My Learning Process

Dear Friends, I write to you today to share with you a piece of my life that I currently hold dear to my heart: Learning. Since I was a child I have loved learning and grasping new processes and insights. I value knowledge even when others find it useless and a waste of time.  I value the learning that I am blessed with at Taekwondo and the learning I encounter in everyday life. My father genetically blessed me with the wonder and passion to continuously grow. My father taught me that hard work and a grasp of reality will get me exactly where I want to be, even if others try to berate me. He was right.I look up to my father in so many ways. I see his calloused hands and know that they have lived through more than I could ever imagine. When he was but a child they drafted him into a war that he did not wish to fight, like myself my father believes that war is unnecessary; that you do not attack someone before they attack you but rather you avoid war at all costs. Violence is unacceptable unless you are backed into a corner defending yourself. This is the life of a pacifist. I value life more than words can describe. I do not expect others to agree with me; though I value their opinions despite our disagreements.As an adult my father has struggled to place food on our table and keep us from harms way. We had hard times… from living in tents to accepting food boxes at Christmas. But hard times never seemed as hard as they were. It was life as we knew it and my dad always encouraged us to be the best people that we could be no matter our circumstance. He set an example by showing us his unconditional love and spreading it to everyone he knew. If someone didn’t have food and we did… he shared. If someone didn’t have a place to stay and we did… he opened our home. My dad has taught me so many things. I have learned his compassion and his love for humankind even when I was a child and could not understand so many things.My father is insightful and deep but quiet and shy. By looking at him you would never expect the intellect and wisdom that lies within. On the surface he looks worn and tired… but at the core he is a well of goodness and knowledge. I strive to be more like that daily. His opinions are grounded and substantially backed up by years of reading and experience. I continue to learn from his actions.Last night I sent an e-mail to my dad telling him about my first week of graduate school. His reply was simple: “I am so proud of you. I cannot write like you but I hope you know I love you. -dad” As I read these simple words on the page I couldn’t help but have mixed emotions. It was him and his encouragement that gave me the foundation to accomplish something that he never could. He went to war so he never graduated high school. Here I am working on my Masters degree. I felt a strange sense of guilt as I thought about it all. He did what he could to provide me with the tools that I would need. He gave me the opportunity to do what he never had the opportunity to do. I may not have had the easiest childhood but he provided me with the insights and motivation to do my best and strive to continuously grow. He taught me that stagnation is never the answer, though he never actually said those words. He gave me his stubbornness which never allowed me to give up, even when I should.So today I called my dad. I listened to what he had to say about his garden and the goats they just purchased and how his life has been since retirement. And I was in awe… he sacrificed so much to make my life better, to make all of our lives better (siblings). It couldn’t have been easy.My parents were worried when I went away for college. They tried so hard to hold on, as our culture always seems to do. And there were battles in the beginning.  But we’ve worked through each of them and some where along the way he has become proud of me… despite my independent and hard headed ways. So they were disappointed when I went to Undergrad school but as I find myself going to Grad school I find them in a transition… they are pleased. This has taught me that even my parents have been growing through my experience. They have learned to value something that they cannot understand. This gives me hope as I learn to evaluate my own life… I know that like my parents, my dad especially, that I will not seize to grow and learn throughout my life.How can I be dissapointed?… I can’t.

Memoirs of a Cascade College Graduate

Dear Cascade,
I found you when I was still a child. Well, in my mind sixteen is still a child anyway. I had high hopes and a mind full of energy and drive. I had passion and aspirations. I believed that you my dear would take me far beyond my dreams. This past week I have seen photo after photo of you and many videos as well. To see these broke my heart. It was as if I was looking at pictures of a love one who had passed away. My heart cried though no tears fell from my eyes. I simpy miss you. So  tonight as I think of you I will write our story… the good times and the bad.

Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away (or so it seems now) I was a young high schooler. I began looking into colleges as a junior because all of my friends were but I never intended to go. I just wanted to fit in with them… and please my teachers. Summer of 2003 brought interesting feelings as one of my best friends prepared to leave for George Fox University. I felt awkward staying in high school another year without all of my friends but thought it was best anyway.

