Educational Awakening: Hyde Park Academy

My father used to tell me that education is all about building blocks. When I was younger he would wax eloquent about building a “strong foundation” so as not to limit my options later on. Thankfully his message eventually sank in—at least in so far as I, often begrudgingly, did my homework and tried to do my best. I learned to add, and then multiply, then to perform algebra, and finally to understand theoretical calculus. In retrospect I understand that I really was building an educational tower. Any failure to fully grasp addition or algebra would have left me unequipped to perform as a student of mathematics later down the road. It’s like that game Jenga, wherein the whole tower relies completely on a few blocks for support. Today I was reminded, in the most tangible sense possible, that not everyone had the pleasure of being raised by my father, not everyone has the Jenga tower I have been blessed with.

​In his book More Than Just Race, sociologist William Julius Wilson breaks down a number of issues relevant to urban poverty. In his discussion on the vicious cycle of educational underachievement Wilson uses the analogy of the NFL draft. Imagine if you will, he says, that when a team wins the Super Bowl they then get first (rather than last) pick in the subsequent draft. This would most certainly, and in short order, product teams of vastly inequitable talent distribution with a small percentage of victorious franchises dominating the game with all the talent, many in the middle, and the rest with the leftovers, continually failing, at the bottom of the heap with no hope of ever coming out on top. This seems ridiculous, does it not? This is why in the NFL teams who win the Super Bowl don’t get first draft pick. The frustrating part of this is, although the powers that be in the NFL seem to understand this equalization dynamic, the people who designed our educational institutions do not.
Mr. Heinz, a math teacher at Hyde Park Academy on the south side of Chicago, reminded me of Wilson’s NFL/education dilemma yesterday. He explained how in Chicagoland special schools admit only the highest performing students, a secondary bracket takes the ones who barely missed the first, and magnets and charters pick up a majority of the rest. This leaves neighborhood schools like Hyde Park Academy somewhere like “the lurch.” They constantly get the lowest performing students, students who, by the time they enter high school, want to be just about anywhere other than school. Moreover, they are essentially punished – read: reorganized –every few years in an attempt and make the school perform “up to par.” It is a vicious cycle. It is exactly this type of outmoded, illogical education policy that created the de facto segregation and generational poverty which is so prevalent in America’s urban core.

I’ve been in Chicago just over 48 hours now and have been struck (aside from by my first blizzard experience not occurring in a Dairy Queen) by issues concerning urban education. As someone who has lived the majority of their life about as far right politically as one can get, the seemingly obvious solutions scare me in their ostensible liberalism. Tonight, over dinner, I had a conversation which laid a capstone for my first few days—at least in an ideological sense. Whilst consuming our crunchy salads and delicious chili-pasta a few fellow Furman students and I came to the conclusion that education is pretty screwed up. (People wiser than me have known this for some time now, but it was something of a breakthrough on my end.) We spent quite a bit of time talking about effective after school opportunities for engagement, and—returning to the Jenga example—the effect that strong homes, families and other externalities have on early childhood development. But in the end we came to something of an interesting conclusion. We felt like it all came down to empathy.

Obviously education fails quite a few students; I would argue most students (I might be seen by many as “successful” on the educational frontier but I don’t crack much of that up to the structure of my education.) If we want to truly change the way that education happens on an individual level we have to think from an empathetic vantage point. Wilson, and for that matter, Mr. Heinz, would have us see poverty as a by-product of some intersection of structural and cultural factors. While these are valid and true aspects of the problem, it really boils down to ineffective education at the institutional level. This means that reorganization and reallocation will continue be insufficient as a means of tackling this, most curious, of dilemmas.

So what? Insofar as I can see (bearing in mind I have no PhD) the solution is linear and is two-fold. 1) In the short term American education—specifically urban education –has to provide superior surrogate role models for its students, enhance offerings rather than removing programs, and focus on foundations. 2) in the long term, the entire system needs to be dissolved and reestablished; yes this is drastic, but these are people’s lives that we as a society are failing by our inaction. This rejuvenation must include the destruction of standardized learning with focus shifting rather to exploratory, modular classrooms rather than the iron rule of the curriculum.

​Fixing education is not going to come quickly, simply, or painlessly. It’s one of the many problems that cannot be solved by throwing cash in its direction. It would take multiple books to substantiate the conclusions that I have outlined above and come to over the past 48 hours. Therefore, please don’t read this as my arrogant ravings from the ivory tower, but rather find above the delineation of a change in heart for me.

#HAVOClife

I have been living in a world set apart for the past few days. To set this stage to explain this you should know that ever since we started back after fall break Furman has been steeped in the sights and sounds of homecoming. Greek life is everywhere you look; constructing terrific floats, turning the cement in front of the DH into fantastic murals, and decorating banners that are truly impressive. That tends to be the typical homecoming experience. But the thing is, though I’m planning on pledging a fraternity later this year, we have delayed rush here so that won’t take place until second semester so I’m not really a part of any of those competitions. As a matter of fact, most of the freshman don’t play a big part in homecoming week at all, aside from the game, carnival, and dance it’s almost a non event for most of them. Unless…

this is the poster we were talking about earlier, remember?

