I had one of those moments today. I wrote a blog post not long ago (see post entitled "Dichotomy?" dated 2/22/12), and in it I talked about how pointless the devotionals before my math classes are.
Well today, as my prof started reading from her little devotional book (which I have not liked, for the most part), the words caught my attention and I listened a little more closely. It seemed to apply exactly to me and where I am at this moment in my life. After class I asked her if I could copy down what she'd read, and she let me do so:
"You are on the right path. Listen more to Me, and less to your doubts. I am leading you along the way I designed for you. Therefore, it is a lonely way, humanly speaking. But I go before you as well as alongside you, so you are never alone. Do not expect anyone to understand fully My ways with you, any more than you can comprehend My dealings with others. I am revealing to you the path of life day by day, and moment by moment. As I said to My disciple Peter, so I repeat to you: Follow Me."
The devotional book is called Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. Each devotional is a little paragraph or so written as if God is speaking to you personally. What makes me raise an eyebrow is that it takes one or two verses (potentially disregarding whatever context they were in), and not only rephrases them but "pads" them, if you will. Fluffs them up. I don't know that I can explain it much better than that, but from the example above, you might be able to tell what I mean.
The verses given for the devotional above are Psalm 119:105 and John 21:22. Psalm 119:105 says simply, "Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path," and the only piece from John 21:22 used in the paragraph are the words "follow me."
I don't want to completely close myself off to the devotional, because it might have some good things to say. But I am still learning how to approach interpretations of Biblical text and how much I should trust things that others write about the Bible in this fashion. I am not a theology major, and may never have the kind of training required to do translating and interpreting of Biblical texts myself and so am rather dependent on other people's translations and interpretations. But I am wary of taking them without question and applying them to my life (especially when they seem to me to lean toward the "fluffy" side). But I don't want that to mean that I'm always rejecting teaching when it could be that I need to hear and listen and learn something.
Anyway. All that to say that I made a big fuss about how pointless the devotionals were and, wouldn't you know, it actually led to some deeper thinking today, which has to mean that it wasn't entirely useless.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Art, Faith, and Rachel Corrie: The First of Many
I feel as though I just need to write everything down so I don't forget it someday when I perhaps am able to sit down to write it more eloquently.
The events of the past month or two have been... interesting. Let me start by telling you about senior projects.
The IWU Comm department has a Media Communication major, Public Relations major, Journalism major, Communication Studies major, and a Theatre major that all fall under the umbrella of Communication. Every Communication major at IWU has to do a senior project in order to graduate. The student, perhaps with the help of a professor or adviser, comes up with an idea for his or her senior project and writes a proposal that is then approved by his or her adviser. Theatre majors do this too, but their process is actually slightly more complicated. Because Theatre majors most often choose to work in some capacity on a play within the IWU Theatre Guild season, soon-to-be senior Theatre majors have a hand in choosing the upcoming year's season of shows. Each show that the Theatre Guild presents as a part of their season has to go through the additional process of being approved by the Theatre Advisory Board. The TAB provides us with accountability and also with legitimacy. They help us decide whether or not the shows we do are suitable for our audiences and they also back us up on the decisions that we do make.
I am a junior, so last semester I began having to think about what I would do for my senior project. I read a few plays I hadn't read before, including A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen, but still wasn't sure what I would do. I decided to propose Almost, Maine by John Cariani because it's currently one of my favorite plays. I had a vision for it and I decided I wanted to direct. Around the same time, in my Scriptwriting class (not too long after the semester started), we read a monodrama (a play with only one character) called My Name is Rachel Corrie by Alan Rickman and Katharine Viner. Some of my friends had talked about the possibility of doing a one-man or one-woman show for their senior project but I never thought it was for me. I like working in collaboration with people, and especially when acting. I REact. But there was something about this script. I dreamed about it. I thought about it in my spare time. It got under my skin. I talked about it with several people and eventually decided that I was going to try to do it as a senior project somehow.
