Community Engagements Through the Arts: This I Believe essay #1---CETA 2020 begins!

Monday, January 6, 2020

This I Believe essay #1---CETA 2020 begins!

Please post your essay here before class on Monday, January 13.

Details: Remember the essay should be about 300 words and should both tell a story and state your belief.

Please also remember to bring a copy of your essay to class (printed or on your phone) and be prepared to read it aloud. NOTE: You should practice reading it aloud in advance in order to be ready.

65 comments:

AnonymousJanuary 11, 2020 at 5:21 PM
Faith Boles- This I Believe essay #1

If right now I asked every person in this room if they have, or someone they are close to has struggled with depression or anxiety, I am willing to bet that almost every hand in the room would go up. If directly after I asked all of you who have struggled or known someone that has struggled, how many of these people were able to get affordable and professional treatment, I am willing to bet that hands would immediately go down again. Despite the overwhelming number of individuals who have a daily battle with mental disorders, the country as a whole fails to recognize the depth of inaccessibility, especially for young people with a lack of funding.
As college students, we are in one of the most high risk times of our lives. From constant school stress to overwhelming work schedules, the rates of depression and anxiety have skyrocketed. Many colleges, like our own, have made counseling an available on campus resource. Yet, however amazing and helpful these counselors are, they are not always the most effective form of treatment. For those who need more professional help, including life saving medication, the prices are unbearable. A quote from a friend suffering from depression and currently needing medication truly nailed in the radical change that needs to occur within this countries mental help treatments. She says, “To see my psychiatrist, it was 250 dollars just for a down payment. Every appointment after that is 120 dollars. These prices do not even include my medication and I have insurance that helps to knock down the prices.” When she said this, I stared at her, dumbfounded. Even with insurance, adults that are 18 and up must have access to money that most college students do not have, keeping the help they need just out of reach.
Imagine, everyday you wake up and feel alone. You schedule a meeting with the counselor. She tells you that talk therapy may not be the most effective treatment and recommends seeing a psychiatrist and getting medication. You walk out, even more defeated, already knowing there is no way you can ever afford it. You accept that this is your life now, a constant battle with your own mind.
I believe that a change in the system must occur. The politics surrounding mental health have been jaded for years. Although this country has made great strides recently to normalize opening up about personal trials, even greater strides must be taken to raise the accessibility of professional help. I believe this cannot be done just by talking about it, just as depression cannot be cured just by telling someone you have it. Everyday, lives are lost in the battle with mental disorders while help waited just a few blocks away, as long as you brought your wallet.
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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 4:06 PM
I believe in cherishing those around you.
Growing up in the South, my family is central to my identity and my network. As a kid, I took for granted how close and healthy our family was. I spent every Sunday with my extended family at dinner, and I spent my entire summers being babysat by my great grandparents and grandparents. In particular, I often stayed at my dad’s grandparents. I never really knew it or paid attention to it until it was too late, but I was the center of my great grandfather’s universe.
I was the only girl in a long line of great grandsons, and as is typical of Southern households, girls are always the favorites among their fathers and grandfathers. My great grandpa used to catch the feral barn cats on their property just so I could pet them. Once he sat outside in the middle of heat for hours just to catch a giant fire ant for my school project. He displayed all my art, no matter how poorly done it was, just because I had given it to him.
When he was on his deathbed, he asked me to come see him every day. One of the last things he said before he lost his ability to speak was, “I would feel so much better about leaving if I could just see Madison again.”
I will always regret that I wasn’t able to visit again, and I wasn’t able to fulfill that last wish. I had never really lost anyone close to me before then, and it made me realize that I probably didn’t show him how much I loved and appreciated him while he was alive. Although death is always a tragedy, it can be a positive learning experience if you let it be. My great grandmother, his wife, is still alive, though in poor health. I make it a point to cherish every second I have with her, because I believe that you must cherish those around you before it is too late. I hold onto every moment I have with the people I love. Life is unpredictable, and you can lose so much in an instant, so I believe you must treasure what you have while you still have it.
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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 7:05 PM
This I believe essay #1 -Garret LeVan

I believe my parents are the biggest blessing in my life. Let me explain why:

I can not express how grateful I am to have a mom and a dad who are happily married and love their son more than anything in the world. Growing up, I heard stories from my friends about how they never met one of their parents. Some of them had a parent who died, or who left before they could remember them, etc.

