*courtesy of Charisma's J. Lee Grady. The website I retrieved this from is posted at the bottom of the post. I made some slight modifications that are more applicable with my personal beliefs and my intended audience.
We, as Americans, are blessed people. Unfortunately, we are also spoiled. We can get flustered during over the most marginal of inconveniences—like when our cellphones don’t get a good signal, when our flights are delayed, or when our laptops take too long to load a website. What we often forget to realize is that the vast majority of the world does not have iPhones, cannot afford air travel, and does not have computers.
As frustrating as those inconveniences may be, it is important to keep such moments into perspective. As you celebrate Thanksgiving Day, take into consideration this list of 10 blessings that are often taken for granted every single day.
1. Got clean water? The next time you uncap a bottle of water or grab a drink from the tap, remember that one in eight people in the world (that’s 884 million people) lack access to clean water supplies. Millions of women around the world spend several hours a day collecting water. When you take a five-minute shower, you use more water than a typical person in a developing country uses in a whole day.
2. Do you have a bathroom? About 40 percent of the world's population (2.6 billion people) do not have toilets. Lack of sanitation facilities spreads disease and is a major reason why more than 2 million people die annually of diarrhea.
3. How’s your electricity? The power in your house might be interrupted briefly a couple of times a year because of storms. But 1.6 billion people—a·quarter of humanity—live without any electricity. And, because of unreliable infrastructure, at least 2 billion people on earth don’t have any light at night.
4. Got a roof over your head? One billion people live in slums. That's almost one-sixth of the world’s population. Of this total, 640 million children live without adequate shelter; they live in cardboard boxes, tin-roofed shacks, one-room mud huts or filthy, crowded tenements. It’s been estimated that 1.4 billion people will live in slums by 2020. Meanwhile here in the United States, between 2.3 to 2.5 million people are classified as homeless.
5. Is there food on your table? In the United States we are battling an obesity epidemic. Yet according to UNICEF, 22,000 children die each day due to poverty. Approximately 790 million people in the developing world are chronically undernourished, and almost 28 percent of all children in developing countries are estimated to be underweight or stunted.
6. Got a stove? In developing countries, some 2.5 billion people use fuelwood, charcoal or animal dung to meet their energy needs for cooking. In sub-Saharan Africa, more than 80 percent of the population depends on these crude, traditional means for cooking, as do over half of the populations of India and China. The really sad part: Indoor air pollution resulting from the use of solid fuels claims the lives of 1.5 million people each year, more than half of them below the age of 5.
7. Got regular income? You may have had to take a pay cut during the recession. But keep in mind that at least 80 percent of humanity lives on less than $10 a day. The world's average income is about $7,000 a year. Still, only about 19 percent of the world's population lives in countries with per capita incomes at least this high.
8. Did you go to school? Nearly a billion people entered the 21st century unable to read a book or sign their names. Enrollment data shows that about 72 million children of primary school age in the developing world were not in school in 2005 (and 57 percent of them were girls).
9. Are you generally healthy? Americans face illness like people in other nations—and more than 12 million Americans are battling cancer in any given year. But many of us have access to health care. In the developing world, more than 2.2 million children die each year because they are not immunized. An estimated 40 million people in developing countries are living with HIV/AIDS. Every year there are 350–500 million cases of malaria, with 1 million fatalities, mostly in Africa.
10. Are you free to worship (or not to worship) the God of your choice? More than 400 Christians die for their faith every day around the world, and most of these believers suffer in Islamic countries—although the top hot spot for Christian persecution, according to Open Doors International, is the atheist regime of North Korea. Other religions have followers with similar fates.
While Thanksgiving Day is a day that encourages us to give thanks, it more importantly should serve as a reminder that we need to be more grateful for everything we have and everything take for granted on a daily basis.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving everybody,
-JTF
http://www.charismanews.com/opinion/32393-10-basic-blessings-you-should-be-thankful-for
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Dropped the ball this time, Emory. smh.
On September 14th, 2012, Emory University released news to the student body that, due to limited resources and "in order to ensure that [students] are immersed in an academic environment of the highest caliber," certain undergraduate academic programs and departments will be phased out of the university. Among them include Educational Studies, Journalism, and Visual Arts.
As you may know, I am an Educational Studies and Sociology double-major, meaning Emory kinda screwed one of my departments over. The following is an expression of my thoughts regarding this move. Because I'm trying to get it published in the school newspaper, the Emory Wheel,* this post is a bit more formal and serious than I would normally write, so sorry in advance for the lack of excitement and charisma.
Success! 9/18/2012 refer to the article here.
Dean Forman stated that Emory University will “phase out a small number of [its] undergraduate programs… in order to ensure that [students] are immersed in an academic environment of the highest caliber." By cutting the Division of Educational Studies, Emory University is straying away from its ultimate goal of reaching the highest level of academia. The Division of Educational Studies does two things exceptionally that promote a higher level of learning: (1) develop meaningful student-faculty relationships and (2) use applicable, practical, and interactive methods of learning.
The Division of Educational Studies exceptionally develops meaningful student-faculty relationships. Emory takes pride in having a low faculty-to-student ratio, which in turn allows students to truly connect and develop relationships with faculty members. In the Division of Educational Studies, I have multiple advisors who each have no more than 5-6 advisees. I meet with each of them on a regular basis, at least once a month, on their request. I’ve been fortunate to get to know them not only on a professional level but on a personal level as well.
On the flip side, in the Department of Sociology, my one advisor has approximately 50-60 advisees. He has never requested to meet with me. He does not know I am one of his advisees. He does not know my name. And I'm currently taking one of his classes.
The Division of Educational Studies actually understands, relative to other departments on campus, how to educate its students and how students learn. The department stresses the importance of engaged, practical, and interactive methods of learning. Methods include required tutoring sessions in public schools, creative and thought-provoking student-led discussions and presentations, and progressive and futuristic methods of learning and sharing knowledge such as creating video blogs and Google sites.
Conversely, I cannot count how many classes in other departments I’ve been in where a professor stands at the front of a room and lectures straight off of a powerpoint day after day, while the vast majority of the students are just surfing on facebook or ESPN, counting down till the class ends. Yet somehow, the professor falsely/naively believes that his/her students are actually learning something during those lectures. Many other professors believe that assigning two midterms and a final accurately measures how much a student understands material and gains long-term knowledge. We all know how that process works out: Cram the week before the exam. Take the exam. Somehow manage to get an A. Forget everything you just learned.
