I may have heard all of the cliché sayings before, i.e. “this really gave me a different perspective,” “I feel like my voice is really heard,” “this gave me a chance to express myself,” “I feel heard,” etc. Although, because all these things have been hammered into my head to the point where I’ve dismissed them as cheesy or shallow, it really hit me when I heard several students at the detention center actually say them; it’s not fiction, it wasn’t provoked by an English teacher, it didn’t come from any ulterior motives, but it was genuine. And from this (and a combination of other things, such as mental health, self improvement, etc), I’ve learned to attempt to see past whatever preconceived notion of cliché-ness attached to anything I hear because I feel as though I’ve excused far too many things that have meant more than the letters that spell them out on paper.
Author: Mitchell Parker Page 1 of 3
Even though it was a bit different from last week, I still enjoyed talking with the students there. I’m glad the not-too-serious atmosphere is still there, and everyone else seemed to enjoy the arrangement of it as well.
I am sad that none of the students I worked with last week were there, because I had told them I’d see them again next week, but that’s okay. This group had a very similar vibe; laid back, genuine, and funny. I’m looking forward to next visit!
Even though the first in-person visit to the detention center was chaotic and unexpected, it still felt great to interact with those that I’ll end up working with for the next few weeks. We didn’t talk much about stories (or stay on-topic much at all), but I liked the freedom I was able to have. Beyond just talking about college life and payment logistics, all three of them discussed happiness in their lives and within the detention center, more so among themselves than specifically at me. I was extremely grateful for the laid back atmosphere of everyone in the room; the students, teacher, and security guard all contributed to making me and each other feel comfortable in the face of that new experience for all of us. The most important thing I could take away from the whole interaction was how self-aware the students were. They knew their situation, and knew not to get themselves too down about it. They knew everyone makes mistakes, and that everyone comes from different experiences. I’m so glad I wasn’t too sick to make it.
Reading “The Body Keeps The Score” reminded me of a lot of the things I learned when I took AP Psychology in high school. Many of the examples or experiences Kolk referenced were ones I’ve heard of before, for example, the learned helplessness experiment tested on dogs or the serotonin inhibitor experiment on mice. Since that class I’ve been interested in how the human mind works, and I was happy to find out that the selected passages from the book don’t read too much like dry, analytical lab notes and more like a humanistic account of the psychology behind trauma and mental illness. I also really appreciated the hands-on experience and insider knowledge within the psychopharmacology field that Kolk could demonstrate through writing,
Relatability is a tool in storytelling. A lot of relatability, in my opinion, is simply having the experience of being a person in common. Another factor branching off of this is how easy it is to imagine ourselves in another scenario or situation, such as ones described in stories.
A huge factor that contributed to making virtual school feel so uncomfortable was the choice that everyone had to turn their cameras off. Given the choice between showing their face and staying hidden, most people chose the ladder due to the fear of being judged or watched by others behind a screen. In-person school forces us to be present and, as Haven said, offers a lot of socialization that a lot of people take for granted (including me). Forcing students to interact with each other is better than nobody having that interaction.
I was able to gather a collection of smaller stories instead of a larger story I could write a paragraph about (it was a busy break, my sister in law had a baby). For examples:
My sister told me about a time when she went rock climbing with one of her friends and nearly fell off the side of a mountain. She was way in over her head and her friend was obviously more qualified than her.
My brother told my family about some of his experiences at Virginia Tech when he roomed with his high school friend freshman year, and then his journey through med school in Connecticut.
And my dad also shared with my family how he managed to cause upwards of thousands of dollars in damages to a boat when it detached from a while on the freeway in Fancy Gap.
What could possibly make these all ‘stories’ is how they communicate so much detail through familiarity; my sister told her story when we, along with her husband, were rock climbing ourselves. My brother knew that we had all been to college and experienced some sort of hard academic work of the sort. And my dad used the feeling of dread from making a big mistake to really communicate what he felt to us.
Story: “Okay To Tell” by Emely Recinos
My expectations about how this story would pan out weren’t correct at any point. I thought she would go on to explain more about her friend group in particular (which she didn’t, she only mentioned it once), I thought she would direct more attention towards her own struggle dealing with the fact that she was losing her vision (which she seemed to just play off, as if other people knowing about it affected her more), and I imagined she would have some big insight at the end of it that was more than just that she should tell more people about it.
In my opinion, her narrative was all over the place, bringing attention to certain things such as her friend group, having to use a ‘blind person stick’, her cousins or her brother’s beliefs, and jumping to something else in the next sentence. I also noticed how the expression in her voice probably got more across than a block of the same text would’ve.
‘Learning’ itself seems like such a vague term as used in the first prompt of the midterm portfolio reflective essay. “Experienced learning,” “learning moments,” “how this represents learning,” and “define and categorize the learning” are all used in the same paragraph and paint what learning is to be some concept open to interpretation. If this is the case, and we should in fact explore what learning means to us through writing an essay, then that’s good enough of an answer to me. If not, could the explanation of what we should really include in the essay be narrowed down a bit?
We could’ve talked about finding sources and writing an annotated bibliography for the whole semester, but nothing compares to having actual hands on experience (I know this and I’ve only just started the process). Seeing firsthand the amount of knowledge we have access to is much different from being told how many resources are available. I can infer that it would be more difficult to find resources at a larger university (since there would be more people wanting more documents, making it harder to get a specific piece), so I’m glad I can take advantage of the availability offered at UR.
I’ll never fully understand why a lot of the Virginia lawmakers (as well as the ones in Richmond) were so hellbent on chipping away the rights of African Americans. I haven’t sat down and had a discussion with anyone who had been alive during that period who could explain how historical context normalized segregation based on race, I only know that it happened and (thankfully) that it is beyond immoral.
This makes me wonder if there’ll be some revelation in the future that causes society to deem some other unjust institution immoral, and if people would look back on our time in history in similar ways. As referenced in the first few chapters, slavery hid itself under different names, and many were blind to how brutally it was robbing human beings of their rights by using excuses relating to the legal system, religion, and so on.