I'll give you the synopsis the publishing company wrote. From Dramatists.com:
"On March 16, 2003, Rachel Corrie, a twenty-three-year-old American, was crushed to death by an Israeli Army bulldozer in Gaza as she was trying to prevent the demolition of a Palestinian home. MY NAME IS RACHEL CORRIE is a one-woman play composed from Rachel's own journals, letters and emails—creating a portrait of a messy, articulate, Salvador Dali–loving chain-smoker (with a passion for the music of Pat Benatar), who left her home and school in Olympia, Washington, to work as an activist in the heart of Israeli-Palestinian conflict. In the three sold-out London runs since its Royal Court premiere, the piece has been surrounded by both controversy and impassioned proponents, and has raised an unprecedented call to support political work and the difficult discourse it creates."
I decided not to try to present it as a part of our season. Instead, I emailed several professors and asked if they would be open to meet with me about an interdisciplinary project that I had in mind. Almost all the professors I emailed agreed to meet with me. I proposed the idea to them, and got almost unanimous support. All this was before Christmas break.
I began to obsess over it a little, I'll admit. But that's sort of how I am. I'm a little obsessive-compulsive. Once I start in on something, if I get excited or passionate about it, I'm dead set on it and it's one of the only things I can talk about. That started getting on some people's nerves last semester. Particularly the nerves of some seniors whose senior projects are happening this year and felt that I was making too big a deal about it too soon. There was some drama with that. I got burned. And I learned from it. I backed off.
When this semester started, I set up meetings with the professors that had agreed right away, and set up meetings with a couple of new ones. I wanted to make sure that the ones I had talked to were still on board and still willing to do this. They were. Almost all of the professors that I've introduced Rachel Corrie to have been willing and even excited about incorporating it into their classes. After summarizing the story for them and talking them through the implications of the play, I gave them copies of the script and let them all read it. Almost all immediately agreed to use the piece and asked how they could help. They saw merit in the story and in the kinds of discussions and learning outcomes that could result.
Figuring out what to do about a venue may be one of the biggest challenges I face in this project. I may not have access to the Black Box (which would be ideal for this particular script). If I don't, I need to figure out where these audiences will be able to see the play. I was advised to maybe try talking to a church or two and seeing if I could borrow some space to show the play. So, of course, my first instinct was to go to my own church and my own pastor. I knew I might meet some hesitancy from him going into it.
I met with my pastor before Christmas break. We were going to meet again a second time before Christmas break, but it didn't end up working out, so we met again after break. We met again the first week of school - Friday, January 13 at 3:00 p.m. The meeting, which I didn't anticipate lasting an hour, lasted for two. He told me that, firstly, I would not be able to use the church. At our first meeting I had summarized the story and explained what I would like to do with the play. He told me that he would approach the board with it and see if they thought it would be all right for me to use the church for my project. At this second meeting he told me that he had not even bothered to go to the board with it because he knew the answer to the question without approaching them with it. It was a flat out "no." Which was fine. I honestly wasn't counting on having the church space anyway because I knew it could go either way. I knew he might be in favor of it but I also knew that he might not like the idea of supporting it. He for sure did not like the idea of supporting it.
He told me that he was "disturbed" by the fact that I wanted to perform this play. He said something about trying to envision me up on a stage performing the script and he didn't like the image. When I asked what he had the biggest problem with in the script, his answer was language. He didn't necessarily like the politics represented in the story, but a story is a story and he wasn't immensely bothered by the story that the script told. He was, however, bothered by how it was told. The script has 23 instances of vulgar language. If it was a movie, it would be rated "R" by the MPAA because there is more than one f-word. Branching out from the script specifically, we moved on to have a discussion about art and faith--a discussion which, apparently, no one had ever had with him. Or at least not in the way that I discussed it with him. And definitely not a theatre art and faith discussion.
He questioned me about my boundaries as a Christian and as a performer. I explained how I determined them and he didn't sound satisfied. I think he walked away from the meeting feeling like I was a liberal, profane relativist who does not make choices characteristic of a pure and holy life.
Maybe I am.
