A Temporary Stomping Ground

To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure what idea I had of the University of Michigan before I arrived at the end of August. Of course, I knew there was football. Lots and lots of football. And I knew that it was big. And I knew that there was an art and design school.

And that’s about it.

But, really, I hadn’t formed a solid idea of what the University of Michigan would be like.

However, what I did know is that I was terrified.

And, naturally, what better way to tackle these fears than by wallowing in distress with your best friend and imagining every prickly social and academic situation possible.

Since May 1^st, speculation was a favorite past time for my friend Cal and me. Wherever we went and whatever we did, we wondered together about college and all the potential social encounters we would need to prepare for. Wandering through Ikea’s kitchens and bedrooms, we went over every possible hairy roommate situation (some of which have already been fulfilled… plus some more that our wildest imaginations could not even fabricate). Over oatmeal at Dunn Bros’s coffee we planned out how to eat in the dining hall by yourself without resembling that kid you’d see in high school eating only ice cream sandwiches for lunch huddled behind his trapper keeper and some fan fiction. And, alongside the world’s largest shoe in Red Wing, MN we thought of all the ways to go about the 1-ply toilet paper situation in the community bathrooms (it’s a big deal, okay?).

So, as I was heading to a college town, and Cal to the big city, what we had pieced together was an overall idea of The University: an extension of high school with a bit more social anxiety and uncomfortable interactions with other humans thrown in. And, at the end of August, with a hug and a vaguely devised formula for how to avoid said situations, we split.

The locker Cal and I shared our senior year of high school…perhaps not entirely what my University of Michigan experience looks like.

Now, despite the consummation of many of these anticipated circumstances in the past four weeks (I’ve been caught staring at some vegetables in the community kitchen, running downhill to catch the bus with my portfolio and toolbox flapping against me), what I didn’t expect at Michigan was a warped perception of time. It’s been, what, four weeks? At the same time, it feels like I’ve been here forever. It’s not that I’ve forgotten about my life before Michigan, but it just seems so distant, almost like I dreamt it. Throughout the past thirteen years, I’ve pretty much known what the next school year would hold. But now, for the first time in my life, I don’t know what will happen. And, at the moment, my entire life seems a bit intangible, similar to when Holden Caulfield is walking down Fifth Avenue, and as soon as he steps off the curb he feels like he’s falling, never to reach the other side of the street. That’s what it’s like right now, like I’m falling and can’t grab onto anything yet.

I think a lot of this may be coming from the fact that, finally, I am doing what I want to do. While college is a bit of an extension of high school—lots of obnoxious people, lots of schoolwork, lots of competition—the one aspect that has changed is that I get to learn what I want to learn—something that hasn’t happened since…ever. No more longs nights of studying chemistry and calc! Just more long nights of drawing skulls and designing objects, which, really, came just in time.

I did not expect myself to be building icosahedrons in my 3D design studio my first semester of college.

For so long, Ann Arbor—and just college in general— has been this place of anticipation, somewhere I’ve been waiting to go. But now I’m here, I’ve realized that this home, too, is only temporary. While for now it may become my stomping ground, there are so many other places to touch, see, experience. And Cal and I have got some great big plans for when we reach the real world.

But really, I’ve just arrived. I think I might be wise for my future to focus closer on what is important—like saving the honeybees!

 

One of UMbees' hives I visited last week! 

On Writing

When I write, I need to set aside enough time so I can leave my writing for a few hours, or days. By taking that time off, am really able to notice the weak areas of my paper once I return, whether it is the supporting evidence, word choice, flow of the paragraphs, etc. One of the main things I look for when revising is my argument, and making sure the information and evidence I have included supports that argument and is not unnecessary. I also read from paragraph to paragraph to make sure the progression of my ideas is natural and easy for the reader to follow. At this point I also ask others to help by reading through the essay to make sure my ideas are not just clear to me, but to everyone else too.

I think what is helping me most as I write this paper is constantly referring back to the passage to be sure I stay focused. I can often diverge from my original thoughts as the paper progresses, as one idea leads to another and soon I am talking about an idea that only vaguely references the passage. By continuously referencing the passage and my argument, I can also notice how my argument evolves as I write. I think my main claim about the passage is what changed the most throughout my paper. As I wrote I would think of new ideas, which could quickly have become a garbled mess of thoughts. But, by having others read through the essay and also continuing to refer back to the passage, I was able to reconfigure my argument to address these new ideas.  