A few weeks ago I saw a poster hanging up on the bulletin board by the entrance to Blackwell, my dorm building. I have included it over to the side. Naturally I dug around on the furman website, interested to see what exactly “HAVOC” was I happened upon some old blogs and student news postings. I still had a ton of questions, I still really had no idea what it was. I walked down the hall to my RA’s room where I found out that HAVOC is an absolutely insane homecoming competition that no one in their right mind would ever think could be fun. But somehow I found myself considering it. I asked around and ended up talking to a few people who were on it last year, they all strongly encouraged me to do it.

In high school I got to a point by my senior year where I was comfortable. I could say what came to mind and be 110% myself, but when I first arrived at Furman I came in a little quiet. I was kinda shy. I think it stemmed from my testing the waters in an attempt to figure out just how it all (college) worked, and by the time I was comfortable I had lived into a pretty standoffish routine. I’m not a natural extrovert, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE being around people, It’s just not where I get my energy from. I knew if I ever wanted to get back to senior year AJ I would have to take some drastic measures. This seemed like a drastic enough measure. Half terrified/half excited I signed up for HAVOC.

At this point it may be helpful if I tell you exactly what HAVOC entails. The best way I think I can describe it is as a combination of Survivor and America’s Next Top Model. (Just try to put those two concepts together and you are starting to get how crazy this is.) After applying, if you are accepted to compete, a member of FUSAB (Furman University Student Activities Board) will post a note on your door telling you an initial time and place to be for the first challenge. For me it was the steps of the library at 10:30. That’s where It all began.

a promotional poster I made and used on my Facebook support page

We were to arrive dressed in our costumes (I was SpongeBob – you can see my adaptation of the poster off to the left) and come with everything we would need for the week including an empty bag to fill with cash we would be raising for our charities (mine was The Street Child Project). I showed up with a backpack full of books, a sleeping bag, ground pad, money sack, sweatshirt and some toiletries. All 16 of us had to get up and present a speech introducing ourselves to the on looking crowd. I lead them all in a rousing rendition of the SpongeBob Theme Song, everyone thoroughly enjoyed it! After the competition the first two competitors were sent home, the rest of us were taken to our new home for the remainder of the week, a big homemade tent by the fountains, on the mall.

  1. You must remain in your costume at all times.
  2. No showering.
  3. You are allowed three 10 min bathroom breaks a day.
  4. When not in class you must be in the tent, with the exception of 7-9 AM: Breakfast, 11:30-2:30 PM: Lunch, and 7:30-9 PM Dinner when we must be in the dining hall.
  5. Every night 1 or 2 people will be eliminated based on their performance in the challenge and 1 person will be voted off by the other HAVOC-ers
  6. To make sure all these rules are enforced a member of the FUSAB team will babysit the group 24/7

The HAVOC kids with comedian and YouTube personality GloZell (for real)

Now do you understand why I may have been just a little insane to do HAVOC? The risk of urinary tract infection from restraining to use the restroom, loss of friends due to sheer constantly growing stink, and promise of academic failure as studying would really not be a realistic option were all very probably outcomes. Somehow I made it through, I did not lose any of the challenges, but I did get voted off (I was too much of a threat I guess.) 6th place out of 16 really isn’t that bad at all! For me it was not about the glory of winning, or the cash prize (up to $1000 for first place) but was instead about coming out of my shell and meeting some new people. I definitely came out of my shell and I absolutely met some amazing people. (including GloZell, as in “my push-up bra helps me get my man” – pictured on the left.) I could not have asked for a better week, or more accurately half week. Definitely among the top 10 greatest experiences of my entire life.

PS: Dear prospective Furman student, whatever other school you are looking at does not have HAVOC. Keep that in mind, seeing as HAVOC is amazingly awesome, that should tip the scale in a BIG way.

FAQ: Why is my blog titled “#HAVOClife“? During our long hours in “Da Tent” as it came to be called us HAVOC-ers developed crippling twitter addictions, so much so that people threatened to unfollow me. Click the above link to see our hashtag trending.

PPS: Included below is an inspiring song, (or at least to me.) I tried to make it just a regular soundtrack but I couldn’t get my website to play nice with the file so enjoy the video!

My Other House Is a Bungalow

Two Weeks by Grizzly Bear

It seems like September is the time for retreats around Furman. Almost every weekend now some group is going off campus to bond together. It seems like everyone it trying to fit them in before the weather gets too cold and outdoor activities are still an option. I have been on two such retreats just over the past two weekends and they are wonderfully fun opportunities to make new friends and grow closer to people I have started to get to know. The only problem with going away for an entire weekend of relaxation and fun is that when I return all the weekend’s course work is still sitting right where I left it, on my desk, waiting to be started.

My group fails to remain on the platform, after attempting to hold each other on by way of a giant man-hug we all collapse together.

