Just For the Record...

If anyone mentions anything about my hair resembling a bowl, or something similar to that, they will receive a swift punch in the face, followed by a firm kick to the genitals. Thanks.

--Jon, an unhappy Noggins haircut recipient

A Complementary Sample of Inane Winter Break Babbling

So I’m sitting on my bed in the dark, listening to an “inspiration” playlist I made myself (David Byrne & Brian Eno’s “Strange Overtones” was just on, and now it’s Grizzly Bear’s “Fine For Now”). I was playing Minesweeper, and before that Spider Solitaire, and before that Final Fantasy VI (didn’t know what I had to do, confused, then finally realized after getting really bored and didn’t care enough to prepare well enough to go to a dangerous place, so I gave up). I feel like I should write something, even though I have nothing to write about. Earlier I tried making music, but I felt totally uninspired. And I feel like I SHOULD be inspired. I often think, “Ooh, this would make an interesting song subject/title/theme/feeling/whatever,” but I fail at expressing it. I hope that composition classes will help me with these sorts of issues. And actually progressing in theory, ala NOT taking it from Chuck Israels. I think I made almost this exact same blog post awhile back, buuuuut oh well.

I’m excited to get back up to Bellingham. It’s obnoxiously difficult to hang out with people who are like “Oh, yeah, we should hang out…” and then totally bail or don’t call or don’t call back. At least once I get back to Bellingham, Elie will hang out with me even if she has poop-loads of homework to do (although she might do that homework while hanging out, that’s okay). I realized recently that I get very lonely very easily. Like Elie, I don’t care about “fitting in” as much as I care about being true to myself and what I believe to be right for me. Unfortunately, what I believe is often quite contrary to what others believe, and just the way I am generally isn’t as socially compatible with typical college kids. Or typical people. I’m not sure what it is. Other people are opinionated. Other people are goofy. Other people like weird music. I just feel like there’s other people up there in Bellingham that I could easily be great friends with… but I’m not. Why? We just never find each other? I guess so. Hopefully that will eventually change. I can’t complain too much, though. I still have great friends (that I don’t see enough : /) and the best girlfriend I could ask for. Yep, more sappy Elie/Jon love. That’s more than a lot of people have; I would venture to say more than most people have, even if they think they have it.

So some lighter fare: I got my radio show that I submitted! “All Things Epic” will premier Saturday, January 9, 2010 from 10 AM to noon, and will run every Saturday thereafter for the whole quarter at that time. Classical, metal, post-rock, chamber-pop, and other “epic music” is what it will consist of. Suggestions? I could always use some.

Merry Christmas?

Speaking of Christmas; the holiday means very little to me now. It’s especially confusing in a town like Sequim; nationwide, Christmas has essentially become a secular holiday (as it should be; separation of church and state FTW), with completely non-religious people celebrating it and wishing people “Merry Christmas.” But the fact remains that basically all Christians, the majority of America, take Christmas very seriously. In Sequim, a Christian-right bubble of “Fuck you if you’re not Christian!” attitude if there ever was one, whenever I hear “Merry Christmas!” I think, “What if I don’t celebrate your precious holiday?” Obviously they mean well. But in places like this, people do assume that everyone is a God-fearing Christian, like everyone obviously should be. And it’s a dangerous attitude; these are the kinds of mindsets that spark ethnocentrism, which in turn sparks all sorts of problems.

I probably sound like a Grinchy Scroogey cynic; I really WANT to like the holiday season, but it doesn’t help that my parents have all but completely given up on it except for the whole “Well, might as well gather some family members while everyone else is” part. I kinda want to just spend Christmas with someone else; but I don’t really know anyone whose house I might be invited into [editor-in-Jon’s-head note: how the hell do you write that sentence grammatically correctly?!]; Christmas is a family holiday, and my family has become totally indifferent. I haven’t even gotten anybody gifts yet, because I have no goddamn clue what to get anyone. I’m feeling a total lack of Christmas spirit. Or even a spirit of giving. Most people would probably confront this problem rather easily… but it’s totally rattling my brain and driving me crazy. I can only hope that I’ll find divine inspiration somewhere.

Ironically, the song playing now is Wilco’s “Jesus, Etc.” It’s a very pretty song.

--Jon [written 12/23/09, 1:20 AM]

My Pants Fit

Yup. My pants stay on my waist without having to use a belt that's too big. In fact, the buckle now fits into one of the actual holes on the belt, not one I had to make myself because I needed a smaller belt. This is not a good sign. This isn't a blog about a crazy teenage girl complaining about how fat she is, but I am gaining weight and I'm not okay with it.

My weight gain is probably due to my lack of exercise. I do absolutely none of it except for walking to classes and to and from my apartment to campus. And stress. Especially this past quarter, I've done so much sitting and reading and writing and stressing. Plus, I hate exercising. Absolutely hate it. Last year I forced myself to sign up for a jogging class at Western, but once I started running, I had shoulder problems. Yup. Shoulder problems from running. Thank you, messed up back. And speaking of my back, the exercises that I can actually do are severely limited, and the only type of exercise I'll actually do, jogging/running, will make me hurt more. Why do the health gods hate me?

At any rate, shoulder problems or no shoulder problems, I'm going to make myself start running when I get to Western. I'd start now, while I'm in the lovely land of Grays Harbor, but I don't have running shoes or sweat pants. But I'll do it. I'm not just sayin'. The fact that my pants actually fit has scared me into realizing that my health is declining quickly (well, more quickly than I thought) and that I need to do something. Of course, running won't solve all my problems, and might make them worse, but it's something. That way I can say I actually tried.

--Elie

Dear Popular Girls of Middle School,

You all made me feel worthless and unpopular. You made me try to be like you and get into your clique, and I was discouraged each time you pushed me away. You were the cool ones who were going to make it big one day, with your handsome, popular boyfriends, your beautiful skin full of make-up, and your brand-name clothing. You all made me feel so out of the loop that I voluntarily pushed myself as far away from your clique as possible. I tried my best to be a tomboy by not dressing in tight, expensive clothing, by not wearing makeup, by not coloring, straightening, or curling my hair, by not taking dance classes, and by not having all the boyfriends I possibly could.

Well, the years have passed, and I went my own way. While you guys were more involved with cheerleading, boys, and your appearance, I was concentrating on good grades. Popularity was not a concern of mine, although I often wished I had more friends. But I never wanted to be like you. By the time high school rolled around, I knew I would never be that shallow.

Over five years has passed since middle school, and I'm slowly figuring out what you're all doing. While I'm fulfilling my dream of becoming teacher, what are you guys doing? Are you all living in mansions with gorgeous husbands and expensive dogs? Or are you working hard in med school?

Not even close. You all are stuck in the lousy place we grew up, going to community college every once in a while, or going to beauty school to support your children. What good will beauty school get you? What good can you do in the world? Sure, you can make rich, white women feel richer and more beautiful, but what good does that to do anybody else? And you've probably figured out that the beautiful boy you've been dating is actually a loser and cannot support you and your family or family-to-be.

But wait! For once, I'm the one with the handsome boyfriend. And he's actually smart. And guess what? We're going to do something with our lives. And I don't mean having children as soon as possible or styling people's hair. We're going to help people who need it, and we're going to reach people at deeper levels than their skin or hair.

So, you popular girls of middle school, thank you for being so horrible and shallow. Otherwise, I may have been accepted into your clique and ruined my life. I may have suffered in middle school, but, thanks to you, I know I came out on top.

Edit: I discussed this topic with my mom, the idea of very few people from McCleary leaving the area, let alone going to a four-year college where they have to move away from home for a few years. Her hypothesis (with which I agree) is that people from McCleary are used to being a big fish in a little pond. People in McCleary are usually born and raised in the area where they have lots of friends and relatives. By going to a university or just moving out of the area, they're suddenly nobody. I understand that being a little fish in a big pond is scary; I've been there. But the people from McCleary don't have the nerve to be that little fish. They're too scared to move outside of their comfort zone and become nobody and have to actually make a name for themselves.

From the beginning, I was different because I moved to McCleary from Tacoma. I knew nobody and had no relatives within 100 miles. Because I wasn't born with my reputation and family tree stapled to my forehead, I was not accepted in McCleary.

But I've taken risks, beginning with going to high school in Olympia. I was successful in that endeavour, which helped give me courage to move away from my home and again be a little fish in a big pond. I may not be known by everybody at Western, but I like to think that I'm seen as a big fish in the activities I pursue, such as the clubs and bands I'm in. I've gone out in the world and done something, and I'll continue doing this until I'm a successful teacher - and a successful person. Take THAT, popular girls from middle school.

Most sincerely,
Elie

With a Little Help From My Friends

So here I am, finally willing myself to write a blog only to find that Jon has beaten me to it! And there's no way I can top his blog. God dammit!

That aside, winter break is finally here. Okay, fine. Call it Christmas break. That's what it is: a break for Christmas. Schools have to call it winter break to avoid excluding those non-Christmas-celebrating people. But still, the break is for Christmas. It's not Hanukkah break. It's not Ramadan break. It's a break for Christians. At any rate, I'm finally on a break. As I sit at home trying to enjoy a book or knitting something I'll never finish, let alone wear, sometimes I wonder what else to do. Nothing, I think, and I continue knitting or reading. It usually doesn't occur to me to be with other people. Then I realize that most people are with friends and use this break from school to hang out with others.

