from the idea that I have to take responsibility for my words, which also seems kind of silly to me. Of course I have to take responsibility for my words, I said them, didn't I?
But if I say something -- whether political or personal -- I have to take ownership of those words because they matter to either myself or others. And that, naturally, is where it gets tricky. Because even if something meant nothing to me as it casually slipped out of my mouth, someone else who heard it was probably impacted.
Personally, I think (or hope) the political reticence is a result of a recognition that words have weight. If I'm going to speak infrequently, then the words I do choose to say better count. It's an approach to general conversation that I've considered a number of times, and then dismissed because I enjoy talking with people too much to censor my every conversation. There is some merit to it though, and coupled with the knowledge that I'm allowed to have/share my opinion makes me feel like this will be an interesting semester.
Speaking of, I'm throwing myself into the deep end on this one. Not in a poor way, I hope, but again, that's a "time will tell" sort of deal. I'm studying for standardized tests, I've got a heck of a lot of reading and writing and analysis coming my way, I'm working, I'm creating, all while still trying to invest in relationships with people I know I don't have much longer with at UMD and remember to practice some moderate level of self-care beyond basic hygiene. So I'm back writing, in case you couldn't tell by this not-even-quarter-life-crisis-esque self analysis. My first calendar has a meeting, interview, or coffee date scheduled for every day of the next two weeks. My second has pictures of London to make me smile. My first planner has my "to-do" list for law school and student-teacher relationships. My second has my "to-do" list for classes and clubs. My third is a mess of just about everything. My wall currently has at least 15 thumbtacks stuck into it, 6 of which hold vines prints, one of which holds a photo from this summer, and the rest of which hold up important materials--syllabi, required readings, notes from a job interview, dates that I need to have things done by....
All this to say, it'll be a busy semester. I'm excited for where it'll take me, but I anticipate all sorts of surprises.
I'm also attempting to try (in the midst of this) a pretty radical schedule of rest. After seeing what Shabbat looked like in Israel, I was more than a little in awe of how seriously the concept of rest was taken. I can't bring myself to step away from work for longer than a few hours, in most cases, so how in the world did these people manage to do it for a whole day? But in observing the opportunity that people had to rest, to engage with their family, to love their community, I was inspired and appreciative.
I don't usually rest during the school year. Honestly, my instinct is to say I don't know how to. But I know that I do, it's just been pushed deep deep down underneath "learn to play another instrument" and "get a fan for your room"-- in a box with things that would be great or fun or cool to do, but aren't absolutely necessary. Except, well...rest kind of is. So, in true Amanda Fiddler (TM) spirit, I'm challenging myself to actually do it. I also recognize that unless I plan on making other people drive me to church every week, I won't be able to fully step away from all work, but I'm trying to make a distinct effort to put away my laptops, journals, test prep books, and highlighters for 24 hours to be able to breathe, relax, and recalibrate myself for the next week. I'll probably have an update on how this is going within the next week or so, as time management seems to be a big factor in this plan.
I have at least three other topics that I had considered writing about in this post (see: didn't plan this) but I settled for this one, so I hope on some level the content of what I've written was relevant and coherent to someone.
I know this was all over the place, it kind of reads like a transcript of my subconscious to me, so that's fun, but in the event that you weren't a fan...Sorry?
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Suggestions? Let me know!
Signing off,
Amanda
Second, I want to state very early on that this post has had little to no preparation involved. Seeing as I'm sitting on my bed staring at the three course syllabi I tacked to the wall Monday night and am actively avoiding doing their requested readings at the moment, I hope this proves somewhat productive, but...We'll have to gauge the temperature on that in a bit, I suppose.
Junior year is halfway over.
A weird thought, not entirely foreign but also more than a little strange. I spent a lot of time as a kid looking into mirrors wondering what I would look like when I was 21 (to me there were only three major life stages: 0-15, 16-20, and 21+) because I figured once I hit that mark, everything would be all sorted out in my life. Now I'm looking into mirrors as a 21 year old and just kind of shocked that I'm here. Not that I'm alive, I saw that one coming pretty easily, but that I'm physically in Maryland, that I've got my dream internship lined up for the summer, that I'm studying and learning and working and doing all of these things that on some level or another define adulthood.
Also, I've gotten myself into this weird social psychology conundrum (or at least, that's the best way I can seem to define it) that I'd love to get general input on.
You know that line in "The Room Where it Happens" from Hamilton when Aaron Burr is talking about being left out of all of these political discussions, and he says "No one really knows how the game is played/The art of the trade/How the sausage gets made"? I've been uniquely situated in positions over the last year where I've gotten to be privy to the proverbial "rules of the game" and "trades" that Burr refers to. Having knowledge makes me confident, as I'd assume it does with most people. If you have the logic, facts, and history to back the decisions you're making, it makes it significantly easier to present them, even if they're unpopular. So I've had a year of confidence boosts by way of having intel, you could say.
But I recently realized that outside of those environments I rarely choose to speak out on things that matter to me. It's not that I don't think I'm capable of using my words well enough to get a point across. It's not that I don't think I'm smart enough to have opinions on things. So why am I so reluctant to share them?
