Back to Work

           Well, here we are, back again. Hello, everyone!

           Everything has begun settling back into rhythm. It’s amazing, how adaptable the human psyche is. After a few days here, it feels like I never left. I felt the same way when I went back home. I suppose the trick is to stay unaccustomed to and appreciative of the good things, and accustomed to and dismissive of the not-so-good things. I have yet to get the hang of that, though.

Just as a reminder from last semester, classes haven’t started yet. This week is “shopping period,” where you just try out courses. Or at least that’s what they say. In reality, a lot of the classes give homework on the first day of class, homework that’s due before shopping period ends. Still, it’s an excited, bustling time, with everyone rushing from one course to another to sample all the enticing options available. The majority will have at least one or two courses they’re sure of and several others competing for the remaining slots.

Of course, there are always exceptions, mainly those of us who have a lot of requirements to fulfill and have to take certain classes: the engineers, the pre-meds, and etc. And if you’re me, and you want to study abroad, do ROTC, learn two languages, and have a concentration and a secondary field (aka major and minor), then your path is pretty set. And thus I can already tell you what I’ll be taking.

First comes Hebrew. We have homework assigned for tomorrow, but it’s just a reading, and since the class is the same from last semester, it makes sense to go ahead and get down to business. It’s nice having a class in which I know everyone. The instructor is really nice, and I’m looking forward to a new semester with everyone.

I’m also taking a freshmen seminar this semester. Seminars are designed to be more discussion-based, and they also meet only once a week and are pass-fail, so that’s a plus. The one I’m taking is on National Security of Middle Eastern Countries, and I just finished the first session. Because you have to apply for seminars, most of the people who get in end up being in the class, and so we also have homework for that, even though it’s not graded.

Next up is physics. Yep, you guessed it – ROTC requirement. I’m taking a course that places a larger emphasis on computer modeling as opposed to the more traditional courses, which are notoriously difficult; I think the average midterm grade for the traditional physics course (for Harvard students, many of them engineering majors) was a 46. So, not being an engineering major, I opted for this course. We’ll see how it goes. And yes, there’s homework. But only reading.

The other two classes are Expository Writing, or Expos, and ROTC, which will start next week, so more word on that later. At the moment, the workload is very light, but because I came in not quite ready to finish break, and not expecting to have to start working until next week, it’s been a rough adjustment getting back down to work.

Not that I didn’t work over the holidays; I read 12 books, studied Hebrew and Spanish, learned the Arabic alphabet, and worked out. But now I need time management, and I have to deal with unexpected demands on my time, deadlines, and appointments. I lay out my plans for studying, but they keep getting interrupted, even as my to-do list grows. I know; that’s life. It’s just frustrating, and it’s hard to get back into the swing of things, especially when every class I attend manages to come up with something else for me to do.

A cappella is also starting up again; we’ve already had our first leadership meeting with the new staff, and tonight we have our first rehearsal. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again, as much as I would rather get some of these assignments knocked out and then head off to sleep.

Well, such is life. The semester is just starting up, and hopefully I’ll get my momentum going soon enough – we were informed in physics that this is a grossly inaccurate use of the word momentum. Oh, well. It’s not fun looking forward to 16 weeks of unbroken work, but I’ll warm to it once the initial transition is over. After all, this is Harvard. That’s how we roll.

PS - Most of these pictures are from our cruise over Christmas break, so thank you to my parents for taking them! And the others are my to-do list for today, my new (and enormous) physics book, and the new year's calendar. The last one is hard to see: that was taken at around 11:45 pm; that's actually the grassy/leafy area of the yard, but at the moment it's covered in ice, and so it shines in the lamplight. It looks cooler in person; you'll have to trust me on that one.

 

Back-to-School Blues

It’s that time again. That morning when the beeping of your alarm wakes you up and you think, “why would I get up this early”, and the annoyance that washes over you quickly succumbs to a brief panic at the realization that the moment you’ve been in denial about during break has finally come: from this moment on, you’re moving away from the warm, wonderful comfort of home and out into the wide, wide world. The panic, in the case of college, gives way to a wrenching pain, and you grab on to whatever is nearest and hold on tight, as if you can keep time from dragging you, kicking and screaming, back to duty’s call. And eventually common sense gives in, and the rush of emotions gives way to a grim resignation. And this is what is known as the “back-to-school blues”.

But let’s not make this a pity party, shall we? Let me tell you about break. The whole month was wonderful, really wonderful. I got to spend Christmas with my family, and I had time to rest and sleep late and take long, hot baths. Half of my presents were articles of warm winter clothing, and half were books – I believe the total count for the break was twelve. Oh, and did I mention the pages of Hebrew vocabulary and the entire book on the Arabic alphabet? We went on a week-long cruise for part of January, down to Cozumel and Progresso, and I actually thought it was summer for a very little while – even managed to get sunburned! And then we returned home to pack and discuss summer programs and look at scholarships.