I am not bragging about how great my childhood was, I had stuff happen to me that I wouldn't want to happen to anyone else. I was just shocked as a kid to realize that parents don't always live happily ever after. I couldn't imagine what some kids would have to go through when they were younger- going to 2 Christmas' and 2 birthday parties might sound fun on paper, but not being together under one roof could be difficult for people.

My mom did a lot to have me. She couldn't have kids at first, so her and my dad had to go to Atlanta to see a specialist to try and have me, and it worked! There is more to that story, but I don't think my parents would like me to share. Regardless, I think that's why they spoiled me so much, because they were told that they would never have a kid.

After I was born, it was clear that I was their prized possession. Both my mom and my dad set a great example for me for when I have a kid of my own someday. How to be kind and compassionate and respectful to not only me but to their spouse. I always try and do my best to please them and that's all they ever ask of me. Regardless if I fail, if they know that I tried my hardest then they will never be mad or disappointed in me.

I believe my parents are the greatest to ever do it, and I am thankful I am their kid.
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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 8:56 PM

I believe in carving

I can picture myself, 8 years old, sitting on the porch steps of my great uncle Kenny’s house. He sat in his faded green plastic every afternoon after I got home from school. When summer turned to fall the chestnuts would begin to fall from the trees. I always loved breaking them open to find the yellowish center. I remember asking Kenny if I could use his pocket knife to carve the chestnuts. He always said yes and reminded me to never push the knife.

I always listened to this warning, but once I pushed the blade and cut my finger. I was immediately shocked as my fingertip started to bleed. Kenny got me a bandaid and told me to come sit by him. Instead of being mad at me for being careless, he took the chestnut and showed me the technique again. With a twinkle in his eye he handed me the pocket knife and told me to trust my cut and not push the knife. I remember being happy that he gave me another chance and kept a careful eye on the cuts.

8 years have now gone by since Kenny passed away. I miss having him as a grandfather figure in my life. I felt inspired by this memory and asked for wood carving tools and wood for Christmas. On Christmas Day when I picked up the tool I remember the mantra he taught me. “Don’t push the knife.” When the blade cleanly carved through the wood I felt an overwhelming sense of joy. I forgot how fun and rewarding it was to carve.

I can not wait to continue my journey in carving. I know that Kenny would be proud.

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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 9:41 PM
Love is a deep and complex emotion. There is the ability to be loved and to love. There is also the ability to be broken by love. I have watched people around me fall in love, be in love, and lose love. But now I am skeptical.
My grandparents, Meemee and Jerbear, as I nicknamed him, were married for 58 years. More than half of their lives. 4 kids, 12 grandkids, and 5 great-grandkids all because of them. They exhibited what true love really was. I yearn to have even a portion of love they shared one day.
My grandparent’s love was so real and on fire, it broke the strongest woman I know when she lost her partner. I always admired how strong Meemee was growing up want to be like her in every aspect. But when Jerbear passed away less than a month ago it destroyed her. She was shattered. We switched roles, she no longer comforted me I was the one comforting her. She would come into my room every night and cry. Asking why did this have to happen to her? why couldn’t she go first? why does she have to feel so much pain?
Losing my Jerbear was one of the hardest things I have been through, but what is worse is seeing how vulnerable and broken Meemee is because of it. She is suffocating in sadness because the love of her life has passed. She no longer feels complete.
Love impacts our lives tremendously in good and bad ways. I am now scared to love the way Meemee did. I don’t want to be crushed by it. That is truly terrifying.
Love can bring the brightest of brights to life and the darkest of darks. I have witnessed the darkest of darks and do not want to endure that crippling pain.
I believe in being absolutely heartbroken and being filled with love.
But more importantly, I believe the scary power of love.
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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 9:51 PM
Everyone ought to hang a foot on their wall...a painting of one, that is. It’s one of my favorite bedroom wall decor items. Not because it’s a foot. Feet have debatable beauty. Not everyone loves feet. I’m sort of indifferent to them. A lot of people hate them and can’t even look at them...in painting class that excuse doesn’t fly.