One of the organizations that I’m pretty heavily involved in here on campus is known as the “Shucker Leadership Institute.” When I tell people this around here they usually don’t know what I am talking about, because apparently the SLI is not something on their radar, which probably comes mostly from the fact that the program is selective and  the application process takes place before your freshman year, so a lot of people don’t really pick up on the fact that the application is even out there, much less what the program is about and why they should apply. For your information, directly from their website, the SLI’s mission is to “Foster the development of student leaders while emphasizing self-knowledge, initiative, commitment, collaboration and experiential learning; to promote the ideals of citizenship and community service; and to extend the opportunity and duty of leadership to all individuals within the Furman community and beyond.” I strongly encourage you to apply, because, although I’m only a few meetings into the year, I can tell already that it’s going to be a valuable experience to have had.

Anyhow, all that backstory is to say that for one of the first group events we all piled into vans and drove up to a ropes course just outside of Charlotte. This was a crazy fun trip. In the morning we started off here on campus (far too bright an early) and everyone was awkward because no one really knew one another but as the day wore on and we found ourselves completing interesting tasks and activates which required us to work more and more as a team the group grew closer and closer together. (One of these activities landed me in a split which was so wide the group let out an audible gasp when I suddenly found myself in it. Apparently I’m quite limber.) By the end of the day we were all talking and joking happily together at dinner like we had known each other far longer than just a few hours.

The SLI retreat was quite fun, and I really enjoyed getting to know everyone. But it was nothing in comparison to this past weekend.

This past Friday night I dropped everything I was working on (this week I have two tests and a presentation, so quite a lot) and headed up to beautiful Camp Greystone for RUF fall conference. For those of you who don’t know, RUF stands for Reformed University Fellowship, fall is a time of year, and a “conference” is when a bunch of people get together to talk about something of common interest. – Now that we’re all on the same page I can go on.

The weekend was amazing. Campus ministry is probably the place where I will find myself connecting most to other people over my 4 years here at Furman; that certainly has been the case so far. It wasn’t one of those mountaintop revivals; there was no altar call, it was just a perfect excuse to gather together as a community of believers and grow closer to God and one another.

Now, I’m not sure how religious I’m allowed to get here on the Furman blog, but if you are the kind of person who is interested in coming to a school with a thriving Christian culture Furman is your place. RUF is one of tens of groups we have for you to find your niche in; from Baptist student groups to FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes) to Catholic student groups to Mere Christianity Forum (which allows for open dialogue about all spiritual matters) and everything in between. If you come to Furman and desire a group of like-minded believers you will find it. There’s just so many options people spend weeks trying to find out where they best fit in.

RUF-ers from the amazing brother/sister hall duo of Poteat 100 and Blackwell Base! "Who's the best? GO WEST!"

Anyhow, my Presbyterian-meets-nondenominational background fit RUF like a glove. The group is passionate about what they believe but also passionate about having fun. This weekend was filled with, photoshoots, ENO-ing (using an Eagle’s Nest hammock), playing intense games of Jim-Ball (if I try to describe it I’ll just sound like an idiot so just try to imagine a cross between dodge ball and four square played inside a large wooden octagon and you’re starting to get the picture) theological conversations by the lake, amazing taco making picnics, a crazy dance party which met RAVE with swing dancing, a bonfire with all you can eat s’mores, and of course an amazing message by Les Newsom and super wonderful music by the Furman RUF band! (If you want to find out more about RUF at Furman click here, if you want to hear some of the message from this weekend or any Thursday night meeting click here, and if you want to find out about other religious organizations click here.)

You may now be wondering why you have reached the end and still do not know why the title of this post is “My Other House Is a Bungalow” out of compassion I have decided not to leave you in the dark to invent an answer for yourself as was my first inclination but rather to tell you that it was a sticker on the door of our bathroom in Lower Bungalow 3 this past weekend at RUF. I thought it was catchy… so there you go.

Turning the Corner: First Weekend Part 1

Biking is so relaxing. Just you and the wind and the trees, the endless up and down of your feet, and the predictable sound of the whirring and clicking of gears. When the trail is flat and the ride is peaceful I love it. Usually I’m not a biker. But yesterday I did 11+ miles. I know aren’t you proud of me? I didn’t even die! Anyhow, the point of the excursion was to go to the saturday market down on main street but the trip turned into so much more.

Before I went to bed on Friday night I looked at myself in the mirror and thought “AJ, are you seriously gonna bike into town 5 whole miles?! You must be crazy!” (at that point I thought it was 5 miles round trip… not each way.) But, despite my better judgement and lack of physical prowess, I went ahead and did it.

Saturday morning dawned sunny and warm, not like yucky warm where there’s lots of sweat and humidity but a good summertime warm; the kind of warm that makes you thank God you live in the south so you can experience such a beautiful day.

