Tuesday, October 7, 2008

I hate college essays.

I hate college essays. I don’t like the idea of pinning myself down in five hundred words, and I don’t like prompts that make me force myself into pretending that I am what the perfect University of Wherever student is, thinks, and does. Around two years ago, when I was applying to schools (foolishly thinking that I belonged anywhere but Wilson), I found myself wondering why the colleges of the world are obsessed with leadership skills. While I value the leaders of the world, I did not consider myself one of them. Let’s admit it – sometimes group projects are as frustrating as teaching kittens how to jump rope. I’m not saying that I refuse help or don’t like the company of other people – it’s just that I’ve always been better at badminton than soccer, kayaking than crew, and term papers than biology labs. I’m fiercely independent and value taking on all the responsibility I can handle, and nothing stresses me out more than being forced to tell my peers what to do. And you know what? I think that’s one of my biggest strengths. I think that it’s beautiful to be a committed and faithful follower and to know when someone is better qualified to do the leading. I believe in the power of the individual striking out on her own and the empowerment of doing something by oneself. So, I sent in just about the sassiest essay you ever did read about why my lone wolf nature was an asset to the community. Unfortunately, all my honesty got me was the opportunity to put my name on the wait-list of a fine educational institution, which I joyously refused. I have since embraced the leadership abilities we all have hiding deep inside our introvert psyches, but I still have not learned how to quit sassing my superiors.

That being said, part one of our essay section tends to freak people out a little bit. It’s not that we’re asking you to do something particularly difficult. We’re just not really asking you to do something in particular at all. That’s a really scary concept after writing dozens of five-paragraph explanations of why you absolutely positively are the model of perfection. Really, our first essay can be happiest ray of sunshine in your college essay world. So let’s define the boundaries of the revolutionary boundary-free essay. Here’s what you do: Write something down. Tell us a story about playground politics. Make a youtube video. Compose a poem about your dog. Analyze what being in the marching band did for your personality. Make us laugh. Illustrate it. Write about how your mother taught you to cook. Explain how exactly you became a communist. Incorporate Ani Difranco quotes wherever possible. Translate it into every language you know. Whatever! We’re not asking you to outline your leadership skills or explain in excruciating detail why your trip to Costa Rica / Nepal / Guatemala / India made you want to save the world. The thing about our applicants is that every one of them would love to save the world/trees/environment. Tell us something that is outstanding about you, that makes us wonder how we’ve gotten through our lives without meeting someone quite as rad as you.

Go forth and tell us why you’re cool. Isn’t that refreshing?

Where Can’t You Knit a Cardigan?

Right before the semester started, I spent an hour and half at the local yarn shop with an unbelievably patient and helpful yarn-store-girl. We thumbed through books of patterns together, touched probably every single ball of yarn in the whole store, and debated what color yarn would look best on my mother (not, of course, that this woman has any idea who my mother is). Regardless, I left a) feeling like I had made a new best friend, and b) with 1400 yards of a lovely lavender merino/alpaca blend. And then I had to start knitting a sweater.

Regardless of what you think college might be like, Warren Wilson students have a very limited amount of time for sitting around eating bon-bons and the like, so I’ve managed to perfect knitting-on-the-run. Here’s a selection of places in which I’ve worked on the cardigan for my mama:

-making an oven pancake at 7:30 AM in the EcoDorm kitchen
-walking across the footbridge to class, after consuming aforementioned pancake
-during Chemistry class, while we were discussing quantum mechanics (and again when we were learning about stoichiometry, and nuclear chemistry, and electrolytic solutions)
-sitting in rehearsal with the 50-voice College Chorale, WWC’s folk choir (yes, I can even knit while standing up and singing)
-while reading poetry and eating chocolate-pumpkin cake at my friend Merrin’s apartment in Black Mountain
-working the cash register for Cowpie, our vegetarian dining hall, while Sara (who was serving food) made bets with me on whether the blueberry or everything bagels would run out first (for the record, I won: it was the everything bagels)
-during 4 consecutive weeks of Sunday Night Study Snack (the weekly tradition in Eco of a couple of pairs of roommates preparing some delicious snack for everyone in the dorm)
-during a plant walk with my biology class to identify as many different phyla of plants as possible (I stopped knitting when we waded across the river to observe liverwort growing on the side of the broken-down dam)

With all of that, as of today, there’s only a few inches left to knit...

Lindsay

Monday, October 6, 2008

Family Weekend

My family, to put it simply, is the bomb. I usually jump at chances to spend time with them, especially now, living 8 hours away. My brother, Merrill, who has just started his freshman year at Cogswell Polytechnical College in CA, is witty and wise beyond his 18 years. My dad, Piers, is a good listener and often quite and is definitely hilarious. My mom, Janet, is punny and beautiful and without a doubt one of the most wonderful women I know.

I was graced with my mother’s presence for Fall Family Weekend. She drove down from Maryland with a friend (the mother of an ’05 social work graduate) on Friday and showed up at the barbeque hungry and tired of being in her car. We spread out our blanket and dined on pulled pork and orzo while watching all of the parents and students mingle. At one point I went to get her water and on my way back to the blanket I pointed her out to my friend Sam, who howled with laughter and said, “You are going to be just like her!” Not only am I ok with the idea of becoming my mother; I am looking forward to it.

On Saturday we woke up early and ate breakfast with the president, complete with tiny muffins and strawberries and thought-provoking questions for Mr. Sandy Pfeiffer. Afterward I went to work in town while she visited a mock class and went to the festival on the field with her cousin and his family, who came to visit for the day from Charlotte.

On Sunday we made our way to Charlotte to visit our 94-year-old aunt and her cousins. We spent three hours visiting with family members that I haven’t seen in 10 years and it was one of the nicest afternoons I’ve had in a long time. I often forget how wonderful extended family can be and Sunday was a pleasant reminder.

Later that evening she brought all of her food from the weekend to my suite, and she and my suitemates and I dined on leftover spaghetti, meatballs, and salad. And while all of the students were sitting around reading, doing homework, and talking about politics, my mother happily crocheted and chatted the evening away, fitting in like any of our friends. I am very lucky to have such a wonderful mother, and a wonderful family, and I’m glad that Warren Wilson offers a time when students can invite their families to visit and experience all of the goings on here at campus.

Laurel