To be fair, the only reason I’D look at a foot very long is if I am forced to for class. It was a learning exercise. A good one, if I’m honest. And I think everyone needs to do it. A foot, like most body parts, if you study it for a while, becomes pretty weird. In class, we studied the (shape-based) basics of its structure: a rectangle for the bulk of the footbed, a triangle for the heel, and lots of differently angled rectangles to make the toes and joints. However, what really makes a foot look like a foot--and the thing that can redeem a janky painting of one--is observation. That’s what saved mine.

After a 3 hour studio where I wrestled with oil paint and the foot of Michelangelo’s David, (the subject our instructor had chosen), I had to take a break. That’s when I began actually LOOKING at David’s foot. I observed the ankle width, the veins and contours on its top, the value changes in the toes. When I looked back at my painting, I realized I’d tried to make a foot of my own that did not in the slightest resemble David’s. I’d tried to paint the structures I’d known existed while ignoring the details that set David’s apart. No wonder it didn’t look like his, or look even remotely realistic.

My instructor’s words still ring in my head today: “Draw what you see, not what you know.” By this she meant, don’t assume you know what something looks like--get out of your head and use your eyes to observe the lines and values that are reality. When it comes to art in any form, observation is a critical source of base knowledge. When it comes to many dimensions of life, it is as well. It’s easy to assume we know everything there is to know, that reality is exactly how we perceive it to be. However, as things change and grow, if we’re not actively observing, we will miss a lot about the reality we live in.

Everything is unique, and it’s easy to overlook that. I believe the best way to remember is to practice painting a foot. Then, hang it on your wall so you can never forget it.
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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 10:21 PM
I believe everyone needs a mentor.
Figuring your way around the world is hard. Growing up on your own is even harder. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without my mentors. They have helped shape my personality and goals in life. I am on the track I am supposed to be on. Without them, I would be left wondering; Am I doing the right thing? Who am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to do now?
A mentor has experience and can be trusted. You use them as a role model and listen to their reflections. They are a great leader as you tend to follow in their footsteps. I have had a few mentors in my time. My parents, my cousin, and my boss have all been role models for me. My father has taught me to be hard working and determined. My mother has shown me how to cook and live efficiently. My cousin has been able to give me advice for anything issue I’ve come into contact with. Lastly, my boss has shaped who I am as a person. I’ve been given the opportunity to make something of myself and pursue a career I enjoy!
Mentors keep me moving forward and I would be lost without them. They have guided me through many rough times in my life and everyone should have someone in their life that they can rely on and go to for advice. They can help you will any struggles that you shouldn’t have to deal with on your own. They have gone down the path to warn you where not to go, and they will help you realize who you should become. My mentors have inspired me so much that I have become a mentor for others and I love helping them in every way I can.
I believe everyone needs a mentor.
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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 11:08 PM
The sun is shining through your curtains and blinds. You take a deep breath and do a deep stretch, unraveling your cocoon and waking up your body. You take your time to fully wake up and sleepily reach to see what time it is. It is 8:56 am, your first class of the day is at 9:30. You are not rushed. You get out of bed and prepare for the day ahead. Classes come and go, a meeting here and a lunch there, and it has been a long and exhausting day.
You come home and sit down, taking your first relaxed, deep breath of the day. You do your afternoon routine: working out, binging tv shows, making dinner or ordering in, reading, or knitting. At the end of your long day, you get to take your long-awaited shower, You clean the day’s germs away. You are ready to go to drift to tomorrow. You slip into bed, feeling fresh on your clean sheets. Imagine the alternate: waiting to shower in the morning - waking up earlier to shower, sleeping less, gathering the day’s sweat and grime, and then stepping into stale, musty sheets.
When you shower in the afternoon, it is beneficial for every part of your routine. Showering in the afternoon, while improving one’s cleanliness, also aids your sleeping schedule. While showering in the morning can wake some up and prepare them for the day, showering at night allows you to prepare for a clean, fresh, and deep sleep with no worries of having to shower in the morning.
I believe night showers should be considered better than morning showers.
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KurtJanuary 12, 2020 at 11:48 PM
I was given the option of an umbrella or a fleece jacket to commemorate my 20 years at Transylvania. Both had the university logo. Each seemed to imply Transylvania wanted me to look like a) a die-hard alum, b) a proud parent, or c) an employee who could recite the alma mater, even though our last 2 Presidents relied on practiced sleight of hand maneuvers to access their index card cheat-sheets when they had reason to sing it from a commencement stage.

