This will be an ongoing post for thoughts on about-to-finish-college.
(I like that “graduate” has double meanings I had not intended, graduate from undergraduate, and graduate school.)
I want to be an artist, a poet, a something, why the hell I am still in college?!
On the way back:
I do dislike people in their early twenties so much and like those in their late twenties so much.
I want to become a person that you will trust me with your narration.
For now, I want to have wrinkles and gray hair.
These four years of rapidly changing my mind: also rapidly changing my book collection. By the end of each academic year, I have to move out, and then, move in somewhere. The first year, my book shelf was dominated by Freshmen Studies, Second year, European History anthologies, Third year, Michel Foucault, graphic novels, French textbooks, cookbooks, Forth, literature of modern period, of Second World War Lit., of Toni Morrison, of Theory, of Derrida, of contemporary lit.
I regret that
some adorable people have challenged me to follow the rules, instead of challenging me to pursue my own voice, my own language.
Lawrence is not for:
those who come from intellectual families, those who use big words and writes with sophistication and flair, those who take ideas seriously, those who are more or less attractive to University of Chicago, those who do not study for SAT but already scoring high, those who have taken college courses and already getting A minus and above, those who dare to be fiercely independent minded, those who really want to attend college rather than an upgraded version of high school, …
Liberal arts versus Uni:
At Durham and in England, I encountered quite a few enthusiastic, intelligent people that, coming from a liberal arts institution, I think they will be better off in liberal arts colleges, they belong to liberal arts education: they should go to a liberal arts! In a big university, undergraduates are secondary citizens, commoners, third, or even forth, fifth-rate people, except the already exceptional few. In liberal arts, on the other hand, your enthusiasm will be celebrated (and of course, frustrated), you unsophistication tolerated, your (silly) ideas valued. Liberal arts is for those who, before anything else, want to change the world and/or know thyself (sometimes via examining the world one lives in).
Two students missing and one died suddenly over Easter vocation: this is, after all, a big university, where death, metaphorical and actual, happens.
On my senior dissertation:
As a reader I feel impressed by it, many parts of it give me enough reasons to be so very proud of myself. But as the writer, I know what it didn’t do, what it should have done, where it is unstable, what are truly its shortcomings. I felt strained, except in Epilogue, to write like an undergraduate, to explain things, that was the most annoying part.
This will sound mad, I more or less feel its craziness, but these are two of my ideas of university.
in regarding to sex. each floor should have a room, something like a shabby hotel room, for people to have sex. it’s furnished with sex toys, condoms, and all that jazz. one must make a reservation to use it. and they have to clean up after themselves, change the shifts, etc. to set up the system while ensuring absolute anonymity shouldn’t be difficult. the benefits: privacy, safety, and potentially educational. and it should also have an emergency cord.
in regarding of four years of college. it’s absolutely unhealthy to stay in college for four years. three years is better but not perfect. so it should be like this, after three years, you have all your general requirements, major requirements done, and you have a nominal degree, but you are not yet graduated from college. you can choose to go back to college after three years, or five, ten years, after sufficient experience of the real world, of adult life, that you finally know what are your main concerns, and what you need, and then you decide whether you really want to go back to college to finish the degree or not. some people may not need this final year, some may think they are well set up in life that a nominal degree is already good enough. those who go back will read classics on one hand, and set up their own reading list with consultation with supervisors on the other, another year of leisure to read difficult texts, think difficult issues. there are similar things out there like this forth year of college, such as master degree, reading clubs, and so on, but those are not exactly the same as undergraduate, with its focus, leisure, and innocence.
the many failures of many instructors at Lawrence of not having directed me to the right books.
About to live without YouTube
torn between the prospective bliss and misery.
I hate bullshit is just a form of self-hatred.
If I could start college all over again, I would be a self-designed major in “Language, Literature, and Thought”.
Now it is really difficult for me to have genuine respect for those who have not had cross-cultural, international experience, which is not the same as having traveled, been abroad. A girl I know at Lawrence came back from her European study-abroad and complained, like, ‘well, you know, it’s Europe, not Africa’. Europe is too good for her to feel good about herself. Typical.
To do list for life: keep a cat; study Italian and live in Italy; Argentina; live at the present;
I do not know if I had had thoughts like ‘I want his, her, its life…’, thoughts like that before. But now it’s difficult to hold those thoughts. I do not want to leave behind the life that I have witnessed, and, only I who has witnessed it all. All those changes of narratives, transformations of what have you. It has been a life interesting enough.
If I can turn back the clock, I at least should have done three things, become proficient in German and French, that’s two, and, plan my trip much much earlier, when I was planing my Christmas vacation.