The Heights
Thursday, December 6, 2012
A7
Opinions
Full house (finally)
Thumbs Up BC Compliments- It seems that the world has figured out how to use the Internet’s power of anonymity for good. Please welcome the antithesis of cyber bullying, Boston College Compliments: a Facebook page where BC students can post anonymous notes to friends telling them how smart, wonderful, and beautiful they are. Who knew that such a disproportionate number of the “best people in the world” attended BC? Another Thumbs Up to the creator of Boston College Neutral Comments because, we agree, there’s not enough hilarity in genuine admiration. Sleep and Study- The email about the 24-hour study spaces has finally arrived. Though some may view this as bad news, we choose to view it as the opposite. The days of zero obligations except to study are approaching and, mathematically, the chances of getting a couple hours of studying into a 12 hour time block are pretty good, so we hope we come out the other end stuffed full of knowledge and well-deserved rest. Plus, face it, the idea of hanging out in Gasson into the wee hours of the morning is kind of appealing, in a way. Except when we remember that only about 12 individuals will actually experience this luxury—the 12 who can scribble “occupied” on a ripped piece of paper and tape it to the door fast enough. Damn you.
Thumbs Down Holiday Horrors- We are outraged at the lack of completely useless and horrifically overpriced Christmas baskets for sale in the dining halls this season. What if we needed a large assortment of Christmas themed chocolate in a fun red bucket that we would never, ever re-use? It was bad enough that the muffin loaves were missing from our pre-Thanksgiving celebrations, but now this too? It’s almost as if BC Dining Services has cancelled the holiday season. All we know is, if there’s no free coffee come finals week, we at Thumbs Up Thumbs Down are staging a coup. That’s a wrap..?- OK, we hate to be the ones to say it, but we propose a mandatory, extensive, wrap-making boot camp for all members of the Dining Staff. Don’t get us wrong, we whole-heartedly appreciate everything you do for us and the fact that no matter what shape the “sandwich” you hand us at the end is, you always do it with a smile and a cheery decree that we have a nice day, but come on. How am I supposed to eat that? Ava n t - ga r d e a m b a s s a dor- Word on the street is Obama’s considering Anna Wintour, editor-in-chief of Vogue, for his ambassador to either the UK or France. While we would graciously accept her as our personal ambassador to the world of retail, jury’s still out on whether we’d trust her in the political sphere. For now, this is getting a TD.
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But this Thanksgiving I did see her…finally. Instead of sitting around the dining room table, hungover at 11 a.m. as in years past, that morning I sat in the Delta Airlines Arrival Terminal of Logan airport. Two and a half years of waiting later, my parents came up the escalator holding a 2.5-year-old child from the Congo, who was now my sister. It was a rush of excitement. And then a rush of…now what? The process seemed so long I didn’t really think of what it would be like if and when it actually happened. In many ways, the process of adoption helped to characterize my college experience. Countless Excel spreadsheets, interviews, Hillside sandwiches, and Natty Lights had come and gone since the first time I set my hopes on welcoming a new sister into my life. On the surface, it doesn’t seem like we have a lot in common. I’m white and grew up in the suburbs of Massachusetts. I have blue eyes and, as you can see from my headshot (which has not been changed in four years), I may or may not have the same hair stylist as Justin Bieber. I’ve experienced snow since the day I was born, when a vicious blizzard hit New England. I view my 110-pound Bernese mountain dog as a loveable pet and not an adolescent-sized lion. In fact, it’s kind of difficult to communicate with her. It’s not just because I’m about 18 years older and she probably doesn’t want to talk about my recent experience at Mary Ann’s, but she speaks a combination of broken French and Lingala. But let me tell you, boy oh boy do we have fun together. She had never seen a balloon before, and I have the attention span of a 2.5 year old. So, we toss balloons around the house for hours on end. (Smack it, watch it float in awe, smile, repeat…) I don’t think she had a flat screen TV where she was born, but we both think its hilarious to press the buttons on the clicker when our other siblings are trying to watch something, then laugh and run away. We agreed that
C.J. Gustafson Two and a half years ago my family decided to adopt a little girl from Africa. It was the end of my freshmen year, and to be honest, I never thought it would happen. As the oldest of four biological kids already, the event in general was too hard to imagine, too big of a shift in household dynamics to conceptualize. We’re going to go back to watching Elmo again? Seriously? Not to mention, Africa is really, really, really far away. The process felt like it took forever, especially because it was the topic of every dinner table conversation in recent memory in my house. Even when I wasn’t home and called my brother to see what had changed, he frequently quipped, “Well our house basically is Africa, less the African child we’re waiting for.” What made it even more interminable was the appropriate expectations of friends, since they were in essence waiting with us. I constantly felt I was fumbling the questions friends would ask me at parties. Multiple times I encountered the same awkward situation where a friend from freshman year asked sophomore, junior, and senior year the same question: “Is she here yet?” I’d shuffle my feet, offer a long explanation I didn’t fully believe myself, and receive a look of skepticism. No one in my family anticipated as many stumbles, trips, and painful wipeouts while trying to adopt internationally. At one point, we even changed the adoption agency and country all together. After a while, I began to get discouraged, sometimes feeling as if my friends now doubted the news I had once delivered to them with such excitement when I was a freshman. Thus, my attitude changed to “I’ll believe it when I see her.”