Personal analysis here, but I think it's because I don't think I'm the right person to do so. I tend to want to make sure I have as much information as possible on an issue before commenting so I don't look dumb, I've been doing that since I was a kid. But when it comes to an issue that I actually know something about--whether through research or experience--like human trafficking or having an allergy or being a musician, I often shy away from voicing my thoughts when I'm in a group with people I don't know.
Some of my friends have probably heard me talk for hours about music theory at this point, and it's a wonder they haven't told me to shut up about it. But when I walk into a room with people I don't know and someone asks a question that I'm confident I know the answer to I'll still choose to not respond. (This trait of mine made me a terrible scholastic bowl captain in middle school, in case anyone was wondering--I'd have knowledge on some niche of art or literature or dance, and I'd waver in my confidence in front of people I didn't know and choose not to answer on behalf of our team, only to find out that the "foxtrot" or "pointillism" or "C. Auguste Dupin" was in fact the correct answer.)
Anyhow, I've been thinking about it a lot lately in terms of politics. As a Government and Politics major, you'd think by now I would've engaged on some level with my political ideals and morals in class. And I have, but in the most private of ways. When asked to write a position piece on an issue, I'll argue for the side I disagree with most, so as to learn more about the complexities of an argument; when asked to present an (not my) opinion on a topic in class, I often go for the opinion most readily available in my mind. But it's not like I don't have my own stances, and for some reason, I've been feeling kind of stupid about not sharing them more openly and missing out on the opportunity to grow because of that.
To clarify, I'm not going to sit here and list off all of my stances on hot-button issues like abortion and gun control and immigration and climate change. This isn't the time, the place, nor the platform. But I realize that I've held back in a great deal of my classes out of fear of a) being wrong, b) being in the minority, or c) being ridiculed for being either a or b. I'd like to think I'm a bit bigger than stage fright and that I'm capable of being able to defend my opinions.
There's a part of me that wonders if part of that fear of expression comes from the idea that I have to take responsibility for my words, which also seems kind of silly to me. Of course I have to take responsibility for my words, I said them, didn't I?
But if I say something -- whether political or personal -- I have to take ownership of those words because they matter to either myself or others. And that, naturally, is where it gets tricky. Because even if something meant nothing to me as it casually slipped out of my mouth, someone else who heard it was probably impacted.
Personally, I think (or hope) the political reticence is a result of a recognition that words have weight. If I'm going to speak infrequently, then the words I do choose to say better count. It's an approach to general conversation that I've considered a number of times, and then dismissed because I enjoy talking with people too much to censor my every conversation. There is some merit to it though, and coupled with the knowledge that I'm allowed to have/share my opinion makes me feel like this will be an interesting semester.
Speaking of, I'm throwing myself into the deep end on this one. Not in a poor way, I hope, but again, that's a "time will tell" sort of deal. I'm studying for standardized tests, I've got a heck of a lot of reading and writing and analysis coming my way, I'm working, I'm creating, all while still trying to invest in relationships with people I know I don't have much longer with at UMD and remember to practice some moderate level of self-care beyond basic hygiene. So I'm back writing, in case you couldn't tell by this not-even-quarter-life-crisis-esque self analysis. My first calendar has a meeting, interview, or coffee date scheduled for every day of the next two weeks. My second has pictures of London to make me smile. My first planner has my "to-do" list for law school and student-teacher relationships. My second has my "to-do" list for classes and clubs. My third is a mess of just about everything. My wall currently has at least 15 thumbtacks stuck into it, 6 of which hold vines prints, one of which holds a photo from this summer, and the rest of which hold up important materials--syllabi, required readings, notes from a job interview, dates that I need to have things done by....
All this to say, it'll be a busy semester. I'm excited for where it'll take me, but I anticipate all sorts of surprises.
I'm also attempting to try (in the midst of this) a pretty radical schedule of rest. After seeing what Shabbat looked like in Israel, I was more than a little in awe of how seriously the concept of rest was taken. I can't bring myself to step away from work for longer than a few hours, in most cases, so how in the world did these people manage to do it for a whole day? But in observing the opportunity that people had to rest, to engage with their family, to love their community, I was inspired and appreciative.
I don't usually rest during the school year. Honestly, my instinct is to say I don't know how to. But I know that I do, it's just been pushed deep deep down underneath "learn to play another instrument" and "get a fan for your room"-- in a box with things that would be great or fun or cool to do, but aren't absolutely necessary. Except, well...rest kind of is. So, in true Amanda Fiddler (TM) spirit, I'm challenging myself to actually do it. I also recognize that unless I plan on making other people drive me to church every week, I won't be able to fully step away from all work, but I'm trying to make a distinct effort to put away my laptops, journals, test prep books, and highlighters for 24 hours to be able to breathe, relax, and recalibrate myself for the next week. I'll probably have an update on how this is going within the next week or so, as time management seems to be a big factor in this plan.
I have at least three other topics that I had considered writing about in this post (see: didn't plan this) but I settled for this one, so I hope on some level the content of what I've written was relevant and coherent to someone.
I know this was all over the place, it kind of reads like a transcript of my subconscious to me, so that's fun, but in the event that you weren't a fan...Sorry?
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Suggestions? Let me know!
Signing off,
Amanda
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