The decision that the university has made to close the Division of Educational Studies deeply frustrates and saddens me. While I am fortunate that the phase out part and eventual closing of the department will not have major implications on my personal academic agenda—the department will not be officially closed until the 2016-2017 school year—it is disappointing to know that Emory has chosen to deny current and future students the opportunity to learn in one of its most personal, practical, and interactive departments. Likewise, it is disappointing to know that many of Emory’s best educators are being forced to look for work elsewhere or join departments under the leadership of inferior professors and less effective methods of educating students.
While I am sure there are reasons that Emory University is closing the Division of Educational Studies, Emory’s inability to see what it is losing by doing so has me second-guessing Emory’s administrative leadership and decision-making, as well as Emory’s credibility as a liberal arts institution as a whole.
Success! 9/18/2012 refer to the article here.
Dean Forman stated that Emory University will “phase out a small number of [its] undergraduate programs… in order to ensure that [students] are immersed in an academic environment of the highest caliber." By cutting the Division of Educational Studies, Emory University is straying away from its ultimate goal of reaching the highest level of academia. The Division of Educational Studies does two things exceptionally that promote a higher level of learning: (1) develop meaningful student-faculty relationships and (2) use applicable, practical, and interactive methods of learning.
The Division of Educational Studies exceptionally develops meaningful student-faculty relationships. Emory takes pride in having a low faculty-to-student ratio, which in turn allows students to truly connect and develop relationships with faculty members. In the Division of Educational Studies, I have multiple advisors who each have no more than 5-6 advisees. I meet with each of them on a regular basis, at least once a month, on their request. I’ve been fortunate to get to know them not only on a professional level but on a personal level as well.
On the flip side, in the Department of Sociology, my one advisor has approximately 50-60 advisees. He has never requested to meet with me. He does not know I am one of his advisees. He does not know my name. And I'm currently taking one of his classes.
The Division of Educational Studies actually understands, relative to other departments on campus, how to educate its students and how students learn. The department stresses the importance of engaged, practical, and interactive methods of learning. Methods include required tutoring sessions in public schools, creative and thought-provoking student-led discussions and presentations, and progressive and futuristic methods of learning and sharing knowledge such as creating video blogs and Google sites.
Conversely, I cannot count how many classes in other departments I’ve been in where a professor stands at the front of a room and lectures straight off of a powerpoint day after day, while the vast majority of the students are just surfing on facebook or ESPN, counting down till the class ends. Yet somehow, the professor falsely/naively believes that his/her students are actually learning something during those lectures. Many other professors believe that assigning two midterms and a final accurately measures how much a student understands material and gains long-term knowledge. We all know how that process works out: Cram the week before the exam. Take the exam. Somehow manage to get an A. Forget everything you just learned.
The decision that the university has made to close the Division of Educational Studies deeply frustrates and saddens me. While I am fortunate that the phase out part and eventual closing of the department will not have major implications on my personal academic agenda—the department will not be officially closed until the 2016-2017 school year—it is disappointing to know that Emory has chosen to deny current and future students the opportunity to learn in one of its most personal, practical, and interactive departments. Likewise, it is disappointing to know that many of Emory’s best educators are being forced to look for work elsewhere or join departments under the leadership of inferior professors and less effective methods of educating students.
While I am sure there are reasons that Emory University is closing the Division of Educational Studies, Emory’s inability to see what it is losing by doing so has me second-guessing Emory’s administrative leadership and decision-making, as well as Emory’s credibility as a liberal arts institution as a whole.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Brian Scalabrine: A Star Like No Other
Today, September 6th, 2012, it was reported that former Boston Celtic Brian Scalabrine announced his retirement. The following is an paper I wrote about Brian Scalabrine, arguably my favorite basketball player, for a creative writing English Class my senior year of high school in 2010, while he was still on the Celtics and before he joined the Chicago Bulls. The paper was intended to figure out why we love Scalabrine so much.
“SCAL-uh-BREE-nee!!! Clap. Clap. Clap Clap Clap. SCAL-uh-BREE-nee!!! Clap. Clap. Clap Clap Clap.” Along with about 18,000 other Celtics fans in the TD Garden, I remain in my seat, waiting for the moment to happen. The home team is up by twenty, the game is already over. All of a sudden, it happens. The white guy with the red hair, headband, and warm-up shirt and pants jogs from the bench to the scorer’s table. Smiles break out our faces sitting in the nosebleeds. The atmosphere in the Garden starts picking up, as gasps and chatter fill and echo the arena.
“Tweeet.” The whistle blows. Play stops. “AAaank.” The buzzer sounds. Surrounded by thousands of rising fans, I rise to my feet in anticipation. “Brian Scalabrine replaces Kevin Garnett,” the PA announcer says in his hoarse voice. Collectively, as the Celtics fan base, we cheer, scream at the top of our lungs, and clap our hands as loud as possible—we are giving a standing ovation. All in attempt in display our love and affection to the player entering the game.
Celtics fans have been blessed with the opportunity to witness greats like Bob Cousy and Bill Russell in the late 1950’s and 60’s, to the big three of Larry Bird, Robert Parish, and Kevin Mchale of the 1980’s, to current-day stars like Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett. The Celtics have always had their share of stars—all of whom have brought the city of Boston a world championship. Brian Scalabrine, despite being on a championship winning Celtics team, is a star like no other.
The difference between Brian Scalabrine from other cherished players is simple: Relative to the rest of the NBA, Brian Scalabrine is not good at basketball. From a basketball point view, he isn’t special whatsoever. In fact, many basketball analysts, critics, and fans have said that he “is the worst player in NBA history.” It is very understandable for them to think that way. Scalabrine is not very athletic. He is not quick. He looks out of shape. He does not have spectacular skills in shooting, rebounding, passing, defense. Yet year after year he remains in the association, impacting Celtics fans in ways no one ever has before.
Although Scalabrine is certainly not cherished because of his basketball skills, there is no doubt that he is a fan favorite to Celtics fans. When Scalabrine gets in the game, Celtics fans’ eyes lock in on his every step, hoping he’ll do something special. Usually sitting outside the three point arc, we beg for his teammates to pass him the ball. When he gets the ball, numerous fans from the nosebleeds shout “Shoot It! Shoot It!” as everyone leans a few inches forward in their seats, hoping he does. Most of the time, he defers by passing it back to a teammate.
