Extra Credit prompt: due Monday, Nov. 14 by 5 p.m. (open to all students); EC comments due Wednesday by 5 p.m.

Two choices this week: EITHER

Write your take on the Thanksgiving prompt from last week, explaining the value of your education to someone who just doesn’t get it;

OR

‘Tis the season . . . for college admissions, and prospective students are flooding the campus. 

Just a couple of years ago you too were prospectives, trekking round the country or the world to scout out colleges. Now you are here, all but settled in a major, contemplating the future. Do things look different on this side of the wall between high school and college?

In his poem “Tintern Abbey,” William Wordsworth has a thought or two on the sometimes dramatic shift from adolescence to adulthood:

  –I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love. . .
                    –That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. . . other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompense.

So, the blog prompt (you were wondering if I’d ever get there?):

How has your perspective changed since you were a prospective student? How has it stayed the same? Write a reflection that captures your shifting perspective on Wooster, college, texts, or even on life in general. Focus your post very specifically—establish one central, defining place, issue, event, text etc.—but your post should also (like a good close reading) have wider resonance, to capture more global shifts in your worldview

Possible topics, if the broadness of the prompt leaves you at a loss:

The College of Wooster from the outside (then) and inside (now)
Election season: perspectives in high school versus college
Fairy tales:  early listening, current reading
An iconic song, then and now
. . .etcetera.

Have fun! No length restrictions this week.

The Love of the World

Distant Aunt:             So, what are you majoring in?
You (cheerfully):        English! [or fill in your own Liberal Arts major here]
Distant Aunt:             English? What are you going to do with that – be a barista??
You:                            . . . .         

“English makes me happy”

I did not come to a Liberal Arts College knowing what I would major in. I came knowing I needed to explore things outside my comfort zone. My first selection of classes was entirely exploratory, with an emphasis on those General Education courses which would not require an early wake-up.

I have wanted to bore my name into the world with writing since the sixth grade. English classes gave me the opportunity to watch how the old literary masters did. My first semester college-level English course was at the 300 level, African American Women’s Literature. It plunged me into the deep end of critical race theory and a lot of postmodern philosophy. I almost drowned in it but learned to balance the overwhelming new information with what I put together from high school. Now Postmodern Philosophy is my absolute favorite.

I love those late nights wandering around campus thinking. English taught me how to free my head in that way. The cool night air, the loneliness, wind on the leaves have a strange way of soothing my strained mind. When an idea for what to write is so close, sometimes freedom is all I need. I ask the same question twenty times over and I hurdle the intellectual blocks. That is a spiritual experience, and even though it sometimes yields concessions, it always helps me write something better.

English also gives me an excuse to brand myself in the job market. In an increasingly competitive field like Data Science, a brand distinguishes individual candidates. This is the crossover between the two fields I want to explore, especially because language is an ever-evolving thing. How close could we get to teaching a computer to read?

 

Fun

Seated in the warm dining room, the fading light filtering through the windows and illuminating the ivy covered walls of the old house, you take a seat at the table. A plate, piled high with roasted ham glazed with honey—personally preferred over the dryer turkey—and a hearty amount of mashed potatoes. A glass filled with sparkling grape juice—alcohol is and has always been a rare sight at parties like these, with even the adults abstaining from alcoholic beverages.

As you all start to eat, light discussions begin. Much of it, your typical small talk. ‘How’s college?’ ‘Good, classes are going well, yes it’s enjoyable. The food’s alright, certainly not as good as this though.’ Typical things. Then of course the question always comes.

‘Speaking of college, you’re about to graduate soon, right? What do you plan on doing with your degree? Why, History and English are very useful degrees, so I’m sure you could find some rewarding job to put them to use.’

And when you answer ‘I’d like to work in the video game industry,’ the inevitable blank stares. Well, of course what they’ll say is ‘Oh, that sounds interesting,’ or ‘I’ve heard video games are popular these days.’ Empty words.

The cousin who Majored in Poli sci works in Washington, the other who Majored in Art partakes in countless activist protests for sweeping political change. Your grandfather who didn’t have the time for college but nonetheless spent countless hours pouring over the Greek Classics. To your family, liberal arts is one of the most valuable things that can be contributed. That can help push society forwards, to better and brighter places. To them, getting a degree in liberal arts just to go into entertainment feels a bit hollow. So of course they suggest that you become a teacher instead. ‘Sure, the pay isn’t great, but it’s a rewarding job! Educating the youth, what could be more important than that?’

What do you say to that then? In the end, you talk about how ‘Video games and multimedia techniques are the future of educating the youth. By using technology and more entertaining methods, we can give children more engaging, hands-on experiences. For instance, a historical video game that allows students to walk through Victorian England.’

And everyone’s eyes light up with understanding, and they applaud your foresight and drive to help improve society. And then the conversation moves on.

Well, what you said wasn’t a lie—it’s something you believe, after all. But that’s not the kind of video game you want to make. Educational? Historically poignant? Improving society? Grand concepts, lofty ideals that are worthwhile striving for. But not the ones you strive for. You just want to make something that you find fun.