throwing crayons across a restaurant is a lot more fun than coloring peacefully in a restaurant. (We soon also agreed that being publicly scolded by our mom in the middle of a restaurant isn’t much fun). And ice cream…who doesn’t like ice cream? Especially pushing ice cream into someone’s face when they’re eating it, because that just looks silly. In short, smiling and laughing are universal. We’ve shared both over the last two weeks, regardless of cultural, geographic, and language barriers. I appreciate these commonalities that we as humans are able to share so much more now that my family is international. A few months before Ella arrived my mom exclaimed, “C.J., when you help move her into college in 15 years you’ll be so old, people will think you’re her father!” Without thinking, I replied, “Mom, what are you talking about, I’m white. Why would they think that?” But that was before. Even after the short period of time she’s been in my life, I’m becoming blind to any divisions that other people may view as existing between us. We are, to put it resolutely, family. We’ve enjoyed one Thanksgiving together so far. Recently, I got to thinking how 30 Thanksgivings down the road our table is going to be even more interesting. I failed to make the connection that inevitably my nieces and nephews will also look different than me. But, I’m realizing that it doesn’t matter how we look, just how happy we feel to all finally be together. My mom is bringing Ella to come and visit me at BC soon. If you’re looking for us, we’ll probably be the ones showering Crayons across Eagle’s Nest and spilling frozen yogurt on my roommates. But I guarantee we’ll be having fun (finally). C.J. Gustafson is a staff columnist for The Heights. He welcomes comments at opinions@bcheights.com.
Study abroad
Marye Moran While my classmates were waking up early to register for spring semester courses, I was sound asleep. While they were filling out their applications for club executive boards, I was looking up tourist sites in Europe. And while they went to hockey games with their season tickets, I, who will not be at BC for most of the season, booked my flight to London. Although I am only studying abroad for a semester, my entire junior year has been shaped by the decision. This fall, I spoke with an economics professor about becoming a research assistant, but given my limited time on campus, was unable to participate. I thought about getting involved in the planning committee for the Campus School Marathon Team, but since I won’t be here for Marathon Monday, decided against it. My spring abroad has even impacted my summer activities, severely limiting what internships I can apply to based on mandatory second semester interviews. I’ve felt it outside of the classroom too. When figuring out housing last year, my roommate and I had to weigh the experience of having a house with our friends versus the hassle of finding subletters for half of the year. Relationships are becoming all-or-nothing, as couples either decide to be serious and stay together, or figure it’s not worth it and break up. I already had to decide who I will spend most of my time with senior year, since I needed to come up with a housing group before going overseas. I’m not backing out of study abroad, given that most of my friends are going and I have a typical BC student’s fear of missing out, but I think for most students, the study abroad experience
Naive Holiday Turkeys
is not worth it. People go for cultural exchange and, in some cases, language acquisition, both of which are important life experiences. But for most students, I don’t think college is the time or place for it. About 40 percent of BC undergraduates study abroad during their junior year, and the Office of International Programs (OIP) actually says that the ideal situation is to go for an entire year. They cite research saying that, “students who have had international study experience are better equipped to compete in a global job market.” While cultural understanding and language skills are helpful, both of those qualities can be achieved in a context other than a semester abroad. And for most BC
I think for most students, the study abroad experience is not worth it. students, study abroad is far from a true cultural exchange. The OIP website says that, “historically, the most popular study abroad destinations have been Great Britain, Spain, Italy, Ireland, Australia, and France.” While BC does have programs in locations like Morocco, Tanzania, and Japan, most students are not choosing those cultures that are so different than ours. Out of those six popular locations, half are English-speaking, and English is still widely spoken in the other three countries. Almost all schools have options to take classes in English, and while there are often home-stay options, many students live with other Americans and spend most of their time traveling, not becoming immersed in local culture. Of the three student quotes on the OIP website about housing, one describes their immersion, one describes living in “quite a western-style flat” in Cairo, and another student talks about living “with BY KALEB KEATON
two other American students.” When people study abroad, they often maintain the idea of visiting, not living in, the foreign country. There is nothing wrong with this idea. My goal for study abroad is not to gain a deep understanding of British culture, but rather, to travel throughout Europe and see the beautiful scenes and historical sites. I realize that this could be done at another time, and, in fact, I think it should be. Many study abroad programs go longer than BC’s semester does, as I, for example, have committed to being in London until mid-June. Why not just finish classes at BC in May and spend a month touring through Europe? The financial burden would not change—either way I’m buying one round-trip ticket—and then I would be able to focus my time. Travel when I’m supposed to be traveling. Study when I’m supposed to be studying. Be a BC student when I’m supposed to be a BC student. Students leaving for a semester are often barred from on-campus leadership positions, research involvement, or even coursework, being unable to take classes that span two semesters. Study abroad strains friendships, making some students not see each other for months on end, or if friends go abroad opposite semesters, for over a year. Friendships become all-or-nothing—with the burden of keeping in touch, it’s either a big commitment or the friendship is put on hold. For the students who do home-stays, go to locations like Nepal or Chile to experience a location they would never go to otherwise, and gain fluency in another language, study abroad is a great opportunity. But for most of the 40 percent of BC that goes abroad, the semester throws off an experience that is designed to last four years. There are benefits, but are they always worth the costs? Marye Moran is a staff columnist for The Heights. She welcomes comments at opinions@bcheights.com.