But when he does shoot… the atmosphere of the TD Garden reaches a level that is unmatchable, even in the closing seconds of a tied game. He gets the ball. We lean further forward in our seat and hold our mouths open. He starts his jump. We slowly rise from our seats. He releases the ball. Our eyes open wide, our hands put up in the air, our voices collaboratively fill the arena with the ascending “auhhhhhh” sound, building up the suspense for the shot. Then, one of two things happens.
(a) The shot misses, clanking off the rim. The voice filling the arena simultaneously shifts from the “auhhhhhh” to “awwwwww,” as we snap our fingers and reseat ourselves in disappointment, thinking “if only that had gone in…” and hoping that he gets another chance before the end of the night.
(b) The shot falls, swishing through the net. The voice of the arena shifts from “auhhhhh” to a much louder “YEAHHHHHHH!!!!!” “Brian Scalabrine for threeee” says the PA announcer as we remain standing, cheer, clap our hands, and high five our drunken neighbor spectators in signs of joyous group celebration and approval.
Ok. So Scalabrine can make a shot every once in a while in a meaningless moment where the game has already been decided. Probably about 70-80 percent of the players in the league can make the occasion three pointer in mop-up time. Yet we still go crazy when he makes it. Why do we go crazy? If Brian Scalabrine is not loved because of unique basketball skills, why is he loved? Perhaps his personality? His veteran leadership? His relatablity? A few more facts about Scalabrine. He’s white. He has red hair.
Fans might like him because of his charming attitude on and off the court and as a person in general. Scalabrine is a spectacular teammate, a well-seasoned veteran. Even though he has proven that he has a high basketball IQ by making smart decisions on the court, that he can occasionally hit three pointers, and that he can play above average perimeter defense, he understands that his role on the team is as emotional leader that subs into the game when a teammate needs rest or is injured. Despite playing sparingly in meaningful games, he has never openly complained about his role. Willing to “take one for the team,” he is vocal and opinionated, always trying to make his team better. He is regularly seen teaching his knowledge to younger teammates. He is the first one cheering off of the bench after timeouts, always clapping his hands, giving high fives and fist pounds, or giving chest bumps to teammates who are in the game, bringing the Celtics necessary enthusiasm and support on a daily basis.
Off the court, Scalabrine has an even stronger resume for being well-liked. His appearances following games on press conferences and sports TV and radio shows display his classy, funny, laid-back personality. In press conferences following the Celtics’ NBA championship in 2008, he joked and overemphasized about how he was a main reason the Celtics were world champions despite not playing a single minute in the NBA finals. On a local TV show, he joked about how in fifty years, his 1.8 points per game and 1.6 rebounds per game during that championship season would be remembered as 18 points and 16 rebounds per game, as the periods would smudge, resulting in him telling his grandchildren he was an MVP. His appearances on talk shows and press conferences can easily be found on Youtube, next to clips including his highlight tapes consisting of mediocre dunks and rebounds, parodies of commericials made for legends like Michael Jordan, and even video clips of him in an unofficial dance contest, resulting in a victory by showing of his mastery of the moonwalk.
But then, of course, there is a less friendly, more controversial theory behind the unique praise of Brian Scalabrine, the elephant in the room. Do we, as Celtics fans, love Brian Scalabrine just because he is white?
There is no denying the fact that race contributes to Scalabrine’s unusual likeability. About 75% of the American population today is Caucasian. In the National Basketball Association, only about 7-10 percent of players are American-born Caucasians. The region of New England is one of the least racially diverse regions in the country and has a greater ratio of Caucasian to non-Caucasian population ratio than the general U.S. The Boston Celtics, whose mascot is “Lucky the Leprechaun,” is a stereotypical name for a basketball team that associates itself with Boston’s Irish population and history. Many fans and professional athletes alike, including Major League Baseball’s career home-run leader Barry Bonds, have claimed that Boston is one of the most racist cities in the country. Brian Scalabrine is the only white player on the Boston Celtics. Is this all just one big coincidence?
If race is the main reason we love Brian Scalabrine does that mean that we don’t really love him at all? That we only “love” him because he’s that token white guy on the bench that looks like an oversized leprechaun and not because he is Brian Scalabrine? Does that mean that all of the standing ovations, the “SCAL-uh-BREE-nee” chants, the “SCAL will you marry me?” signs, the Youtube videos, etc. we have created for him are nothing of true value towards the love of Scalabrine and just a mockery of him because he’s white? Is this all just one big joke, one big parody that no one takes seriously? After all, some fans have gone lengths to be quoted saying that “Scalabrine is more of a team mascot than an actual player for the Celtics.” Is this just another example of us Americans being racist pigs showing that we have still not fully overcome slavery and the civil rights movement and that there is still extreme levels of racism in the United States, despite its status as the most diverse country in the world?
Brian Scalabrine is not dumb. He realizes the difference between perception and reality. There is no doubt in his mind that many of his fans like him because he is that token ginger-haired white guy and not because of his basketball skills and all the hard work he has put into his profession. He understands that if he was an African-American it would be very unlikely that he would have any sort of extra attention and fame. One time, when asked to complete the sentence “As long as [The Celtics] have Brian Scalabrine they will…” Scalabrine answered confidently “always have a white dude on their team.” He knows the truth. And he accepts it. Just like he knows his role as a player on the Celtics, he knows his role as a public figure in Boston. The truth is that Brian Scalabrine is the only white dude on the Celtics.
Although race certainly is a part of Scalabrine’s praise, it isn’t the sole reason. It is in Scalabrine’s power to determine whether or not he wants the special attention. In fact, he draws his own attention and praise. After all, the Celtics have had many other token American white guys on their team in the past decade. They’ve even had white guys that started games and made significant contributions on the stat sheet. But none of them have received even a fraction of the praise that Scalabrine gets. So there has to be something else.
The thing that truly makes Scalabrine a special player is his relatability. Yes, he is white. But it is much more than that. Unlike other white guys in the NBA, who clearly look like athletic freaks of nature, Scalabrine looks more like our middle aged neighbor sitting on the couch than an NBA player.” He cheers at Celtics games just as much as we do. He doesn’t act like an star athlete. He’s not arrogant, not cocky. If you met him (other than the fact he is 6’9”), you’d think was more of a Celtics fan than an actual Celtics player.
And that might just be the reason why Celtics fans love him so much. Scalabrine is the classic underdog story. He’s the guy that doesn’t belong in the NBA. But year after year, he sticks around. The average Celtics fan is not a player in the NBA. The average Celtics fan played basketball when he was younger, only to learn that he was unable to continue his basketball career because he was too slow, too unathletic, not skilled, not very coordinated. The average Celtics fan is that middle aged average guy that loves sports but just isn’t good enough to play them professionally, so he sits in the stands. Brian Scalabrine is the closest thing to the average Celtics fan actually in the game.