As part of Amy and I’s summer plans we attended the Rose Fest… against her mother’s wishes. Oh Cascade I had no idea you would make an impression on me this day. Amy and I stood in the autograph line to say goodbye to one of our favorite artists… who we had ironically ran into at the airport earlier that day (ha I almost forgot about that). Anyway we were standing in the autograph line when this very energentic guy turned around and started talking to us. He asked us what year we were in school, etc and then he started talking about his school. He went to this little campus that neither Amy or I had ever heard of and he appeared to absolutly love it. He talked about how they were all a family and how it had changed his life, etc. Amy and I kind of wrote it off. But then our little minds began to turn and we began to joke about you dear Cascade.

As a joke I visited Cascade College in November of 2003. It was a couple of days before my 17th birthday and I would be staying the night on campus. As I toured the small campus something came over me… fear. I had visited many campuses before this one but none of them had brought on fear. This place was different and as I looked inside myself I knew that this is where I would end up.  That night I stayed in Rachel’s room and watched Bat Thumb..haha. The next day we made a trip to Starbucks and sipped warm hot chocolate. It had been a good visit. I applied for admission and thenI left… changed.

A few weeks later my “acceptance letter” (hehe) arrived in the mail. It was the day of my winter formal. We had stopped to get the mail on the way to the dance… I remember it was raining pretty hard (I know imagine that… rain in Oregon!). I opened the small letter and saw the first word… Congratulations. I was excited because I knew… I just knew it would be where I would end up. I had applied for six colleges and universities and had been accepted to every single one. But Cascade chose me. Yes… you chose me. That night I sat down with my publications teacher and mapped out my future. I was going… I had decided I was going.

I told my parents about you not long after. They appeared to be rather upset about the whole idea. Shouting emerged… how will you pay for this! What were you thinking? Who put you up to this? You can’t afford this! Did you think we were going to pay for this?! I don’t think so. I walked to my room in dissapointment. I had hoped that they would be excited… at least as excited as I was. I had recieved just the opposite. I went to bed early that night… praying that there was some way that I could go… anyway that I could go. I could hear my older sister through the door. She was angry… “why can’t you just support her for once?” “Are you really that affraid of her failing?”  “She doesn’t expect you to pay for it. She hardly ever has you pay for anything?” “I’m so dissapointed in you guys.” and then she stomped away. Many mixed thoughts filled my mind as I fell asleep that night.

Each of the following weeks my parents would remind me of my lack of money. What they didn’t know… and wouldn’t listen to is  that I had been applying for scholarships for the last year and a half, my psychology teacher paid for my SAT’s, that I had been getting A’s in honors classes (that they didn’t even know I was in) and that I had been volunteering like crazy to build a resume.

Spring came and faded so quickly and high school was almost at a close. We had an awards assembly for the seniors, one which I tried not to tell my parents about. HOWEVER, the crazy people who were a part of the school MAILED my parents an invite. Now usually my parents didn’t go to such events but this one they decided to go to for some reason. I had kept my academic life a secret up until now… and now everything would come out in the open. I was terrified. If it would have just been my dad I would have been fine… he and I have always gotten along. However, my aunt had come along too. I knew that this would be weird. I didn’t like the gut wrenching feeling that toiled inside… TROUBLE.
We sat some where in the middle off to the side of the room. I asked if I could go sit by my friends and my aunt said yes. I wasn’t sure what to expect. First they announced most improved… I think that’s what my parents expected I would get. When they noticed that I didn’t I saw them kind of look over at me (but you can’t really improve A’s).  Then they gave out our letters for our letterman jacket… those didn’t appear to shock them. Yes… I was one of the nerds that got letters for things like theatre, vocal jazz, community service, concert choir, etc… oh yeah and Academics. That one did surprise them. Yikes. But I made it through that piece alive. Then the next part came… honor roll and presidents awards… both academic awards. When my name was called they looked over at me shocked. Whose child was this? They did not know about my secret academic life. The last part of the assembly was scholarships. So many were called out and I appeared to have been the recipiant of at least 1/3 of them.  My hard work had paid off. Little did I know that I would have recieve over $40,000.00 in scholarships and grants over the next four years.