When we arrived downtown the market was already bustling with people out enjoying the fresh produce, coffee, and other goodies from the booths that lined the street on both sides. My friends and I walked down surveying all the options before we made our purchases. When we reached the end of the street one of the last booths was from “Banana Manna,” fresh banana bread. Score. I knew immediately that this was the first place I wanted to try.

The owner of Banana Manna, Chancey, is probably one of the nicest people I have met in Greenville so far. On top of that, she had more energy than any other booth we visited that day. She made banana bread SO EXCITING!

When we walked up we were greeted warmly, like family, and given a sample of classic banana bread on a tooth-pick. Once we had savored the wonders of each of our morsels Chancey described the other loaves in such mouth-watering detail it was hard to choose just one. But when the time came to “flip and dip” (turn the toothpick over and get another sample) it was very clear I wanted to try the Fully Loaded. The Fully Loaded is so much more than your ordinary banana bread: it has coconuts, raisins, and some other nuts. Basically it’s just NUTS! (nuts as in crazy.) I ended up buying a whole loaf of it (which I am currently consuming.)

After our amazing experience with our new friend at Banana Manna we finished our loop of the market, buying smoothies (I got a peach protein concoction) and running into our friend Reece from The Generous Garden Project. My day had been made on so many occasions I can’t even explain it!

Right about the time we were about to leave my friend Maddi got the idea to take a picture of our little group to celebrate the adventure (and to post on her blog, we’re both Furman Bloggers) and I suggested that we take it with our new friend Chancey from Banana Manna. So, our little group hiked back up the street to visit our favorite booth all over again. We reintroduced ourselves and asked if we could take a photo in exchange for a shameless plug on our blogs. A deal was made.

AJ’s Shameless Plug: You, reader. Yeah you. I’m talking to you. head on over to bananamanna.com and order something. No, seriously. I’m not joking. And if you live in Greenville: this saturday, don’t wait, don’t procrastinate, just go. See my friend Chancey, bring $10 and get yourself 2 loaves of the most delicious banana bread you have ever put into your mouth. I can promise you, you will love it. 100% Guaranteed. 

After our more than exceedingly wonderful time at the market we walked over to gorgeous Falls River Park. We sat and talked, the Reedy River babbling away in the background. We climbed around the waterfall and at every step I realized how blessed I am to be here, at Furman, living in Greenville. It’s a place like no other.

Eventually we returned to where we had locked up the bikes and began to head out. Across the river from where we were there was a band playing, and at first I wasn’t sure exactly what songs they were performing, but after a few seconds a big smile came across my face as I realized that it was praise music! The concert in the park had a water tent and we all needed to refill our bottles before we headed out so we biked over. The second we arrived my day was made once again. They began playing one of my all time favorite praise and worship songs. “God of this City.” Take a listen:

Isn’t it wonderful? Their version was more rock and roll but the song is equally moving no matter which way you play it. Coincidence? I think not. One of my favorite songs, being played at an amphitheater in the park, by a river with geese flocking out behind the stage off the water like on a movie set. Oh and did I mention: I later looked up the event “The Hinge” - it happens ONCE A YEAR. Theres no way that was a coincidence. Just no way. It was far too uplifting at the perfect time for me to not be one more reassurance that this is exactly where I needed to be.

However, there was homework to be done and almost 6 miles to be biked back, so we couldn’t stay all day. So, grudgingly, we departed. Only to run into a group of new Furman friends coming into the event as we exited. It was an exciting moment, I realized right then that I was developing a community. I was finally getting comfortable, making friends, and participating in things!. I was TURNING THE CORNER!

Detached, Slightly

(Listen to Young Blood by The Naked and Famous as you read)

Detached, adjective

Marked by an absence of emotional involvement and an aloof, impersonal objectivity.

That’s where I am now. In a state of constant “in-between.” I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have departed the world I once inhabited, the world filled with the comforts of home and with everything I once knew for certain. I am also sure that I have not yet arrived in the promised land of happiness and freedom promised by this college experience. I feel as if I waited all year to see the new Harry Potter movie but upon arrival found out that the film was starting two hours late. And since I’m at this metaphorical showing of HP7 all alone, this delay causes me to have to babble on in small talk to complete strangers for quite some time, attempting to be kind but knowing at some point the movie will indeed start and there will be no guarantee that our paths will ever cross again. Do you see how perfect of a metaphor this is for my current plight? The trailers were great, the reviews were awesome, it’s just this waiting for the whole thing to start that’s killing me.

Don’t let any of this come off as negative. I mean I don’t regret coming to Furman, I’m still totally sure its exactly the place I’m supposed to be right now. But like I said, I keep “waiting for the movie to start” and I know that it will; its only that its going to be a few months before I have meaningful friendships and am involved passionately in wonderful activities.