And then there's me, sitting at home with my books, glasses, and fuzzy socks. I'm content at home, although I may be a little bored from time to time. But sometimes I wonder why I'm so different and not with friends. Maybe it's growing up in McCleary that has moved me away from being social. Maybe it's my dislike of socializing. Maybe both. Maybe that's why I really don't have many friends. I made friends in elementary school and a few in middle school and then lost them all when I went to high school. And I made friends in high school and lost most of them when I went to college. And I'm making friends now, but nobody who I hang out with or can really talk to. I'm sure I'm not the only one who can be considered a loner, but why me? What makes me so different? In Bellingham, there's plenty of people to hang out with and public transportation to get me around. Yet I hang out alone in the library, a practice room, or my apartment, usually alone. And I'm content. I don't think, "dang, I sure wish I had a friend." I only wish I was with Jon, 'cause I always wish I'm with him when I'm not. But being with other friends rarely crosses my mind, and that's normal to me. But then I realize that my normal isn't normal to everybody else's normal. But I don't want to be normal like everybody else.

Yet, as I look at all the pictures my friends post on facebook of their high school and college adventures, I feel like I'm missing something. Nobody's around to take pictures of me (don't you even think about it, Jon), and my only social activities include going to club meetings. And I put myself in those clubs; it's not like I was invited. And it's times like these that I feel invisible and thank Allah for the one person who I feel can see me: Jon. I feel as though I gush about him a lot, and I probably do. And that's fine with me. :)

On rare occasions when I think about my friend predicament, I become afraid that if I mean little to my peers then I'll mean nothing to my future students. What exactly is it about me that turns people away from me? How can I make myself appealing to my future students who actually matter? Maybe I'll mean something them because they'll mean something to me. Part of my problem in the first place is that I've been slapped in the face by so many people with whom I've wanted to be friends that I really don't care if I'm friends with them or if we were once friends and then became distant. I just don't care. Sometimes I stop and think, "well that's a shame," but I move on. I've learned to do that: forget. I like to picture myself as standing transparent as people I once loved walk through me. Neither of us look back at the other.

Maybe now I sound like I'm crying to this blog and those few people who read it. I don't want it to be like that. It's not a cry for help. I'm just spilling my thoughts on the Internet for others to read. I'm that nice. :D

--Elie

As a Matter of Fact, MY God's Last Name IS Dammit

I've heard a number of people say "God's last name isn't 'Dammit'!" after someone says an obligatory "goddammit." Okay, so maybe YOUR god's last name isn't 'Dammit.' But what most people don't know is, many citizens of the world worship a different and less well-known deity that goes by the name of God Dammit. He's a cool dude usually; he likes to induce painful laughter and joy by putting stupid words in someone else's, but he can be pretty apathetic to tragedies in the world, and likes to inflict all kinds of pain (hence people yelling "GOD DAMMIT"). I think he smokes pot or something. I talk to him every day. I also see him all the time. You can't see him because he doesn't think you're cool enough. He has a pretty big family, all of which are near-omnipotent. Mother Fucker, Sonuva Bitch, Jesus Christ (different one than you know; this guy's actually a pretty big bastard), and Shitonmy Balls just to name a few.

So next time someone says "God Dammit," maybe you should be less judgmental and stop disrespecting and blasphemizing my religion!

--Jon

A Little Worse Than Mediocre

On Friday I was in an elementary school classroom for 3 hours, meaning I've spent at least 6 total hours in that class this quarter. I love those kids, but I had a really hard time connecting to them. And now I'm bummed. :(

Part of the problem was that the class was in absolute chaos for most of the day. The teacher realizes that the class has a variety of students at different reading and math levels, so she divides the class into sections. Thus, a third of the class is working on one thing while the other two thirds are doing something completely different. Then, one part of the class will finish and run around while others are still working. Pretty soon, one group is running around killing time, another is working on spelling, and another group is taking a math test. Let me tell you, those kids do not want to do much of anything quietly. Furthermore, as soon as I figure out how to help a group of kids with a reading assignment, another reading group needs help, but their assignment is totally different, so I have to figure out the answer to a puzzle about a story I never read. Most of the time I feel pretty useless.

When I can't help them with their classwork, I walk around and try to chat with the kids about various things, but they don't seem like they want to talk to me; they want to do their own things with their own friends. How the heck do I reach these kids?

I left the school feeling pretty lousy about how I didn't reach most of them. Then I started thinking about what I would do with them if I was their teacher. I wouldn't allow for such chaos, for one thing. Because I'm the bad guy trying to get the kids to do their work rather than draw pictures and throw markers at each other, they would rather me not be there. Basically, the kids just want to play. And I understand that. School's boring. When I'm a teacher, I'll try to make the kids want to do the work. Easier said than done, though. It just seems like there needs to be more appeal in doing the work than in goofing off whenever possible.

Maybe I'm portraying this classroom incorrectly. These kids are very smart, and many of the students were trying very hard. But because of the chaos and confusion, few students were focused on finishing their work. After 15 minutes of struggling, they were ready to be done.

Okay, so how am I going to reach these kids next week? I definitely won't try to prevent them from being hyper elementary school kids. Last time I tried that, some kids got into a shoving match which I couldn't break up because I couldn't touch them. It was the teacher who yelled at them to get them to stop; that's her job, not mine. When I'm a teacher, I'll be the one in charge of keeping order in the classroom. But now, I'll be there to manage the kids that need help with the school work. Plus, the kids that were goofing off were the ones that had a pretty good grasp on the work they were doing.

I've been thinking about the management and organization of this classroom. There will always be several different groups of kids at varying levels in any classroom. How am I going to challenge the kids that are ahead and help the kids that are behind? Dividing up the work seems like a logical solution, but then the risk is of dividing up the class into "smarter" and "dumber." This is going on in the classroom where I volunteer, and the kids at higher level rub their intelligence in the faces of the kids that are behind. The kids are disrespectful in general. I can talk all I want about how I'll manage kids in my own classroom and how I'll do away with all disrespect and chaos while forming a utopia in the classroom, but I know it probably won't happen. I guess where my skills are lacking is in discipline. Psh, I know I'm lacking in discipline skills. But again, this is not my place to discipline kids.

Okay, my rant is over.

-Elie

Feeling Pretty Mediocre

One of the first things that happened today was a confrontation with my hopefully-future math professor. He basically told me I'll have to fend for myself in order to get into his popular statistics class. I was hoping he could save me a spot, but I guess not. So I thought "Shoot. This day is going to suck since the first thing that happened was me getting bad news."

So then I successfully snuck up on Jon, got a hug, and had a decent clarinet lesson. Then I thought "this day might not be so bad..."

I managed to stay awake in anthropology and not be too spiteful that I got an B+ on a paper I thought I wrote well. It's kind of funny, because I got an A- on my last anthro paper and I was really upset, but with this B+, I know I wrote a good paper. The professor's prompt just sucked. So I may not be able to write what he wants, but I can write well in general, and I guess that makes me feel better.

Next I got my history paper back and got 17.5 out of 20 - a 0.5 point improvement. I was pretty happy but not ecstatic. As I walked to band I thought "This day is probably going to suck as soon as some more bad news pushes me over the edge."

Band was decent, and so was SWEA later that night. And now I'm sitting in my apartment with not a whole lot of homework and not being horribly stressed. It suddenly dawned on me that this day was neither bad nor good. It was just mediocre. Then I realized that this whole quarter has been mediocre. I'm getting mediocre grades, and my stress level is neither minimal nor incredibly high (sometimes). What can I do to feel great and not mediocre? Being happy would be awesome!

What's getting me through school is mentoring and tutoring kids. I look forward to Tuesdays when I can *try to* read to 1st graders. As that excitement wears off, I become excited to see my 5th graders on Friday. I spend a whole 4 hours with kids each week, and I always wish I had more, so I get a little depressed, especially when I just hung out with kids and then must do homework. It's the ultimate let-down. The good news is that I'm trying to set up a mentoring program with the local high school, so hopefully I'll get to spend even MORE time with kids.

When I catch myself wishing I was tutoring, mentoring, or just hanging out with kids, I make myself more happy by knowing that I have a passion for teaching and learning and just being around those kids. I know for sure that I want to teach, and I can't wait to stop taking history, anthropology, math, English, and any other poorly-taught college course so I can have my own classroom.

Against my better judgement, I recently started reading a book I bought over the summer: Teach With Your Heart by Erin Gruwell. It's so amazing and inspiring, and I find myself reading that book when I should be working on a paper or reading for a class. I mentioned this in a previous blog, but I really look up to Erin. She was a "privileged" white, middle-class girl who didn't know how to help her students. She just knew she wanted to make a difference, and she worked hard in order to help her students in any way she could. She's a lot like me. I know that in a few years I'll be teaching at some inner-city school where kids can't relate to me and don't want to learn what I'm trying to teach, but I know that I'll prevail somehow. Reading this book is my escape from the chaos, stress, frustration, and disappointment that is college.

Okay, so maybe you're thinking: "If you hate college and your classes so much, why do you want to be a teacher?" I can't stand my classes because they're poorly taught. The subject material is fascinating, and I know that I could make this material come alive if I was teaching it. Mind you, I'd need the knowledge first. A good teacher or professor makes all the difference, and I'm confident that I can eventually become a teacher who can make that difference. But I'm not being unrealistic. I'm expecting to make loads of mistakes and fail a lot along the way.

This is what's keeping me from being upset with my mediocre life.