I think he wanted me to show him exactly where I draw my lines and boundaries. I think he wanted to see me draw a black and white picture of the world and of my choices. I think he would have been content if I had said, "As a Christian performer, in order to live out my faith, I have decided that I will never say [insert list of certain vulgar words here], behave sexually, or reveal any part of my body immodestly on stage." I cannot say any of those things. I told him that my standards - my lines and boundaries - lie within the story I am helping to tell. Is this meaningful? Is this worth telling? Does this story need to be told? If it does, I will do what I need to in order to help tell it. He then said, "What happens when you go on stage? Do your morals just go out the window? What happens to God's Word? Do you just ignore it for the time you're on stage?" I tried my absolute hardest to explain in my words the difference between character and actor. Would I choose to turn down a role because of the things that I believe, the faith that I have chosen, and the person I try to emulate? Perhaps. But the lines I've drawn are not in places he's comfortable with.
I left the meeting a little frustrated, but hoping that I had somehow made some sense. That, perhaps, even though he disagreed with me, he could see where I was coming from.
I was wrong.
This past week, directly after flying in from New York City that day, I was at our Communication faculty showing of The Glass Menagerie. My professor pulled me aside and said he had something to talk to me about. He asked me what I felt I was obligated to do with regard to my senior project and I told him that I knew that 1) I was required to do a senior project and 2) that I had to do something relating to a theatrical venture of some kind. Then he proceeded to tell me this:
My pastor had gone to the Provost of the university voicing concern that I was being forced to do this project and claiming that, after having read the script, he was of the opinion that no student at the university should be required to read, much less produce the play.
Unfortunately I'd just come from a long weekend full of traveling and auditions, and I was so exhausted and drained that I started to cry right there without warning. I was angry and frustrated.
First of all, no one at any time has required me to produce Rachel Corrie. True, I am required to do a senior project in order to graduate. My senior project could consist of anything as long as it is approved by my content adviser. I chose Rachel Corrie. I read the script, it grabbed a hold of me, and I chose it because I want to tell the story. No one is forcing me into this in any way. I may have, at some point in our conversation, said the words "I HAVE to do this," but with an entirely different connotation. I WANT to do it. I wouldn't be happy with myself if I didn't do it. I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that the story needs to be told.
Secondly, I feel betrayed. I don't recall, in the course of our conversation, my pastor ever saying anything about going to the leadership of the school (certainly not the Provost). I believe I mentioned BOTH of my professors' names several times in the conversation as my mentors and my advisers in this process. I would have understood if he had gone to one of them initially and, potentially, after that, going higher up. But we had no warning.
Thirdly, it boggles my mind that he does not even think that the play should be read here. I don't understand that at all. I can understand the university not feeling comfortable producing it publicly here under the IWU "stamp," if you will. It's unfortunate, but I understand and I see that. That's why I decided to go to professors individually. But not even to read it? Because of language content? Really? Like I said. I don't understand. He must not know a whole lot of English and Writing majors. And apparently he only knows one (maybe two) Theatre majors.
We come back to the story. The story, as I see it (and apparently as eight different professors see it), has enough redemptive value to merit its reading/showing/viewing, regardless of the language. The story needs to be told and needs to be heard.
I am simply at a loss. Here I am, a junior in college, struggling daily with faith and art. It is a false dichotomy - of that much I have become certain. My God is big enough that I need not worry about choosing one or the other. They can and should go hand in hand. I have felt God's blessing on my decision to pursue a career in the theatre. I am in open daily conversation with him as well as with my friends and mentors about the tensions between my calling and my faith/faith community. This is not a subject I take lightly. I want to live in such a way that God smiles, but also in a way that maybe causes those around me to stop and think.
As a friend of mine put it (he told me not to use his words unless I own them for myself and, trust me, I do), I feel as though I'm out here on a limb and I turned around and watched someone I wanted to be able to trust saw it off behind me.
The events of the past month or two have been... interesting. Let me start by telling you about senior projects.