Celtics fans see themselves in Brian Scalabrine. He’s just that average dude that made it to the pros, the freakishly athletic black man’s game, making $3.4 million a year. From our point of view, Brian Scalabrine is an outlier. He’s one of us and he plays for our beloved team, for our beloved city. He brings us closer together as one big community. Maybe we do like him because he’s that token white ginger who looks more like the average Irish white guy than a professional basketball player. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
The last Celtics game I went to, which was a few weeks ago, one fan’s shirt caught my attention as he was shown on the jumbotron at the TD Garden. It was the Barrack Obama “HOPE” shirt, but instead of Obama’s face submerged in red, white and blue, it displayed Scalabrine’s face submerged in the Celtics’ green,white and yellow. If Brian Scalabrine can make it to the NBA, we can do anything, right?
"SCAL-uh-BREE-nee!!! Clap. Clap. Clap Clap Clap. SCAL-uh-BREE-nee!!! Clap. Clap. Clap Clap Clap.” We lean further forward in our seats. He has the ball. Our mouths start to open. He starts his jump. We slowly rise from our seats. The ball is released from his hand. “Auhhhhhh…” Our eyes open wide, our hands put up in the air.
“YEAHHHHH!!!!! We all scream and high-five each other as the ball swishes through the net. Maybe it’s because he’s funny, maybe because it’s because he gives us hope, maybe it’s because he’s white and looks like a big leprechaun. It doesn’t matter. We cheer for Brian Scalabrine. His success makes us happy. He gives us another reason to come out to the game. Brian Scalabrine will only be around a few more years. Might as well enjoy the ride.
The Legend Himself
“Tweeet.” The whistle blows. Play stops. “AAaank.” The buzzer sounds. Surrounded by thousands of rising fans, I rise to my feet in anticipation. “Brian Scalabrine replaces Kevin Garnett,” the PA announcer says in his hoarse voice. Collectively, as the Celtics fan base, we cheer, scream at the top of our lungs, and clap our hands as loud as possible—we are giving a standing ovation. All in attempt in display our love and affection to the player entering the game.
Celtics fans have been blessed with the opportunity to witness greats like Bob Cousy and Bill Russell in the late 1950’s and 60’s, to the big three of Larry Bird, Robert Parish, and Kevin Mchale of the 1980’s, to current-day stars like Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett. The Celtics have always had their share of stars—all of whom have brought the city of Boston a world championship. Brian Scalabrine, despite being on a championship winning Celtics team, is a star like no other.
The difference between Brian Scalabrine from other cherished players is simple: Relative to the rest of the NBA, Brian Scalabrine is not good at basketball. From a basketball point view, he isn’t special whatsoever. In fact, many basketball analysts, critics, and fans have said that he “is the worst player in NBA history.” It is very understandable for them to think that way. Scalabrine is not very athletic. He is not quick. He looks out of shape. He does not have spectacular skills in shooting, rebounding, passing, defense. Yet year after year he remains in the association, impacting Celtics fans in ways no one ever has before.
Although Scalabrine is certainly not cherished because of his basketball skills, there is no doubt that he is a fan favorite to Celtics fans. When Scalabrine gets in the game, Celtics fans’ eyes lock in on his every step, hoping he’ll do something special. Usually sitting outside the three point arc, we beg for his teammates to pass him the ball. When he gets the ball, numerous fans from the nosebleeds shout “Shoot It! Shoot It!” as everyone leans a few inches forward in their seats, hoping he does. Most of the time, he defers by passing it back to a teammate.
But when he does shoot… the atmosphere of the TD Garden reaches a level that is unmatchable, even in the closing seconds of a tied game. He gets the ball. We lean further forward in our seat and hold our mouths open. He starts his jump. We slowly rise from our seats. He releases the ball. Our eyes open wide, our hands put up in the air, our voices collaboratively fill the arena with the ascending “auhhhhhh” sound, building up the suspense for the shot. Then, one of two things happens.
(a) The shot misses, clanking off the rim. The voice filling the arena simultaneously shifts from the “auhhhhhh” to “awwwwww,” as we snap our fingers and reseat ourselves in disappointment, thinking “if only that had gone in…” and hoping that he gets another chance before the end of the night.
(b) The shot falls, swishing through the net. The voice of the arena shifts from “auhhhhh” to a much louder “YEAHHHHHHH!!!!!” “Brian Scalabrine for threeee” says the PA announcer as we remain standing, cheer, clap our hands, and high five our drunken neighbor spectators in signs of joyous group celebration and approval.
Ok. So Scalabrine can make a shot every once in a while in a meaningless moment where the game has already been decided. Probably about 70-80 percent of the players in the league can make the occasion three pointer in mop-up time. Yet we still go crazy when he makes it. Why do we go crazy? If Brian Scalabrine is not loved because of unique basketball skills, why is he loved? Perhaps his personality? His veteran leadership? His relatablity? A few more facts about Scalabrine. He’s white. He has red hair.
Fans might like him because of his charming attitude on and off the court and as a person in general. Scalabrine is a spectacular teammate, a well-seasoned veteran. Even though he has proven that he has a high basketball IQ by making smart decisions on the court, that he can occasionally hit three pointers, and that he can play above average perimeter defense, he understands that his role on the team is as emotional leader that subs into the game when a teammate needs rest or is injured. Despite playing sparingly in meaningful games, he has never openly complained about his role. Willing to “take one for the team,” he is vocal and opinionated, always trying to make his team better. He is regularly seen teaching his knowledge to younger teammates. He is the first one cheering off of the bench after timeouts, always clapping his hands, giving high fives and fist pounds, or giving chest bumps to teammates who are in the game, bringing the Celtics necessary enthusiasm and support on a daily basis.
Off the court, Scalabrine has an even stronger resume for being well-liked. His appearances following games on press conferences and sports TV and radio shows display his classy, funny, laid-back personality. In press conferences following the Celtics’ NBA championship in 2008, he joked and overemphasized about how he was a main reason the Celtics were world champions despite not playing a single minute in the NBA finals. On a local TV show, he joked about how in fifty years, his 1.8 points per game and 1.6 rebounds per game during that championship season would be remembered as 18 points and 16 rebounds per game, as the periods would smudge, resulting in him telling his grandchildren he was an MVP. His appearances on talk shows and press conferences can easily be found on Youtube, next to clips including his highlight tapes consisting of mediocre dunks and rebounds, parodies of commericials made for legends like Michael Jordan, and even video clips of him in an unofficial dance contest, resulting in a victory by showing of his mastery of the moonwalk.