-Elie

Hurricane Ridge is For Sale Online

My album, HURRICANE RIDGE, released under the same artist name, is now for sale online at Amazon, iTunes, eMusic, Rhapsody, Napster, and other online music retailers. Please buy it! It's excellent.

http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?id=335901000&s=143441

http://www.amazon.com/Hurricane-Ridge/dp/B002T9H5TO/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=dmusic&qid=1256425346&sr=8-3-catcorr

http://www.rhapsody.com/hurricane-ridge/hurricane-ridge

http://www.emusic.com/album/Hurricane-Ridge-Hurricane-Ridge-MP3-Download/11673220.html

http://home.napster.com/ns/music/artist_search.html?artist_id=12918412

Check other places too! Everywhere I've looked, the album is less than $10!

--Jon

Me and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

a. Around midnight, I sent out a mass S.E.E. email and said "color in" twice in the same sentence. I know that doesn't seem really bad, but I felt really stupid.

b. I set my alarm for PM instead of AM, so I missed my first class (aural skills), which I should have gone to because we had a practice midterm and review.

c. We watched a really badly done video in environmental studies. Later I also found out that I got an 85 on my test, which I thought I had done much better on.

d. We were supposed to hand out apples with information about S.E.E. in red square... but there was a miscommunication and it didn't happen. No one is going to come to our event on Thursday.

e. I am am doing worse in my current math class than I've ever done in math.

f. I didn't get a chance to practice any music.

g. I am not good with elementary school kids, and I'm not very good at helping kids learn to read. Thus, I failed at literacy tutoring with first graders.

h. There's a big ol' moderation shit-storm happening on the forums I help moderate. Not really bad, just a lot going on.

i. I forgot to review a couple of CDs for KUGS. I was supposed to have them back today.

j. Glimmer of hope for open mic... but we had to wait in line to get in because of fire marshal maximum capacity issues, and then...

k. Sound issues when we went on stage. The backing tracks sounded like shit. Dead air before we started playing. Not even nervous giggles. I think I heard a piece of dust hit the floor.

In general I'm just very frustrated with life and I am very stressed out. And I keep forgetting stuff. And for some reason I just can't stay organized. BLEHHHHHHHHHHHHH *vomit*.

--Jon

My Life, in List Form

I am way the heck behind on this blog-writing thing. Now I remember why I was never able to keep a diary for more than a month or so.

So, what's going on with Elie's life? Man, it seems like a lot of really crappy things have happened, actually. Yeah, let's start with the bad.

Bad thing #1: I'm still in symphonic band rather than wind symphony.
Bad thing #2: I dropped out of music theory.
Bad thing #3: My history class is destroying me.
Bad thing #4: I just got an A- on my first anthropology paper. Okay, that doesn't seem so bad. But it is, because I totally missed the point of the question and my thesis was flawed from the beginning. I'm supposed to be good at anthropology because it's my major, and I know I didn't deserve an A-. I didn't answer the question remotely correctly. I should have gotten a B- at best.
Bad thing #5: I'm working so hard, but it's not paying off. Maybe it is a little bit. I mean, I'm not failing, but I spend hours on homework each night and I try to understand everything and I talk to my professors after class and during office hours, but it just doesn't matter. I feel like I was a horrible person in a past life, and now I'm making up for it.
Bad thing #6: I'm so stressed. Therefore, I'm really unhappy.
Bad thing #7: I'm so sick of sitting through lousy college classes. I'm just tired of being in college. I love being in the clubs and with the people, and I especially love volunteering, but the academics are destroying my life.

Good things that have happened to Elie:
Good thing #1: I'm still with Jon and am really thankful for our wonderful relationship.
Good thing #2: I'm on first clarinet in symphonic band and probably should have made it into wind symphony if I had seniority.
Good thing #3: I have a decent shot at graduating in 4 or 5 years rather than 5 or 6 or 7.
Good thing #4: I'll be applying to the college of education a lot earlier than expected.

There. That's my life story. Now it's homework time.

-Elie

Fail

Yup, we've been in school for just a few days and I've already failed - failed at keeping my resolution. And it isn't just a little fail. This is an epic fail. I'm so incredibly stressed about everything, especially music theory which is kicking my ass. I'm constantly doing homework and studying, yet I feel like it's all coming to nothing. And my god, this stress! Like Jon said in the entry before it, there's so much going on, but it seems like whenever I take a stab at getting something accomplished, I take a step backwards. I just want to be happy, and I honestly don't think it's possible. I don't know how to deal with this.

--Elie

*phew* The Week in [Brief] Review

Who ever thought that the first week of school could have lasted what seemed like thousands of years? From the info fair to sunburn to band auditions to getting up early to placement exams to background checks to last-minute-required-book-buyings to email issues to radio shows to a toe injury to keyboard/singing practicing to laundry-doing to apartment-cleaning to multiple other rather stressful situations... Jesus Christ, this has been quite a week. And the craziness isn't all sorted out quite yet. At least not in my mind. But at least I got everything I need for the mentoring "class" in. *le sigh*

This weekend, John von and I are going to do some rehearsing for the open mic we plan on hitting up next week. If you've listened to the songs on our MySpace, you'll recognize what we plan on playing. So be there to listen! It will be great if all goes well.

I'm thinking of just giving away my CDs. Although that would actually cost me money, no one has really displayed any interest in buying it from me. Maybe I'll just nag people some more.

--Jon

An Overview of My Music Stuffs (ALBUM FOR SALE)

So I finished recording my "solo album." It's called Hurricane Ridge, which is the sort of pseudonym I'm using. The title was kind of inspired by Mount Eerie, another Washington one-man "band," and since the original idea of the project was to reflect upon conflicts between nature and civilization, I thought it was appropriate (for those of you not in the know, Hurricane Ridge really pretty spot in the Olympic Mountains above Port Angeles that a lot of tourists go to). However, there isn't so much an overarching theme anymore to all of the songs. I tried to keep it somewhat in the same range of feelings and emotions though, and I think I did an okay job. I'm really happy with the end result, which is about 40 minutes of music, plenty for a short-ish album. Longer than Weezer's "Green Album."

I'm selling copies of my CD for $5. Talk to me if you want one! If you don't live near me, I can send you a copy in the mail for $6. Email me at jonbashmusic@gmail.com. Also, add me on MySpace! www.myspace.com/jonbash.music. I don't know who would read this that doesn't know me but... whatever! Stuff can happen.

In terms of genre... it jumps around a bit, but it's generally somewhere around gloomy, slightly experimental electronica, folk, and indie rock. I've taken to calling most of the music I make "alternative pop," even though that has potential to sound very 90's. Influences... Radiohead, Sufjan Stevens, Animal Collective, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Fleet Foxes, Arcade Fire, Weezer, Cursive, Dismemberment Plan, Mount Eerie/The Microphones... way too many to name.

So I guess I'm going to go over all of the songs. I know this might make me sound pretentious, but this is also for myself; since my memory is shit, I want to be able to go back and read this some day and be like "Oh, I remember the state of mind I was in when I wrote that!" Here goes:

1. "The Northern Sun"

This is probably the first song I fully conceived in my head when I started pursuing this project, although ironically it was the last one I recorded. I was planning on making it much more grandiose, with violins and cellos and clarinets and flutes and timpani and concert percussion and other stuff, but this would have been terribly difficult to do just right. It came out as more of a minimalist acoustic piece with a nice little buildup at the end. This song has only one "virtual instrument," and it would have been non-virtual if I had access to an acoustic bass guitar, but alas, I just wanted to get this done. I wasn't planning on having a "guitar solo," but I didn't want to have a boring plain ol' instrumental interlude. So that's what happened.

One morning, in the middle of January, it was super cold, and super early, and the sun had barely risen, and I was all wrapped up in scarves and coats and such, and could see my breath, and I was all alone at the bus stop, just thinking, and this song and these lyrics just started playing in my head. I wrote them down later when I get to geology, and started writing the rest of the song. The lyrics have been in my geology notebook unused, until the other day when I finally recorded the song.

The influence of Godspeed You! Black Emperor shows most in this song.

2. "Opening Day at the Mall"

A short instrumental that I made mostly when I first got the program I use to record my music. I was planning on turning it into a full song, but just never got around to it, and couldn't think of anything classy to do with it. I think it's best as it is. All the guitar parts were recorded this summer.

3. "Cabin Fever"

During the winter, when this project was in its infancy, I came up with the idea for this song; drum machines and layered, moaning, choir-like vocals, with some regular (well, distorted) singing over the top of it all. The working title for the idea was "I'm Only Dying," based on some conversation between my fellow Squirrel Bagger and me. During spring break '09, after Elie left, my parents had gone on vacation to California, many of my friends were busy, and I had very little to do except make music. But even that was tough for me. I was just totally dead, suddenly. I tried starting to write another song (what would later become "Post-Apocalyptic Blues"), but it just wasn't coming out right. I had a classic case of writer's block. I tried using an idea of Thom Yorke's; scribbling little bits and pieces of lyrics on small pieces of paper, one-liners, something that sounded good but had nothing to go with it. The lyrics to this song are what eventually came out when I put a lot of those little lines together and changed them up a bit to fit the music. As I've stated on this blog before, the chord progression was lifted from a somber, sad, and mysterious song from one of my favorite video games ever, Final Fantasy VII. I tried to capture a sense of panic and paranoia and insanity that one might get from REALLY intense "cabin fever." I hope I did alright? I'm really proud of the drumbeat in this song; more so than any other song here.

