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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
Today in class we took a survey that asked a bunch of questions regarding our addiction to our phones. There were fifteen questions all of which were answered with a simple yes or no. At the end you were to add up your number of yes answers and that indicated how addicted you were to your phone. In a class of fourteen people there were only 3 people who didn’t answer yes to eight or more of the questions. My professor discovered that 11 of the 14 people in this class have nomophobia, which is the fear of not having their phone. Prior to taking this survey everyone in the class said that they didn’t think they were addicted to their phones. I didn’t speak up because I didn’t want to be the one to admit I was addicted to my phone. But after taking the survey it turns out I wasn’t alone in this addiction.
ReplyDeleteI know that I spend way too much time on my phone. I don’t let it out of arm's reach. I get nervous if I don’t have it. Even if I know I don’t have any notifications I still feel the need to constantly check. Yesterday I probably spent a good seven hours on my phone. There is no where I go without it. I tell myself it is because I might need it incase of emergency, but that has yet to happen. The very first thing I do in the morning is check my social media and it is the last thing I do at night. Often I wake up with my phone still in my hand because I fell asleep scrolling. When it comes to class I struggle to not check it when I feel my watch alert me of a snap or text. I honestly don’t remember the last time I was off my phone for more than two hours.
Even when I am hanging with friends instead of enjoying the time and living in the moment I find myself on my phone. At work I get caught up scrolling instead of doing my job. Dinner isn’t had unless my phone is in hand so I can be on it while I eat. Driving doesn’t even stop me from checking my phone, which is very unsafe for me and the people around me.
I wish I could put it down more but I don’t know how. It is an extra appendage for me. I don’t like that it dictates my life. I believe in trying to put the phone down to enjoy life as it happens.
This was me until I was forced to leave my phone in a dorm for basically the whole day for 3 weeks one summer
DeleteDitched my smartphone in 2013 and haven't regretted it once.
DeleteTo the average Bulgarian, these beliefs are casual and matter-of-fact.
ReplyDeleteThat drinking cold water will make you sick. On an evening stroll down the cobbled streets of Sozopol during my visit to Bulgaria last summer, my Bulgarian friends order water from a street vendor. “Cold or warm?” he asks. “Warm,” my friends talk back with a single voice. Their quick reply reminds me why I am asked if my kids will be ok every time I offer them ice-cold water.
That moving air will cause illness. The Bulgarian word for this health hazard is techenie. Its direct translation in English is “flow.” Bulgarians guard zealously against flowing air. House windows remain shut tight, even on hot August nights. Car windows are rolled up as soon as cars accelerate past walking pace. Fans are not allowed. Air conditioning is disliked.
That all Muslims are terrorists. Bulgarians are quick to bring up the threat of “Islamic fanatics” in everyday conversation. On our drive to the airport, my father admonishes me against taking my kids to events that include Muslims. Undoubtedly, this is in response to my Facebook selfies with my hijab-wearing friends. Though most of the photographs feature such non-fanatic activities like eating birthday cake or drinking coffee, they’ve made him worry that his American grandkids—my children—may be “brainwashed by Islam.” “And then they’ll become terrorists,” he cautions.
That Romas are worthless, less than human. After hearing I had run through the Roma neighborhood in my hometown, my high-school bestie says she would never do such a thing. She wouldn’t feel safe. I am surprised to hear her words. She speaks multiple languages, is well-traveled, and now lives in Germany. I had assumed all her life experiences accrued into a larger vision.
Still, I believe given a change of circumstances, we can change what we believe in. I believe in going away and I believe in returning, with a difference.
I believe that words matter and that they are not enough.
ReplyDelete“Thoughts and prayers.”
As a Christian I do believe in the power of prayer, but I also know that it was never meant to be accompanied by passivity. This battle cry echoes across sanctuaries and dinner tables, people telling each other what a tragedy it is, but not doing a damn thing to prevent the inevitable next one (after which the ritual of whining and inaction will repeat).
But words also carry so much weight. Hate crimes increased 226% in counties where Donald Trump held a campaign rally, and the rates across the country have risen for three consecutive years so far. The fact that I only have a few hundred words for this essay and it an insufficient word count to list all the racist, sexist, homophobic, bigoted, prejudiced things he’s said—that says it all.
I’ve heard a lot of Trump supporters say that they like him because he “speaks his mind.” I don’t know about you, but if that’s what’s in somebody’s mind, I’d really rather not hear any of it. He may not have held the weapons or swung the fists hurting people of color or women or the LGBTQ community, but he and the movement of the far right and white nationalists have emboldened the people who have.
So sure, our President speaks his mind, but at what cost?
Sometimes words are not enough, but words fucking matter.
I agree. Thank you for putting into words what has been on my mind and in my heart for a while now.
DeleteI have a negative reaction any time I see "thoughts & prayers"--because they are NOT enough any more.