I started packing my things up the week before I intended to leave for college. I intended to pay off the remaineder of my fees and buy my computer with the money I had recieved from the insurance claim of a nasty automobile accident two years prior. As soon as the check arrived I placed all of the money in a CD until I graduated from high school… I planned on using it for college though it wasn’t much.

As my last boxes were packed I asked my parents if they would be willing to give me a ride to the campus. They still did not believe that I was going. I had them look at my room and see that it was packed and they literally thought I was crazy… that I had made up some story about going to college and convinced myself that it was true. They refused to take me. I called my sister and told her what was going on. Her and her boyfriend drove to my house, helped me pack my things into the car and drove me to 9101 E. Burnside where I would start college. I was a little bummed that I didn’t have parents to go to the parent orientation with so I skipped it and stayed in my dorm room that night.

My roommate showed up the next day. She seemed nice enough but we had nothing at all in common. I felt awkward and out of place as I unpacked my… old things. Everything she owned had just been purchased even she looked new. She was gorgeous and it made me feel so plain. As I laid in bed that first night I could not sleep and I missed home. Everything about it felt awkward and uncomfortable and I felt as if I had made a mistake. I told myself to think about it in the morning and tried to force myself to go to sleep. I woke up the next day and started filling the walls with photo’s from my friends back home. I believe that helped but I couldn’t be certain. Next we were off to twin rocks for Freshman O.  I hungout with my roommate and her friends the whole time. I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t make new friends. Frankly it just made me uncomfortable. The only enjoyable piece that I remember was talking to Kristen about plays that she had planned on directing… and about VISIONS. I was excited to get involved in theatre again! That was the moment I decided that I would not be hanging out with my roommate on a regular basis. We would live together, probably like eachother… but we wouldn’t really be friends.

I made my first friends on the bus home from orientation. When we arrived back on campus we ate spaghetti o’s that were heated in the microwave for dinner. Jessica and Stacie lived on the second floor, while I lived on the third. I made frequent visits down stairs for the remainder of the semester.

Soon after school got into swing I had begun working two work study jobs to help pay for everything. I was exhausted but felt very greatful for the work that I had. My first workstudy position was in the cafeteria washing dishes. Luckily Robert was working in there at that time and he was showing me the ropes. He made work seem a little less… miserable. Though I hated feeling like I constantly smelt like nasty cafeteria food that would never wash off. I worked in the cafeteria for a year. New workers would come and go and each of us would find certain ways to try and make it fun. However, hours began to multiply and soon I was getting exhausted. There were some nights that we would be cleaning up until 10pm because others had skipped work for one reason or another.  My second job was cleaning the girls dorms…yikes. I very much disliked this job and ended up keeping it for only a semester! Girls are dirty!

In the begining of my freshman year Service clubs began to advertise their gear. Lambda’s wanted everyone to know they were Lambda’s and Delta’s wanted everyone to know they were Delta’s, etc. I remember one day I was late to chapel because of work. They had all of the freshman girls who had not yet pledged sit in one of the first three rows. I squeezed into a row with a bunch of people that I had not yet met. It was rush week and all of the clubs were talking about how great they were. When it was the Delta’s turn they got up… all of them got up and went to the front of chapel. I was the last one remaining in my row. There was literally no one else left.. just me. Weird huh! As rush week unfolded I began to think about possibly joining a club. I had no idea if I actually wanted to or not but I was considering.

I skipped the Delta rush that monday because I had no intention of becoming a Delta but I managed to make it to the rush party of the other two clubs. Early the next week I was pretty set on Lambda’s but several events leading up to my decision changed my mind. I remember the night before we did our public announcement I ran down to the first floor to tell Saryl my decision. I leaned over and wispered… Delta. She jumped up and down as she leaned over and said “me too.”

Initiations came and went. Friendships were formed and cliques created. That was my best year as a Delta. For the next three I was either inactive or only involved for a semester. The kind of service they did I was less passionate about. A lot of childcare! Which is important but I was more into poverty, etc.

I co-founded two clubs that year. The first was founded with Kristen… GREASE PAINT. and the second with Jen… The Psychology Club.