Though I have a few times, in the past 20 years, thought I should visit the bookstore to purchase a piece of clothing that says “Transylvania,” I have not because a) I am cheap, b) I avoid using my body as a marketing platform, and c) I have a large collection of interesting Transy items already—including a shirt students cut small holes in as part of a disruption, holes to reveal each of my nipples.

I chose the fleece jacket. Because I have filled my body with enough soda for my bare hands to dissolve rust off a nail in 4 weeks (Coca-Cola does this in 4 days), it makes sense to find warmth in a coat made from the plastic bottles that once held the soda. This feels like a responsible way to use all parts of the product.

My 20-year anniversary jacket responds to the slightest movement of my body: even a deep breath splits the zipper open. I have trained myself to sit very still when I wear it. I imagine the zipper of my 40-year anniversary logo fleece will be much better. By then, I will have earned it.

I believe employment anniversary gifts are like fleeces with broken zippers. They aren’t quite functional, they don’t match your wardrobe, and one way or another they are made from plastic bottles.
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AnonymousJanuary 12, 2020 at 11:59 PM
I believe...in smelling the roses. It is such a simple concept with such great results. “A forthcoming study in the Journal of Personality and Individual Differences suggests that appreciating the meaningful things and people in our lives may play an even larger role in our overall happiness than previously thought.” In a time where our world moves a mile a minute and technology is being made to make everything faster than ever before it is important to take a minute and breathe. In order to really enjoy life it is necessary to stop and smell the roses and not let life pass you by. I know personally I do not normally take the time to breathe and understand that sometimes it is okay to put technology away and take time for yourself. It seems these days that the more beautiful things are overlooked like the more simplistic things in life such as gardening, birdwatching, and stargazing. If we are more in tune with the environment such as paying attention to the beautiful things it gives us, it will become much clearer why we need to save the environment. The environment is truly the one thing we really have while people may come and go, the environment, is truly here to stay as long as we work with it not against it. Smelling the roses is the best way to experience life to stop the rush and be kinder to each other. Through different life experiences I have come to realize that if we moved just a little slower we would realize how important it is to be kinder to each other and just stop and smell the roses.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 1:06 AM
no.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 8:19 AM
At six years old I attended my first concert. In a large stadium arena I saw Reba McEntire, country superstar. On my mother's shoulders I sang along to every song, entranced by the volume of the music. Reba was a fixation I had developed a year before. Sitting in the living room, I stumbled upon a sitcom starring the southern red head. From that moment on I became obsessed with watching every episode and more importantly listening to every song Reba McEntire had produced.
As the years progressed, my obsession only deepened. For Halloween, I dressed up as the star using a wig the very same shade of red as her hair. For Christmas and my birthday I received a Reba McEntire Barbie Doll and the very sheets that she had once slept on. I attended approximately five more of her concerts, one of which I had the honor of meeting Reba at. My mother told me that as I matured, I was bound to grow out of such a “phase”. However the day never came. Without fail I have loved and admired Reba since the moment I discovered her.
Now if you know much about the content of Reba’s work you may be beginning to criticize my parents. Songs depicting affairs, prostitution, murder and a show featuring a household amidst divorce, adultery and teen pregnancy. However my mother had me in college to a father who was increasingly out of the picture. In Reba’s music I found normalcy, validation to my reality. While some may indulge in Reba in order to deepen into their sadness I have time and time again found nothing but contentment in her work.
This I believe, has shaped the way I receive the world. Reba gave me comfort in my seemingly dysfunctional life. A woman, in an industry dominated and criticized by men, from a generation that struggled to accept ways of life different from their own. Reba broke all the norms. While singing about a woman confined by HIV, another daring enough to escape abuse and finally one struggling with undocumented immigration, I found reality. I learned to hold my head high, and “walk on”. I learned that we all have baggage, no matter the media’s portrayal. Most importantly I learned that nothing about my life was dysfunctional or broken.
Not only did Reba instill in me the belief that as a woman, I could do anything I wanted, but also that I could handle anything. Through thick and thin Reba McEntire has stood by my side showing me the hard truths of life, and making sure I could handle my own.
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Marissa PriceJanuary 13, 2020 at 10:48 AM
Approaching longer breaks from regular classes hasn’t always been met with much enthusiasm from me-- I love the go-go-go feeling of school and having things to do all the time, and I have the added advantage of loving what I do and what I study.