The IWU Comm department has a Media Communication major, Public Relations major, Journalism major, Communication Studies major, and a Theatre major that all fall under the umbrella of Communication. Every Communication major at IWU has to do a senior project in order to graduate. The student, perhaps with the help of a professor or adviser, comes up with an idea for his or her senior project and writes a proposal that is then approved by his or her adviser. Theatre majors do this too, but their process is actually slightly more complicated. Because Theatre majors most often choose to work in some capacity on a play within the IWU Theatre Guild season, soon-to-be senior Theatre majors have a hand in choosing the upcoming year's season of shows. Each show that the Theatre Guild presents as a part of their season has to go through the additional process of being approved by the Theatre Advisory Board. The TAB provides us with accountability and also with legitimacy. They help us decide whether or not the shows we do are suitable for our audiences and they also back us up on the decisions that we do make.
I am a junior, so last semester I began having to think about what I would do for my senior project. I read a few plays I hadn't read before, including A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen, but still wasn't sure what I would do. I decided to propose Almost, Maine by John Cariani because it's currently one of my favorite plays. I had a vision for it and I decided I wanted to direct. Around the same time, in my Scriptwriting class (not too long after the semester started), we read a monodrama (a play with only one character) called My Name is Rachel Corrie by Alan Rickman and Katharine Viner. Some of my friends had talked about the possibility of doing a one-man or one-woman show for their senior project but I never thought it was for me. I like working in collaboration with people, and especially when acting. I REact. But there was something about this script. I dreamed about it. I thought about it in my spare time. It got under my skin. I talked about it with several people and eventually decided that I was going to try to do it as a senior project somehow.
I'll give you the synopsis the publishing company wrote. From Dramatists.com:
"On March 16, 2003, Rachel Corrie, a twenty-three-year-old American, was crushed to death by an Israeli Army bulldozer in Gaza as she was trying to prevent the demolition of a Palestinian home. MY NAME IS RACHEL CORRIE is a one-woman play composed from Rachel's own journals, letters and emails—creating a portrait of a messy, articulate, Salvador Dali–loving chain-smoker (with a passion for the music of Pat Benatar), who left her home and school in Olympia, Washington, to work as an activist in the heart of Israeli-Palestinian conflict. In the three sold-out London runs since its Royal Court premiere, the piece has been surrounded by both controversy and impassioned proponents, and has raised an unprecedented call to support political work and the difficult discourse it creates."
I decided not to try to present it as a part of our season. Instead, I emailed several professors and asked if they would be open to meet with me about an interdisciplinary project that I had in mind. Almost all the professors I emailed agreed to meet with me. I proposed the idea to them, and got almost unanimous support. All this was before Christmas break.
I began to obsess over it a little, I'll admit. But that's sort of how I am. I'm a little obsessive-compulsive. Once I start in on something, if I get excited or passionate about it, I'm dead set on it and it's one of the only things I can talk about. That started getting on some people's nerves last semester. Particularly the nerves of some seniors whose senior projects are happening this year and felt that I was making too big a deal about it too soon. There was some drama with that. I got burned. And I learned from it. I backed off.
When this semester started, I set up meetings with the professors that had agreed right away, and set up meetings with a couple of new ones. I wanted to make sure that the ones I had talked to were still on board and still willing to do this. They were. Almost all of the professors that I've introduced Rachel Corrie to have been willing and even excited about incorporating it into their classes. After summarizing the story for them and talking them through the implications of the play, I gave them copies of the script and let them all read it. Almost all immediately agreed to use the piece and asked how they could help. They saw merit in the story and in the kinds of discussions and learning outcomes that could result.
Figuring out what to do about a venue may be one of the biggest challenges I face in this project. I may not have access to the Black Box (which would be ideal for this particular script). If I don't, I need to figure out where these audiences will be able to see the play. I was advised to maybe try talking to a church or two and seeing if I could borrow some space to show the play. So, of course, my first instinct was to go to my own church and my own pastor. I knew I might meet some hesitancy from him going into it.