If only Scalabrine was on the cover of NBA 2K10...
There is no denying the fact that race contributes to Scalabrine’s unusual likeability. About 75% of the American population today is Caucasian. In the National Basketball Association, only about 7-10 percent of players are American-born Caucasians. The region of New England is one of the least racially diverse regions in the country and has a greater ratio of Caucasian to non-Caucasian population ratio than the general U.S. The Boston Celtics, whose mascot is “Lucky the Leprechaun,” is a stereotypical name for a basketball team that associates itself with Boston’s Irish population and history. Many fans and professional athletes alike, including Major League Baseball’s career home-run leader Barry Bonds, have claimed that Boston is one of the most racist cities in the country. Brian Scalabrine is the only white player on the Boston Celtics. Is this all just one big coincidence?
If race is the main reason we love Brian Scalabrine does that mean that we don’t really love him at all? That we only “love” him because he’s that token white guy on the bench that looks like an oversized leprechaun and not because he is Brian Scalabrine? Does that mean that all of the standing ovations, the “SCAL-uh-BREE-nee” chants, the “SCAL will you marry me?” signs, the Youtube videos, etc. we have created for him are nothing of true value towards the love of Scalabrine and just a mockery of him because he’s white? Is this all just one big joke, one big parody that no one takes seriously? After all, some fans have gone lengths to be quoted saying that “Scalabrine is more of a team mascot than an actual player for the Celtics.” Is this just another example of us Americans being racist pigs showing that we have still not fully overcome slavery and the civil rights movement and that there is still extreme levels of racism in the United States, despite its status as the most diverse country in the world?
Brian Scalabrine is not dumb. He realizes the difference between perception and reality. There is no doubt in his mind that many of his fans like him because he is that token ginger-haired white guy and not because of his basketball skills and all the hard work he has put into his profession. He understands that if he was an African-American it would be very unlikely that he would have any sort of extra attention and fame. One time, when asked to complete the sentence “As long as [The Celtics] have Brian Scalabrine they will…” Scalabrine answered confidently “always have a white dude on their team.” He knows the truth. And he accepts it. Just like he knows his role as a player on the Celtics, he knows his role as a public figure in Boston. The truth is that Brian Scalabrine is the only white dude on the Celtics.
Although race certainly is a part of Scalabrine’s praise, it isn’t the sole reason. It is in Scalabrine’s power to determine whether or not he wants the special attention. In fact, he draws his own attention and praise. After all, the Celtics have had many other token American white guys on their team in the past decade. They’ve even had white guys that started games and made significant contributions on the stat sheet. But none of them have received even a fraction of the praise that Scalabrine gets. So there has to be something else.
The thing that truly makes Scalabrine a special player is his relatability. Yes, he is white. But it is much more than that. Unlike other white guys in the NBA, who clearly look like athletic freaks of nature, Scalabrine looks more like our middle aged neighbor sitting on the couch than an NBA player.” He cheers at Celtics games just as much as we do. He doesn’t act like an star athlete. He’s not arrogant, not cocky. If you met him (other than the fact he is 6’9”), you’d think was more of a Celtics fan than an actual Celtics player.
Just picked this guy up in the mail!
And that might just be the reason why Celtics fans love him so much. Scalabrine is the classic underdog story. He’s the guy that doesn’t belong in the NBA. But year after year, he sticks around. The average Celtics fan is not a player in the NBA. The average Celtics fan played basketball when he was younger, only to learn that he was unable to continue his basketball career because he was too slow, too unathletic, not skilled, not very coordinated. The average Celtics fan is that middle aged average guy that loves sports but just isn’t good enough to play them professionally, so he sits in the stands. Brian Scalabrine is the closest thing to the average Celtics fan actually in the game.
Celtics fans see themselves in Brian Scalabrine. He’s just that average dude that made it to the pros, the freakishly athletic black man’s game, making $3.4 million a year. From our point of view, Brian Scalabrine is an outlier. He’s one of us and he plays for our beloved team, for our beloved city. He brings us closer together as one big community. Maybe we do like him because he’s that token white ginger who looks more like the average Irish white guy than a professional basketball player. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
The last Celtics game I went to, which was a few weeks ago, one fan’s shirt caught my attention as he was shown on the jumbotron at the TD Garden. It was the Barrack Obama “HOPE” shirt, but instead of Obama’s face submerged in red, white and blue, it displayed Scalabrine’s face submerged in the Celtics’ green,white and yellow. If Brian Scalabrine can make it to the NBA, we can do anything, right?
"SCAL-uh-BREE-nee!!! Clap. Clap. Clap Clap Clap. SCAL-uh-BREE-nee!!! Clap. Clap. Clap Clap Clap.” We lean further forward in our seats. He has the ball. Our mouths start to open. He starts his jump. We slowly rise from our seats. The ball is released from his hand. “Auhhhhhh…” Our eyes open wide, our hands put up in the air.
“YEAHHHHH!!!!! We all scream and high-five each other as the ball swishes through the net. Maybe it’s because he’s funny, maybe because it’s because he gives us hope, maybe it’s because he’s white and looks like a big leprechaun. It doesn’t matter. We cheer for Brian Scalabrine. His success makes us happy. He gives us another reason to come out to the game. Brian Scalabrine will only be around a few more years. Might as well enjoy the ride.
Best Video Ever!
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Remembering the Fourth of July
The Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays for a handful of reasons--day off from work, good food, long weekend, fireworks, etc. The main reason that I am particularly fond of Fourth of July, however, is that it is arguably the easiest holiday to remember exactly where you were, who you were with, and what you did that particular day/night, even more so than the more popular holidays such as Thanksgiving and Christmas.
For example, six years ago, the summer of '06, when I was part of a month long "Hiking Hornets" Camping Trip around the U.S. Western States with a class full of recently graduated eighth graders. We spent the whole day traveling via car across the state of Nevada, finally arriving at our campground located in North Lake Tahoe at dusk. That gave us just enough time to set up our smelly tents (yes, my tent was one of the smelliest) on the campground, walk over to the lake, and watch the fireworks show on the South side of the lake, over 10 miles away. The fireworks were tiny from our perspective, but sitting bundled up in the dark and cold, yet enjoying the satisfaction of our long journey and day with a brilliant fireworks display couldn't have ended our day on a better note.