Potential stories and passages for analysis

Mrs. Sen’s

I chose Mrs. Sen’s because of the interesting relationship between the woman, Mrs. Sen, and the boy, Eliot.  They both seem very different—a married woman from India and a young boy from the US— yet they both share a similar loneliness, which I thought could lead to some interesting passages for analysis.

Passage 1:

The mention of the word seemed to release something in her. She neatened the border of her sari where it rose diagonally across her chest. She, too, looked around the room, as if she noticed in the lampshades, in the teapot, in the shadows frozen on the carpet, something the rest of them could not. “Everything is there.”

Page 113

This passage seems to epitomize Mrs. Sen’s attitude towards her own country, and through that her attitude towards her new home. She neatens her sari, and becomes more aware when India is mentioned. Throughout the story she continues to mention the differences between India and America—the relationships within a town, mode of transportation, her lifestyle—and in this passage she states that in India, “everything is there.”

Passage 2: 

“Mr. Send says that once I receive my license, everything will improve. What do you think, Eliot? Will things improve?”

“You could go places,” Eliot suggested. “You could go anywhere.”

“Could I drive all the way to Calcutta? How long would that take, Eliot? Ten thousand miles, at fifty miles per hour?”

Page 119

To Mrs. Sen, cars and the ability to drive mean so much more than being able to get from point A to point B. It gives her freedom, something that she has not experienced at all while in her new home. She feels trapped and alone (she asks earlier if she cried out would anyone hear her). She has been told it will improve everything (though she does seem skeptical of that). However, in the end, this driving does not improve everything. In fact, it worsens both her and Eliot’s situation, as it results in Eliot no longer visiting Mrs. Sen and loneliness for both of them. This driving perhaps leaves them both feeling more trapped than before.

 Passage 3: 

“It is very frustrating,” Mrs. Sen apologized, with an emphasis on the second syllable of the word. “To live so close to the ocean and not to have so much fish.” In the summer, she said, she liked to go to a market by the beach. She added that while the fish there tasted nothing like the fish in India, at least it was fresh. Now that it was getting colder, the boats were no longer going out regularly, and sometimes there was no whole fish available for weeks at a time.

Page 123

Access to fish is one of the main problems Mrs. Sen faces throughout the story, and is the ultimate cause for the car crash, and the end of Mrs. Sen’s looking after Eliot. Fish tastes differently, is prepared differently, and is viewed differently in America, similar to how she personally feels about herself. Fish, and food in general, is the one familiar thing left in her life, which is perhaps why the lack of it often brings her to tears. She is careful with the fish, cutting it to get the most use out of it, she spends so much of her time caring for and acquiring the fish. Yet, to everyone else, it is just something that smells bad (as with the situation on the bus with the old woman). It is this constant cultural clash represented by this fish that results in her car crash (as it was the fish that brought her to drive in the first place) and then the consequent lack of freedom now that she will no longer drive.

A Relative Stranger

I chose A Relative Stranger because of Oliver’s internal conflicts he faces throughout the story. He is constantly searching for some idea of identity, whether it is with his biological family, adoptive family, or his own place within the world. I thought Oliver’s relationship with the ocean and his time at sea was also interesting and had the potential to be further analyzed.

Passage 1:

My mind, day and night, was muzzy with bad intentions. I threw a light bulb against a wall and did not sweep up the glass for day. Food burned on the stove and then I ate it. I was committing outrageous offenses against the spirit. Never, though, did I smash one of the model ships. Give me credit for that.

Page 63

This passage shows how lost he is. At this moment, Oliver doesn’t know what is true—his biological family, his adoptive family, his family through marriage—they all seem distant from him. I also think it is strange that he mentions he was committing offenses against the spirit, yet did not harm his ships—are his ships more valuable than himself? Or do they represent something deeper than their material value, something about his connection to the sea. He continues to mention his relation to the world and to the water, as though he has a deeper connection to his environment to even his biological brother. Or, perhaps, by not harming his ships he is protecting his spirit also?

Passage 2:

No, the only thing I missed was the world: the oceans, their huge distances, their creatures, the tides, the burning waterlight I heard you could see at the equator. I kept a globe nearby my boy’s bed. Even though I live here, now, no matter where I ever was, I was always homesick for the rest of the world.

Page 77

In this passage, Oliver seems to know more about the ocean and the creatures within is than his own family. He is homesick for the rest of the world because, perhaps, he really has no home. While at the beginning of the story he describes how his childhood was a happy one, he really has no place to call home besides the rest of the world. And his family does not understand this.