sarita rising

I'm resuscitating this blog for several reasons. It's early May 2008, I've been out of college for a year, the Amanda Marcotta/BfP/Seal Press/WAM blogosphere explosion just happened, and I have a lot of thoughts to process. We'll see where it goes.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

why'dya hafta go and make things so complicated?

i've been associated with Sarah Lawrence, as an institution, for four years now (my senior year of HS, as a prospie, and my three years of enrollment). for the very first time, tonight, i heard a graduation requirement with which i was not previously familiar: one must spend the entirety of either their junior or senior year on the Bronville campus.

this mucks up my plans, which were to go to Central America this spring (non-SLC program) and go to Cuba (SLC program) next fall, my senior year.

i have to petition the committee on student work to be an exception to the residency rule. i have to argue a case, essentially.

okay, so:
- I couldn't go to Cuba this year because I lacked the Spanish proficiency, so I want to do it my senior year.
- If I spend all my junior year here, I'm still not *sure* I'll speak Spanish well enough to do coursework IN Spanish.
- Doing Augsburg is probably the only thing that will equip me with the confidence in my Spanish to study in Cuba; hence, it is an essential stepping-stone in my academic development and my road to Cuba.
- I want to do the Augsburg program because I think it is unique, I like the structure of it, I adore the emphasis on considering a broader community; an emphasis I feel is lacking in most study abroad programs. The theme of the program is in keeping with my education and will be both personally and academically fulfilling.

so, I am constructing my reality this way:
- Either I win the Committee on Student Work battle and do both programs and everyone is happy, or,
- I just do Augsburg. I am unwilling to wager my entire opportunity to go abroad on the Committee's decision; furthermore, I do not know if I will feel comfortable enough with Spanish to go to Cuba if all I complete Isabel's Advanced Intermediate Spanish class. That isn't enough for me, at least not enough to feel reassured.
- There is no way I will just do Cuba.

Damn.

PS, don't you think, if you were the director of study abroad programs, you would make sure SLC kids KNEW about this? i checked the website, and this requirement is NOT listed by the registrar's office NOR the study abroad office. you have to go to "Undergraduate Study," then click "Academic Program Guidelines," and THEN go to "Requirements for B.A." - something most SLC students would NEVER do on their own, figuring 120 credits, that's it. SOOOO FRUSTRATING!!!!

Friday, September 23, 2005

changes

starting with this post (i think), i'm turning on the comment feature where you have to copy a word into a box to prove you're a human and not a computer. so, yall, an extra step in order to say what you gotta say.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

letters

dear suzanne -
please cut me some damn slack. i know i'm being flaky and i suck and all, but . . . um . . . you're kind of being an asshole. okay, so i am too. but anyway, slack would be nice. everyone else cuts me slack. i hate setting up meetings, and i don't really like coming to see you because i don't think you like me; maybe that's just you being naturally aloof and standoffish, i dunno, or maybe one semester wasn't enough to base a relationship of this magnitude on (ooh, i need you to sign papers once a semester. why can't i just drop by your office for that?). grr. and bah.

dear sketchy boy #1:
gracias por la conversacion anoche. yo quiero mas, por favor. te quiero mucho, dude. but seriously, thank you.

dear spanish class gods -
i am reeeaaalllllyyy scared of the class i'm about to commit to . . . please don't beat up on me too bad, ok?

dear spanish teacher,
please tell me my spanish is worse than i thought and i simply misheard what you said about me doing conference work when i'm a language/lecture third, and therefore splitting duties for your class with another one. i REALLY don't want to write you a conference paper. i KNOW you are going to kick my ass and i am going to hate it while it's happening but in the end the idea is i'll be in better stead this way.

dear dad:
thank you for coming to visit in october. i'll be so happy to see you. i want to come home. i am being a selfish brat. i'm sorry. thank you for all that you do, for putting up with my constant phone calls, and for allowing me to be here. what you said about concentrating on classes like spanish rather than work helped give me some perspective - my purpose at school is to learn and to study, why can't i grasp that and relax about it?

anyway, thanks.


dear sketchy boy #2:
please call me in two weeks or i will hate you forever.

dear angelone family -
welcome to the neighborhood. i haven't called and said it yet because, well, i suck. see above. but thank you for convincing my daddy to come visit in october.

dear self
get a damn grip already. yeesh. crying won't solve anything. move your ass, ho.

empathy is bad for me

i read a book for psych (the autobiography of one of the Little Rock Nine) and sobbed the whole way through. i kept telling myself, this is academic reading, get some distance, and i just couldn't. i cried when someone threatened to kill her rather than have her in school with their kids, i cried when she remained positive in the face of these odds that would have made anyone run. i just cried. what the hell is wrong with me?