However, the more breaks I get, it seems the closer I get to picturing what my life might look like when I’m no longer in regular classes. I’m not sure what jobs I’ll have after I graduate or if I’ll find an apartment in Lexington like I hope, but I do have some vision of what things might look like outside of work and wherever it is that I land-- what foods I might cook for dinner, what new skills I might learn just for fun, what kinds of shows I might watch when I’m bored on a Friday evening.

I know these things because I learned a lot about myself when I spent the last two summers working on campus, making my own dinner (thank goodness for the kitchen in my apartment that helped a lot with that this past summer) and finding little things here and there that would keep me productive outside of going to my jobs.

In the summer of 2018, I bought embroidery supplies and did a satin stitch for the first time. I began watching a French television show to see if it would help my French (the English subtitles probably kept that from happening but watching the show was still interesting.)

In winter 2018, I learned more stitches for a tiny floral piece I worked on while watching Netflix.

In the summer of 2019, the stitches I learned came in handy when I got the opportunity to stay on campus and assist with a project that involves a lot of embroidery. I also learned the accompaniment to two new songs on piano, despite hardly touching my keyboard for the last three years, and did a few DIY projects for apartment decorations.

This past winter break, I stayed on campus and worked on a few of my senior art exhibition pieces, then I went home for just shy of a week. There, I watched a lot of youtube videos that ultimately inspired me to pick back up on Duolingo and improve my French, and made me want to learn to play the ukulele and read for fun again. A few days after returning to campus, I read a whole book in a day-- John Green’s Turtles All the Way Down. It’d been years since the last time I’d started and finished a book on the same day.

I don’t know what my future looks like, but I do have this. And I believe that, for now, maybe that’s enough.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 12:02 PM
love.
The amazing thing about love is how it responds to the obstacles life throws at it. The initial hypotonic feeling when you fall in love lasts for a spell and soon evolves into a sentiment that needs to be nurtured everyday. It feeds off affection, gestures, promises and words. When in love, flaunt it, be wholly consumed by it. The important thing is to know that it thrives at each other’s contribution, and that’s not always equally shared. There are days when you accept more, there will be days when you give more than you can take.
People say love is unconditional, on certain days that’s true but on some days misunderstanding looks at it in the eye and challenges its wit. When the insecurities finally catch up and convinces you to give up, the fondness grips your heart and reassures you. On other days, it’s most beautiful and soothes your demons.
Love, however perfect you might want it to be, is far from it. It’s as flawed as the people involved. But it comforts you when you most need it, fills the void you never thought you had and stays with you even when you think it can’t. Few fade, only a handful linger scathed as they may. When you find love that is iridescent even as time plays with it, hold on to it. Keep it close to you and remember that feeling when you battle the mightiest of storms because losing when you have that kind of love by your side is not an option.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 12:13 PM
On the day before Christmas, officers from the Mobile Police Department wished everyone a happy holiday on Facebook. In their hands, they held a “homeless quilt”, a collage of various cardboard signs taken from people experiencing homelessness, begging for kindness and help. Earlier this year, a cop in Texas gave a homeless man a shit sandwich. You read that right. A sandwich with literal dog feces. The cop was suspended, but ultimately kept his job. Recently, I saw a viral video of animal activists stealing a homeless man’s puppy to give it a “better life”, and then leaving the man there on the streets. Everywhere you look, there are examples of anti-homelessness, whether it be in the form of the criminalization of panhandling, hostile architecture like spiked sidewalks and divided benches aimed at keeping away homeless people seeking sleep or heat, or just plain cruelty and mockery to the homeless.
I believe that homeless people are society’s most vulnerable, and they deserve to be helped and treated with decency and respect. The pervasive anti-homeless legislation around the country doesn’t address the causes of homelessness, but it instead treats homelessness as an “eyesore”, trying to hide it from the rest of society. I believe that if our legislators and those who fill their pockets refuse to help those who need it the most, they should be forced to look at them daily. Homeless people are NOT an eyesore or an embarrassment to society. They are humans. They might be humans that have been down on their luck, or fell to addiction, or have gotten kicked out of their homes, or have a mental illness, but the situations that led them to the streets don’t matter. What matters is that they need help, but are treated less than animals by a majority of society. They might be just like you. They might be humans that love chocolate and music and science and art and sunsets and love.
If you are in a position to help, then help. The next time you see a homeless person, treat them with kindness; give them spare change, buy them some water or some food, give them a scarf or a blanket. Donate either goods or your time to food pantries and homeless shelters. Vote out legislators who criminalize homelessness. Protest those who treat the homeless like they are less than. Our society should be dedicated to protecting its most vulnerable members, but it is committed to the opposite. With kindness, empathy, and understanding, I believe we can change the narrative on homelessness.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 1:15 PM
For my first I believe essay, I would like to say I believe in people. We interact with people in so many ways for so many reasons. Two people can get along for the rest of their lives believing in each other or a mass of people can come together for a single purpose. I believe in people because as often as we let each other down, we never give up on each other. If there are people who tear down others, there is always someone else that will pick you up. Even if no one is there, people pick themselves up and persevere. We lost my grandmother when I was about 8. Seeing my grandpa hurt and deeply saddened by her passing was so hard. My grandmother’s passing was hard on all of us. In that time, my grandpa showed up to every one of my baseball and basketball games. He persevered through his pain and found so much joy in me. I was in awe of that man and really wanted to be the person he believed I could be. He made me believe in myself more than anyone. People inspire others all the time and I believe there has been a lot of doubt in society because of social media. There are a lot of negative comments about every person’s actions to a global scale that in my opinion has depleted hope in society. I think with social media, people will start learning better ways to pursue good intentions. I believe we will come together are particular topics that will be necessary for our survival. I don't believe people will let us down because at the end of the day, we are all in this together.
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Kremena TodorovaJanuary 13, 2020 at 1:24 PM
My local flower shop offers a lush respite from the winter greys outside. The fragrance of orchids wraps itself around me while I seek color. Pink cyclamen and purple cabbage oblige.

