Hello. It is 7:42am and I am writing my first 10 page paper. Truthfully it is a five-page paper disguised as a 10-page, double spaced. In fact, the range is 7-10 pages, so it could actually be a 3.5-page paper. The margins are fixed at 1" all around, and the font is standardized at 12 pt Times New Roman. There isn't much flexibility there.
I have broken it down so I know how many pages each section of my question should take. I gave an oral presentation to my friend on what my paper is about. I solicited four pages of quotes from my reading sources. (Essentially, I retyped the book.) I am writing a blog entry on how I am writing my essay. I created a diagram on the organization of my essay.
But I have not written my essay.
It is a topic that I am passionate about: How the rigidity of ethnic nationalism in Korea affects biracial children. However, thinking about 10 pages is daunting. Perhaps I should think about my fellow RA, who is in his last year at the Batten School and has to write a 50 page thesis by Friday. (He hasn't started, because he was taking his CPA exams. Bless him.) Perhaps, I should write my essay in blog entries. You all know that I enjoy pouring my opinion into four-paragraph chunks online. Perhaps I should opt for a youtube presentation of my essay.
If only it wasn't a 10-page paper, with a bibliography and endnotes.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Update
I AM singing at Para Coffee's open mic. It is hosted by People United for Music and Arts (PUMA). Wish me luck!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
jamming at the french house
I visited the French House for the first time. The French House is one of the language houses, where *surprise* you live to be immersed in French. The Maison Française literally looks like a French mansion. I went to visit for the Snobby Cheese party. Yeah, that's right. I went to a Snobby Cheese party at the French House. Judge me. Well, I was actually dressed in Red Keds and my latest guilty shopping pleasure, a soft hoodie with cute button details, which contrasted with the little navy dress and heels that my friend wore. I could have gone all out, but I decided to go for comfort because I had to hike back to my dorm.
Anyways, after the cheese party, I visited another friend who is a phenomenal guitarist. A bunch of us were singing along, and then someone busted out a tambourine (yes, judge me again) and shakers. Another guitarist-friend was called over, and soon we had a huge jamming session going on. I loved it. I missed singing with live music, and the company was fantastic. I hope we can have something like this at my dorm.
To take it further, I think I'm going to sing at the open mic at Para Coffee! Wish me luck!
Anyways, after the cheese party, I visited another friend who is a phenomenal guitarist. A bunch of us were singing along, and then someone busted out a tambourine (yes, judge me again) and shakers. Another guitarist-friend was called over, and soon we had a huge jamming session going on. I loved it. I missed singing with live music, and the company was fantastic. I hope we can have something like this at my dorm.
To take it further, I think I'm going to sing at the open mic at Para Coffee! Wish me luck!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
4th Year Studio Art Major Exhibition
"It's like the equivalent of your thesis," explained D, as she carefully placed sliced strawberries on top of whipped cream and double fudge brownies. I was slicing tomatoes in our friend's kitchen, which another friend placed between two slices of rye bread smothered in red pepper hummus. We were helping out for D's art exhibition yesterday.
Being an art major was something I considered. In fact, art school was a serious consideration for me. RISD, Pratt, FIT, Parsons, Cooper Union... all of those were common buzzwords amongst my friends who were preparing their portfolios. I loved art and I had dedication. Why not?
The why-not came in the form of opportunity cost (see post on April 17th for an explanation about opportunity costs.). I had received a perfect SAT score according to the 1600 scale and was 80 points off from a perfect score on the 2400 scale. The SAT scores of the middle 50% of incoming class of RISD was 1690-2050, and for FIT... you probably didn't even have to take the SATs. If opportunity cost is the cost of not taking the next best choice, for me the opportunity cost of art school was research universities and liberal arts colleges. It was too big of an opportunity cost. In layman's terms, if I went to art school, I would be missing out on too many other opportunities that I could have had at research universities and liberal arts colleges. Essentially, I had to be absolutely sure that art school was right for me, and I wasn't sure.
Now that I am at UVA, an established research university, would it have made sense to major in art? After all my reasoning, the answer is no.
Having said all that, I absolutely envied my friend D as she rushed to prepare her exhibition. Perhaps she should have looked into a career in event planning, because she was making the most of her physical and human capital in getting this event together.
