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Created January 6, 2020
Community? Engagements? Arts? Well, for starters this is a class taught at Transylvania University in Lexington, KY by professors Kremena Todorova and Kurt Gohde. The goal of this class is to form a relationship with the community by engaging in artistic projects with the community. The outcome of this will manifest itself in many ways, some recognizable and others not so much.
CETA 2020: Our first 2 emojis (of hundreds)
Created January 6, 2020
Individual Tasks
Collect addresses, make & write thank-you cards, design pronoun buttons--Anna Davis
Blog Manager--Paige Wessling
Recorder/archivist for This I Believe essays--Sarah Metcalfe
Social Media--Lydia Baggett & Garrett LeVan
Photographic Inventory (3 people)--Yousef Alsdudi, Sarah Bennett, & Faith Boles
Space, raw material, & tool inventory manager AND order enforcer--Emily Neat
Quality Control & Class Ethicist--Alex Toney
Software Design Team (3 people)--Shelby Barker, Emily Cecil, & Abby Pearson
Fabrication Team (3 people)--Brooklyn Greer, Will Hemingway, & Marissa Price
Finishing Team (4 people)--Nannie Baze, Emon Daneshmand, Ally Frederick, & Madison Phillips
Additional photographic documentation--Kremena and Kurt
Working with production design at Kre8Now Makerspace--Kurt and Kremena
Publicity for the class--Kremena and Kurt
Securing materials needed--Kurt and Kremena
I remember seeing him right before Christmas Eve--my grandma’s dog. He was just one of her many impulsive purchases and the fourth in a line of spoiled pets soon to be put up for adoption. As I entered the apartment and looked upon the urine-stained carpet, I felt repulsed and a little upset. It was just like her; spend without giving thought to the consequences. Not only did she have little money, but she obviously couldn’t care for the ball of fur hiding behind her chair. She never left her apartment, which meant that the dog would become crazy like the ones before. I couldn’t help but think of Lucy, the dog she had when my uncle died. Lucy clung to my grandma fiercely, barking and biting at anyone who made a movement in her general direction. I had despised Lucy and looked at that bug-eyed pekingese with the same resentment.
ReplyDeleteWhen my grandmother fell and broke her arm last month, my parents had to bring Bear home. That first weekend he wouldn’t stop barking at me. It seemed as though Bear really was like Lucy. With every passing weekend though, he barked at me a little less and began to stare at me expectantly, sometimes rolling over to have his stomach rubbed. With every passing weekend, I slowly began to reconsider my judgment of this ugly dog.
When I saw him jumping through the snow, I finally gave up. He would prance along the dry sidewalk and then bolt to a peeking blade of grass, kicking up powder behind him. It was hilarious to see this little ball of fur with big eyes bounce around. As I laughed at Bear and let go of my resentment, I became open to what I had been trying to resist.
When I saw her in the nursing home, she wasn't caustic and impulsive, rather vulnerable and passive. Why hold on to the past when she had changed? The past was gone and so was the pain. Holding on in the face of change only let it continue. That's why I believe in reconsidering.
Grandmothers AND puppies? This is so heartwarming. I love this as an example of forgiveness and letting go of resentment. I may or may not be crying a little. Or a lot.
DeleteWhen I think of my happiest memories, I think of the time I spent with my friends in high school. All of our late night car rides on winding backroads, windows downs, belting out hits from the early 2000s. Our ritual walks down a mile-long driveway to the rarely traveled dead end road to lay in the middle of the street and listen to the frogs singing in the nearby pond. Spending days on end laying in the exact same spots on the sectional couch in the basement, watching entire seasons of shows on Netflix, only getting up to retrieve snacks and take bathroom breaks. Nighttime campfires with ghost stories and marshmallows, sitting atop the slowly rotting wooden deck, defending our faces from giant, fuzzy moths who must not have been able to see properly. Sitting in the kitchen, annoying my friend with would-you-rather questions while she concocted elaborate baked goods that she could definitely make a fortune off of if she would just audition for any FoodNetwork show.
ReplyDeleteThe summer after we graduated, we were all set to go in different directions. I was coming to Lexington for college, James was moving to Minnesota with his family, Yaz was moving back to Hawaii to be the adventurer she is. Kelly slowly withdrew from the group and only sporadically talks to us nowadays, yet she’s always there when I’m back in Harrodsburg and in need of a friend. In the weeks leading up to our first member peeling away, we would randomly burst into tears at the thought of not being together anymore. One of my all-time favorite memories is from the week before Yaz left. While she cleaned out four years’ worth of empty liquor bottles that we had hidden around her parents’ basement, I was slowly drifting to sleep on the sectional couch. I was in the hazy, almost-asleep-but-not-really phase when all of a sudden Yaz was fully on top of me, crying, and saying how much she was going to miss me.
Brian Weiss is a psychotherapist who specialized in past life regression therapy, which centers on the concept of reincarnation. He has a theory that we all have “soul groups” of about 5-6 soulmates who are created to love and support one another, and the groups reconvene in between lives to catch up. If you’re lucky, you get to reunite with one or two of your soulmates during a lifespan every now and then. My friends and I latched onto this idea and we believe that we’re members of the same soul group—soul friends, as we call ourselves. I’m not sure if reincarnation is real, but I firmly believe in soul friends.
I love this, and am all for soul friends too!
DeleteWe were walking down Madison Ave when it happened. We’d just been to a graduation show at our alma mater, and we were walking side by side having a wonderful conversation. My friends Fay, Faith, and I hadn’t seen each other in months. It was just like it always was between us. Faith cracked a joke about her initials spelling “FAM”, her brother’s initials spelling “ARM”, and her other brother’s initials spelling “NJM” (pronounced nuh-juM). She’s quite the comic, and we were laughing hysterically. Then this woman came up behind us. We started to move to the side so that she could get by, and so that we could continue our conversation in peace. Apparently we weren’t fast enough for her, though, because at about the same time I tapped Fay on the shoulder to let her know we needed to move over for this very small, very New York woman she does the thing. The thing that we will never forget. She yells in her thick, Queens accent “YOU SHOULDN’T WALK THREE ABREAST!” She then shoves past us and makes her way to wherever she is going, clearly disturbed by us walking three abreast.
ReplyDeleteI do sincerely hope that our walking pattern didn’t ruin this woman’s whole evening; however, I also firmly believe in the power of three, and the significance it has in our culture. I mean, could the woman who was walking by an acting conservatory, not tell that we were actors, and that we had had the rule of three drilled into our heads for two years?! Did she not understand that jokes work better when they come in threes? On the off chance that she could not deduce by walking by us at warp speed that we were actors, had she never heard in visual art of the rule of thirds? For heaven’s sake, she’s a New Yorker. She’s been to The Met. For goodness sake, Jesus died on the cross for THREE days! THREE is the first odd prime number! THREE cups of packed brown sugar equals approximately a pound! THREEs are everywhere! How can she be so prejudiced against walking in threes?
In reality, I understand the annoyance. I understand that maybe we should have left room on the sidewalk for other people. That said, we are three extremely close friends that never get to see each other. In fact, the whole reason I was there for spring break was to see Fay off, because the Thursday of spring break, she had a one way ticket to Athens, Greece. She left permanently because her 01 Visa was denied. Walking in a line of three was the best way we could maximize social interaction with each other. It also gave us one hell of a story. That’s why I believe in walking three abreast.
Spring break is for laying by the ocean and coming back to school tan. That is what I did last spring break and that was what I planned to do this spring break. But this spring break my husband had to work, being a reporter for the Kentucky Kernel, he was to follow the Wildcats around for the NCAA tournament (March Madness). I wanted to go with him, so I prayed the Wildcats would be going to the games in San Diego, so I would get my laying by the ocean and sun fix. We ended up going to Boise, Idaho.
ReplyDeleteBoise, Idaho
I do not know if this city or state has ever crossed my mind. It would be a place with no ocean and no sun. What do people even do in Boise, Idaho? Longingly I watched the snapchat stories of friends in shorts and sandals on their way to the ocean and sun in Florida, while I packed my winter coat and boots.
When I arrived at Boise, Idaho it was like my hometown Arizona and my new home Kentucky had a baby. It had the beautiful mountains, and rocks of Arizona, and the trees and green grass of Kentucky. The weather was not the snow storm I left in Kentucky, but was not exactly shorts weather like in Arizona. In Boise, Idaho I explored a new city where I visited art museums and walked down freak alley. A beautiful alley filled with graffiti artwork. I toured a beautiful capitol building, I never knew existed, ate cookie dough while watching a fountain show, and went to a restaurant where I picked the type of potato I wanted, shape of my fry, and seasoning. On top of exploring what this city had to offer I watch the University of Kentucky make it to the sweet sixteen. This trip showed me there is adventure in every city and you do not need the sun and ocean to have an amazing spring break. I believe in a city where it is pronounced Boy-C not Boy-Z.