I do believe that this past week has been one of the most interesting sequences of events I have yet experienced in my short 19 years of life. In many ways it was fabulous, and in many ways it was terribly frustrating. The enigma that is Orientation, or “O-Week,” as we so lovingly call it here, is an experience like no other. Coming in to the whole thing I knew maybe 20 people or so, which I guess, was an improvement over those people who knew absolutely no one. Honestly, I am eternally thankful for Furman’s Lilly Center for their Summer Connections program which got me comfortable with campus and enabled me to build relationships before I came to orientation. I don’t know where I would be otherwise. Sidebar: if you ever have the chance to go to this program, don’t hesitate to do it; no matter what your feelings are on spiritual things, the program is great for doing exactly what its title claims: making Connections. (For more about my experience at Connections read my post “Something New and Different.”)

Constantly overwhelmed was how I felt the majority of O-Week. I guess coming into the first day I expected to be able to be outgoing and crazy just like I was at Connections. I think the major difference between the two events was the number of people. It’s a lot harder to be socially successful when you suddenly find yourself surrounded by 800+ people than when the group is only 20. But I managed, with the help of the relationships I had already built and by adding a few more, to not find myself alone all too often.

Its exceedingly hard to give context to the whole week; I would need to go on for pages to tell every story, but I think the best way to break down the whole experience is to give you a few highlighting stories in the form of daily summaries.

  • I’m not really sure what I expected from “My first day of college.” Whatever it was, that’s not what happened. I ended up speed-dating on my sister hall. Yes, it is as absurd and awkward as it sounds, but at the same time it is such a wonderful and fun way to break the ice. Here’s the way it works: all the boys split up into groups of 2 or 3 and the girls do the same, only the girls remain in their rooms while the boys rotate from room to room down the hall. In each room, you are given 5 minutes to introduce yourself and talk about whatever you want. (Usually the first 1.5 minutes was devoted to awkward introductions followed by the remaining 3.5 minutes—of which at least an entire minute was silence—being taken up by bumbling questions about intended majors and interests and hometowns.) The drill was pretty similar in each room. Oh, and one more catch. All us boys were dressed up in ridiculously tacky outfits. Picture this: I wore self-adapted American Eagle “jorts,” a plaid shirt from Urban Outfitters with every color you might find in a very large Crayola box on it, a Brooks Brother’s bowtie checked in red and blue, and big fake hipster glasses I found at Walmart for $3.   This event was followed by a soccer game during which I proceed to get a migraine. I eventually ended up hanging out with some of my friends from Connections and watching Mean Girls until 2 AM.
  •  Much of Saturday was devoted to meetings and gatherings of some sort or another. After sending my parents home a little after lunch I began to notice something strange. All over campus, on the roads, patios, and sidewalks, the message “BLACKOUT 10:59” was printed. The first few times I walked over it I just ignored it, thinking it didn’t apply to me. But then people started to talk. Started to wonder what it was. Eventually the evening came and it was time to preform our hall’s skit. Our theme is Oregon Trail and so our skit was similar to the game, except for that our wagon had shiny tin foil wheels and hydraulics and the square dancing music was replaced by the song “Ridin’ Dirty.” It’s awesome, I know. After our skit was dangerously successful, we were ushered quickly back to our rooms and told to put on all black. We all did so and with bated breath we waited in the hall way for what would happen next. After quite some time we made the 15 or 20 minute walk up past north village, and around the lake to the amphitheater. When we walked up we could hear music playing. All 30 some guys on our hall walked into the dimly lit grass amphitheater starting to get an idea of what was going to happen. When the clock struck 10:59 all the lights and music cut off. All of a sudden the O-Staff came rushing out from behind the stage all in white and covered in glow-sticks. They threw them into the crowd, the music returned— louder this time, and we all rushed the stage. The party exploded in that place for the next hour, a truly energizing and fun event. The evening concluded with a Community marathon, again until 2 AM with friends.
  • Sunday was the day of the actual orientating. We watched skits cautioning us about the dangers of all kinds of issues we would encounter in college, and we had sessions on diversity and campus safety. All in all a fairly boring afternoon. The evening was concluded however by a field fest! The entire freshman class went out to a big rec field on campus and we played crazy games where we competed with other halls in tasks such as: build a human pyramid while people dump 5 gallon buckets of water on you in an attempt to knock you down, pass an entire bag of oranges down a long line of people one by one only using your chin and then squeeze those same oranges into a cup which the last person must drink entirely, or even getting a lifesaver to pass down a chain of 20 or so people only using a toothpick held in your lips.  Crazy, huh? Oh wait, one more thing. Sunday night of orientation marks the celebration of one of Furman’s longest honored traditions: The Midnight Serenade. Basically what happens is that all the male freshman go from balcony to balcony at each of the dorms and sing classic songs like “Brown Eye’d Girl,” “L-O-V-E,” and “I Want it That Way” while the women toss down candy in appreciation. Definitely one of my favorite parts of the whole week.
  • On Monday there were more meetings but the evening ended in a tour of and picnic at the president’s house. This large mansion has a lot of history to it. We were told countless stories about things which happened in the house: suicides, birthings, secret passages, and the inspiration for the movie Mary Poppins. I was thoroughly traumatized after the whole tour. (By my count at least 6 people died in and were being memorialized by sections of the house)  As it turns out it was all an elaborate farce. Seriously, I ate it up, even asked questions and nodded solemnly at all the right parts. The whole thing, all the stories, were lies! Apparently another Furman tradition. The evening ended with a movie in the amphitheater which had more than quite a few technical difficulties but was entertaining nonetheless.
  • Tuesday was again meetings and interviews and many “tomorrow is the first day of class” preparations. It was a very relaxing day with free time and a carnival at the end! Unfortunately I rode the upside down swinging device that sounded like it was going to shatter in half one too many times because I came back to the room with quite the tummy ache, but excited for the first day of class.
  •  On Wednesday August 24, 2011 I turned 19! Honestly I did not know what to expect. I was really leaning toward the “worst birthday ever” theory simply because not a lot of people knew me yet and everything was still very unfamiliar. But as it turned out, it was quite the fantastic day. It began bright and early at 7:30 AM with my friends Julia and Lauren stealing balloons from another girl’s door, putting my name on them, and hanging them outside my room! Then I had class, but it was not like high school at all- on Wednesday I have two 50 min classes and I am done around 10! I came back to the room and folded laundry while I caught up on some Parenthood. Lunch with friends and then when I came back to the room my girlfriend had somehow managed to send via her parents, sister and my FRAD and RA, balloons and candy! I had a little party in my room with the chocolates while listening to some Aziz Ansari. During dinner some of my friends from Connections came over and brought me a women’s deep v shirt which I was forced to wear in the middle of the crowded DH, much to my simultaneous embarrassment and joy. At around 11:45 I became the first member of the class of 2015 to be subject to another age-old Furman tradition. Laking. The tradition gives the friends of any person having a birthday the right and responsibility to forcibly throw that person into the dirty and quite possibly radioactive lake. It took me a good half hour in the shower to remove all traces of the experience from my body. But I think it definitely made my day.
  • Thursday was characterized by me scrambling around attempting to finish the FREAKING INSANE amount of homework assigned to me in time for RUF that evening. (RUF stands for Reformed University Fellowship and is a campus ministry at Furman.) My initial plan was to visit all the different ministries and make a logical decision after gathering all the data. I visited one and have made my decision. After the service, my friend Julia and I stayed around, planning on going to the fellowship event afterward at a local restraint. We got a ride from one of the leaders, not having our own transportation, and ended up running out of time to go with the rest of the group due to a stop at the church to drop off all the RUF equipment. The small group of leaders, accompanied by Julia and I, ended up at waffle house at 11 at night thoroughly excited about this crazy opportunity and with the knowledge that its occurrence meant that RUF was exactly where I was supposed to be. (I still had homework to do when I arrived back at the room much later in the evening that I had expected, but it was totally worth it.)
That right there is a recap of my first week at Furman, first week in college, and the first week of the rest of my life.