The 4th Year Studio Art major exhibition was fantastic. We explored three floors of art, people, cheese, and drinks in Ruffin Hall, the newly built building for studio art. I fell in love with one of my friend's wood printing pieces (actually the set, but I'm too poor for a set), and so I decided to purchase one. I'll take a picture of it when I make the transaction. (Note to the art connoisseurs out there: never go for the listed pricing. I would start bargaining at half... sometimes less than half. A good example is the one that I will buy: the listing was $220. Due to the fact that we were friends, she said she would sell it to me for less than $100. I know she made the frame, which would normally cost $50, but because she made it it costs about $25.)
I suppose pictures of the art exhibits would convey absolutely more than my words, but sadly I did not think we could take pictures of it and I was too forgetful. I will try my best to describe D's exhibition.
D's exhibition was on the ground floor of Ruffin, the bottom floor was dark with no windows, and spotlights haloed her paintings on silk. She had gone to high school in Japan and learned the Japanese tea ceremony there. The subject of her exhibit were hands, drawn in the brush-style that she had learned in a study abroad program in Hong Kong, pouring tea. The theme was brilliantly conveyed as sequences of these delicate hands pouring tea, outlined in bold black ink. Then in the center, she had at least nine female figures in similar sitting positions. They were clothed in the stiff, ceremonial costume associated with the tea ceremony. At a first glance, it looks like they are all replicas, but after close examination, you realize that they are different moments of the tea ceremony. For example, one drawing showed the woman placing a sweet in her mouth, which D explained to me happens because the tea is so bitter. I really enjoyed her fusion of her passion for tea, the techniques she learned in Hong Kong, and her painting style.
Being an art major was something I considered. In fact, art school was a serious consideration for me. RISD, Pratt, FIT, Parsons, Cooper Union... all of those were common buzzwords amongst my friends who were preparing their portfolios. I loved art and I had dedication. Why not?
The why-not came in the form of opportunity cost (see post on April 17th for an explanation about opportunity costs.). I had received a perfect SAT score according to the 1600 scale and was 80 points off from a perfect score on the 2400 scale. The SAT scores of the middle 50% of incoming class of RISD was 1690-2050, and for FIT... you probably didn't even have to take the SATs. If opportunity cost is the cost of not taking the next best choice, for me the opportunity cost of art school was research universities and liberal arts colleges. It was too big of an opportunity cost. In layman's terms, if I went to art school, I would be missing out on too many other opportunities that I could have had at research universities and liberal arts colleges. Essentially, I had to be absolutely sure that art school was right for me, and I wasn't sure.
Now that I am at UVA, an established research university, would it have made sense to major in art? After all my reasoning, the answer is no.
Having said all that, I absolutely envied my friend D as she rushed to prepare her exhibition. Perhaps she should have looked into a career in event planning, because she was making the most of her physical and human capital in getting this event together.
The 4th Year Studio Art major exhibition was fantastic. We explored three floors of art, people, cheese, and drinks in Ruffin Hall, the newly built building for studio art. I fell in love with one of my friend's wood printing pieces (actually the set, but I'm too poor for a set), and so I decided to purchase one. I'll take a picture of it when I make the transaction. (Note to the art connoisseurs out there: never go for the listed pricing. I would start bargaining at half... sometimes less than half. A good example is the one that I will buy: the listing was $220. Due to the fact that we were friends, she said she would sell it to me for less than $100. I know she made the frame, which would normally cost $50, but because she made it it costs about $25.)
I suppose pictures of the art exhibits would convey absolutely more than my words, but sadly I did not think we could take pictures of it and I was too forgetful. I will try my best to describe D's exhibition.