DeleteThank you for writing so eloquently.
Over the years, I never really thought about it much. I couldn’t make myself believe that anything was wrong with me. I knew I needed help but then I also knew whatever it was, my family didn’t believe it.
ReplyDeleteMy first semester of college was my hell. Going into it, I was open minded and swore I’d do great. I was able to live on campus, I could leave whenever and do whatever without having to ask.
One of my professors, I couldn’t face. Any time I asked a question, I felt dumb. There was a smart remark back to everything I asked. I was a late add to the class so I missed an assignment and he just yelled that I was doing bad already and I won’t be able to catch up it up and the whole class was looking at me. Seeing that professor or the class made my anxiety bad so I realized I had a choice to not go. One time turned into a week, week turned into a month, I did the work but eventually stopped going to that class.
The class after that, I managed to do the work and attend class but once, I got sick on my presentation day. I came back to class and realized we were a day behind anyway so I could hopefully present. Wrong. We talked, and for some reason her tone and words were aggressive and hurtful. She realized a fault in her actions and told me I could find something else to do. I did not, I couldn’t, I felt like whatever I did wasn’t good enough so I stopped going.
My FYS, was just a big ole English class. English/writing is my worst subject. I heard everyone voice their opinions and read and I told myself I wouldn’t be able to be or sound that smart. I became so anxious just thinking of having to go to that class, I would actually get sick. I stayed back one too many times.
I was spiraling and was forced to go see someone.
Regina, a counselor here diagnosed me and said my depression and anxiety were off the charts. I was failing everything except for one class. I hated myself for letting it get the best of me. I cried myself to sleep almost every night along with crying and having a panic attack every day. My room was my escape and that’s where I chose to stay most of last semester. This semester is going way better but there are still days where I will have a panic attack mid-class or feel so down because I tell myself I can’t do this. I believe mental health should be taken seriously. Maybe I would’ve gotten help sooner.
getting help is a really hard, really big step. i believe in you
DeleteAround the end of my sophomore year of high school, I got my first job as a server at Hartland Hills Retirement Home. At first, I applied because I had some free time, the shifts were short, and it was the only job my mom would let me get. 3 years later, I barely have any free time because of classes and I work another job, but I still work there every Sunday morning because it has become one of the most rewarding experiences. I have learned so much from the residents. To give you all an idea of the people I have the pleasure of serving every Sunday morning, I’m going to describe a few of them and what they have taught me:
ReplyDelete-Preacher J.K. & Mrs. Hilda: As a preacher, he has been to Jerusalem 31 times. Each Sunday he reminds me of that, and tells me different stories from when he was there. He almost always includes one way a Muslim was nice and welcoming to him. Mrs. Hilda, his wife, adds on to his stories with the smaller details. They are both always so happy and full of joy. They have taught me to have the same attitude towards life and to believe in coexistence.
-Ms. Penny: A strong 94 year old woman. From day one, she made it clear she is Catholic and very conservative in her beliefs. When Trump was first elected, she would sometimes indirectly express support for him. With time though, she has changed a lot and has even condemned some of the things he has said. Just a few weekends ago, I was telling a story/joke, and at the end of it she laughed and said, “Hannah, you have changed any bad ideas or beliefs I ever held about Muslims.” It was so beautiful to hear her say something like this, and led me to believe it’s never too late to correct ignorance.
-Mrs. Lolita (one of my favorites): Such a sweet and kind lady, but before Hartland Hills, she lived her life fighting gender norms. One day, she pulled a picture out of her walker of her in a deputy sheriff’s uniform. She told me how she spent most of her career as a receptionist for the county Sheriff’s office, but late in her career, she fought for the position to be a deputy sheriff. She was the first female deputy sheriff in her county. She has taught me to fight for what I believe in.
These are just the stories of a few of the residents and the things they taught me, but I can write about them for days. I’m so thankful for this job, and I can’t imagine leaving. I believe in Hartland Hills, and the many life lessons it has to offer.
I really like this Hannah, I’m glad you love your residents.
Deleteidk these people but they make me smile
DeleteI love these!!! It sounds like you're forming very very deep relationships with your residents.
DeleteThough, in my first round of taking CETA, I used to plan times to write my This I Believe essays in their entirety and struggled to come up with ideas, I now find myself thinking of ideas all the time throughout the week and then writing near full-drafts of them without even trying. This means that I now have a lot of short drafts, many of which never made it to three hundred words, but I believe they are worth mentioning anyway, so here are a few of them:
ReplyDeleteI believe in my siblings. I’m the oldest of five and it’s come with a fair amount of responsibility over the years, but they’re so much fun to be around. Over winter break this year, I spent a lot of time watching a TV drama called Bones, and my then-four-year-old little brother insisted I share my earbuds with him even though he was watching YouTube videos of cartoons like Peppa Pig.