Something New and Different: Furman Summer Connections

In the spring I received a letter from Furman with a picture of some kids sitting on the top of a mountain smiling happily. As I do with all mail from my future alma mater I flipped it over and read it carefully: It was a flyer for a free summer theological seminar that the Lilly Center on campus was putting on how faith and vocation work together. This concept intrigued me, as did the price and prospect of meeting new people before I arrived on campus for “O Week.

I filled out the short online application with elaborate and well-written essays in the sprit of the many I had already written thus far in the college process and within a few weeks a plump letter was returned to me saying that I had been accepted to the program.

I was all at once excited and apprehensive. It was that feeling you get in your stomach when you are going into something utterly unknown. I pushed that fear, or apprehension, or whatever, out of my mind.

A few months later I found myself on the road making the 2.5 hour drive down from Camp Harrison, where I am working as a counselor for the summer, to campus for the start of the week. Honestly at that point I don’t know what I was expecting, but I can tell you that it was anything other that what happened.

When I arrived I found myself overwhelmed with a desire to be extroverted, something camp had not given me, something not even parties with my closest friends in high school had really given me. It was an extroverted-ness that did not, as usually was the case, make me exhausted of people in general. It gave me joy to be around and begin to form bonds with these new people. Seeking out and befriending everyone became my new goal. Whereas in the past I would have shrunk back, fearing awkward encounters or rejection, I now put myself wholeheartedly out in the open, for better or for worse and was myself, my crazy, loud, thoughtful, apparently funny, sometimes to the point of being obnoxious self.

It was freeing to be this new version of me. I liked it, I liked carrying myself out in public without so many cares and without so much need to draw back and be alone. The week left me wondering if this was a version of myself that I could sustain or weather it would come to a head later in the fall.

No matter what, I felt like something had indeed changed. It was as if there had been something inside of me that had been wanting to get out had finally escaped, finally been let loose, and was finally having its turn to be the me it wanted to be.

113,956 Hours

Well I honestly can’t believe that it is all over. As my friend Jay Putnam said, its been 13 years well spent. And if you really think about it 13 years is quite a long time. Thats 156 months, 678 weeks, 4749 days, 113956 hours, 6837334 minutes, 410240038 seconds, and 410240038000 milliseconds. It flew by. No seriously.

