What I've Learned

     “What did you learn today?” Unfortunately, I have been asked this question almost everyday of my life since about age seven.  Each afternoon these were the first five words out of my mother’s excited mouth as I jumped in the car and drove away from school.  This was my cue to sigh, sling my heavy backpack in the seat behind me, and obligatorily reply, “nothing.”  This was our ritual.  Everyday she asked the identical question, and everyday I repetitively responded with the identical answer.  That is the funny thing about learning.  Oftentimes valuable learning is something that happens over an extended period of time, not simply in one afternoon of classes.  Although “What did you learn today?” is a valuable question, it has become almost unbearingly watered down.  So when the scope of the question is suddenly changed, forcing me to reflect on an entire semester of learning, I initially felt stumped, before realizing that reflecting on learning is sometimes just as valuable as the learning itself.  Thus, I present to you an essay reflecting my learning throughout this semester.

            Firstly, I learned that only 3.7 percent of criminals actually go to jail.  I learned this stunning fact in my Introduction to Criminal Justice class.  This is due to what is called the “Crime Funnel,” which essentially means that only fifty percent of crimes are reported, and only fourteen percent of reported crimes lead to arrest.  By the time these criminals are prosecuted and convicted, just under four percent actually remain in the criminal justice system long enough to make it to jail.  This fact simply stunned my naïve, sophomoric mind.  In part, this was due to my sheltered upbringing.  Having never been exposed first hand to a life of crime, I simply assumed the majority of criminals were caught and sent to an appropriate place in which to correct their wayward behavior (presumably jail or prison, however I regret to inform you that I still have not learned the difference between the two).  Secondly, my incredulousness was due to my assumption that crime shows accurately depict the goings on of police departments.  Apparently not all crime involves gruesome murders of passion, and not all police officers have access to horrifying databases containing every human’s fingerprint, mug shot, sperm (if applicable) and address.  Lastly, I blame my naïveté on TCU’s inability to use discretion when blasting crime emails to the entire student body.  Before coming to TCU, I was unaware that a brief slap on the thigh was worthy of a criminal investigation from the TCU Police Department, but I was regretfully misinformed.  I now know that when “a high school aged male slaps a student by running up from behind her and slapping her on the thigh and then running off laughing” is a serious matter, and must be reported immediately.  Having known this before last semester, I would have been much less horrified that real criminals are hardly ever reported or sent to jail.  Clearly, my experiences with petty TCU crime alerts involving thigh slaps are nowhere close to actual criminal statistics, making learning about those real criminal statistics that much more interesting and mindset changing.  This was the first of many things I learned this semester.

            Secondly, I have learned that twerking is never socially acceptable, but always socially appreciated.  By this, I simply mean that when one does outrageous acts in public, most people’s initial response is something along the lines of, “How inappropriate!”  Society does not deem these acts socially acceptable.  They are considered wrong, even trashy or unbecoming.  However, people love to gawk; they love to judge; and they love to gossip.  They appreciate someone who willingly becomes the subject of said gawking, judging, and gossiping.  I do not know why I just discovered this principle of human interaction this year, but it has only dawned on me during the recent Miley Cyrus publicity stunts.  As she twerked and thrusted and questionably danced on stage at the Video Music Awards, my roommates and I sat aghast at her performance.  No, we did not condone her behavior.  No, we did not think it appropriate.  No, we did not agree with the image she was projecting, but did that stop us from talking about it for weeks? Did that stop us from watching her infamous music videos on a daily basis in our living room? Did that stop us from googling “How to twerk” videos? The slightly pathetic answer to all of the above questions remains a resounding no.  So after having experienced this Miley Cyrus media explosion, I came to the conclusion that I presented previously, that twerking, or doing anything that walks the line between edgy and insane for that matter, is never socially acceptable, but always socially appreciated.  This is the second thing that I have learned throughout this past semester

            Lastly, I have learned that eating alone does not make you utterly strange.  I admit, there were times Freshmen year when my class schedule just didn’t match up with anyone else’s that I knew, or when my hunger cycles just didn’t correspond with my fifteen new best friends’ hunger cycles.  Not wanting to endure the painful embarrassment of sitting alone at the BLUU, I would opt just not to eat instead.  I would sit in my dorm doing homework, pretending that my stomach wasn’t screaming at me for sustenance.  Frankly, not eating was a terrible choice, especially considering ballet majors are required dance up to eight hours some days.  So there I was, skipping lunch or dinner and exhausting myself in the studio that night with no food in my system to energize me.  This year is different, however.  I’m now confident in my place at TCU, my friends, and my life.  I have realized that I never judge those who sit alone at the BLUU.  Rather, I assume that they are in a hurry, or have work to do, or just happen to have busy friends.  Sitting with that random girl from that random core class while you both shovel mystery meat silently into your mouths is honestly more awkward than just sitting by yourself.  By sophomore year, the pressure is off.  Eat all the mystery meat you want.  Listen to your iPod, or pretend like you’re texting someone extraordinarily important, or sit with your laptop open to facebook instead of those notes that you pretend you’re studying.  Therefore, not just being independent, but being confident in your independence is a critical step in maturing during college years, and in a small way, I think I have begun to make that change this semester.  If being comfortable eating in the BLUU alone is the first step in that process, then bring on the solo dinner dates.  I am ready. 