4. "What a Hero"

The music to this was a result of some nice, random inspiration while I was working on another song. I had a lot of fun with this. This was the second time after my previous shortcomings that I tried writing lyrics that didn't necessarily make much sense, but sounded good enough. I'm not sure what I was trying to convey; it's a mix between actually telling someone (not anyone in particular) to stop sitting around and start doing stuff, and sort of poking fun at people that say that kind of stuff. I think moreso the latter. Being a percussion nerd, I really enjoyed the time signature changes. The percussion that begins and ends the song was all software instruments. I wanted to make it sound like some field recording of a drum circle, though; my original plan was to rerecord it, but I would have needed way more drums than I had, it would have taken a lot of time, and since my computer isn't top-of-the-line, the poor guy wouldn't have been able to handle that many tracks. I totally ripped off The Beatles with the backwards guitar solo in the middle. It was fun, though, and sounds neat, which are the most important parts. I always wanted to use a distorted acoustic guitar in a song, and this, I think, was my first opportunity to do that. I will definitely do it again sometime.

5. "Carbophobe"

I found a program online for making and manipulating (in real-time) stupid, awesome, synthesized techno loops. I played with it, and made the music to this. Afterwards, I decided to put some singing to it, but not even in-time with the beat. I programmed the vocals to come in right when the techno loop starts defragmenting itself. I basically wanted it to sound like music for a stupid workout machine commercial from the 90s, or an energy drink, or protein powder; something stupid like that. It, again, doesn't have too much meaning. Take it for what it is.

6. "Henchmen"

The lyrics to this song used to be god-awful (discussed in the aforementioned blog-post). Kind of written to be closure for an old friend that hates me now. I realized that was really pretentious and I didn't quiiiite get the message right, so I decided to change the lyrics around and give them pretty much no meaning whatsoever. I came up with the guitar riff while messing around with a setting with my software that gave it a ridiculous amount of distortion. After contemplating making it a sort of post-metal song, I decided to take a more glitchy electronic direction with it. I like how it came out. The verses take a lot of breath to sing, if you can't tell. I don't know how dudes like Tomas Kalnoky [of Streetlight Manifesto] do it. The song originally faded out during the guitar solo, but it felt half-finished, so I added another section and another chorus. I guess the lyrics do have some sort of vague storyline... about two henchmen arguing or something...? I don't know. A friend told me that this song sounds kinda like Xiu Xiu, who I hadn't heard until he said that. I do agree with him, though, strangely.

7. "Haven"

Another instrumental I wrote testing out my recording software. I also thought of turning this into a full song, but I kinda think it would have tainted it. I think this song was just 3 tracks: a stock drum-loop from the software, super-echoey guitar, and the main "rhythm" guitar. Fun fact: those two guitars are actually acoustic guitars plugged straight into the computer and processed to hell. The distant guitar sounds that open this song are the same ones that open "The Northern Sun" and the album. I thought it added "cohesion" to the album. :)

8. "Ostrich in a Casket"

So during spring break, after I semi-got over my writer's block, I had one more day to record stuff. I was sick of overthinking the songwriting and recording. I talked to Elie the night before, and somehow the phrase "Ostrich in a Casket" came up. She suggested I write a song about it. So I took that, along with a strange dream I had where Justin Timberlake was the leader of a gang I was in, and we had penguin soldiers (like in Batman Returns), wrote the dumbest lyrics I could possibly think of, thrashed around on my guitar with much, much dissonance (kinda poking fun at the Blood Brothers and Dismemberment Plan), played a "rawkin'" [see: shitty and sloppy :D] guitar solo, distorted one vocal track and double-tracked the other one, singin' falsetto, programmed some ridiculous drums for key sections... okay, you get the idea.
You can listen to examples of my influences for this song here (my favorite super-angry thrashy song of all time) and here (my favorite anti-pretentious-hipster song of all time).

9. "Livin' It Up"

I'm still very proud of the instrumentals in this song. It was originally meant to be a mostly loud and exciting song, but I was a little suppressed recording the vocals in the new apartment. This is why I autotuned some vocals. It turned out to be a kind of neat touch, with robots singing the chorus and the second half of the first verse. Still kinda funky, though. I don't know. I spent a lot of time on the music for this one, and I had the chorus melody in my head for a long time, but the execution wasn't quite what I originally planned. Again, the lyrics make no sense. Vaguely something about seizing the day. I originally planned on making it an anti-alcohol song. But that could never have ever worked out well. I love the 80s-ish drum sound I managed to get. The echoey harmonized guitar that comes in during the "I've had quite enough" line was inspired by a cover of a Final Fantasy X song called "People of the North Pole." I used to reeeally look down upon anyone lifting a single idea from another song, but after listening to too much Daft Punk, Coldplay, and so many other bands that do that, I've lightened up quite a bit; as long as you don't just straight up rip off an entire song or a significant portion, I think it can be put to fantastic use. Anyways, I think this is the closest this album came to sounding like my "other project," The Situation, in which I write with John von Volkli. This song was definitely influenced by my experience making music with him. Most intentionally lame line I've ever written: "We can start anew if only we could only start... livin' it up."

10. "Post-Apocalyptic Blues"

I put the long instrumental intro before the actual song starts, because I think people didn't have a long enough attention span to listen through it to get to the exciting part. Which I can understand. This was also done over spring break. All of the music from the opening through the verse had been something I'd been working on for about a year (possibly more?), but never turned into a full song. It was nice to finally get it off of my plate. The lyrics were taken from an idea I had for a totally different song, but I soon realized that, with a change of key, they would fit very well within this song, so I melded the two together. This is the only song where I actually plugged my guitar into an amp and set the mic in front of it; I mainly did this so I could get some nice end-song-guitar-feedback (a little trick I think I first learned from Weezer (used most memorably (for me at least) in this song)). Seeing as this was one of the first songs I recorded by myself, the vocals are a bit meh at points *cough*towardstheend*cough*. But it gives it a feeling of really being post-apocalyptic...? Or something...? I had I Am Legend in mind when I wrote the lyrics, but just about anything similar could work. I think the guitar before the track starts is the album's only use of my phase pedal? No wait, I think I used it on the backwards solo on "What a Hero" as well. Damn. Godspeed also influenced the final section of this song, as well as the way this song fades into the next.

11. "The Northern Sun (Reprise)"

Also inserted for record cohesion, and because I wanted "The Northern Sun" to, lyrically, be a kind of focus for the album, even if in a really weird, non-sense-making kind of way. This was recorded when I first conceived of the song so that I wouldn't forget the melody. I recorded it with the mic that comes on the laptop, and it sounded like poop, so I took advantage of that fact, added lots of reverb... there ya go. This "song" is in the same key as the song before it! Except this is minor and the other was major. I like it! Not entirely intentional, but YES, awesome segue!

12. "Prologue/Epilogue"

The song written for my favorite person in the whole wide world and my dear fellow Squirrel Bagger, who arrived in Bellingham today (well, "yesterday" now)! This song had its beginnings possibly 3 years ago. The music during the "All we can do is try" section (and also the "I know we've got all the time" section) is definitely the oldest part; I've been playing that for years, never really able to come up with something good to go with it even though it was so fun and I was so proud of it. Somewhat Fleetwood Mac-inspired? I think so. The next part I wrote was the main riff that plays in the beginning and the end of the song. This was written some time during my senior year in high school, and again, although I loved it, I didn't know what to do with it. Time passed. When college began, I tried using that acoustic riff I wrote my senior year, and added another section, the whole "I never said, I never will" part (don't you love how I label parts of my songs...). I also wrote some lyrics for the song. It was an incomplete mess, as evidenced when I tried performing it at open mic the night after I finished it. Elie and my relationship was just blossoming at the time, so I scavenged the lyrics from this unfinished boggle of a song, added more, added those old sections from so long ago that I had still never used, added even more, and came up with this: "Prologue/Epilogue." The beginning of one thing, the end of another. One problem: performance anxiety. I didn't really have the guts to play her the song. I gave her the lyrics, but kept the song inside for awhile. I wanted to be able to play it well. After recording most of this album, I decided I was experienced enough to try to pull it off. I originally wanted to have all sorts of extravagent acoustic instrumentation, but Elie agrees that it sounds better simpler. I managed to use my mandolin on this song alone! Also, the drumbeat at the beginning was inspired by something similar Christian played when I showed the acoustic "riff" to him and John during a practice once (at the time, we couldn't figure out anything to do with it; looking back, I'm very glad nothing became of it at the time). This and "The Northern Sun" are the two songs I'm most proud of here.

There may or may not be a secret song on the album. It may or may not melt your face and make your ears bleed.

~ * ~

Anyways, *phew*, that's it. I think. I probably forgot stuff. Whoooo cares. Buy my album, please!

--Jon

L'Shana Tova

Happy (Jewish) new year! And now for a Passover pun: why is this new year different from all other new years? Well, this year, I actually want to make a resolution; I want to make myself and my life better than it ever has. My resolution is to stress and worry less and to just try to be happy.

It's always smart to make some steps of how you're going to accomplish your goal, and I guess I don't really have a list. Thus far, it's helped to tell myself that whatever I'm worrying about, it's not a huge deal. For example, I started to stress about my audition, and then I told myself that it really doesn't impact my life a huge deal if I don't get into wind symphony. I'm concentrating on becoming a teacher, not a professional clarinetist. Whatever happens, I'll deal.