I began my educational adventure after preschool with Transitional Kindergarten at St. Ann’s. Day 1 I entered carrying my little backpack stuffed to the brim with markers, notebooks, and probably toys. But there was a problem – I was told that everything I did was wrong. My teachers said that I could not color inside the lines and they could not understand the reasons why I did things differently from all the other children. I distinctly remember being punished for curiosity and creativity on more than one occasion. It was at this point my family began looking for a place that would cultivate my creative spirit instead of attempting to quash my individuality. Thats when we found CCS.

I was not supposed to get in, back in 1998 CCS apparently had a long waiting list. But a family friend, unbeknownst to us, made some calls and helped pave the way for me to get in. God really wanted me to be at Charlotte Christian.

There are so many things that I would never have done had I not been here. My sense of creativity, curiosity and need to explore would have been smothered out like the spark of a fire that has not yet had the chance to roar. I would have never been challenged to be excellent. I would have been content with mediocrity. I would have never had teachers who poured into me, who believed in my passions and wanted truly to help me achieve them. I would not have forged the friendships I will cherish for a lifetime. I would not have arrived at graduation day the AJ Calhoun that I love being without Charlotte Christian.

There are little things that CCS has that make me realize even more that it was exactly where God wanted me. Things like: Why is our theater program one of the best in the country when we are such a small school and have such limited resources? Where did the broadcasting program and Knights Knews come from? (I mean seriously if that’s not a God thing I dont know what is) and why are all the AP classes above average?

It just seems like WAY too much of an anomaly the way things worked out and how much CCS cultivated who I am and set me up for success. Malcolm Gladwell writes in Outliers, a book that deals with how exceptional people become exceptional that, “you have to be born at the right moment; at the right place; to the right family… and then you have to work really, really hard. That’s about it.” I feel like that occurred- or at least it has so far.

Take That William Carlos Williams. Logic > You.

The Poem: This is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

My Response: This is Just…A Note I Left on the Fridge Because I Like to Be Slightly Poetic With The Shopping Lists.

Dearest Vivian, forgive me, for I have eaten the plums, and also the pears. The next time you are at the market, would you be so kind as to pick some more up? Picture this, you are sitting at the counter in your kitchen—you happen to be a wonderful poet— logically, it is far more likely that this poem is supposed to be taken as the most fascinating shopping list ever, rather than an apology for stealing his love’s virginity. The best vantage point from which to see this obvious over analysis of a fairly simple poem is that of the dry arrhythmic tone.

On first reading of the poem the words flow from William’s pen directly to the paper but they do not move once they reach their destination. If you look at this poem as compared to some others with obvious alternate meanings, such as one of the more convoluted Shakespearian sonnets, you will see how different it is. Shakespeare’s words undulate and almost scream with blatant double entendre; while William’s words do no such thing.

The scene surrounding the writing of this poem seems very clear: it was late at night in the summer of 1934. Williams has just awoken after a lovely summer dream. He has that feeling I sometimes get when I awake in the night—that insatiable desire for something a “so sweet and so cold.” When he walks into the kitchen and remembers the plums are still there he eats them as a refreshing midnight snack. Since he is such a nice and pleasant husband, and so that his wife, Vivian, does not become distraught about the absence of her favorite snack he leaves her a kindly and creative shopping list. The dry and unmoving tone blatantly stating his actions clearly demonstrates this, “I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast forgive me for they were delicious so sweet and so cold.”

It has been postulated that this poem is about sex, about the loss of virginity. It has been said that Williams is apologizing to his significant other, Vivian, for taking that which she wanted not to loose. But if he wanted to say that he would have written, “I have taken your virginity I took it last night and which you were probably saving for marriage forgive me for it was awesome.” But Williams did not. See, he wrote about plums, and thus we must conclude that this poem is in fact about fruit.


Photo #1: “Film Still from Unmade Film: ‘Chaos of Refrigeration’”

The goal here will be to create a series of photographs which reflect the ideals of a certain artistic movement. Today’s work has a few different influences as discussed below.

(shot in Camera+ iPhone App, double processed)

Overarching Artistic Influences:

Dada

Jean Arp’s “Collage Arranged According to The Laws of Chance”

The randomization and chaos specifically of the condiments on the right hand side as well as the turbulence caused by moving all these objects (and in the process, somewhat randomizing them as well, as influenced by Jean Arp’s “Collage Arranged According to The Laws of Chance”) from one refrigerator to another reflects the Dada spirit of meaninglessness.

“291″

Alfred Steiglitz’s “The Steerage”

The portability of the camera I used (an iPhone) is very similar to the mobility that Steiglitz was exploring with his much larger camera, the images are similar in that they both take pictures of everyday objects/occurrences in a new way and discover found pattern, also his work “The Steerage” juxtaposes the first class with the lower class just as this image juxtaposes the chaos and apparent disorder of the food with the chrome and plastic of the formal refrigerator.