            Admittedly, criminal justice, twerking, and solo meals do not seem to have much to do with each other.  Frankly, they are sporadic nuggets of information that I concluded were interesting enough to include in this paper.  However, while attempting to summarize my thoughts on this knowledge in a final paragraph, I have found something interesting.  All these things I have learned this semester involve my mind maturing in a new and independent way.  I have critically looked at facts I learned in class, applied them to the world that I know, and adjusted my worldly perspective accordingly if the facts did not fit.  I have critically looked at my society and observed patterns and trends that seem interesting to me.  Lastly, I have critically looked at my own confidence in becoming more independent and have adjusted my behavior to become more like the self-confident woman I wish to be.  These three facts I have learned throughout this semester all center around changing my perspective regarding society or even myself.  I have opened my mind, seen aspects of the world around me, and enjoyed every minute of it.  The strange thing is, if my mother were to have asked me “What have you learned this semester?” recently, I do not think I could have come up with a response that remotely involved the contents of this paper.  However, being forced to write out an answer truly has inspired me to think more critically about what I learn on a daily basis and how that slowly changes my perspective on life.  Who knew this essay would end up with such profound meaning? Not I.

The Two Visitors of Jae Ho

     Today marked my second conversation meeting with the wonderful Jae Ho.  We began by talking about our weeks, how busy and how stressful they were.  He commented on how late students here stay up.  While he usually goes to bed between 11 and midnight, he noticed that many students continue studying until 1 or 2 in the morning.  I told him that most TCU students are involved on campus in various organizations that take up a lot of time when they aren't in class.  This concept was pretty new to him.  In Korea, students don't have as many commitments aside from school and certain duties to their families.  But in America, the concept of being "well-rounded" is drilled into us starting at about age six.  We are constantly on the prowl for resume boosters, extra-curricular activities, leadership positions, and opportunities to join organizations.  This cultural difference is something I had never considered.  It's strange how a country as individualistic as the United States emphasizes the importance of joining other groups so much more than a collectivistic culture such as Korea.

Now on to more exciting things...  My last post centered around the surprises throughout my conversation with Jae Ho.  However, this meeting was all about Jae Ho's visitors. 

Our first visitor was a small group of TCU students that were part of an on-campus spirit organization.  They handed Jae Ho and I both free wristbands (think purple Livestrong bracelets) that said "Be Loud- Be Proud- Be Positive! TCU." That prompted a conversation about how much free TCU apparel and insignia is given out to the student body on a regular basis.  He laughed, saying that nothing is free in Korea.  But I responded that all these t-shirts are only "free" with a small purchase of $36,500 tuition.  

The second visitor to our conversation was none other than the TCU Student Body President, Cody Westphal.  Occasionally friendly and always sarcastic, Cody came over to our table and started cracking fast, witty jokes almost immediately.  Cody was laughing and I was laughing and poor Jae Ho was forcibly smiling, still trying to understand why a random guy interrupted our lovely conversation and on top of that, was speaking so fast that only a highly caffeinated sorority girl could understand him.  Realizing that we were leaving Jae Ho in the dust, I stopped and introduced Cody.  Jae Ho's eyes got very big and he exclaimed that Cody was "The biggest student in the body!!"  I couldn't have thought of a better description myself.  In all honesty though, it was a great opportunity to talk about how every person gets to vote in an election.  Plus, I'm pretty sure that Jae Ho's day was made when he got to be friends with an on-campus celebrity.  

The Four Surprises of Jae Ho

First things first, I have finally discovered how to type with color, fonts, and even paragraph indentions.  I know, exciting stuff y'all.  The twenty first century welcomes me with open arms.

Anyway, today was my first meeting with my English conversation partner, Jae Ho.  We began on a rocky start after he assumed my first name was DeVincenzo, and I assumed he was a girl.  This was the first of four conversational surprises I was to encounter throughout our time spent together.  But I digress.  

After awkwardly correcting both name and gender, we proceeded to divulge the basic information about ourselves: hometowns, majors, etcetera.  I must admit that "The Google" came in handy for much of this conversation.  He showed me pictures of his city (Seoul, South Korea), pictures of his apartment building, and pictures of his two younger sisters.  This is where the first surprise came.  His two younger sisters were 19 and 21 years old.  When I got up the courage to ask how old he was, he said he was about to turn 24.  Thus, the conversational partner I assumed would be a girl my age suddenly became a man half a decade older than me.  This was my second surprise of the hour.