D's exhibition was on the ground floor of Ruffin, the bottom floor was dark with no windows, and spotlights haloed her paintings on silk. She had gone to high school in Japan and learned the Japanese tea ceremony there. The subject of her exhibit were hands, drawn in the brush-style that she had learned in a study abroad program in Hong Kong, pouring tea. The theme was brilliantly conveyed as sequences of these delicate hands pouring tea, outlined in bold black ink. Then in the center, she had at least nine female figures in similar sitting positions. They were clothed in the stiff, ceremonial costume associated with the tea ceremony. At a first glance, it looks like they are all replicas, but after close examination, you realize that they are different moments of the tea ceremony. For example, one drawing showed the woman placing a sweet in her mouth, which D explained to me happens because the tea is so bitter. I really enjoyed her fusion of her passion for tea, the techniques she learned in Hong Kong, and her painting style.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Third Culture Kids
I attended the first hosted event of TCKs at UVA. Third Culture Kids (TCKs) are defined as:
“a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents’ culture" (Pollock and Van Reken). However that doesn't fully capture their identity because some TCKs have traveled between two or three countries and some TCKs have been to nine countries. Some quotes about what a TCK is that I stole from the section describing the TCK identity:
"A global citizen independent of cultural distinctions yet whose identity lies in his/her membership of multiple cultural groups."
"A TCK is someone who spends a lot of his/her time growing up outside of his/her native country. A TCK identifies himself/herself best with other TCKs. It is almost as if it is a nationality in and of itself!"
From what I hear, you are a TCK if any or all of the following apply:
Truthfully, this is a fascinating phenomena for me. The idea of a global citizen is appealing, and the fact that there are highly mobile family units that travel so much that they "float" in between nationalities is a lot to wrap your head around.
For more coverage, there was a UVA Today article about TCKs and the group on Grounds, TCKs at UVA.
The talk itself was fantastic. Tina Quick was a great presenter. She introduced fairly well the complicated identity of the Third Culture Kid, the benefits and downfalls of being a TCK, and the importance of colleges recognizing TCKs and their different needs from internationals and domestic students. She was engaging, she was humorous, and she was comprehensive. I could feel the weight of her expertise, having been a TCK herself and currently an adult TCK with children. Her book, The Global Nomad's Guide to University Transition, which is about how to ease the transition into college for TCKs will go on sale this summer.
“a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents’ culture" (Pollock and Van Reken). However that doesn't fully capture their identity because some TCKs have traveled between two or three countries and some TCKs have been to nine countries. Some quotes about what a TCK is that I stole from the section describing the TCK identity:
"A global citizen independent of cultural distinctions yet whose identity lies in his/her membership of multiple cultural groups."
"A TCK is someone who spends a lot of his/her time growing up outside of his/her native country. A TCK identifies himself/herself best with other TCKs. It is almost as if it is a nationality in and of itself!"
From what I hear, you are a TCK if any or all of the following apply:
- It takes you at least 15 minutes to answer the question “Where are you from?”
- You swear in a myriad of languages.
- You have a favorite seat in airports and on airplanes.
- You've filled out so many customs/immigration papers, you don't even need to know the language to know what they're asking.
- You don't know anything about the history or geography of your country of birth but know pretty much everything about any other place in the world.
- An earthquake, heavy storm, bomb threat, or anything else doesn't freak you out
- You have more than one type of currency weighing down your wallet with typically more of the currency that you don't need.
- You plan vacations to different countries just to get things cheaper than they are where you live.
- You have multiple vaccination cards because they keep getting filled up.
- You have to explain how you learned to speak certain languages, why you can speak some but not read others, and why you still can't speak some even though you lived in the country where they're used.
- People constantly tell you you're "interesting" or "different.”
- You practically jump someone when you find out they're also a TCK.
- The thought of living in one place for longer than a few years and NEVER leaving scares the living day lights out of you.
Truthfully, this is a fascinating phenomena for me. The idea of a global citizen is appealing, and the fact that there are highly mobile family units that travel so much that they "float" in between nationalities is a lot to wrap your head around.
For more coverage, there was a UVA Today article about TCKs and the group on Grounds, TCKs at UVA.
The talk itself was fantastic. Tina Quick was a great presenter. She introduced fairly well the complicated identity of the Third Culture Kid, the benefits and downfalls of being a TCK, and the importance of colleges recognizing TCKs and their different needs from internationals and domestic students. She was engaging, she was humorous, and she was comprehensive. I could feel the weight of her expertise, having been a TCK herself and currently an adult TCK with children. Her book, The Global Nomad's Guide to University Transition, which is about how to ease the transition into college for TCKs will go on sale this summer.
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