Goals for the Near Future

1. Figuring out my academic plan. I started working towards a Judaic Studies major, but am also very interested in Health Studies (my school offers a major and minor program which combines sociology courses on American healthcare and hard sciences). Since I'm most of the way through the Judaic Studies major, I either want to minor in Health Studies (still giving me space for elective courses) or squeeze in the Health Studies major (which includes a supervised internship).

Since I'm a second-semester sophomore, I have to figure this out fairly soon, which to some degree also means figuring out how I want to relate my studies and extracurricular activities to my post-college life (scary thought!)

2. Figuring out this summer. Even in high school, when we had (what felt like) very long summer reading lists and volunteer or paid jobs, summer was a time to just be. All of a sudden, I'm on a hall where people talked about summer internships at the beginning of fall semester. This summer looks like it will be a mix of summer school and volunteering. So, unpaid work will come my way, just not the kind that many liberal arts school students view as the magical pathway to finding a Meaningful Job with Purpose.

3. Finding time for a painting class!!

Last fall I took a beginning painting class, introducing myself to the special noxious smell of oil paint, the challenge of not getting your every possession paint-stained, the odd sight of a student walking around a classroom shirtless (I guess normal shirt-wearing rules are different during non-class hours?), and the weird feeling of standing in a room with an unclothed person (in this case a model, obviously) when you are fully clothed.

On different type of note, though, after drawing in pencil/pen and with Photoshop for several years, with only occasional dabbling in watercolor and acrylic painting, it felt very empowering to mix colors rather than just click on them, to build an image in soft colors rather than harsh lines. It was easier to make a mistake and just paint over or around it than to erase a pencil line and be haunted by its faint ghost. After all this, it was very sad to not find any art classes that fit into my schedule for this semester, so I'm hoping that something will pop up junior year.

On Reading Les Misérables

Summers ago, probably just before my junior year of high school, my brother gave me the 3-volume set of Les Misérables he received on his graduation from a French-English bilingual school. The same night, I opened the first volume, excited about the possibility of reading a full-length novel in another language. However, 5 years of middle school and high school French, in which we spoke simple textbook European French with American accents, did not prepare me for 19th-century sentences made up of several long clauses and the corresponding vocabulary. 

It was somewhat like going from a wading pool to the deep end of an Olympic pool. Within the first few pages, I could tell there was some sort of genealogical history of a Monsignor, and that there were parallels between the Monsignor's charity and the stories of Jesus reaching out to the lepers, the tax collectors and other social outcasts in the Gospels.

After reaching about page 10, I closed the book, telling myself I'd go back to it later. I opened it from time to time during junior and senior year, but never read more than a few pages. Then, last summer, I finally returned to it, with the intention of brushing up on my reading skills before taking French 104 in the fall. By the end of the summer, I made it about halfway through the first volume with some understanding of what was going on and the major characters.

It could have been great if I had managed to finish that first volume by the end of the year, since the thought of one day finishing the whole novel in French seems like a sweet reward for seven secondary school years and a college semester of studying French. For now, taking it in small steps is just fine.

Kids watch the darndest things

After working retail for six months, I've returned to my preferred job, hospital volunteering. Having spent a summer delivering labwork/paperwork/blood transfusions at one Boston-area hospital and two summers and a school year making care packages and visiting patients at another, I decided it was time to try out a new place. So I applied to the Waltham campus of Boston Children's Hospital, which mostly does outpatient visits (sports medicine, headache therapy, speech therapy, etc.) and is also much smaller than the two previous hospitals where I worked.

For my orientation and training, I had to go to the Boston campus, where I went through the familiar processes of getting an ID photo, another TB test (I just had one in November…), and learning about the importance of washing your hands and knowing your fire escape routes. All while munching on Oreos and drinking Diet Coke (only the healthiest food for a hospital).

Eventually, a Child Life specialist came up to talk about playing with children. Many of the activities she mentioned brought back good childhood memories, like the plastic cars that kids sit inside and move/steer in front by kicking their feet. While discussing good activities for preschoolers, she mentioned a certain PBS children's show that is apparently still a hit.

It wasn't Mister Rogers, who I think would be a good, calming voice for a sick child. It wasn't Lamb Chops or Thomas the Tank Engine, either. Sesame Street was mentioned, but that show has changed a lot since I was a child, for better (that Masterpiece Theater intro was really scary) and for worse (Elmo's World). Instead, the Child Life specialist told us that Barney, the singing purple dinosaur whose theme song gets mocked by kindergartners, is still popular with preschoolers. 

I was shocked, but probably shouldn't be surprised. After all, even if a kid finds a show/movie that their parents can sit through, the parents go crazy after seeing the same thing 999 times. On that note, I apologize to my mom for making her rent The Little Mermaid three times in a row, but I don't regret making my brother listen to Raffi tapes in the car.

Back "Home"

I just returned to school this afternoon, dragging a suitcase that is about the size of my mini-fridge, a soon-to-be overstuffed backpack, and a full cloth shopping bag. After my roommate and I unpacked, we started running errands. I picked up half my textbooks, still waiting for the other half to arrive in the mail.

This semester, thanks to an intro class, a literature class, and a biology class, I spent about twice what I did last year on books. But it's great to know that familiar faces will start arriving, hopefully without too many snow delays, and to see the montage of postcards and photos on my brick wall (a nice change from painted cinderblock). Tonight, when the lights are switched off, I'll also get to see the glow-in-the-dark stars left on the ceiling by a previous resident, wondering how much they were fined for the stars.

For now, though, I have to get dinner.