Holidaze Kristy Barnes There are two times during the course of the year when it becomes socially acceptable to skip your service group’s pre-game (anyone else see the irony?) and the subsequent festivities on Foster in order to stay in the cubby of O’Neill you have claimed. That’s right ladies and gentlemen: it’s finals time. If we break down these weeks of hell here at Boston College, we find there are three categories based on study habits that the majority of students fall into. The Bapst Kid: The students who dare to enter the most gorgeous building on campus are not here for the arm workout they will undoubtedly receive when opening the heavy wooden doors, but rather to work the muscles of the mind. So don’t let the beauty of the stained glass fool you; these kids are mean, lean, studying machines. Those in Gargan Hall are so serious that if one dares to cough, they receive the evil eye from half of the frantic students and are cursed at in the minds of everyone else. Bapst’s ground floor is packed with those who like to study by themselves…with others. The cubbies offer a chance for the serious students to pretend to be social while silently sitting next to their serious student friends, but hey, they were social on the walk to Bapst, so that counts, right? Deep in the basement are those who wish not to be distracted for the five or more hours they will be there, so enter with caution, for it’s possible once you descend down the daunting steps, you may not exit until the librarian comes to physically part you from your biology book. The O’Neill Kid: If not seen sprawled out napping on a chair, then the students who prefer O’Neill can be found juggling their Facebook newsfeed and the ten-page theology take-home that’s due the next day. While it’s possible to accomplish a good amount of work here, the busy-atmosphere makes it difficult, for every time the pitterpatter of footsteps nears, you’re bound to raise your eyes from your text, just in case it is someone you know. As the campus’ blandest building increases in height, the students inside increase in intensity. The first three floors are where the social butterflies gather to exchange the weekend’s gossip and maybe, if they are feeling extra productive, go over a few questions on their study guide. The atmosphere of the fourth and fifth floors is a little more serious and perfect for the students who need to get some work done, but are too timid to confront the glares that accompany any entrance into Bapst. But be sure to enter the top floors with caution—those chairs are awfully comfortable and it won’t be long until you’re fighting the slippery slope of an unexpected slumber. The Kid That Tries to Study in Mac: We all feel sorry for these suckers, as they use oversized headphones in an attempt to silence the noise of hungry freshmen chowing down the questionable concoction on their plates. It’s a mystery as to why these students think they will be productive in a cafeteria, yet without fail, during these final weeks, Mac all of a sudden becomes a hotspot for homework. I guess they get props for trying, right? While our study habits may differ, there is something we unfortunate souls have in common: we are miserable. With end of the semester papers and projects due this week and finals just around the corner, it’s easy to become furious with frustration as you frantically read the four finance books you put off reading all semester, because, after all, that’s what reading days were made for! It is during these final weeks that BC students enter what is known as the Holidaze, or the state of existence between Thanksgiving and Christmas break where one simply eats, sleeps, and studies. Even our party habits are put on hold, as we prepare for the exams that hopefully will boost our grades and make up for that test we slept through. While it is important to buckle down over the next two weeks—please know I will be the kid who is in a tug of war with the librarian—it is also important to put finals into perspective. In reality, each final is just one test, which factors in to one grade, for one class, in one semester of your entire college career. So, take a second and ask yourself: are A’s on all your finals worth being a Grinch during the most wonderful time of the year? Now, how do we prevent our skin from turning green when the worst and best times of the years are in the same weeks? Start with a deep breath. Remember what it took to get you here, and appreciate the amazing gift of a BC education. Maybe take a moment to enjoy the beauty of BC in the snow or have a conversation over hot cocoa. And for that meltdown that is bound to happen in the library of your choice the night before your chemistry final, I give you the words of my favorite author, David Foster Wallace, to help you keep moving forward: “No single, individual moment is in and of itself unendurable.” So, keep chugging along BC, and remember that what we receive here is a precious gift: don’t waste a second of it. Kristy Barnes is a staff columnist for The Heights. She welcomes comments at opinions@bcheights.com.