In line to pay for the air plants I’ve picked out, I catch the eye of the woman behind the cash register. We smile at each other. She compliments my outfit. Always starved for color in the winter, I am wearing violet, purple, and pink. The woman asks, “Where are you from?”

This is a question I face frequently. Still, I am surprised how quickly my accent thickens. I catch myself rolling “r”s as if I am a newly-arrived immigrant from Bulgaria, unable to pronounce the “th” in “this” or “three.” In the midst of this linguistic impediment, I hear myself saying something about the fifteen years I have lived in Kentucky, about being local. Clearly, she is puzzled.

I, too, used to ask people with non-American accents where they were from. I assumed because I had an accent, they would discern no ill will in my question. I did this for years.

Then I took a diversity workshop and learned something new. Asking “Where are you from?” entails the assumption the person you are addressing is not from around here. They are a foreigner, someone who will never completely belong. The workshop helped me understand the tattoo on my back, which says “deep roots.” I tell people it’s for my deep roots in Kentucky. I can see most assume I am joking. After all, I have an accent that reveals my far-away origins. “Germany?” is what I am asked most often. The words inked on my back announce a sense of belonging my accent betrays.

When I get home with my air plants, I ask my Kentucky-born son, “Do you hear my accent?” He says he doesn’t. He doesn’t question the tattoo on my back.

I believe we can all grow new roots, even beneath grey winter skies.

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KurtJanuary 13, 2020 at 1:43 PM
from Emon Daneshmand:

Sports in the US is the number one form of entertainment. These college athletes who are devoting their lives to the sport they love are sacrificing their social lives, sleep, and most importantly, their bodies so we can sit on the couch, eat potato chips and cheer on our favorite team. I believe that Division one athletes should be compensated for their sport performance as it is a form of entertainment for our nation and because of how much of their time they put into it.

