School years

It’s almost like I am just along for the ride, as if the goal of my time spent in class is assured, a foregone conclusion, and I just have to be here physically. But that isn’t quite it either. I suppose that another way of putting it is that I feel like I am supposed to be here. I feel more at home here in class than I do anywhere else. And not just in class, but anywhere on campus. It feels like I am taking part in something amazing. To me, being a student is a noble endeavor. I do not mean that in an, “I am noble” kind of way, but that the pursuit of knowledge is an admirable pursuit. I also do not mean that in a “you should admire me because I am a student” kind of way, as you should already admire me, and in fact want to be me, because I am me.

Regardless of what you start studying, what you end up studying, when you start, or even why you start, learning is a privilege. Too many people, including myself, do not take it seriously. It is a gift, one that we can use to advance ourselves with. By making myself more knowledgeable I am more useful to those around me, a better shinier piece of my community than I was without that knowledge. I have felt for years that the job(s) that I have worked at do not affect anyone, not in a big picture kind of way. I want to teach because I want to feel like I am actually a part of this society, a part that actually contributes. This isn’t to knock anyone else at all, just myself.

I am writing this while sitting in my Trigonometry class. The guy two seats over from me, the one still wearing his bike helmet and gloves, just pulled out his Nintendo DS and is banging away at it. Nice. The girl in front of him is writing “HELLO BABE” in huge block letters in her notebook, as if she is trying to send a signal to her boyfriend. You know, in space. There is another guy that keeps getting up and leaving the classroom, while the professor’s back is turned. Then, after the professor has turned back to the class, and then back to the board, he gets back to his seat with no one the wiser. It’s uncanny I tell you!

I don’t feel like these people should have the same sense of worth regarding their education, because (and let’s be honest here) I am almost thirty and most of them are around 19. I have the advantage of having worked jobs that require no formal education, and having felt the sting of being stuck in them because of that lack of education. It sucks. I have not felt like stopping this journey since I started, and I am nowhere near being done, but every day brings me closer to my goal. I can see it every time I close my eyes.

Or maybe that is what everyone sees when they mix too much work, too much school and too much Smirnoff.

Not just another Sunday

The power of shared experiences is amazing. There is an energy to these events that imprints them as very different from our normal day-to-day events. People always remember where they were when major events happened, remember what they were doing. They might not have felt the same about the event, but people over a certain age remember where they were and what they were doing when the Challenger shuttle exploded. They remember where they were and what they were doing when students stood in front of tanks in Tiananmen Square, and were killed. For people in California, mostly Southern California, those of a certain age remember the L.A. riots very differently than those people that live farther away.

Not all of these events are negative ones. On Sunday (this was written a couple of days after the SuperBowl but I am so lazy that it is only now getting up) millions of people in the U.S. watched the SuperBowl. Regardless of which team you rooted for, you were not alone. Whether you sat at home physically alone, with a group of friends, or sat at a bar with strangers, you were not alone. My brother and sister in Chicago, my brother in Virginia, my brother on a ship somewhere in the Pacific, my parents in Marshall, my friends in L.A., Riverside, Arizona... We all watched together. I would rather have watched the game with all of these people in front of one huge freakin' televison, but that is a tad harder to accomplish.

You could feel the energy from so many people cheering, rooting, praying for the same thing. Last year I missed the game, but I feel like I missed much more than a simple football game. I feel like I missed a connection to those around me. We spend so much time alone in our experiences, so missing a shared experience makes me feel left out.

I know that there are a lot of people that do not watch football, or even sports at all, but it is similar to being at church on Christmas. Anyone who goes to church at all (Christians only I suppose) goes on Christmas. Millions of people, more than at any other time of the year, celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Together. Separated by thousands of miles, separated by language and cultural gulfs, all of these people share this same event.

Similar to the shared experience of a single large event is the repetition of the same event. When I stand in a church, regardless of whether or not it is during mass and filled with people or empty save me, I can feel the energy left by the people that have come before me. The building is infused with their hopes, dreams, joys, sorrows, grief... infused with them. All of them praying for, in theory, the same things. The hundreds, thousands, of people that have stood, knelt, or sat in the same spot leave something of themselves. It is a calming effect, and it can be felt as soon as you step into the building. It was my favorite part about going to church.

I guess it is kind of hard to know what events are going to stick with you, which ones are going to be "historical," but the ones that I really try to hold onto are ones like the SuperBowl. All of us just enjoying the game regardless of who we were or what we believe in. Just whether or not you were a Bears or Colts fan. It was awesome, and I think I am still kind of feeling a high from it. I am sure that something will come to take that away in just a day or two, but for now I will revel in it.

Walking the walk

I realized tonight that I do not make the most of the city that I live in. I do not take advantage of really any of the things that Riverside has to offer. I suppose that it is no different than anywhere else that I have lived, at least in the way that I live in it. I work, I go to school, I live and I sleep here. But I look at other cities and think, "Why can't I live there? Where they have a city that lives?" Crap! Total crap! First, I have no idea what I am talking about. I mean, comparing Riverside to Chicago, or Los Angeles, or San Francisco, or New York leaves Riverside behind those cities in what most people would call "culture." But using that as a reason to avoid what this city has to offer is just stupid. Second, I do this thing where I tell myself, and others, that I'm not that type of person. I think I mean the type of person that enjoys or goes to art shows, book and poetry readings, etc. Which, at the last time that I checked, I am. It appears that my laziness knows no bounds.

But I beat it tonight. I made it to the Riverside Art Walk. Granted, I made it pretty late. I also did not even find the place I really wanted to go to, and most of the rest of the parts of the Art Walk were closed or closing when I did get there and find them. What I saw though was awesome. It helped me to realize that comparing Riverside to other places, in reference to the "culture" here is only a way to help me avoid what is here. Or maybe, just to help me avoid here.