Futurism

Marcel Duchamp’s “Nude Descending a Staircase”

The film-esque quality of  Duchamp’s “Nude Descending a Staircase,” the superimposition of the frames is a cubist representation of film, which is represented in a non-cubist way here through the selection of a single frame from a nonexistent film.

Whirlwind

First and foremost. WE WON! WE WON! WE WON! I cannot even believe it, the shock of it has not yet worn off, I still don’t think my mind has fully grasped the concept that WE WON! What did we win? The 2010 North Carolina State High School Play Festival Distinguished Play Award and the opportunity to perform at the South Eastern Theater Conference for a chance at the regional title.

Each year over 90 high schools from all over North Carolina put on 0ver 125 45 minuet plays at each of 8 regions. Charlotte Christian took home the big win at Grimmsley HS, Central Region Week 1, one of the most challenging regions, earning one of 16 spots at the state festival this past Thursday and Friday. We performed at 3:00 on Thursday rounding out the first block of shows and had the audience cheering on a drowsy afternoon. Literally the house was packed, I don’t think Greensboro College could have fit another person into that theater it was so full of people wanting to see the show, and they laughed at every word out of our mouths, it was astounding. The judges loved us, we were compared to Up, Spring Awakening, and The Wizard of Oz combined. That’s a nice way of saying “your show was frickn’ awesome!”

The good part about doing your show in block 1 is that you get to sit around during blocks 2-4 and just hang out! The team bonded during all the other shows (Spoon River) and had a fabulous time! I love NCTC. Each year it is the highlight of my year (except for last year when we lost at regionals) my favorite thing to do is to make predictions, I’m getting pretty good at it if I do say so myself, well my stats show I am! at regionals I got the top awards 100% correct and at state I did about 70% some people love my predictions trying to figure it all out is part of the fun, and others just hate it!

I love NCTC, I love everything about it: the stress, the problem solving, the rules, the shows, the competition, all of it, it is awesome. And now it is over. Forever.

It seem like time has been speeding by faster than if it were a fancy car on the autobahn. Where has it all gone? The first four months of my senior year? They were here for such brief moments and now they are gone. But it’s more than just senior year, it’s all these lasts, I hate it. Like friday night, was my last NCTC play festival. Ever. That is devastating.

I vividly remember my first NCTC festival, the show was Really Rosie. I was 12. It was a wonderful experience, we only stayed and watched a few show because we had to get back for a performance of the Hobbit that night we didn’t even get to go to the awards ceremony. As the years passed I went to more and more NCTC festivals ending up totaling 15 over my 7 years in attendance. Bringing 13 shows across the stage and winning numerous awards.

My freshman year we moved on to State, my sophomore year we did the same, following that up by taking the state title as well; and my senior year we also moved on to state and again took the coveted state title. It has been a blur of bliss- a life alterable chain of memories and stories which I would not trade for any amount of money. It blows my mind to think that out of my 4 years in high school my drama team has made it to state 3 years and to nationals 2 years. In the next few days I’m planning on going through all my old programs (I’ve saved them all) and doing a post about memorable performances. (e.g. Feeding the Moonfish)

I dont know what my fall will feel like next year without NCTC in it, much less without ACT 1 in it. There will most certainly be a piece of my heart which will always yearn to return to those long happy nights watching shows, loading in and out, staying up late in hotels playing card games, making predictions, and of course, performing.

Here is a list of all the NCTC shows I have been a part of over the past 7 years:

(Grade:Show,Role:NCTC Rating:Special Awards)

  • 6th Grade: Really Rosie, Neighborhood Kid: Good
  • 7th Grade: The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood, Merry Man: Superior
  • 7th Grade: All The World’s A Stage, Senile Grandfather: Excellent
  • 8th Grade: Garry Grinkles Battle with Wrinkles and Other Troubles in Mudgeville, Ensamble: Superior
  • 8th Grade: Bernice Bobs her Hair,Dreycott Deyo: Superior
  • 9th Grade: Merchant of Venice, Stage Manager: Superior
  • 9th Grade: By Grace, Stage Manager: Superior: Regional Distinguished Show
  • 10th Grade: So Help Me God, Student Technical Director: Superior: Regional Honorable Mention Distinguished Show
  • 10th Grade: As You Like It, Student Technical Director: Superior: Regional Distinguished Show, NCTC Distinguished Play 2008
  • 11th Grade: Mulan, Student Technical Director: Superior
  • 11th Grade: Twelfth Night, Student Technical Director: Superior
  • 12th Grade: Taming of the Shrew, Student Technical Director: Superior
  • 12th Grade: Into the Woods, Student Technical Director: Superior: Regional Distinguished Show, NCTC Distinguished Play 2010
Whitney Gray Photography ©

photo taken seconds after Charlotte Christian's 2010 production of Into The Woods was awarded the highest honor a North Carolina high school production can achieve: the Distinguished Play Award and and invitation to perform at the SETC festival. (photo © 2010 Whitney Gray Photography)