College athletes at the elite level will put in more time than your average full-time 40 hours a week employee. Not to mention that employee sits at a desk all day while the athlete is wear and tearing his/her body the whole time and still, with no energy left to spare, is expected to attend classes for that is the role of a “student athlete”. The term student athlete is only applicable when we are talking about division 2 and 3 athletes for they do not invest as much time into the sport/training as the division 1 athlete. This person who decided to go D1 also signed up to devote all the energy they have into their sport. It’s not even their job at this point, it becomes their life. So what I am saying is that since these elite athletes are devoting so much of their blood sweat and tears to the sport and supply much of the entertainment we watch today,they should be paid for their hard work and help ease the tension these athletes live through day to day.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 2:02 PM
Leaf cutter ants manure their own gardens. The ants of the colony, big and small, poop near their little fungus wads to grow food. The fungus species they use are often only found in their colonies and nowhere else in the world. The fungi are actually believed to have speciated because of the ants keeping them tucked away in the colonies, giving them as gifts to their royal daughters. The queens keep the fungus in a little pocket as they carry themselves and their fungus (and often little cockroaches hidden under their bellies) to brand new locations. The fungi could not grow effectively, were it not for the littlest ants, the young minims, petting them as they reach maturity.
The colonies are dependent on the fungus as their first foods, both as in young colonies cannot spare the ants to explore the dangerous world and all ants eat it while they are larvae. Incredibly, the fungi will cease growth if any of the ants manure contains the remains of other fungi. Therefore the ants can not grow any other food as competition. Even a weak batch of fungi is better than none, so they work with what they have or die.The two species, then, benefit from each other, they need one another. Yet both species force dependency.
Often, when we look at interactions of organisms, we sort them based on the effects of their relationships. If one benefits and the other hurts, its predation or parasitism. If one benefits and the other is unaffected, its commensalism. If they both benefit, its mutualism. I believe that, like the fungus growing ants and their crop, many mutualisms are two species trying very hard to benefit from a relationship more than they suffer. Either could become a parasite if left unchecked, though it may not be in their best interests. Exploitation is beneficial, but too much and either may die out. I do not think these relationships are evil, nor do I think they are good. I just wish they were known because it shows me that when one stands up for themselves and really makes sure their needs are taken care of, all those around them and depending on them are forced to be a bit stronger too.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 2:21 PM
I believe in living in the moment.

The experience from which this belief stems began during my first music festival. I had travelled to Tennessee with my friends where we camped for four days, along with the other festival goers. During those four days we saw 20+ musical performers. This was one of the most enjoyable experiences I have ever had. However, I left this festival with the unfortunate realization that people have a terrible attachment to their phones. This being my first music festival I did not want to bring my phone outside of camp, and I thought other people would be the same way. I was wrong. While I was enjoying the music, I looked around in hopes to take in the moment but instead I saw people videotaping the music on their phones.
Some would argue they do this so they can later revisit their experience. Although I find this to be understandable, it still bothers me because why wouldn't people just want to live in the moment, without using their phones. By the use of these devices during performances, it is taking away from how the artist wants you to experience their show, and it is also taking away from your own. The purpose of festivals is to escape reality, meet people from all around the world, and create a strong community.
Although I only talked about one event, I believe that this is a serious problem in the world. Some people freak out if their phone is about to die and it is not attached to them at all times. Personally, I do have a problem as well but I try to disconnect from my phone at times and I find that is more peaceful, and even more enjoyable to be apart from my device when I am experiencing things like music festivals, or other social events.
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UnknownJanuary 13, 2020 at 2:28 PM
(NOTE: If anyone reading this essay is incapable of handling the topic of suicide without compromising their mental health, then please skip this essay.)

Alex Toney:
Last semester I had a major crisis. Because of the stress of incoming registration and feeling disillusioned with my current career path, I started to lose the feeling that I had something to look forward to. For perhaps the first time in my life, I felt entirely hopeless, and it likely won’t be the last. That week, I had to be hospitalized, due to risk of suicide. I knew it was something I would regret, but my body and my emotions didn’t. It’s like we were fighting. Like I was fighting with myself.

If you ever pay attention to media, particularly horror, you’ll likely see a common theme of some sort of doppelganger of the main character, similar but strangely ominous, act as an antagonist. A popular example would be Jordan Peele’s Us, but a personal favorite example is the video game Celeste, where the main character, Madeline, faces a demonic shadow of herself in the mirror who tries to stop her by force from climbing the titular Celeste Mountain for fear of her safety. It’s a rare (as far as i recall) example of the doppelganger trope played where the doppelganger is not evil, and is arguably even benevolent, and where attempts to escape or defeat her inevitably ends in failure, because you can’t outrun your own reflection.