Next, Jae Ho told me about his girlfriend and bluntly asked me about my boyfriend.  A little shocked by his candidness, I laughed, blushed, and replied that I didn't have one.  His face fell as if I had just committed some cultural crime. He looked stunned and confused.  "But you so sesy," he told me. Confused, I asked him to repeat the comment.  This time a little clearer and a lot louder, he repeated, "YOU SO SEXY!!" My mouth dropped. Fingers stopped typing. Pages stopped turning. All necks in Union Grounds began craning to better see the situation at hand.  I did the best I could to awkwardly smile, thank him for the sincere compliment, and direct the conversation to what he had eaten for lunch that day.  This was surprise three.

Lastly, I wanted to talk a little bit about the differences between the United States and Korea.  So naturally, I asked him how he felt coming to this country. He responded bluntly that it was "calm and boring." Frankly, I was taken aback. Every foreigner I had ever talked to had described America as always busy and slightly stressful at best.  Excited, I dug for more information, but as he began talking, I realized that he had taken my question quite literally, and was describing his physical trip from Korea to the United States...  Yes, Jae Ho.  I agree that fourteen hour plane rides can be quite calm and boring.

Thus, my hour-long conversation with my new friend Jae Ho was hilarious, entertaining, and always kept me on my toes.  I cannot wait to meet with him again to continue laughing at how we misinterpret each other's communication. 

Always,
Julia

Humor Promoting Courage

Finally getting into the swing of John Morreall’s Comic Relief, I have actually been able to discover some entertaining nuggets of information within a large heap of redundant words. The first of those nuggets being that humor promotes courage. Upon initially reading this statement on page 199, I begged to differ. There was no way that laughing at a potentially dangerous situation could actually lead to courage, but on second thought, I have found it true. Humor does promote courage by reducing fear. Today is 9/11: A day that Americans will always lace with stories of tragedy, bravery, courage, and freedom. Earlier today, I read a particularly vivid account of a 9/11 survivor who used humor in the crowded stairwell of World Trade Building 1 to calm people’s nerves, giving courage and hope to those around him. Although he admitted that his comedic timing amidst a situation as grave and life-threatening as the terrorist attacks may not have been the most discretionary, he understood that all he could do in that moment was crack a joke and pray that he would live. I fully recommend reading the article to discover that a dash of humor really can be the best medicine. (http://www.esquire.com/features/what-ive-learned/ESQ0102-JAN_WTC_rev) Morreal used the example of the Holocaust to prove that in certain situations, humor could promote courage. His examples of these jokes were both sharp and effective. (See pages 119-124). I think this would be a really great topic of conversation to bring up in class as we discuss chapter three. Are racist jokes okay if they are poking fun at a group who is harming another group? Should people take racist jokes seriously? How far is too far? Where can the line be drawn? Although there may not be a black and white answer for each of these questions, they are each important to consider. In this day and age, I think people tend to take offense very easily. No longer is a simple quip okay in the workplace. That simple quip could get you fired or hated by your coworkers. Now is a time when filters are of paramount importance, and the lines between humor and offense are becoming thicker and thicker.

Moldy Cheese and Modern Art

I was in New York City the summer before my freshman year of high school. After having visited all the famous landmarks, I cultured myself with trips to the Guggenheim, the ballet, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Natural History Museum, and finally, the Museum of Modern Art, where I encountered a piece that brought tears to my eyes. No, not tears of internal transformation or emotional depth, but tears of laughter. The piece by Dieter Roth was called Insel, with a subtitle of “Sausage and Cheese on Canvas.” Not surprisingly, this title is used very literally. The painting involved squishing moldy cheese, milk, and even sausage on a canvas and then watching the organic objects drip, forming abstract shapes and pictures. However, as a fourteen-year-old girl, and even still as a nineteen-year-old, I do not quite grasp the emotional seriousness of allowing moldy dairy products to infect a perfectly good canvas. While staring at the art, I found myself on the floor in a ball of laughter, attempting to contain the disturbing snorts and gasps that refused to subside, echoing through the silent halls of the somber Museum of Modern Art. Admittedly, there is something horribly entertaining about laughing when you are not supposed to. Any situation is ten times as funny when there is a social stigma requiring you specifically not to laugh. It was this natural phenomenon, in addition to the mural of rotting trash on the wall of a prestigious museum, that caused me to loose my cool. All of it. My mother, horrified at the unprofessional and immature noise I was uttering, hurried over to muffle my hysterics, but as the art and its title caught her attention as well, she found herself in the same helpless position that I was. Attempting to conceal her child-like fits of laughter with the knowledge that the close by security guard’s eyes were drilling into our teary contorted faces. I readily admit that I am no connoisseur of what is and what is not art; yet, I find it troubling that something often left decaying in the back of my refrigerator could be hanging in an internationally famous museum, representing all the beauty and thought and idiosyncrasy that accompanies modern art. My mother and I simply could not get over how confusing and slightly repulsive the decaying sausage was. Yes. My mother and I did end up getting asked to leave the exhibit until we could control ourselves and appreciate the masterpieces that were on display. But after that episode, we were hardly in the mood to finish a tour through a somber museum anyway. Thus, we proceeded to the gift shop, and out the door to take on more of the Big Apple in our own hilarious, idiosyncratic way.