[imagine the death knell, tolling....]
School is starting.
Really, I do like school.
The other day, the Really Nice Clothing store received a shipment of 'Icelandic' brand vests. I was reminded of sixth grade, when I the over-achiever wrote a 60 (or some other obscene number) page report on Iceland. Complete with a pretty spiffy map overlay that showed how Iceland was the land of fire and ice.*
Just today, while thinking on what I'd like to write my 'document' on, I remembered the survey I did of all the oboe method books in the library. I remember sitting in the MT section for hours on end during my first degree, comparing the different etude books, etc. Perhaps the weirdest of that experience was that it was completely enjoyable.**
There was the Harry Potter paper. Or how
arundo donaxchanged the world, or the short document about the appropriateness of Orff's lyrics. Or my first exposure to ethnomusicology (though I didn't know it at the time) when I wrote about the Igbo people's music when we were to write about something from Chinua Achebe's book.
Each of these papers received various degrees of acceptable grades. Never an A, only A-'s or below. Even when they weren't As, I still felt I had learned something, and that if I would have spent a little more time refining (i.e. edited a bit more), I would have done better academically. I also learned that grades were not a motivating factor for me. The motivation must come from within.
That is my goal for this new academic year - to find something for which I can motivate myself to investigate, something that I find meaningful. Perhaps this is selfish of me. Yet, I have also found that 'when I'm helping, I'm happ[ier].'
Last semester a professor asked me what my passions were. I still don't know how to articulate them.
For example, it's not the oboe, but what can be done
with the oboe.
It's not the reed, but how trying different things with the reed can make it feel more comfortable, sound that much better and convey emotions even more strongly.
So where am I going with these ramblings?
Last year I stepped out on a limb; clambered a bit too far out on a branch when I traversed 'cross the country solita. I enjoyed school and the connections I made there. Conversely, I also felt at times that I was not always taken seriously.
More importantly, I'm tired of me putting forth a mediocre effort on my part because of the thin wobbly branch I was on.
[Side note: kitty's tail is fwopping angrily. Maybe if she'd stop biting me I'd stop plucking her off my lap. She has this strange desire to attack knees that are at rest.]
Instead of retreating, which I have been sorely tempted to do, I choose instead to reinforce this wobbly metaphorical branch where I'm perched.
As of now, I'm not quite sure how this is going to happen, but I think I have taken steps in the right direction.
***
My Academic Credo
I will not allow myself to be in school situations where I felt demeaned, because, though I am good at complaining, I'd rather spend time a bit more constructively.
I will find out that for which I am passionate, that which I enjoy, and work those into my educational studies.
Make my weaknesses, strengths. Okay, so I have a quiet voice. How can I use this to my advantage? Okay, I'm a bit spacey? Hmm...maybe this one doesn't have an advantage. :)
***
I think that is a good place to start, though I would like to solicit ideas from you, my bloggies friends. What are some possible ideas for my credo? What have you done that helps you in the world of academia? So that you enjoy what you are learning, and how you find research topics that you love.
[Side note: kitty is now lounging across the desk, head perched on my forearm.]
Disclaimer: I know not all life is meant to be fun, but I do believe it can be enjoyable. And, I'd say that 90% of my school experience last year really was quiet good; but that last 10% did a good job of souring the rest. Unfortunately.
* The reeaaally cool map was made possible with help from my dad.
** The formatting of the method book survey was only possible with my mum's help.
The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy
