Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Scene Five: Winter Break

("There's no such thing as small change." "When was you last time you did something for the first time?" "Breathe." The four walls of my childhood bedroom welcome me back with words of comfort and encouragement. Snuggled beneath one of those soft, tan hotel blankets, I read by light of an orange and purple lava lamp.)





In stark contrast to the break-neck pace of Dartmouth life, being home grants me such leisure time that I am able to sit down and read. True, I read the book assigned by my ASB (Nobodies: Modern American Slave Labor and the Dark Side of the New Global Economy by John Bowe), but I can actually read it. In the past months, I've fallen into the norm of speed-reading everything, even personal correspondence, because my time constraints allow me nothing else. Free time, how refreshing.
I've been knitting. No, really! Knitting. I knit a hat. I knit a scarf, too. Last week I learned how to crochet (which I've wanted to do for years). Since, I've completed three scarves. They'll come in handy when my plane lands in a frigid, January Boston- unless I gift them away. I may do that instead.
In three days I will be nineteen. Ancient.
In five days my house will roar with the hordes here to celebrate my birth.
In seventeen days I fly back to snow, schedules, and.. what? Surprises. If I've learned anything from my first term at Dartmouth (beyond the fact that the colon is the large intestine, that political science is more political than it is scientific, and that انا بارد can mean a lot more than "I'm cold"), it's that every day is an adventure of epic proportions. I can't wait to turn the page and see what happens next.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Scene Four: Finals

(My dorm room in Andres in the East Wheelock cluster. I sit atop my bed, papers and notebooks strewn everywhere and a podcast from Professor Witters' Human Biology course paused on my laptop. To my left, a hallmate is drawing on the blank paper that I have tacked to my wall for that purpose. Across from me, another hallmate leans against the door frame.)





As a student who did little studying in high school and none at all in middle school, coming to Dartmouth required me to acquire the skill.. quickly. Because each term is only ten weeks long, professors seldom spare class time for review. The end result is a necessity to study from which no student is exempt.
I learn best by hearing information spoken, so reading through my notes or reviewing slides from lecture often frustrate me with their inefficiency. Though I know this about myself, I did not seek out any study groups this term. Two of my classes, Government 5 with Professor Walker and Biology 2 with Professor Witters, had active study groups from which I could have benefited. Every week I told myself that I was doing alright. Every week I was "too busy" with other commitments. Every week I chose not to go.
Reflecting on this, I see that I could have been doing better. I had plenty of time. I should have gone. With finals approaching, I am stressed.
Beyond catering to my learning strength, group studying could yield other benefits such as insight into course material and an escape from unneeded interruptions. Take my two friends from the image above, for example. Though they had no intention of hindering my studies, their presence distracted me from the already trying task of sifting through the sandstorm of knowledge roaring within my notebooks.
Note to self: of all places to study, one's dorm room is second only to FoCo at noon. From now on, I go elsewhere.