What a fun reflection!
DeleteI stand here ten thousand times less meaningful than you, but yet you make me feel so empowered. In some way the reality check that is so gently shown through your beauty that I am not as significant than you. To me, this is one of the most humbling of feeling because I know that I am not anything that you are, but at the same time, it is the most inspiring of feelings because I am shown the possibilities that I could possess and share to others. I believe in rocks.
ReplyDeleteHow can you stand so strong and stable when there are constant blocks that are trying to tear you down? The wind is always whispering in your ear you are not strong enough. The water is always taking a piece of you every time you meet. And worst of all humans crush you and then completely disvalue everything that you are. We use you for our own personal gains, but still, you remain giving. I believe in rocks.
How are you able to keep who you are and your beauty even when these blocks change your size, location, and temperature? How you are able to do all these wonderful actions without moving or "being alive"? You have seemed to left me with more questions than answers but also in a way you do answer all of my questions. Live beautifully, support anyone who needs it, stay strong when nothing our no one else can, radiate positive energy freely and expect nothing in return. So if you can give me all the encouragement that I need to keep trying live in this technology ran, capitalistic, and fucked up world then I hope nothing more than that these thoughts of encouragement and love can be returned to you. I believe in rocks.
A small group of staff gathered as we spray-painted “Unlearn Fear + Hate” directly onto the floor of the library, in English and Afrikaans. It was 2:30 in the afternoon and the space was filling with children doing school work, some of them waiting to use one of the 6 computers with internet in a city without wifi.
ReplyDeleteThe library staff gathered to watch, to offer help moving chairs, and to ask questions like, “Do you think this will last at least 2 years?” and “What if there is someone at my work that I am afraid of, someone who I hate?” Denise asked this question with a thick Xhosa accent and with hopefulness that I, a white man from America, would have an answer.
With a projector—extracted carefully from the cardboard box it was purchased in (complete with the foam packaging, instructions, and date of purchase from a used electronics shop, 7 years ago)—and computer speakers collected from the home of a man working at the library when he heard we needed them, we gave a presentation to thirty-some people: four of them children from the same primary school and one a 72-year-old woman who would later give us 4 quinces from the tree in her front yard when we gave her a ride home.
Denise, who asked earlier about being afraid of someone at work, stayed to the very end. After everyone left she hugged me, thanked us, and with tears said we should leave knowing we made her life better today, that she now knows she can stop hating people even if she can’t stop her fear of them.
I believe Denise, a Xhosa woman with one eye working for 2 white people in a community of 100,000 blacks who were forcibly relocated beyond the Cape Town city limits to arid land without reliable electricity or water, makes the world a better place.
HISTORY PROFESSORS ARE DESTROYING MY LOVE FOR HISTORY
ReplyDeleteDEAR HISTORY PROFESSORS-
DO YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW TO GET YOUR STUDENTS ENGAGED IN YOUR WESTERN CIVILIZATION CLASS? DO YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW TO STOP TEACHING FACTS AND START TEACHING HISTORY? DO YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW TO JUST GENERALLY GET A GROUP OF TWENTY YEAR OLDS TO GIVE A DAMN? THEN IT STARTS WITH YOU THINKING OF YOURSELF AS A STORYTELLER.
HOW MANY TIMES HAVE WE HEARD SOMEONE WHO TEACHES/STUDIES HISTORY SCOFF AT A MOVIE/BOOK/TELEVISION SHOW THAT “IS HISTORICALLY INACCURATE”? BUT I’LL TELL YOU WHAT, 10 YEARS FROM NOW, I’M SURE TO REMEMBER MORE ABOUT THAT MOVIE/BOOK/TELEVISION SHOW THAN I WILL REMEMBER FROM YOUR COURSE. AND HERE IS WHY YOU ARE FAILING IN YOUR OWN COURSE:
HUMANS CAN NOT CARE ABOUT ABSTRACT INFORMATION. I CAN’T EMOTIONALLY INVEST MYSELF IN THE TREATY OF VERSAILLES. I CAN’T EMOTIONALLY INVEST MYSELF IN THE CONCEPT OF ROMANTICISM. I CAN BARELY EMOTIONALLY INVEST MYSELF IN THE ABSTRACT DOINGS OF TODAY AND BASED OFF OF THE PAST ELECTION, I WOULD GUESS MANY OTHER YOUNG PEOPLE WHO COULDN’T EITHER AND THEREFORE DIDN’T EVEN VOTE.