However, Celeste rarely, if ever, directly tackles the concept of suicide. For most players, it’s simply assumed that Madeline isn’t going to intentionally take her life, but if the player pays attention, not only does that possibility pop up in the narrative, but Madeline goes so far as to make a full attempt, where she jumps off a cliff after being mentally, but not literally, pushed by her shadow. The fact that it’s an attempt at suicide is never outright stated, and Madeline never appears to show any sort of regret over failing, simply feeling despondent she never made it to the top of the mountain.

The truth is, the grand majority of people who attempt suicide and survive say that they regretted it. It’s something that seems appealing on paper, but by the time you actually get around to attempting it, you realize just how much you had failed to realize you still had. Because truth to be told, no one is ever truly hopeless. Everyone has potential, and this fact is ingrained into our instincts even if we don’t necessarily realize it, or even if we deny it.

I suppose, then, what I believe is that, while people will always have their low moments, days where they are scared, days where they are weak, they will always hold the power to pull through no matter how far they fall. Remember this when you’re not having the best day. Even if you feel weak, you’re not. You’re strong; Incredibly so, and inherently so.
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AnonymousJanuary 13, 2020 at 7:17 PM
I believe in sisterhood.

Growing up as an only child in rural western Kentucky meant that a lot of my childhood activities included hanging out with my grandparents while my parents worked. The memories I made with them will forever hold a special place in my heart, but there were still times where I wish my parents had had more children or my cousin hadn’t moved to Florida so that I could have companionship with girls my age.

I had a small group of girl friends throughout middle school and high school, and my best friend since 5th grade, Kassidy, is getting married later this year. I have always considered her to be my sister because she has had my back through many good and bad moments of my life. Kassidy was the first person I ever found a sense of sisterhood in, but that would change when I decided to come to Transy.

When I came to college, I heard about these crazy things called sororities where everyone called each other sister and blasted their love for each other on social media, and I thought “hmm...seems fake?,” but I rushed anyways thinking I might at least make a couple of friends out of the whole ordeal, especially considering Kassidy was three hours away and I knew a total of three people at Transy. Well turns out, I found the rest of my sisters in Tri Delta. I grew up never knowing what it was like to have sisters or siblings in general, and now I live with 8 of the most kind women I have ever met. My sisters have given me unconditional love and support through some very difficult times in my life, and the bonds and friendships we have created in college will stick in my heart for the rest of my life.

I believe in sisterhood.
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KurtJanuary 13, 2020 at 9:51 PM
from Abby Pearson

I believe that the past should be left alone because it no longer exists yet I should still own my memories. Memories meaning things i want to engrave, or the things i want to forget, things that will leave traces in my mind. Sometimes recollection is a joy, it's like putting together a puzzle of previous experiences all of which make the puzzle a little bit more complete. I believe memory is the core of the soul, like the bulb of a light bulb, without the bulb light cannot shine.

I believe memories are worth being recalled. I remember family dinners in my childhood in which my two brothers parents and I would sit at the table and share all of our experiences from that day. Along with sharing our experiences came great amounts of laughter, love and happiness. Although at the time I did not realize the importance of these dinners as a family but now that I look back and see family dinners as some of the best memories with my family. I believe memories are rainbows, always showing up after our tears.

I did not discover the meaning of memories until my grandmother was diagnosed with alzheimer's. After the diagnosis it seemed as if an eraser existed in her mind, gradually sweeping away all of her memories. She no longer remembered my grandfather or her friends or my name. When I saw her all I could do was remind her that I am her granddaughter and although she always very quickly forgot the smile that lit up her face when I told her was so charming.
I cried a lot when she was gone. I knew that I could not ask her to stay forever but she was already preserved in my memories. Memories that make me grow.

Can you imagine how gorgeous memories are? Nothing can touch the past except for memories. I believe memories are also painful; nevertheless, they make us grow. I believe when memories are gone, we would become a newborn baby. I believe memories bring us every expression that humans have. I believe I will be happy as long as I have my memories.

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Community Engagements Through the Arts

CETA 2020: Our first 2 emojis (of hundreds)

Monday, January 6, 2020

This I Believe essay #1---CETA 2020 begins!

Please post your essay here before class on Monday, January 13.

Details: Remember the essay should be about 300 words and should both tell a story and state your belief.

Please also remember to bring a copy of your essay to class (printed or on your phone) and be prepared to read it aloud. NOTE: You should practice reading it aloud in advance in order to be ready.

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