Sunday, September 18, 2005

note to self: CTFO

i declare this week officially begins fall in new york, specifically on my campus. i want it to be beautiful, to cool off, for me to figure out some cute ways to pair summer stuff and heavier stuff (patterned black stockings under skirts, maybe?), i want the leaves to change color ever so slowly and to not feel ridiculous for wanting a cup of tea. because really, fall here is so beautiful. and it reminds me so much of my childhood - i just end up wanting to buy colored pencils (because art supplies always hold the promise when you buy them that you will someday have the time and talent to use them, and use them well). and maybe fall will calm me the fuck down.


because i have been stressed as hell.

- my poetry teacher probably thinks i'm stupid. (i am NOT being deliriously paranoid, it was a nightmare first conference, i felt so stupid, but i swear i would have been more prepared if he hadn't sprung a time change on me!) and the poems i've been writing really won't help his impression. maybe taking a workshop this semester was a mistake.

- i cannot do prison, due to my own fuckup, and i just . . . don't not get what i want very often, i don't think i make un-fixable mistakes very often, and this just sucks. i hate it when i suck, and i do suck.

- fighting fighting fighting anger anger anger, none of it misdirected, most of it misunderstood.

- still the horrible awful no good very bad feeling of "what SHALL i do with my life?" which is plaguing me and i have no way to figure it out and don't know how to get pointed in the right direction. and, um, everyone i talk to feels the exact same way which makes me very frightened that it's a general malaise and we'll turn into those horribly average losers that have been fodder for so many "gen X" films (reality bites comes to mind) and man would that suck. miserable averageness is the most depressing thing in the world. which brings me to my next item.

- spent the weekend at my aunt's and visiting my cousin at villanova. my aunt is stuck in a miserable, loveless marriage and i HATEHATEHATE her husband in a way i can barely explain except to say it is only the thought of prison that keeps me from doing him physical harm. i loathe this man. and my grandparents are . . . miserable. suffice it to say, it was the perfect example of horrible averageness all weekend, and it just made me so terrified. and glad that i'm single, if that's what being coupled is.

- i am being an ass, generally, specifically in relation to a couple of people, and i don't particularly want to work very hard to fix it. no, i want to curl into a ball and be held and watch movies, i want to order takeout and laugh while i eat it, i want to go back to chicago where i didn 't have to think about things, but i most certainly do not want to do scary things or behave myself or work to be social or get my schoolwork done. none of that appeals to me. leaving school and never coming back appeals to me, buying a plane ticket to anywhere but here appeals to me, telling people what assholes i think they are appeals to me, but functioning as a normal human being, accepting the fact that i am average, and getting on with it DOES NOT APPEAL TO ME. it simply doesn't. i want to say go fuck yourself, but i don't know who to.

- i miss my family and i want to cry. one would think, as a junior in college, i would have gotten over this by now. i want to go home. i'm exhausted. how can i already need R&R, how can getting off campus for a weekend have made me feel like i need a vacation? but i'm stressed and exhausted and all i want is to cry.

Friday, September 09, 2005

manifesto

dear C -
when you asked if i'm passionate about anything, my first response was to yell at you. to scream, really. in rage and protest that it isn't obvious - can't you see, i'm a very passionate person?! i wanted to be angry because the answer yes, i am passionate but no, i have no direction, no guiding principle. this scares the hell out of me, and i hate that it's so obvious to you. more honestly, no. i haven't found my passion (yet). i am searching, desperately, passionately, frantically, but it certainly isn't found. i have the capacity for great passion, i have ideas and principles about which i feel passionately - things that fire me up. but i lack guidance or a unifying theme. i know this; i know not how to remedy it.

furthermore, i am taken aback by your paternal tone in guiding me.

my own defensiveness aside, i have thought (perhaps without scrutiny) about this institution and my involvement. this place is exclusive, it is structured differently (somewhat), and marketed the same as other places. it practices tokenism, both within the administration and among the student body. the school claims alternative values but, like any other college, its practices include indirect (and direct) worker exploitation, gentrification, a promotion of unethical consumerism, and is just all-around a bad neighbor. some instances are flagrant - the appropriation of a Bronxville area code, the buying of Hill House and driving out its residents - and some less so. there are claims the student body becomes more mainstream every year. when the more "radical" students DO raise a ruckus the school takes steps to pacify and compromise, followed by a typical institutional inaction.