This new year is also different from all other new years because I'm starting off this year with going to Bellingham/my new apartment on the first full day of Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish new year). When spring quarter ended last school year, I was involved in a lot of campus activities, but this year I want to be more involved, and, most importantly, I want to help people - specifically children. I've decided that one day I'll change the world by first helping the education system and the children within, and I'm going to start helping by tutoring and mentoring while learning all I can about educational inequality and educating others about it. In essence, I've found what I love (teaching and learning about teaching) and I plan to do all I possibly can in that field - starting on Sunday with a club meeting.

I start my life anew this year, and it shall be excellent.

-Elie

Every Romantic Comedy Ever

Part 1: Guy and girl are impressed with each other's good looks, but once they talk they realize that at least one of them can't stand the other.

Part 2: Guy and girl are forced into each other's company and realize they like each other

Part 3: Guy and girl are in love!

Part 4: Guy does something stupid and girl gets pissed.

Part 5: Guy concocts grand and over-the-top scheme to win back girl

Part 6: Guy and girl live happily ever after!

~ * ~

There are even some non-romantic comedies that have a romantic sub-plot that follows this arc pretty much by the book. And who started it?

JANE. AUSTEN. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. The precursor to all chick flicks.

--Jon

RPGs Need a New Name

Video games labeled as "role-playing games" aren't usually "role-playing games" in the sense that lots of people tend to think. It's not just pretending you're someone you're not and living a second life. Hell, the games Second Life or The Sims are a lot closer to "role-playing games" than, say, Final Fantasy or Chrono Trigger. The difference is the latter games have their roots in old pencil-and-paper "role-playing games" like Dungeons and Dragons. In these games, you would construct a character that you would play as, "playing" their "role" at all times in the game. This character would grow and gain skills, maybe even a personality, making them more real, and since this character was the player's creation, they would grow very attached to them. This character is essentially an extension of the self. The same goes for Second Life and The Sims and similar games, but these games aren't called RPGs.

In contrast, Final Fantasy and similar games have preset characters, preset abilities, a preset storyline, preset everything. For me, playing Final Fantasy games are more like reading an interactive book, where I can change the events in very slight ways, and, although only virtually, experience the events. While I suppose you still are fulfilling the role of these characters, it's no different from any 1st-person shooter, 3rd-person shooter, side-scrolling, or any other sort of game featuring identifiable characters. It's sort of arbitrary, but I was driving back from Kingston today, and I thought about it... so I decided to post this.

--Jon

Amazing Grace

Many weeks ago I read the book Amazing Grace - The Lives of Children and the Conscience of a Nation by Jonathan Kozol. I wrote a bit about this book in a previous blog, so I may be repeating myself. But basically the book was about the people living in the Bronx, and the book changed the way I see poverty.

I bookmarked a few places that I wanted to have other people read, although I strongly recommend this book to everyone. If I had my way about it, everybody in the entire world would read every one of Jonathan Kozol's books. One can only dream... :)

--"'Evil exists? Yes, I said that. People who let other people be destroyed do evil. People who know but do not act do evil too. I don't know if I would call them evil but they're certainly not thinking about heaven."' - the son of a woman dying of AIDS, living on welfare

--"Prisons, schools, and churches, many religious leaders have observed, are probably the three most segregated institutions in our nation, although the schools in New York City are quite frequently more segregated even than the prisons."

--"'Hypersegregation' has been introduced to speak of schools like these, where there are simply no white children, or not more than token numbers; and similar schools are to be found, of course, in almost every city of the nation. 'Two thirds of America's black children' notes the Times, 'know few, if any, white people.' The city rights momentum of the 1960s, says Professor Gary Orfield, one of the authors of the Harvard study, 'is dead in the water and the ship is floating backward.'"

--"'A dream,' he [Gary Orfield, I think] says, "does not die on its own. A dream is vanquished by the choices ordinary people make about real things in their own lives. The choices that some of your friends on the West Side have made may seem benign and innocent and, in the short run, even logical. But the net effects are very much the same as those we saw in Alabama and Virginia when white people left the public schools after the first court ordered. The motive may be different, and I'm sure it often is; the consequence is not.'"

--"I ask him why the children in the Nazi camps came to his mind when we were speaking of this neighborhood. He answers with a caution I have heard from others, when a reference to the Holocaust was made. 'It is not the same,' he says, 'But there are some similarities. There is the feeling of eclipse. There is the likelihood of death for many. There is the sense of people watching from the outside but seeming paralyzed and doing nothing. And there are the miracles.'"

--"I [Mr. Kozol] think that Mrs. Washington [the woman with AIDS, on welfare in the Bronx] is right to view the years before us as foreboding. I have never lived through a time as cold as this in the United States. Many men and women in the Bronx believe that it is going to get worse. I don't know what can change this." - This is the paragraph before the epilogue and Jonathan Kozol admits that he doesn't know what to do. His editors were not happy with him.

I'm fascinated and horrified that schools are such dismal places with such segregation where dreams are destroyed. I think that these sections stood out to me because it was a call to action. I agree that people who know of an injustice but do nothing to stop it are "evil" in a sense. There's no way that I can't not go into the world wanting to make a difference. I don't know how I'll do it, but I'll start by teaching these kinds of kids that need their dreams nurtured.

I guess it's hypocritical that I read these kinds of books and am inspired, and I'm covered in peace signs, yet I have done nothing. At least I'm planning to do something. I'm definitely going to be helping the community more this year at Western by being a part of Compass 2 Campus and being part of Students for Educational Equality and such. What makes me annoyed is that the peace sign has become so popular yet most people who sport the symbol don't understand what it means.

To me, peace means unconditional respect, a desire to understand, and a hope for equality for all people. Peace means dreaming of something bigger than yourself while being part of the movement. I want to be part of the movement. As I look at the words of peace on many of my shirts and the peace signs on my ring, earring, and necklace, I'm reminded that wearing the peace sign is not enough. I must act and make a difference somehow. And I will. It's just a matter of how.

--Elie

P.S. I was listening to "Revolution" by the Beatles as I finished writing this. :D

"Smile Time!" - a math professor at Western

I'm fallin' behind on this whole blogging thing. But let's start with a significant life-changing event I recently had. Hooray!

Well, one night I was particularly frustrated and tired of being unhappy and stressed, and I was frustrated in general with myself for my inability to be happy. Just as I thought my life couldn't get any worse, I got a call from my roommate the next morning saying our apartment was full of mold and water damage, and her parents weren't letting her live there, and when my mom found out about the condition of our apartment (which we hadn't seen), she wouldn't let me live there either.

So I had two problems: finding another apartment 3 weeks before school started and getting out of a lease both my roommate and I had signed. We had also paid the landlady about $700 for the security deposit and for rent. After contemplating my problems and realizing it was mostly my fault for never looking at the apartment and for pushing my roommate to sign the lease, I broke down completely. I was depressed and miserable and sick for 2 and a half days. During that time, and before, Jon was always a great help and I owe him my sanity. He always tried to calm me down, and he never freaked out when I was crying while I tried to talk to him over the phone. I realized then that although I had made one of the biggest mistakes in my life by getting myself and my roommate into this apartment mess, at least I had made the right decision, roughly 11 months ago, to hook up with Jon.

And THEN, that same night that I had a bit of a nervous break-down, I over-heard my parents arguing and discovered a bit of information that I could have done without which further pushed me over the edge.

I eventually went to Bellingham and found another apartment, and it looks like we'll get out of the lease and get most of our money back. As I looked back on the days previous, I realized that I had been so upset and stressed for nothing because everything turned out alright. Then I realized that most of my worrying is for nothing. Ironically, a friend had just pointed that out and I brushed it off.

When the weight of this whole apartment problem was lifted from my shoulders, I realized how relieved and happy I felt, and I decided that it's so much better to be happy and not depressed/stressed all the time. That's not the life I want to lead. As the Jewish new year (Rosh Hashanah) approaches, I'm promising myself that I'm going to change. I'll do my best to not be a stressed, worried, depressed mess all the time. It's just not worth it. I want to live life instead of worrying about it. It's time to be happy.

--Elie

Brand New – DAISY [an album review]

I recently obtained Brand New’s brand new album, entitled Daisy, and boy is it heavy (in many ways). Their fourth full-length outing and the first in almost three years, this is definitely the sound of a band that has doing its thing for over a decade. It opens with an odd 50s-ish sample of religious hymn of some sort, which is shortly interrupted by the short and vengeful “Vices,” definitely the heaviest (aurally, at least) song of the album and definitely the heaviest song Brand New has ever written. They scream. They rail on their respective instruments. It rips open your throat and pours itself in, melting your innards. It ends before it grows old, and travels to the polar opposite of the Brand New sound-catalog, a slower and gloomier song that sounds more like the material of their last album. Although now they're not as afraid to let their love of straightforward rock-and-roll show as much, much of the album shares its general vibe and influence with 2006’s The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me, but this run-around cuts out the filler and the more boring moments, keeping the dark hooks and often-Modest Mouse-ish guitar/vocal work melded with some newfound near-metal-ish tendenacies. The album's first single, “At the Bottom,” fairly well represents the album, with a delicate and moody guitar opening, chanty verse, loud and catchy chorus, and hard-hitting breakdown. I find myself jealous of Jesse Lacey’s emotive voice, which has never sounded more angry and yet more mature. In an interview, he's stated that they wrote the album with a live setting in mind, and this definitely comes through on record. Lyrically, much of the subject matter is similar to the last album, revolving around existentialism, life, death, and God. The band has definitely come a long way from their debut album Your Favorite Weapon, which was pretty much straight-up pop-punk-emo; this is precisely the album that I wanted them to make when I heard their second album, Deja Entendu, which was a step towards their current darker sound. While The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me sounded rather hopeless, this latest outing takes hold of this gloom and doom and forms it into wonderful, melancholy bliss.