I met with my pastor before Christmas break. We were going to meet again a second time before Christmas break, but it didn't end up working out, so we met again after break. We met again the first week of school - Friday, January 13 at 3:00 p.m. The meeting, which I didn't anticipate lasting an hour, lasted for two. He told me that, firstly, I would not be able to use the church. At our first meeting I had summarized the story and explained what I would like to do with the play. He told me that he would approach the board with it and see if they thought it would be all right for me to use the church for my project. At this second meeting he told me that he had not even bothered to go to the board with it because he knew the answer to the question without approaching them with it. It was a flat out "no." Which was fine. I honestly wasn't counting on having the church space anyway because I knew it could go either way. I knew he might be in favor of it but I also knew that he might not like the idea of supporting it. He for sure did not like the idea of supporting it.
He told me that he was "disturbed" by the fact that I wanted to perform this play. He said something about trying to envision me up on a stage performing the script and he didn't like the image. When I asked what he had the biggest problem with in the script, his answer was language. He didn't necessarily like the politics represented in the story, but a story is a story and he wasn't immensely bothered by the story that the script told. He was, however, bothered by how it was told. The script has 23 instances of vulgar language. If it was a movie, it would be rated "R" by the MPAA because there is more than one f-word. Branching out from the script specifically, we moved on to have a discussion about art and faith--a discussion which, apparently, no one had ever had with him. Or at least not in the way that I discussed it with him. And definitely not a theatre art and faith discussion.
He questioned me about my boundaries as a Christian and as a performer. I explained how I determined them and he didn't sound satisfied. I think he walked away from the meeting feeling like I was a liberal, profane relativist who does not make choices characteristic of a pure and holy life.
Maybe I am.
I think he wanted me to show him exactly where I draw my lines and boundaries. I think he wanted to see me draw a black and white picture of the world and of my choices. I think he would have been content if I had said, "As a Christian performer, in order to live out my faith, I have decided that I will never say [insert list of certain vulgar words here], behave sexually, or reveal any part of my body immodestly on stage." I cannot say any of those things. I told him that my standards - my lines and boundaries - lie within the story I am helping to tell. Is this meaningful? Is this worth telling? Does this story need to be told? If it does, I will do what I need to in order to help tell it. He then said, "What happens when you go on stage? Do your morals just go out the window? What happens to God's Word? Do you just ignore it for the time you're on stage?" I tried my absolute hardest to explain in my words the difference between character and actor. Would I choose to turn down a role because of the things that I believe, the faith that I have chosen, and the person I try to emulate? Perhaps. But the lines I've drawn are not in places he's comfortable with.
I left the meeting a little frustrated, but hoping that I had somehow made some sense. That, perhaps, even though he disagreed with me, he could see where I was coming from.
I was wrong.
This past week, directly after flying in from New York City that day, I was at our Communication faculty showing of The Glass Menagerie. My professor pulled me aside and said he had something to talk to me about. He asked me what I felt I was obligated to do with regard to my senior project and I told him that I knew that 1) I was required to do a senior project and 2) that I had to do something relating to a theatrical venture of some kind. Then he proceeded to tell me this:
My pastor had gone to the Provost of the university voicing concern that I was being forced to do this project and claiming that, after having read the script, he was of the opinion that no student at the university should be required to read, much less produce the play.
Unfortunately I'd just come from a long weekend full of traveling and auditions, and I was so exhausted and drained that I started to cry right there without warning. I was angry and frustrated.
First of all, no one at any time has required me to produce Rachel Corrie. True, I am required to do a senior project in order to graduate. My senior project could consist of anything as long as it is approved by my content adviser. I chose Rachel Corrie. I read the script, it grabbed a hold of me, and I chose it because I want to tell the story. No one is forcing me into this in any way. I may have, at some point in our conversation, said the words "I HAVE to do this," but with an entirely different connotation. I WANT to do it. I wouldn't be happy with myself if I didn't do it. I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that the story needs to be told.