IF I CAN’T FIGURE OUT WHY I SHOULD CARE ABOUT ABSTRACT INFORMATION, I HAVE NO REASON TO REMEMBER IT. IF THAT ABSTRACT CONCEPT DOESN’T MANIFEST IN A VERY PHYSICAL CONCRETE FORM IN MY OWN LIFE RIGHT AT THIS MOMENT, THEN I HAVE NO REASON TO WASTE BRAIN SPACE ON IT. HINT: THOSE PHYSICAL CONCRETE FORMS ARE USUALLY MYSELF OR OTHER HUMAN BEINGS. EVERYTHING ELSE IS ONLY IMPORTANT IN RELATION TO HUMANS.
YOU STANDING UP THERE WITH A POWERPOINT MAKES ME WANT TO STICK MY PENCIL IN MY EYE AND NOT ON MY NOTEBOOK.
WHAT MOVIES/BOOK/TELEVISION/ART HAS THAT YOU DO NOT IS:
THE SENSE TO FOCUS ON HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS VS ABSTRACT INFORMATION BECAUSE I AM NOT A MACHINE I AM A HUMAN WHICH THEN LEADS TO-
THE OPPORTUNITY FOR ME TO EMPATHIZE AND INVEST MYSELF IN THE SITUATION WHICH LEADS TO-
ME ORGANICALLY REMEMBERING THE EXPOSITION (MAYBE EVEN THAT OBSCURE TREATY YOU ARE SO HELLBENT ON TALKING ABOUT).
AND SO HERE IS WHAT YOU CAN DO NOW TO START TURNING YOUR CLASSROOM AROUND:
DISCONTINUE FIGHTING AGAINST HUMAN NATURE AND ACCEPT THAT WE ARE STORYTELLING ANIMALS AND NOT PEOPLE WHO PICK UP RANDOM THINGS AND PUT THEM IN OUR HEADS FOR NO REASON.
GET TO KNOW THE PEOPLE YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT AND USE THEM AS THE SPINE OF YOUR COURSE. WHAT ARE THEIR DREAMS? WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE THEY? WHAT IS PREVENTING THEM FROM GETTING WHAT THEY WANT? AND THEN SHARE THAT WITH THE CLASS.
LET THE CLASS IDENTIFY. JESUS. LET THE CLASS GO OFF ON TANGENTS ABOUT HOW FROM THE BEGINNING OF TIME ALL ANYONE WANTS IS TO GET LAID AND IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU ARE A MONARCH OR A FIRST YEAR IN COLLEGE.
MAKE ME CARE BY MAKING YOUR FACTS HUMAN. ROOT THIS USELESS EXPOSITION IN RELATIONSHIPS THAT FEEL REAL. WHAT WAS THE MOTIVATION FOR THAT OBSCURE TREATY IN THE 1700S ANYWAY? TELL ME IN GREAT DETAIL: ABOUT THE FATHER WHOSE CHILD WAS STARVING AND SO HE JOINED AN ANGRY MOB AGAINST THE LOCAL INDUSTRIALIZED FACTORY, THE WOMAN WHO FOUGHT HER ENTIRE LIFE FOR A PLACE AT THE INTELLECTUAL TABLE DURING THE ENLIGHTENMENT, THE MOCHARCH DEALING WITH THE BURDEN OF LEGACY WHILE TRYING TO APPEASE A KINGDOM. ONCE YOU START TELLING THOSE STORIES, WE WILL HAVE NO PROBLEM REMEMBERING THE TREATY BECAUSE WE WILL HAVE A REASON TO CARE FOR ONCE. I BELIEVE THEN, AND ONLY THEN, CAN YOU GO FROM SPOON FEEDING FACTS AND START TEACHING HISTORY.
BEST OF LUCK,
-A STORYTELLER WHO HAS HAD IT WITH YOU TAKING THE STORY OUT OF HISTORY.
I love storytellers and stories! So, like you, I am a firm believer in telling stories.
DeleteMy spring break took place during fall as the long days of South Africa’s summer gave way to clouds and occasional short-lived showers.