Or how about three years ago, the summer of '09, when I was studying abroad in China. We spent the entire day of the Fourth on an eight mile hike on the Great Wall of China, a hike that took several exhausting, sun-baked hours, steep inclines, narrow bridges and a swim in possibly the clearest, most picturesque river cutting through a valley. We got back into Beijing just in time for dinner, starving, and only then did we realize that it was the Fourth (stupid time difference) and decide to eat out at an Chinese-ized "American" Restaurant (as opposed to an Americanized Chinese Restaurant in the states) in honor of America's birthday. Granted, the food was really bad (it consisted of undersized, over cooked burgers and poorly executed cheese steak, but what do you expect out of a restaurant that was known to us as and was advertised selling "Beefsteak" ), and resulted in most of the group resorting for a second dinner at McDonald's*. Sure it wasn't the most traditional, or even tasty fourth, but it was a memorable one to say the least.
And my personal favorite, last year, the summer of '11, when I was spending the weekend of the fourth with my beautiful girlfriend in Seattle. We were blessed with perfect 70 degree and sunny weather (which is asking a lot out of Seattle), and spent the day at Seattle's Gas Works Park, only to conclude with what I have determined as the best fireworks show I've ever witnessed. GasWorks Park has its viewers sit on a hill, which overlooks the large and beautiful Lake Union, with the Seattle skyline in the backdrop in distance, and the fireworks launching from a large ship from the middle of the Lake. I'll always remember standing on the Gas Works Park hill looking up over Lake Union at the plethora of colorful flares and wheels lighting up the Seattle night sky, with my girlfriend under my arm, and actually appreciating Katy Perry's "Firework" blasting in the background for the first time. Best Fourth Ever.
This summer, I don't have huge plans for the fourth. I don't have the luxury that is traveling on this special holiday (stupid calendar/Wednesday), nor do I have the luxury of being in the company of my wonderful and loving girlfriend. I don't even have the luxury of staying at my home and host a gathering. I'll be chilling, grilling (hopefully), and hanging with one of my best childhood buddies and his family. Nothing too big, nothing too special, just a good, solid day with some awesome people.
Sure, where you are and who you are with will definitely make a large impact on how memorable or awesome your Fourth will end up being. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. Whether you are traveling, partying with friends, watching some fireworks with the girl/guy friend, or relaxing with the family, remember to live in the moment and have a good time. And while you definitely shouldn't do something you'll regret the next morning, if given the opportunity to do something truly memorable, go for it. After all, who knows, this year's Fourth could very well be once again be filled with moments and memories that will be remembered for years to come.
Enjoy the Fourth everybody,
--JTF
*(this was also the night we purchased li laoshi his large brown ceramic penis, for those who understand).
For example, six years ago, the summer of '06, when I was part of a month long "Hiking Hornets" Camping Trip around the U.S. Western States with a class full of recently graduated eighth graders. We spent the whole day traveling via car across the state of Nevada, finally arriving at our campground located in North Lake Tahoe at dusk. That gave us just enough time to set up our smelly tents (yes, my tent was one of the smelliest) on the campground, walk over to the lake, and watch the fireworks show on the South side of the lake, over 10 miles away. The fireworks were tiny from our perspective, but sitting bundled up in the dark and cold, yet enjoying the satisfaction of our long journey and day with a brilliant fireworks display couldn't have ended our day on a better note.
Or how about three years ago, the summer of '09, when I was studying abroad in China. We spent the entire day of the Fourth on an eight mile hike on the Great Wall of China, a hike that took several exhausting, sun-baked hours, steep inclines, narrow bridges and a swim in possibly the clearest, most picturesque river cutting through a valley. We got back into Beijing just in time for dinner, starving, and only then did we realize that it was the Fourth (stupid time difference) and decide to eat out at an Chinese-ized "American" Restaurant (as opposed to an Americanized Chinese Restaurant in the states) in honor of America's birthday. Granted, the food was really bad (it consisted of undersized, over cooked burgers and poorly executed cheese steak, but what do you expect out of a restaurant that was known to us as and was advertised selling "Beefsteak" ), and resulted in most of the group resorting for a second dinner at McDonald's*. Sure it wasn't the most traditional, or even tasty fourth, but it was a memorable one to say the least.
And my personal favorite, last year, the summer of '11, when I was spending the weekend of the fourth with my beautiful girlfriend in Seattle. We were blessed with perfect 70 degree and sunny weather (which is asking a lot out of Seattle), and spent the day at Seattle's Gas Works Park, only to conclude with what I have determined as the best fireworks show I've ever witnessed. GasWorks Park has its viewers sit on a hill, which overlooks the large and beautiful Lake Union, with the Seattle skyline in the backdrop in distance, and the fireworks launching from a large ship from the middle of the Lake. I'll always remember standing on the Gas Works Park hill looking up over Lake Union at the plethora of colorful flares and wheels lighting up the Seattle night sky, with my girlfriend under my arm, and actually appreciating Katy Perry's "Firework" blasting in the background for the first time. Best Fourth Ever.
Sure, where you are and who you are with will definitely make a large impact on how memorable or awesome your Fourth will end up being. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. Whether you are traveling, partying with friends, watching some fireworks with the girl/guy friend, or relaxing with the family, remember to live in the moment and have a good time. And while you definitely shouldn't do something you'll regret the next morning, if given the opportunity to do something truly memorable, go for it. After all, who knows, this year's Fourth could very well be once again be filled with moments and memories that will be remembered for years to come.
Enjoy the Fourth everybody,
--JTF
*(this was also the night we purchased li laoshi his large brown ceramic penis, for those who understand).
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Thanks for the hospitality.
This week, I've finally settled down at my aunt's house, the place that I will be residing for the rest of the summer. Following finals, instead of going straight home like so many of my peers, I've been traveling up and down the east coast for the past thirty something days, sleeping at a new place every couple of nights. Given that I'm a college student who doesn't have a lot of money, I've been frequently playing my familiar role as a "couch surfer."
A couch surfer, for those who are unfamiliar with the the term, is a person who spends nights at friends' and families' homes. Although the term "couch surfing" often results in the couch surfer sleeping on, as the term describes, a couch, it does not necessarily mean the surfer has to sleep on the couch. Floors, basements, guestrooms, air mattresses, futons--they're all game. As couch surfers we are still humans, and thus require food in addition to a place to sleep. In essence, couch surfers depend on the selflessness, and hospitality of one's family and close friends.