of course it is up to students to hold the school accountable, and of course SLC kids have a good opportunity to do that and maybe one day even become a model for it. of course we must demand transparency from a place that wants to claim a legacy of activism and liberalism but still requires Flik workers to come in on snow days and Flora workers to go for 24 hours straight. yes, it is our job to keep the administration honest if they won't do it themselves, and they have proven they won't. we should do this not because we are bleeding heart liberals and not because it will resolve our guilt. we should do this because it's the right thing to do, and because this school misrepresents itself to everyone and their sister each time it claims to be a shining example of "difference." the cynicism displayed on the part of the admin - through reluctance and resistance to change, via negative responses to the most idealistic and revolutionary of students - is disheartening. the cruel joke of a marketing ploy - you are different, so are we - is simply a lie. we are not different by much. the student body, through its inaction, is failing what should be the ideals of the school as much as the administration failed to ever attempt them. it's our school, and we have to take it back.

________________________________

you raised the question of what the "activists" on this campus will fight for. much of it, of course, is self-serving. we want HIV testing on campus because we are too damn lazy (or scared) to get on a bus or train and go get tested for free in the Bronx, because we want things at our fingertips. it would be more just to raise a clamour about providing free HIV testing not only for students, but for workers, staff, and the surrounding communities as well. but that's dangerous because it might spark a discussion about the school's benefits (or lack thereof) for workers. we'll fill Empty Bellies in the Bronx but send Flik workers home without anything resembling a living wage. we'll teach at the Early Childhood Center but not question its admissions practices. hell, we'll work in admissions and not question our own admissions practices, much less our recruiting tactics. hello, where is the dialogue about Fall and Spring Collective? is it really appropriate for this school, in the name of "diversity," to truck in people of color and have them watch panels and performances by other people of color, while we all pretend this campus doesn't reek of unexamined white privilege? when did that become okay with everyone? how do the participants feel about it?

what about the decision not to let the Red Cross on campus for blood donation? yes, the FDA guidelines suck, but i personally will not allow a political belief to overshadow an opportunity to save lives. the school prioritized differently - it chose a political principle over saving lives. i disagree, and i want the opportunity to say so (okay, really, i want to yell at some whiteboys to stop whining about their "oppression," get over it and do something besides chase away the Blood Donation Bus, but that's just a personal whim). my point is, don't even give me any bullshit about the lack of dialogue here, the apathy. most students are not, at their core, apathetic. but a lot of them do not know how to get heard, and have spent years being brainwashed and internalizing a message of disempowerment. aside from holding the administration accountable, this is the biggest, most important task we face: giving students a new, innovative space to make themselves heard, and - here's the novelty - actually acting upon their words. this is the longterm solution we need, this is the way we equip people with the tools for their own empowerment - by simply showing them their words can be acted upon. this is the elegantly simple way to have the profound impact we are hoping to achieve.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Right to Write

cross post with my LJ (shut up):

so, prison meeting.

for some reason it made me really angry. people have all sorts of misconceptions about prison, prisoners, and what writing will do for them. i'm sure i was the same way, but at least i knew enough to admit that this would be unlike anything i'd done before.

(likewise i'm sure my anger is due in part to probably being the one who'd done it most recently and not being asked for any input. i'm not mad Corey is leading the program this year; i would only have to leave if i were in charge. but if you're trying to describe what this program IS to people who don't know, having Irene King talk, who's never done it, won't really help. listening to regina - the founder of the program - is great, but she hasn't done the program in at least five years, and she's become a dean since then. she sounded . . . condescending and out of touch, to my ears.)

the general attitude among students was one of, this program sounds like it's really good for THOSE PEOPLE. THOSE PEOPLE need things like this. THEY need "creative outlets" and WE are the ones to provide "creative outlets" for THEM.

i have news for you. walking into prison changed my life. these women were all older than me, all gobs more worldly-wise, street smarter than me. my books and my theories and my social science 101 courses didn't matter one whit in there, nor did my workshop experience. and, i'll admit, i don't think one woman started identifying herself as a writer by the time i left. i just don't. i don't know how much that comments upon my teaching skills, but the group i had just wasn't as . . . i don't want to say advanced, but didn't have as strong a grasp as some of the basics of literary vocabulary. if i'd gone in there to teach a class on simile, i would've lost them before 10 minutes was up. and, it may come as a surprise, but there WERE groups where you could teach classes on simile or metaphor and engage them. but that just wasn't my group. my group was reading the poem slowly and explaining it to each other as they went. only about half my group wrote on any given day. but, honestly, these women could talk. there are disagreements among us volunteers about how much the talking is useful versus disruptive, but i think it was important for *them* (god i hate that word sometimes) to feel heard by someone outside prison. to tell their experiences to someone who'd had different ones.