FINAL SCORE: +3 [on a scale of –5 to +5 (positive numbers = like; negative numbers = dislike)

--Jon

All About Love for a Child...

(Blog title stolen from Jason Mraz)

Contrary to what I was expecting , I fell back into depression during my trip to Lincolnwood, Illinois.

I hadn’t been to Illinois since my grandfather’s funeral in 2007, and I hadn’t seen my grandmother since my brother’s bar mitzvah that summer. Since then, my grandmother sold her beautiful house that she raised three daughters in, including my mother. An apartment in a Jewish retirement community replaced that beautiful house in Evanston. That fact alone was saddening. The apartment felt and smelled like the house, but it wasn’t. I desperately miss that silly house. Never have I been so attached to a building. Being in that apartment was like being home but knowing it really wasn’t; it was a mirage.

Since I hadn’t seen my grandmother in two years, seeing her getting older was depressing in itself. I fought back silent tears for the first day that I arrived at her apartment. She’s unable to do every-day things that most people take for granted. She struggles to walk around and stand up, and she gets confused and disoriented easily. She even tried to knit with one needle and couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t working until I told her she had forgotten the second needle. We both laughed about it, and she’s been a great sport, but I think that her struggle with old age is taking a toll on her, as it is with me. Just watching her struggle is difficult.

I’ve never had to see this before, which is probably why it’s so difficult now. My paternal grandfather died when I was young and I never knew him much. I only have one memory of him and it’s just a fleeting glimpse of his figure standing in his living room saying “Hi, Timmy!” when my dad walked in the door. My paternal grandmother died when I was a senior in high school but no tears were shed because she is the exception to my claim that all people are truly good. My half-grandfather, my mom’s stepdad, was unable to get around by himself for almost as long as I knew him. I have very vague memories of him coming home from work in a suit and tie, but soon after, he had surgery on his knees and wasn’t able to walk well since. Old age had already taken a toll on him, and I simply grew up knowing that my grandfather was old and unable to do basic things like everybody else. But now I’m seeing this once fully-functioning person, my grandmother, deteriorate before my eyes. As harsh as it seems, I couldn't wait to get away from Lincolnwood and Illinois because it’s so difficult and frustrating to watch this, not only because I love my grandma but because I know this will happen to me. I, too, will grow old and become unable to walk and think. It’s even scarier because I have a hard time walking and sitting because of my bad back, and I’m not even 20.

A less drastic contributor to my depression has been watching my family moving further and further apart. My mom’s two older sisters are being less than kind to my mom, and I’m quickly growing apart from my older cousin with whom I used to be fairly close. We used to be friends, and I looked up to her. Now, we talk to each other because it’s the right thing to do and because we’re related, not because we have things to say to one another. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a supportive family with aunts and cousins and uncles and the like. My only uncles I know fairly well haven’t spoken to me in nearly a decade. One of them hasn’t spoken a word to me since I was five or six. I guess I grew up not expecting to have a supportive extended family, and that’s just what I got. I never really understood how friends talk about spending time with their cousins or visiting their aunt and uncle, or visiting their grandparents that live just down the road. It doesn’t necessarily upset me that I’m lacking this sort of family, but it’s difficult to see that small extended family that consists of my mom, her sisters, and my grandmother and half grandfather deteriorate. When my grandma passes away, there will be absolutely no reason for my mom or myself to correspond with any part of my family. Once the will is dealt with, communication will essentially cease just like what happened to my dad’s family. Déjà vu?

The main contributor to my depression and what pushed me over the edge in the end was stress and anxiety brought on by school, my future teaching career, and all the stress and anxiety I know I’ll face in the process of getting to where I want to end up. It’s hard to explain. All of a sudden I became sick and tired of being so stressed about every little part of my life. I know it’s a problem and probably some sort of mental illness, but I can’t help it. I want to be happy but I can’t be. I worry about getting my apartment furnishings to Bellingham and I worry about where to park and when. I worry about ordering clarinet reeds and what kind to order, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach every time I think about picking up the clarinet even though I can’t stop playing it. I’m more than anxious to meet and hang out with a boy who has more feelings for me than I have for him (not Jon!), and I worry about how, when, and where I’ll meet up with my roommate to buy stuff for our apartment. I worry about getting lost on my way to my dermatologist appointment and I stress about what I’ll say to him and what he’ll say to me. I’m terrified of being a bad teacher and deciding that I spent 5 or 6 years preparing for a career that isn’t right for me. This isn’t the life I want to live, and sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. What keeps me going is the hope that I can change the lives of children and help them have better lives than what I’m having.

-Elie

I Don't KNOW

When anybody asks what I’ve been doing this summer, I say I’ve been reading. I’ve done little more than work with kids and read books about kids. I feel like I’ve finally found my calling, what I want to do with my life. I’ve decided I want to teach “disadvantaged” kids in segregated schools where good teachers are needed the most.

As I read another book by Jonathan Kozol, Amazing Grace, my heart beat faster than normal because I felt for the people about whom Mr. Kozol wrote. Although this book was written 14 years ago and primarily focused on poverty in America rather than the flawed education system, I wanted, more than ever, to become a teacher of these kids so that I can give them an education and empower them to leave their dangerous neighborhoods and seek a new life for themselves. When I finished the book, I had that great feeling of “I’m going to change the world!”

After allowing for about seven hours of sleep, I started another book. It’s written by a rookie teacher in the Bronx, the setting of Amazing Grace. The Bronx is on the outskirts of New York City and is among the poorest city in the United States and even in the world. Hopefully it’s improved since Jonathan Kozol published his book in 1995. This new book is making me think that I might not be cut out to be a teacher. It takes certain kinds of people to succeed at different professions, and I may not have the “teaching gene” as the author, Dan Brown (NOT the guy who wrote The Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons and whatnot) called it.I began to picture myself as a first-year, young, inexperienced, nervous teacher in front of a group of rowdy minority students who don’t identify well with a white, middle-class woman. Just as Mr. Brown (then twenty-two years old when he first began teaching) struggled to earn respect from his students and also struggled to control them, I see myself having the same problem.

The book I recently finished by Rafe Esquith was about teaching with respect and trust rather than fear, but it appears that the best way to gain respect from these irresponsible and less-than-respectful students is to show them that they can’t act poorly without expecting punishment. Essentially, it appears to be best to scare them so the teacher has a chance to get their attention so that he or she can actually gain their trust. But can you gain their respect after instilling fear into them first?A difference between Dan Brown and myself is that I will spend many years preparing to be a teacher. Mr. Brown was actually a film major at NYU who was drafted by a program intended to bring college students into much-needed schools while giving them a crash-course in teaching. The program was a lot like Teach for America…but not.

Basically, he didn’t have much preparation or guidance, but how much will I be able to learn from college where most of the professors and students are white and middle class? I don’t want to teach middle class white kids. I just don’t want to. I can and I might have to, but that’s not where I’m needed. I guess if feels like I’m setting myself for a fall by wanting to teach the “unteachable” kids – and not the young, innocent ones, either. I’m passionate about these kids who I want to teach, but I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it. I’m investing so much time and energy into learning about teaching that it would be terribly sad if I quit teaching within a few years. I’ve never felt so passionate about anything in my life. I want to be a teacher and sometimes I feel like it’s the one place where I belong, but as I’m thinking more and more about what kind of person I am while I read books about failure and success, I wonder if I’m right. Can I succeed? WILL I succeed?

As I read books about educational inequality, I feel a burning desire to be in those schools that need good teachers. Then, as I read books about being in the classroom and about the wonderful things that teachers do with their children and how they manage it, I become scared that I won’t be able to succeed, and I want to succeed more than anything.

Part of me thinks, “I’ve been reading so much about teaching inner-city kids. I should know what I’m up against and whether or not I can handle it.” But I DON’T know. Argh. Sometimes I feel like I can – I feel like I can be Superwoman. Then when I put down my book and picture myself along with several dozen middle or high school kids, I doubt myself. Okay, so how can I convince myself that I’m fit for this job? Experience. Okay, well, I’ve had experience. Sort of. I enjoyed my time in Elma Middle School, but I wasn’t in charge and I didn’t feel comfortable taking control of discipline issues because I wasn’t the teacher. The same happened at camp. I didn’t feel like I had the authority to sit a kid down and talk to them about their actions. Given the opportunity, I think I could have done more than I wound up doing, but I have a habit of handing over the problems to someone more qualified.

I actually didn’t enjoy Dan Brown’s book much because he basically got scared out of teaching in the inner city. The administration was out to get him, and they refused to let him have his own classroom for his second year so he was pretty much put on probation. He then resigned and picked up a teaching job at a rich private school. He admitted that it was more rewarding teaching in the Bronx than in a rich area with privileged kids, but he still didn’t return there. He might have gone back eventually after finishing the book, though. It scared me because the book didn’t have a happy ending. He didn’t win over the kids in the end. And in the end, it was the administration that did him in, but the kids never gave him much respect.