My friends and families have gone above and beyond my couch surfing expectations in providing me hospitality over the years. I have people that not only want me to stay with them, but they will do anything to make sure that I do. I have families that ask me to stay the night the day I see them and other families who want me to spend the night even though I haven't seen them in five years. I've had experiences where a friend has sacrificed his own bed so I could sleep in it and another where a friend insists that I sleep on his little brother's bed--and that they'll move him to another room. I've had a friend who helped me crash in his girlfriend's (whom I had never previously met) room because there were extra mattresses there. I have people that are willing to host me despite the fact they'll be working throughout the day and they won't be there when I wake up, because they know I need the place to crash. I know families who get mad at me for asking them if I can spend the night, because I should know that their doors are always open for me.
The hospitality I've received while couch surfing made me realize how fortunate and grateful I am to have the friends and family who have supported me when I needed them the most, not just this past month, but throughout my lifetime. My friends and family continue to find new ways to amaze me, in ways that far exceed a simple invitation to let me sleep on their couch. But for anyone who has ever opened up their home to me, I'd just like to say,
Thanks for the hospitality.
--JTF
A couch surfer, for those who are unfamiliar with the the term, is a person who spends nights at friends' and families' homes. Although the term "couch surfing" often results in the couch surfer sleeping on, as the term describes, a couch, it does not necessarily mean the surfer has to sleep on the couch. Floors, basements, guestrooms, air mattresses, futons--they're all game. As couch surfers we are still humans, and thus require food in addition to a place to sleep. In essence, couch surfers depend on the selflessness, and hospitality of one's family and close friends.
My friends and families have gone above and beyond my couch surfing expectations in providing me hospitality over the years. I have people that not only want me to stay with them, but they will do anything to make sure that I do. I have families that ask me to stay the night the day I see them and other families who want me to spend the night even though I haven't seen them in five years. I've had experiences where a friend has sacrificed his own bed so I could sleep in it and another where a friend insists that I sleep on his little brother's bed--and that they'll move him to another room. I've had a friend who helped me crash in his girlfriend's (whom I had never previously met) room because there were extra mattresses there. I have people that are willing to host me despite the fact they'll be working throughout the day and they won't be there when I wake up, because they know I need the place to crash. I know families who get mad at me for asking them if I can spend the night, because I should know that their doors are always open for me.
The hospitality I've received while couch surfing made me realize how fortunate and grateful I am to have the friends and family who have supported me when I needed them the most, not just this past month, but throughout my lifetime. My friends and family continue to find new ways to amaze me, in ways that far exceed a simple invitation to let me sleep on their couch. But for anyone who has ever opened up their home to me, I'd just like to say,
Thanks for the hospitality.
--JTF
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Real Good
For those of you who don't know me well, I NEED my sleep. I'm one of those guys who consistently needs a good night's sleep (9-10 hours a night) in order to not feel like shit throughout the day. I no longer register for classes before 11:30, and I wholeheartedly believe that a good night's sleep may be the single most important factor into how happy, efficient, and productive I'll be at nearly every aspect in life.
Today is Saturday night. Following completion of this blog, I will be getting a good night's sleep for the first time in over a week. I've had to wake up before 830 for eight consecutive days now--ultimate frisbee tournaments (yeah juice!), finals week, and working for commencement housing does that to you. Needless to say, I've been pretty worn out this week, pretty much running on fumes all week.
Earlier this morning and last night, due in large part to my exhaustion and lack of sleep, working for Commencement Housing felt like the worst thing ever to me. We were pretty much the university's bitches--doing things like cleaning rooms, lofting beds, making beds, hanging up signs, etc. Don't get me wrong, my bosses and co-workers are all really chill and understanding and I'd much rather be here than sleeping in someones basement god knows where, but 6 people having to turn 75 freshman dorm rooms into 75 hotel guest rooms in a 36 hour period... its a shit ton of work that takes much longer than you think it would. So we were in a major time crunch--we started at 5pm on Thursday (move-out day and the day after my last final) and worked nonstop (with short food breaks) til midnight. The next day, Friday, we worked a nearly inhumane 15.5 hours from 9am nonstop til 12:30am Saturday Morning. I guess it wouldn't have been that bad if I had more than a one hour turnaround period from moving my shit out from my dorm and taking finals the previous day, both of which i was up bright n' early to get done. The bottom line is, during that work late Friday night, we were all roasted, done. But we couldn't complain, we all had to work super hard and efficient and get the job done, because if we didn't, we'd just have to work longer and prevent our already exhausted bodies from getting more sleep. It was literally the hardest that I've had to work this semester (including academics during finals week), and instead of feeling accomplished after completed it, we were feeling more relieved that we got to finally go to bed.
As we were working, Emory also assigned a bunch of the custodians from other buildings on staff to help clean the dorms being flipped into hotels. One of the custodians was Patrick, who happened to be the guy who cleaned my residence hall throughout this past year. Patrick and I had been friendly with one another as the year progressed, routinely greeting each other in the hallways and conversing in small talk. It wasn't until this past week, during finals, when we finally got to knowing each other on a first name basis.
So anyways, I was talking to Patrick as we crossed paths in the freshman dorm/hotel this (Sat) morning. I talked to him about how much I'd been working, referring to the 15.5 hr shift I worked resulting in me going to bed at 1:30ish and having to wakeup at 7:15 this morning, and my general state of exhaustion.I tried to imply to Patrick that this working gig was way harder/exhausting than school for me, finals included, but wasn't sure if I actually got those words out to him.
Patrick's response to my comments is what got to me. In his friendly manner, he also talked about his long work hours (he was called to work overtime till 11 Friday night on the the hotel/dorm as well, he usually gets off at 3pm), and similar to me, he talked about how he couldn't get to bed until 1:30am last night (to watch the end of the grizzlies/clippers game, for that matter). He also had to wake up early for extra hours this morning...at 4:30am. 3 hours of sleep. Then back to work.
And just like that, I realized I had momentarily become everything that I spend so much time preaching against. There I was complaining about how hard I'd been working and how tired I was only to be completely one-upped by a guy who does this kind of work for his career. At that split second, I realized I was a huge bitch. There I was, the one who APPLIED and CHOSE to do this bitch-work for commencement housing for a week, making $10 an hour, getting paid meal breaks, provided meals, a furnished room to sleep in on campus, etc, complaining to a guy who does bitch work everyday, brought his own meals, probably doesn't get paid for a meal break, has no furnished room to sleep in on campus, and probably does his job because he has to put food on the table, not cause he wants to make some pocket money for the summer. Yet he had the smile on his face, just doing what he had to do.