C.S. Lewis once said “I never knew that grief felt so much life fear.” and you know what… I understand.

Jump Into Life

I hate that when I begin to write something the stupid computer appears to have to refresh and erase all of my writings. It is here that I simply want to throw the computer off the top of a skyscraper. I think that its sudden crash to the pavement below would give me a sense of satisfaction. I can never seem to write whatever I have once written. It never sounds as good. It never reads as easy.

My mind has felt so rushed lately. I appear to always be on the go. Much like I was in undergrad without the burnt out feeling. I seek out peace within. I have no desire to gain the world but I do reject stagnation. I sit down and I meditate on all of the changes, of all that I am capable of becoming. I do not lose sight of who I am but I continuously strive to be who I am capable of becoming. I breathe in new insights and new ideas. Neurons fire to compensate for what once wasn’t there. New connections are gained daily while others are pruned. They say that brain plasticity dies with youth, that we become set in our ways and are incapable of change. I disagree. It’s our choice. Our brains are still quite malleable if we use them. If you don’t use it then you lose it.

I breathe in and I breathe out. the smell of the unburnt sage and sweet-grass lingers in the air. It is ready to say goodbye to the old and hello to the new. It’s ready to send it’s essence up into the sky and let life breathe in new beginnings. The universe is ready to give back the energy that I am sending out. I am willing to love without condition. Seeing everyone as my equal beside me. Though we may not be equal in all of our unique characteristics. I know there will always be people who are better at somethings. There will always be someone who is better off than me, and sadly always someone who is worse of. Some who are more stable and some who are less. But as we weigh it all together we truly become equals. We are all on the same journey.

So I breathe in and I breathe out. Concentrating on my breathing. Watching the movement of my lungs inside moving to a rhythm of its own. I concentrate on each breath, on each instant of life entering and exiting my body. And the tiny philosopher inside me asks my mind to define life. Some say that when your body’s brain and breath stops then your life is over. Others believe that the soul lives forever continuing from this life to the next. Both contradict one another. Then I am asked what the definition of death is. Is it that moment your heart refuses to start again? Is it the moment that they place you in the ground? Is death just a perception? The philosopher inside me wants to pick apart the views that were once placed inside my head… until everything contains reason. The philosopher inside me wants everything to make sense all of the time. The philosopher wants everything to have a solid reason behind it.

The psychology student in me wants to see the patterns behind everything. It wants to see where everyone has been and where they are going. The psychology major in me only sees the progress that others are making, not the mistakes that they have already made. It roots people on when they’ve gained grounding and overcome yet another obstacle. The psychology student in me loves to see progress… even if it’s just small.

The anthropologist in me sees the difference in each individual, recognizing that they each come from a different family setting, culture and faith tradition. The anthropologist in me begins to understand that people think differently because even if they grew up in the same community they were still brought up by a different environment. People simply see the world through different eyes. Some may see blue as blue and others may see it as green. Once we learn to view the world how they do we gain ground and perspective.  Can you imagine how colorful the world is once we learn to see all of the vibrant colors?  We only hinder ourselves if we choose to see with only our eyes. The anthropologist in me values the differences in people.

The humanist in me only sees the best in all people. The humanist in me believes that all people are capable of reaching the top of the pyramid. They just have to be able to see it within themselves.

The philanthropist in me wants to help everyone get back on top. It wants to see everyone smiling and everyone happy. It wants to make a fool of me just so I can see another laugh, hoping that they laughter is contagious. It wants to place everything at stake just to make the world a better place.

The realist in me sees the value in all of the above but also sees that there are times when these things are unfortunately unrealistic. Life requires balance. If there is one thing that I have learned it is that you cannot simply give… there are times that you have to take as well. Taking is a difficult lesson that I have  been learning my entire life. I feel that I might possibly be gaining some ground here but I’m not positive.

All I can be sure of is that this section of my life wont last forever and it is important to live it to the best of my ability… not striving to gain anything more than the lessons I am able to learn and the love that I am capable of giving. Everything else will just fall into place.

Breathe in… breathe out. Clear the mind and jump into life.