It’s just so frustrating being so far from the students I’m so interested in, and I can only read books about people doing the job I want to have. Sometimes I wish I went to college in New York or California so could spend some time in inner-city schools so I can gage how badly I’ll fail. Time will tell, I guess. I just hope Time has the answers I want to hear.

-Elie

Somewhat of a Failure

So recently, I attempted to write a song. Nothing really new. But after writing the music, which I was happy with, and it was time to write lyrics, I, as usual, hit a bit of a rut. So I came up with what I could, which in my mind was going to be hard-hitting and poignant and personal lyrics. Turns out they kinda sucked, and I realized this pretty quickly after I finished the song and put it up and tried to give it a title ("The Bewildered Bully"? Really, Jon?). So, after talking with John von about my writer's block, I realized that I need to stop trying so hard. This won't apply just to the lyrics I try to write, but probably also to the music, because it's really hard to write simple lyrics for overly complicated music. Now, I really like the music I've been making, so I'm hoping I can find a way to reconcile and write some decent lyrics to fit the music and vice versa, and come to some kind of compromise, but I'm kinda thinking that collaborating is going to be the way I have to be. That or just straight-up musical composition without lyrics. When I write music, I try to empower myself and make these grand schemes and best myself and everything and everyone. I keep thinking, "I can make this better." And I get so caught up in making everything better, and going over it again and again, I don't take a step back and just make music. I get caught up in "production." In making it more complex and interesting. When it's actually just getting pretentious and boring. I don't know how it's happening, but what I'm TRYING to say is uhhh... I'm trying too hard. And I might be done making "solo music." I don't know. We'll see where my musical adventure with John von take me. But right now, I'm much more satisfied with the music we've been making together than anything I've made by myself.

--Jon

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

A few weeks ago, I had a dream or two about meeting my ex-best friend and us apologizing to each other and becoming friends again after having not spoken for at least 7 years after a mysterious break-up. All of this happened in real life, except for us meeting -- in person. After that dream, I managed to track her down via myspace. I considered writing to her, then I decided not to, then I thought about writing again, and then I finally did. After a few days, she responded. She apologized for breaking off our friendship and explained what was happening in her life at the time we stopped being friends. She also said that she thought about me and our friendship a lot and she had even tried writing letters but she could never say what she wanted to say. I completely understand and I forgive her and, honestly, I feel so much better.

This is a huge step for both of us. I can't quite comprehend that I just got in touch with her after being so hurt. But now we're communicating and making up. It's really a beautiful thing. I'm not expecting or hoping that we'll become "best friends forever" again, but maybe we'll get to a point where we'll stay in contact and essentially become penpals now that she lives so far away.

As if this wasn't enough, I met up with a friend who I used to very good friends with for many years. We hadn't talked for a year and then we went to dinner together for about one and a half hours yesterday. She was recently in a car accident and was drugged with various pain medications so she wasn't herself, but she hasn't been herself since taking drugs in high school. I was a little disappointed because I wanted us to become friends again when we met up yesterday, but I felt very little connection between us. She's moved in one direction and I've moved in another, and I felt no desire to rekindle a relationship.

Life is funny sometimes.

--Elie

Ruach Shoveva!

Camp has ended. And I am sad. Yes, I am indeed sad that camp is over, even though I complained at first. Well, things have changed.

Somehow, that "elitist group" sort of disbanded at the end of the first week, probably because we all got separated during the day and were forced to work with people who we weren't initially friends with.

All counselors had a difficult time controlling the students not because of our lack of ability but because the kids were just crazy this year. Even so, we continue to love them, and I miss those kids dearly. Our difficulty brought the counselors closer together, and I wouldn't have enjoyed camp much if it weren't for them. I became incredibly close with some of them, and I even made friends with a girl I with whom I wasn't getting along.

My experiences at camp flashed before my eyes at the Shabbat service where the campers and counselors performed for the families and congregation. As we all stood on stage and sang various camp songs, I laughed with some counselors as we forgot the words and I realized how close I had gotten to them. I've gotten to the point with some counselors that we can talk about every-day life, not just what happens at camp. Even though I knew all of them from previous years, it was like I made a bunch of new friends.

As we performed skits for the parents, I realized how much I'll miss the kids. It's been a struggle and a learning experience, and I'll miss those kids dearly. Before the service started, some kids actually asked to be closed in a closet, so Jesse did it with a smug look on his face. It was our dream to lock those kids in a closet! Not really. But it was pretty funny.

When (almost) all was said and done, the oldest counselor, my friend Sam, gave a short speech about the camp director who moved to Philadelphia, returned to camp a few weeks ago, and will not be returning to camp in the years to come. At that time, all the counselors were standing in front of the parents because we had just been thanked and applauded for our efforts. Sam began her speech to thank Ariel and she began to cry. It was difficult to witness because Sam is a role model to me and she's such a strong woman. As she broke down, Jesse tried to comfort her and the rest of us cried. We all love the camp director and we'll miss her. I'm afraid of what will happen to camp next year, but Sam might take over. Either way, it'll continue but it won't be the same. However, all the counselors have vowed to come back. We all made sure of that. We're a family that only gets together for 2 weeks during the summer, but we've gotten really close.

I had a sort of mental crisis throughout camp. The counselor who I grew closest to was Jesse, mostly because he and I were in a lot of the same groups together and wound up just spending a lot of time together. He's just a great, nice person and we get along well. I felt guilty because I was making such good friends with a boy that wasn't Jon. I like him (Jesse, not Jon) strictly as a friend, but I still felt a little weird. As I thought about it, I realized I feel that way when I hang out with other guy friends I met at Western. It's not a huge deal, but I always felt a little bad for being drawn to Jesse.

I just realized how amazing it is that we're all so close, because there is a huge range of ages in our little family. The youngest is 14 or 15 and the oldest is 21, yet we all treat each other with the same respect. At first, that wasn't the case, of course. The youngest girl is actually amazing with kids and she's quite grown up for her age. I respect her greatly because she's so eccentric and openly lesbian. I keep forgetting that she's 5 years younger than me.

Overall, I can't wait for camp next year, but I'm afraid of what the future holds. Even though the counselors will still be there, we'll have a new director or maybe several directors. Knowing that I'll return next year made me sure that I won't be spending a whole lot of time in Bellingham over the summer. I'll probably move home like I did this year so I can volunteer at the middle school, work at Fair Portia, and work at summer camp.

This was one boring blog. Oops...

--Elie

Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero

I know made a post about religion yesterday, but I thought I would talk a little more on the subject, since in the past couple of days I've been browsing YouTube and its plethora of atheist material. With each video I watch, I am less and less convinced by the idea of a God, especially the Christian God. One thought in particular I've been coming back to again and again in my mind: what kind of all-powerful and perfect being (who I'm assuming has perfect logic) would damn so many of his creations to eternal torture simply for not believing in him, when so few logical signs point to his existence? Sounds like a malevolent sadist to me. No, these are not new ideas, and I didn't begin this blog to try to debunk the existence of God.

There ARE some atheists that irk me a little bit. Some simply say, "God does not exist." "I can prove that God does not exist." Simply put, no, you can't prove that. Just as theists can't prove that God(s) DO(ES) exist, atheists cannot prove that God(s) do(es) NOT exist. There's no way to know either way. But let's think through a few scenarios.

1. An individual believes in God and there is a God. He devotes his life to God. He dies and goes to heaven and lives an eternal afterlife of happiness.
END RESULT: A life devoted to an invisible being and a fulfilled afterlife

2. An individual does not believe in God and there is a God. He tries to live life to the fullest. He dies and goes to Hell for no good reason (unless the God is not the Christian one and isn't a total jerk-face).
END RESULT: A life devoted to whatever he wants and eternal damnation

3. An individual believes in God and there is no God. He devotes his life to God. He dies and becomes dust.
END RESULT: A life devoted to an invisible being and then nothing

4. An individual does not believe in God and there is no God. He tries to live life to the fullest. He dies and becomes dust.
END RESULT: A life devoted to whatever he wants and then nothing

Obviously, this list is a little biased to my own beliefs, and it's definitely oversimplified. But to recap... If one believes in God, either eternal happiness or wasted time (not necesarily, but... mission trips (the non-humanitarian ones) and any time spent worshipping). If one does not believe in God, either eternal damnation from a total asshole of a God who doesn't deserve worshipping, or a life well spent (again, not necesarily, but I'm not totally finished). On second thought, there are so many possibilities out there... perhaps a God would reward atheism because of the signs that point to it? Kind of weird, but again, possible. This whole idea is getting ridiculous so I'm just going to move on from it.

Perhaps a little of my religious history is in order. From late elementary school to early high school, I considered myself a Christian, attending the church of a friend of mine as regularly as I could. I can't remember the first time I was invited, but I remember I believed in some sort of God before I first went to church. I don't think my parents explicitly taught me that God existed, but they definitely alluded to it. That church just told me all the specifics about that God. Throughout the years, I convinced myself that they were right, and they convinced me that they were right... but looking back now, I know there was always this nagging feeling that there was just something inherently wrong with some of the stuff they were saying. In the back of my mind, I thought then what I did now: what if I just hadn't discovered Christianity? I was condemned to Satan's hellfire? Makes no sense. So over the years, especially after I stopped attending church, I began to see that Christianity just couldn't be right due to all of its self-contradictions. It's like saying "I love chocolate" and "I hate chocolate." Only one of those can be true. But Christians twist that to mean "I have a love-hate relationship with chocolate," which almost makes sense... but that's not what they said!