I believe in wearing beanies when it’s around or below fifty degrees outside and I know I’ll be out for longer than ten to fifteen minutes, because I get really bad headaches when my ears get cold, for reasons I have never figured out.
I believe in living alone, because I love having the freedom to play music aloud when I want to and wake up and turn the lights on when I want to, and even though I’m an extrovert, I love having a space to come back to where I can just be alone if I feel like it.
Lastly, I believe in This I Believe essays, for their therapeutic and poetic nature. I have found in my near-two semesters of CETA that reading and writing This I Believe essays is an excellent way to relax. I often have two friends of mine proofread my essays-- neither of which has taken CETA-- and they consistently tell me they find the concept of these essays to be really interesting and, at times, beautiful. After suggesting that they take the class if they can find the time, I always agree.
---
Note: I've seen an essay written like this before so that's where I got the idea to structure it like this.
i have a sticky note on my computer for this i believe essay ideas :))
DeleteI have so many started in my notes because I never finish but felt like the idea was important at the moment
DeleteMarissa, I love both the structure and the ideas of this essay! Thank you for believing in This I Believe essays.
DeleteNote: I've been writing them for 12 years now and I really enjoy them...
I believe in my sisters…
ReplyDelete“To establish a perpetual bond of friendship among it’s members, To Develop a Stronger and More Womanly Character, To Broaden the Moral and intellectual life, and to assist its member in every possible way. ”
This is what attracted me to Tri Delta. My mother was a member and I got to witness her live out Tri Delta’s purpose and values everyday. I was excited to become a part of a group of women who shared those values but it became so much more.
Throughout my life I have had great friendships. I had them before I came to Transylvania and I'll have them again when I leave. But what I have with them is different. It’s sisterhood. A sisterhood is defined as a group of women linked by a common interest. However, in my experience being a part of Tri Delta has meant much more. It’s feeling at home in a group of women simply because they share my letters. It is late nights laughing about absolutely nothing. It is hugs when that shitty boy lets you down. It is helping me hide a dog in my room even though I am not allowed to have her. It is never having to be alone including saving me from sitting alone in the caf. It is comforting me in the middle of a mental breakdown because I didn’t get to play in that dumb soccer game and a text when I am having a bad day. It is when your sisters think you are capable in ways that you never considered. It is making mistakes and being met with understanding. It is learning. It is growing. It is becoming a better person simply by being surrounded by women who inspire me.
The values and the purpose attracted me to Tri Delta but it was the women who stand by me everyday that kept me in it.
I love this! Sorority sisters can be some of your greatest supporters :)
DeleteI have never been part of a sorority but I am so glad for the support women can show each other <3
DeleteI believe that we grow out of friendships. It is a harsh reality that many of us have probably faced. I have learned this lesson this semester.
ReplyDeleteI will not name who this person is as I wouldn’t want them to be called out. We used to do everything together. Spend hours laughing and talking about nothing and everything. I would even say this person was my best friend on campus.
This semester I have had trouble communicating with them and our friendship has been frazzled. I was ignored for 3 days until I finally broke and asked what happened between us. They felt as if I was ignoring them, but I was not. The miscommunication between us put a gap in our friendship.
I am not the type of person to immediately give up friendships. I am not sure if they are leaving me or the other way around. We aren’t the same people we were when we started being friends. I don’t know if the people we are now are compatible.
I believe that we grow out of friendships.
retweet
DeleteI believe in waiting well.
ReplyDeleteLife has not taught me to believe in very many things. Actually it’s taught me that most of the things people say they believe in are lies, internally contradictory, or nice fantasies. Every week I struggle to come up with a belief to write about because I do not have many.
But at the same time my life has been very structured around goals, which must at least resemble beliefs. A person does not commit themselves to very much for very long if they feel that their goal isn’t worth something, doesn’t bring something. I am not very selfish but I don’t feel like a radiant, giving person either.
“Hope above all is the greatest of evils” is a quote I share often, half-jokingly, with my kids. It’s from Nietzsche, who lived his whole life in deepest rigor, working harder sometimes than his mind and body allowed to make wider the circle that circumscribes experience. His work was not pleasant but nor was it unselfish; he enjoyed himself quite a lot sometimes. It seems to me he went months and weeks without much joy only to find himself hit by lightning bolts every once in a while that made the whole waiting worth it.
I think surviving is a shitty goal except in direst circumstances. And having tried it repeatedly, I think hedonism is boring and sad. Moderation, of course, is worse, and a schedule dense with work and play is even more tiresome by the end of the week than it was at the start.
I do not know very much about life and hope that there will come a time when things become clearer to me. But in the meantime my plan is to labor til my body and mind submit, over and over, on projects that amuse me. I have no belief that reflection itself will produce insight, nor even confidence that hard work will do so. But things are interesting and perhaps that is enough.