ReplyDeleteDuring my African spring break, I stayed in a neighborhood where the Florida-style beach houses—including their beach access—were owned by white people. The only black people visible anywhere were the domestic help. Each morning, a bus dropped them off at designated spots throughout the neighborhood. The bus sported a large “Golden Arrow” sign in dull yellow.
On the second day of my African spring break, I visited one of Cape Town’s universities. The student body made a busy sea of black bodies. I was told the University of the Western Cape was founded during Apartheid for “coloured students” only. At this university, studying Western literature is considered a lot more prestigious than reading novels in Afrikaans, the primary language spoken by many of the black students attending. All the faculty teaching Western books are white.
In the evening after my visit to the University of the Western Cape, I was interrupted by a white man in a neighborhood bar. Originally from England, Tommy had lived in Cape Town for 23 years. Perhaps because of my skin color or because he had been drinking, he told me his version of African history. According to him, Africa is not a black continent. When Europeans first arrived in Cape Town, there were no indigenous people there. Therefore, Tommy insisted, whites belong in Africa just as much as black people. Sadly, today it is white people who are oppressed, Tommy informed me. I found out he spent his days playing golf, after retiring from a successful career in the oil business, the same career that had brought him to South Africa in the first place.
On the fifth day of my spring break, I traveled to Atlantis, a city created during Apartheid when Cape Town was pronounced a place for whites only. The black inhabitants of Cape Town were forced out of their homes to locations that lacked roads, housing, or infrastructure. Today, Atlantis is home to more than 100,000, a place plagued by poverty and gang violence. Only 5 of the inhabitants are white. I don’t know what brought them there. On passing by the city’s library, I overheard a mother urge her two kids: “Look, a white person!” That white person was me.
I believe in traveling during spring break, even if the journey takes me to places similar to where I started.
Blake Taylor
ReplyDeleteI’m addicted to my phone
I’ve had to like admit it to myself recently that i am addicted to checking Facebook and other social media for notifications or brain stimulation. I waste so much time doing that when I could be reading or making something real....I wake up check my phone, wait in line for something check my phone, talking to someone check my phone, talking on the phone with someone check my phone. I spend so much time on my phone my fingers hurt. It’s tragic. Whatever is on the screen isn’t real and I can’t change anything about all the tragedies in the world and all the trash news that comes across the feed....it is almost a pure waste of time. So I’m vowing to do my best to no longer turn to my phone for instant stimulation but to turn towards real things like what is in front of me or what I can make or learn from that isn’t on the screen.
I believing in aknowledging bad habits, and commuting to change.
Their cost prompts me to check my privilege
ReplyDeleteThat price tag a reminder that the outdoors are marketed to some above others
The price tag that pushes me to fight for equity
So that everyone can feel the agency I do on these trails
So that everyone can run to Mother Nature to escape their problems
So that everyone can feel their feet take confident steps into uncharted territory
These are my thoughts five miles into the Smoky Mountain stretch of the AT
Even as they give me blisters that make it impossible to take another step
Even as they make me want to pull a Cheryl Strayed and fling them off a cliff
I believe in hiking boots.
Spring Break, was full of ups and downs...I mean where do I start. So Wednesday I got a phone call for a job interview in Louisville. I was so pumped because I would love to have a job right after college and be able to be comfortable as graduation is approaching. I asked my dad for some money to stay in a hotel in Louisville because my sister and I would be coming back late from a NBA game in Indianapolis. However, everything took a turn for the worse when I had to take an assessment for the job. I received an email that I did not pass the the assessment. I was really upset because that should not determine my working ability. However, I soon received an email for another job interview so I was fine. So as we are riding to Indianapolis...we listened to “I’m not racist” 100 times...and each time I got more angrier and was like this is how I feel everyday of my life with being black and abou white people. But then we changed it because we couldn't listen to it for three hours straight and be angry at everyone we came in contact with. So later that evening we get to the game...and I see all the men I want in my life...yes I said men...there’s nothing wrong with having a few at one time...I mean, men do it all the time...but that’s another discussion so my rant is over. However, it was so amazing because we were literally courtside almost. So as the game endsr we started driving back to Lexington and my sister started talking about love. Well we stopped and got some coffee to keep us up and then we started listening to makeup and breakup songs that put us really deep in our feelings. Let’s just say, I believe that you should not take road trips with your siblings if both of you guys are single and there's no emotional balance.
ReplyDelete