So anyways, more time passed, and although I now had no reason to believe in Christianity, I still admired Jesus and some teachings of the Bible, and still believed in some sort of God. I thought, if there is nothing after life, what's the point? Isn't that just so depressing? I went on convincing myself there HAD to be a God for life to matter. Whenever I thought about the possibility of there being nothing after this life, I wanted to curl up in a ball and lie in bed. Only within the past year have I realized the fallacies of this thought-process.

A few friends of mine have become increasingly open about their own atheism. I think there was one thing I read about atheism that compared this sort of event to a homosexual's coming-out, and although I know they have their major differences, they are, in some ways, quite comparable. Anyways, at first I didn't understand why they would choose to just NOT believe in God. In the past, whenever I saw someone "lose faith" or declare their disbelief, it was often out of sadness. I wasn't about to pull some "God works in mysterious ways" bullshit, but my rationalization was, "Maybe God stopped paying attention, maybe he made the universe and now is just letting it do its own thing, like a scientist with a petri dish."Something like that. The possibilities were endless. The point is, I didn't want to just stop believing in God because something bad happened. But I realized that this isn't what happened. They just had no reason to believe. The evidence is not there. On top of this, life didn't have less meaning without God... it had more meaning.

It took awhile for this thought-process to evolve in my own mind, but now, when I think about life and death... I think about how my time in this world is finite, fragile, and precious. I can interact with my surroundings. I can experience an incredible array of emotions. I can change things. I can affect other people and living things. By the miracles of science, the molecules in my body have coalesced to form me for a brief instant in the history of this universe, after being around for billions, perhaps trillions, probably even more years. I won't be here for much longer. I need to get up out of this seat, I need to see what this life has to offer. I want to see the world. I want to help everyone I can. I want to learn everything there is to know. I want to get out of Sequim! I want to spend as much time with my girlfriend and other friends as possible. I want to make MORE friends. I want to meet everyone, nasty and nice. I want to teach music to kids that have nothing. I want to become a better musician. I want to write beautiful music. I want to live life. I may not follow this motto all the time, but now, when I think about the possibility that there is no God, there is no afterlife... that's when I'm at my happiest.

"Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero." "Seize the day, and place no trust in tomorrow."

--Jon

Rise Up! Rise Up!

I'll be frank: I'm not religious. Religion works for some people, but in most cases I've experienced, I'm not fond of it. This particularly applies to Christianity, but this may be because that's the only religion I've had much of any experience with. However, I do have to say I had no problems when I went with Elie to the Chabad House and experienced brief glimpses of Judaism; I've never felt more comfortable in a religious environment than I did there.

In any case, I was thinking recently about how awesome this song and its lyrics are, so I'm going to share them with you lucky readers. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you "Rise Up! Rise Up!" by Cursive.

~ * ~

Dear preacher, thanks for making time for me today
Hope you don't mind if I hide behind the curtain
It's been fifteen years since my last confession
By your good book's standards, I've sinned like a champion
But that book seems a tad bit out-dated

Please forgive me, for questioning divinity
It's an ugly job, but I think I'm up for it
I'm not saying who's right
I'm just saying there's more than one way
To skin a religion
There's more than one way
To explain our existence

Reverend, sir, I don't want to seem malevolent
My teenage angst is far behind me
But father, certainly it's troubling to see
All these people kneeling, instead of dealing
With the fact that we are all we have

So, rise up! rise up!
There's no one to worship!
But plenty of life to lose!
I'm not saying "Let's burn down the church"
But do you want to hear my confession?
It's my greatest sin...

Okay, here it is:
I wasted half my life on the thought that I'd live forever!
I wasn't raised to seize the day, but to work and worship
'Cause "He that liveth and believeth" supposedly never dies

Rise up! rise up!
Live a full life!
'cause when it's over, it's done
So rise up! Rise up!
Dance and scream and love!

~ * ~

--Jon

We Now Pass the Baton to You

Another blog = Elie finished a new book. And the book I finished was The Freedom Writers Diary - How a Teacher and 150 Teens Used Writing to Change Themselves and the World Around Them.

Reading this book aroused several seemingly-disjointed ideas and questions:

-How likely is it that Erin Gruwell's (the teacher) methods are repeatable? What she did was amazing, especially as a first-year teacher. She stayed with her class (well, several classes for a total of 150 students) for all four years of high school. After her first batch of kids graduated, she stopped teaching at Wilson High School and taught at a university. She continues to be an inspiration to her past students and to future teachers, but the point is that she stopped teaching high school. In the movie based on this book, some faculty members asked Erin if she could repeat what she had done with other kids in years to come. Her answer was, "I don't know." She put an incredible amount of time, energy, and money into those first four years, and it's incredibly daunting to live up to her standards or to even make a fraction of a difference as she made.

-The good news is that there is another book (and a new one coming out in a few weeks) that is all about Erin Gruwell's methods of teaching. What she does now is teach her methods to other teachers so that her accomplishments with the Freedom Writers isn't particularly outstanding in comparison to other classes. Her efforts are currently concentrated to reproducing her method of teaching, and I really want to learn what she has to say. She even has an institute for current teachers, so I know that repeating what she did is possible.

-Erin Gruwell spent a great deal of money to take her kids on field trips to New York and Europe. She also brought people from all over the world to meet her students. She worked a second job with a famous hotel company to support her and her students' endeavours. I've heard that a lot of the "best" teachers must take on second or third jobs in order to raise enough money to take their kids to museums and on field trips outside of their dismal neighborhoods. I don't mind working hard, but it's exhausting just thinking about planning lessons, working a second job, and having a life. I know it's possible and that it's all the more rewarding, but it's still daunting.

-In the movie The Freedom Writers, Erin and her husband got divorced because Erin was spending so much time with her students and working her second job. Plus, her husband seemed to be kind of an unsupportive jerk. I'm not even sure if Erin did divorce her husband because it wasn't mentioned in the book, but it makes me worry. Will Jon and I continue to have a stable relationship when one or both of us will be occupied by teaching? I have no desire to be a stereotypical teacher who spends the minimal amount of time with the students and at school, and I hope my goal of being a super fantabulous teacher won't affect my relationship with Jon. And I know this is far in the future...but it's kind of not. In 4 or 5 ... or 6 years we'll be looking for teaching jobs, and we'll be put to the test.

-There were several paragraphs I highlighted simply because of the inspiration the words provided. It wasn't just that the words were beautiful but that they came from troubled high school students who were transformed by brilliant teaching methods. One of the parts was: "I know that there is not a day that will go by, when I believe something is wrong, I won't do anything about it. It is better to take a chance and make a change, than it is to pass and pity." Especially after reading Jonathan Kozol and Paul Tough's books, I've become even more inspired to do something. Not only do I want to do something, I want students to do something.

-Another such sentence is: "If they were educated, like I am, they'd learn to see past shades and beyond exteriors and see people." I found it heartwarming to know that these kids who were once deemed the failures of the school were the ones admitting that education is so important. These kids took charge of their education, and thus took charge of their entire lives.

-A favorite of mine: "In any and every situation, nonaction is never a sane and rational approach." These are powerful words, considering that me sitting here, not taking action, is actually insane and irrational. And I agree. I'm not exactly sure what I can do at this point in time, but I'm determined to do something.


-A similar statement: "Silence ensures that history repeats itself." It's frustrating to me that so few people know about the inequalities facing kids and schools. I wish there was a way to make everybody aware and caring. While it's difficult for me to impact many kids while I'm juggling college courses and college life in general, the least I can do is make people aware. How I'll do so has yet to be determined. But until nobody is silent about the disadvantages facing so many of America's youth, history will continue on its current, cruel path.

-One student wrote about Ms. Gruwell: "Most teachers aren't like that; they give you your homework and then send you on your way, never getting to know you. Ms. Gruwell is so much different. She gets to know you...she wants to get to know you." This statement made me fairly confident that I can be a successful teacher because, like Erin Gruwell, I care about kids and I want to get to know them. I have no intention of throwing out homework and sending kids on their way. For that one reason, I know I'll be an above average teacher simply because I care.

-The final paragraph of the epilogue reads: "The Freedom Writers see this book as their third leg of the relay race. Anne's story inspired Zlata, who has been hailed as the modern-day Anne Frank. Zlata then reciprocated by passing the baton to the Freedom Writers. We hope this book will inspire you to be the fourth leg of the race by encouraging you to pick up a pen and be a catalyst for change." This paragraph was written by Erin herself, and, after reading it, I felt the need to give her a hug and thank her, because I so badly want to be a catalyst for change. It's difficult for me to sit here in my sheltered home in the middle of nowhere when I can be doing something big and important. Then I remember that I don't have teaching credentials and I have a lot to learn, but I know that by learning about The Freedom Writers and the Harlem Children's Zone and lots of other catalysts for change, I can be educated enough and aware of how to best tackle future challenges I will face as a teacher in the years to come.

-While reading this book, I began to feel lucky and proud that I chose to obtain an English endorsement, because the written (and spoken) word is so powerful. Erin also used English to teacher her students about history, another subject I wish to teach. I'm also glad that my major is based on anthropology, which teaches, above all else, tolerance and understanding. I feel like I have the passion for and knowledge of the humanities to make an impact on kids. I believe that all subjects are equally important, but I feel as though my tools to institute change will come from my love and knowledge of English, anthropology, and history...and my love for students, of course. Maybe now I'll pay more attention in anthropology and history courses...

--Elie