teaching in prison is probably one of the most humbling experiences of my life to date. every arrogant undergrad should be sent into a correctional facility. you can't not treat *these people* with respect - their conditions are so dehumanizing, and they do have the well-honed skills to take you down a notch, at least verbally, should the need arise. but you find yourself wanting to respect them, to treat them well, to be less dehumanizing in this hellish environment. and the women absolutely return it. they were respectful of us, and once they felt comfortable enough to rib us, we knew they trusted us.

one thing people really miss when talking about prison: my group cared about Lea and I. Lea came back from spring break with a nasty sunburn, and everyone offered her sympathy, recommended salves, and inquired the next week as to whether it was healing. one week i had a particularly nasty cold, and one of the women went to fetch me tissues. these are sweet, caring women, most of whom are (or would be) wonderful caregivers.

i miss them. as hard as it is, i can't wait to get back to prison. i feel so privileged to get to do it, because not only do i get to be acquainted with these smart, funny women, but they send me home with lots of interesting food for thought every week. in a weird way, prison nurtures me.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

apples and trees

from dailykos.com:

"Barbara Bush - the woman whom no less an authority than Dick Nixon said "knows how to hate," the woman who didn't want to trouble her "beautiful mind" with thoughts of "body bags and deaths" - has now offered us yet another gem. After visting refugees staying at the Houston Astrodome, she had this to say:

"And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this (she chuckled slightly)--this is working very well for them."

What a cold, callous, wretched ghoul of a person. I just don't even know what else to say."


well, at least now we know where the president gets it from.

Monday, September 05, 2005

life goes on

i've been bouncing around so much lately. between despair over katrina, the failure of immediate official response ("lack" seems too gentle a word), excitement over my classes and this semester and everything, and just general, you know, living. like, i went to jersey and that was the same as it always is; i found an extra pillow case, the origin of which completely flummoxes me, in with all my crap. (really, any excuse to describe myself as "flummoxed.")

i'm in two psych classes this semester, which is completely weird because previous to this i haven't taken any psych classes ever.

and a poetry class.

i'm so sarah lawrence my head might explode.

i have a real room now, complete with amenities like sheets and comforters and fan, microwave and fridge. i have a chair now, my aunt insisted, and a swiffer. and i plan on buying an iron tomorrow. i feel so freaking domesticated. i keep telling myself, don't acquire shit - you're moving every three months between here and forever.

i miss my family.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

the letter i sent

Elected officials in every U.S. state and territory, from local government to federal, are listed here:
http://www.congress.org/congressorg/home/

i called the white house. comment line closed.

here is the letter that i emailed to the "president."


Dear Mr. President -

Sir, your inaction on behalf of the victims of Hurricane Katrina appalls me. Once it became clear that a hurricane was to hit New Orleans, you should have ended your vacation and, at the very least, made sure that local, state, federal and FEMA officials were doing all they could to anticipate and coordinate relief efforts. Your failure to do so is another callous example of your administration's disregard for human life. As with your initial paltry offering of aid to tsunami victims, you have exhibited a basic lack of empathy.

There are people dying, minute by minute, because of your lack of leadership. Where are the values you trumpet? Why are people still trapped on rooftops? After the WTC collapsed it took less than six hours to completely block off lower Manhattan, to evacuate and secure it. Why are the poor people of New Orleans any different? I suppose I've answered my own questions - lower Manhattan is not a slum; the Financial District no ghetto.

Mr. Bush, you had no problems firing the country up to go to war, to chase down terrorists. You convinced Americans to stock up on bottled water and gas masks, to fear Islamic militants and give blood. Why, sir, can you not convince FEMA to marshall its resources and save New Orleans? Why can you not gather what troops remain in the country? Why aren't they there yet? Where is the Coast Guard? Don't you, as their Commander-in-Chief, determine where they go? Shouldn't you, as a strong leader, guide them in the right direction, towards saving lives and lessening this terrible suffering? Sir, as the leader of the free world, is there nothing more you can do than take photos with victims, who are suffering as much from lack of relief efforts as from the disaster itself?

We are Americans. Around the world, we secure peace zones and topple dictatorships. Have we nothing more to offer our own people than a dark, dank Superdome and the threat of disease and death? Can we do no better?

I am ashamed of you, sir. Ashamed of your failures. New Orleans was a shining example of the best of American cities; you are a disgrace to the American spirit of generosity and brotherhood.

You do not make me ashamed to be an American; merely ashamed that you are one, too.