Here's what I (re?)learned out of this whole shindig. I have it real good. I lived a privileged life, I study at a top university, I have a caring family with enough money. Yeah, school can really suck sometimes, but in pure honesty, it's not that bad and is often really fun. Who wouldn't want a life revolved around an awesome and beautiful girl, basketball, frisbees, partying, and chilling with a bit of academics sprinkled on top?
School might be THE EASIEST JOB WE'LL EVER HAVE, definitely easier than doing nonstop bitch-work for commencement, and probably easier than any "real" job. My life's always going to be more privileged/easier than the likes of Patrick's, no matter how poorly I did on my last final, no matter how low my GPA is. Not only that, but my high status in society has much less to do with my efforts in getting here than society makes us believe and much more to do with how everything in my life was put in place for me to get to where I am today. Basically what I'm saying is we didn't HAVE to work extremely extremely hard (relative to people like Patrick, who work much harder than us on a daily basis) to get where we are today... it kinda just happened.
I'm not saying we shouldn't work hard or make the best of what we've got. I'm just saying that whatever we do (especially while we're still in college), we should appreciate and enjoy it more and be happier while we're doing it. Yeah some times are gonna suck and be rough, but during those times, it's important to keep things in perspective and look at the big picture, because the truth is, we've all got it real good.
--JTF
My future posts will be less long/intense. I promise. --JTF
Today is Saturday night. Following completion of this blog, I will be getting a good night's sleep for the first time in over a week. I've had to wake up before 830 for eight consecutive days now--ultimate frisbee tournaments (yeah juice!), finals week, and working for commencement housing does that to you. Needless to say, I've been pretty worn out this week, pretty much running on fumes all week.
Earlier this morning and last night, due in large part to my exhaustion and lack of sleep, working for Commencement Housing felt like the worst thing ever to me. We were pretty much the university's bitches--doing things like cleaning rooms, lofting beds, making beds, hanging up signs, etc. Don't get me wrong, my bosses and co-workers are all really chill and understanding and I'd much rather be here than sleeping in someones basement god knows where, but 6 people having to turn 75 freshman dorm rooms into 75 hotel guest rooms in a 36 hour period... its a shit ton of work that takes much longer than you think it would. So we were in a major time crunch--we started at 5pm on Thursday (move-out day and the day after my last final) and worked nonstop (with short food breaks) til midnight. The next day, Friday, we worked a nearly inhumane 15.5 hours from 9am nonstop til 12:30am Saturday Morning. I guess it wouldn't have been that bad if I had more than a one hour turnaround period from moving my shit out from my dorm and taking finals the previous day, both of which i was up bright n' early to get done. The bottom line is, during that work late Friday night, we were all roasted, done. But we couldn't complain, we all had to work super hard and efficient and get the job done, because if we didn't, we'd just have to work longer and prevent our already exhausted bodies from getting more sleep. It was literally the hardest that I've had to work this semester (including academics during finals week), and instead of feeling accomplished after completed it, we were feeling more relieved that we got to finally go to bed.
As we were working, Emory also assigned a bunch of the custodians from other buildings on staff to help clean the dorms being flipped into hotels. One of the custodians was Patrick, who happened to be the guy who cleaned my residence hall throughout this past year. Patrick and I had been friendly with one another as the year progressed, routinely greeting each other in the hallways and conversing in small talk. It wasn't until this past week, during finals, when we finally got to knowing each other on a first name basis.
So anyways, I was talking to Patrick as we crossed paths in the freshman dorm/hotel this (Sat) morning. I talked to him about how much I'd been working, referring to the 15.5 hr shift I worked resulting in me going to bed at 1:30ish and having to wakeup at 7:15 this morning, and my general state of exhaustion.I tried to imply to Patrick that this working gig was way harder/exhausting than school for me, finals included, but wasn't sure if I actually got those words out to him.
Patrick's response to my comments is what got to me. In his friendly manner, he also talked about his long work hours (he was called to work overtime till 11 Friday night on the the hotel/dorm as well, he usually gets off at 3pm), and similar to me, he talked about how he couldn't get to bed until 1:30am last night (to watch the end of the grizzlies/clippers game, for that matter). He also had to wake up early for extra hours this morning...at 4:30am. 3 hours of sleep. Then back to work.
And just like that, I realized I had momentarily become everything that I spend so much time preaching against. There I was complaining about how hard I'd been working and how tired I was only to be completely one-upped by a guy who does this kind of work for his career. At that split second, I realized I was a huge bitch. There I was, the one who APPLIED and CHOSE to do this bitch-work for commencement housing for a week, making $10 an hour, getting paid meal breaks, provided meals, a furnished room to sleep in on campus, etc, complaining to a guy who does bitch work everyday, brought his own meals, probably doesn't get paid for a meal break, has no furnished room to sleep in on campus, and probably does his job because he has to put food on the table, not cause he wants to make some pocket money for the summer. Yet he had the smile on his face, just doing what he had to do.
Here's what I (re?)learned out of this whole shindig. I have it real good. I lived a privileged life, I study at a top university, I have a caring family with enough money. Yeah, school can really suck sometimes, but in pure honesty, it's not that bad and is often really fun. Who wouldn't want a life revolved around an awesome and beautiful girl, basketball, frisbees, partying, and chilling with a bit of academics sprinkled on top?
School might be THE EASIEST JOB WE'LL EVER HAVE, definitely easier than doing nonstop bitch-work for commencement, and probably easier than any "real" job. My life's always going to be more privileged/easier than the likes of Patrick's, no matter how poorly I did on my last final, no matter how low my GPA is. Not only that, but my high status in society has much less to do with my efforts in getting here than society makes us believe and much more to do with how everything in my life was put in place for me to get to where I am today. Basically what I'm saying is we didn't HAVE to work extremely extremely hard (relative to people like Patrick, who work much harder than us on a daily basis) to get where we are today... it kinda just happened.
I'm not saying we shouldn't work hard or make the best of what we've got. I'm just saying that whatever we do (especially while we're still in college), we should appreciate and enjoy it more and be happier while we're doing it. Yeah some times are gonna suck and be rough, but during those times, it's important to keep things in perspective and look at the big picture, because the truth is, we've all got it real good.
--JTF
My future posts will be less long/intense. I promise. --JTF
Saturday, May 12, 2012
The first post
Summer just started. Have some spare time, so I'm gonna give this whole blog thing a try! Hopefully it's somewhat interesting and entertaining. I'm a newbie at this thing, but i'll get the hang of it. Give me some time.
--Josh
--Josh
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