I’ve also had time to watch a little TV, something I didn’t do much of during the semester. I’ve fallen back in love with BBC’s Sherlock – I think it’s one of the greatest things ever. The third series just started, but I haven’t been able to see it yet, and I’m not enough of a fan to pay iTunes 29 dollars when I can wait and find it for free. I actually got my parents to watch it this time around and we finished the sixth episode last night. Afterwards I thought about Sherlock, all alone in the world, going away from all the people he cares about, unable to visit, off to beat his own way through the hardships of the world. And yes, I felt a little sorry for myself.

I’m going to miss it. I’d forgotten, before I came home, just how much it hurt to be away, but I remember now. I’m going to miss my parents’ physical presence. I’m going to miss my dog, Zoey. I’m going to miss the smell of my car, the torn tinting in the back, the scrapes on the padding, and the metal around the back right window that no one’s ever bothered to cover up. And I’ll miss the memories they bring, all those late nights with the tension draining out, racing along the highway and slapping the steering wheel in time with the radio.

It’s true. I don’t want to go back. Everyone growing up always thought I loved school, but I never did. I loved learning, but I always instinctively pull back from leaving home for the big, cold, dark world. And of course, it doesn’t help if the actual place I’m heading really is quite cold and dark – ever been to Boston in February? The damp chill that rises from my gut and snakes along my skin is mixed, starting this year, with the stale parchedness and dry chill of an airplane. And yet – and yet, I know that somehow, I wouldn’t have myself any other way.

That’s my dichotomy, you see. I couldn’t stay at home; in order to stay sane I must always be doing something harder and more uncomfortable and more important that what I did before. I must always be climbing higher and higher, flying farther and farther, or I wouldn’t be myself. I am at my best under pressure, forging my own path, running myself into the ground. And yet, a part of me always longs to just come home and be at rest, to give up my wanderings and be content. My two sides are always in conflict, perhaps a conflict whose resolution may only be found in another world.

            Once I get to Harvard, the pain will numb, I know. This, too, shall pass. I can shed tears for the future, but once I get there I won’t feel it. It’s a defense mechanism, I suppose. Life comes at you one moment at a time, and the moments won’t be bad, not really. I like college. Sometimes I wonder if the whole thing is just a subjective dramatization I’m making too much of.

            But I don’t really believe that. I think there really is something wrong with this world, something objectively broken that means we will all feel pain, that means that in order to gain something, we have to put up with loss and pain and separation. That’s the way the world works, but I don’t think that’s the way it was meant to be.

            For now, though, I’ll of course survive and in all likelihood thrive. I almost forgot to tell you – I made A’s last semester. Yup, even Calculus. So as I head off again, I know that this is how it’s supposed to be. And I know that if I didn’t mind leaving home, if I wanted to say goodbye to my friends and family, then that in itself would be a symptom of something else gone terribly wrong.

            Still, it hurts in those windows when you remember what you’re missing. I once read a book which suggested that, in Heaven, everyone could have their own planet. I remember getting excited and telling my parents. They didn’t think it was such a great idea. “When would you see everybody? How would you get from one to the other?” Now I understand. What’s the good of having a planet if there’s no one to share it with?

            My main problem with going back to school is that there’s nothing to really grab onto there, nothing I really, really want to go back to. Yes, I have friends. Yes, I have activities. Yes, I have a dorm room. But it’s only been a few months. I’m an introvert; it takes me a long time to make good friends. And in the throes of emotion this morning I would have willingly traded all those relationships with all those people to avoid going through this pain every few months.

            But I didn’t, and I wouldn’t do it differently if I could. As I thought about it this morning, I realized that there was one person at Harvard I couldn’t give up, one person whose acquaintance I couldn’t miss out on. The only person worth going through all this for is the person I am becoming, the person who can emerge only when I go through stress and separation and pain and all the rest.

            And so off I go again, blues and all, prepared to go and conquer. This morning I did a last run-through of my things and then stepped out of my room for the last time until May, shutting the door firmly behind me. (No, not for dramatic purposes – because Zoey was in the house.) And then I left Texas behind me, not particularly happy, but determined. Ready or not – here I come.

Note: This isn’t the blog post for this week. I wrote this in the Austin airport; it’s a special end-of-vacation installment. So there will be another one this week. Also, note the pictures – there is one of my back porch; that’s the most ice I think I’ve ever seen on it. And the others – well…

I’m saving most of the pics for later this week, so tune in next time for more!