Secondly, I feel betrayed. I don't recall, in the course of our conversation, my pastor ever saying anything about going to the leadership of the school (certainly not the Provost). I believe I mentioned BOTH of my professors' names several times in the conversation as my mentors and my advisers in this process. I would have understood if he had gone to one of them initially and, potentially, after that, going higher up. But we had no warning.
Thirdly, it boggles my mind that he does not even think that the play should be read here. I don't understand that at all. I can understand the university not feeling comfortable producing it publicly here under the IWU "stamp," if you will. It's unfortunate, but I understand and I see that. That's why I decided to go to professors individually. But not even to read it? Because of language content? Really? Like I said. I don't understand. He must not know a whole lot of English and Writing majors. And apparently he only knows one (maybe two) Theatre majors.
We come back to the story. The story, as I see it (and apparently as eight different professors see it), has enough redemptive value to merit its reading/showing/viewing, regardless of the language. The story needs to be told and needs to be heard.
I am simply at a loss. Here I am, a junior in college, struggling daily with faith and art. It is a false dichotomy - of that much I have become certain. My God is big enough that I need not worry about choosing one or the other. They can and should go hand in hand. I have felt God's blessing on my decision to pursue a career in the theatre. I am in open daily conversation with him as well as with my friends and mentors about the tensions between my calling and my faith/faith community. This is not a subject I take lightly. I want to live in such a way that God smiles, but also in a way that maybe causes those around me to stop and think.
As a friend of mine put it (he told me not to use his words unless I own them for myself and, trust me, I do), I feel as though I'm out here on a limb and I turned around and watched someone I wanted to be able to trust saw it off behind me.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Value?
My apologies, I didn't start out with the intention for this to be a shameless plug, but there you go.
There's something bothering me.
The play centers on the story of Bill and Madeline and their struggle for closure in the wake of their son's death on Pan Am flight 103. The women of the town of Lockerbie, Scotland for which the play is named set out with a mission: to obtain the 11,000 articles of clothing recovered from the plane wreckage which the American government has held in containment for seven years. They want to wash them and return them to the families of the dead. The women know that for some (like Bill and Madeline), this act will provide the families with closure and the strength to move on.
Connected with the play as a sort of publicity venture, other universities that have produced The Women of Lockerbie have participated in clothing drives to collect 11,000 articles of clothing to give to missions, homeless shelters, etc. It's a wonderful idea that gets the community involved for a good cause, and at the same time provides an advertising platform for the show. What could be better?
Indiana Wesleyan has done many clothing drives in the past that have been run by different organizations on campus. The Theatre Guild is an organization.
The clothing collected in these other drives has been collected and donated to a good cause or organization such as the Grant County Rescue Mission and other charitable organizations to provide clothing for the homeless or financially distressed. That is exactly what our clothing drive would do.
Other causes and organizations are allowed to make announcements for their food and clothing drives in our chapel sessions at Indiana Wesleyan. We were told we were not allowed to announce our clothing drive in chapel and that we were only allowed to make a slide to run in the slideshow that runs before chapel starts.
Why?
That is a good question.
We were initially told that the only announcements allowed to be made in chapel were announcements for events connected with the Dean of the Chapel's office or the weekly theme of chapel such as Love Revolution, etc. If this were true I would be more than understanding. But that is not true.
Announcements for sporting events have been made in chapel.
And last week, an announcement for FNL (of all things) was made in chapel.
To quote a wonderfully sarcastic friend of mine, "Makes sense that tickling our funny bones would merit attention over a clothing drive."
This is just one of the many things that is depriving me of my sanity and patience this week. Would someone be so kind as to explain to me why we are not allowed to announce our clothing drive in chapel? I would be ever so obliged.
Dichotomy?
I may get in trouble for what I'm about to write about. Or perhaps frowned upon.
But it drives me NUTS!
I'm taking a College Algebra class this semester. I needed a math credit, but I didn't want to take Basic Math or Sample Survey because everyone takes them and they didn't sound like any fun at all. I took up through AP Calculus in high school and, when I got there, I realized that algebra wasn't really bad at all. I even liked it. So I figured, College Algebra. Why not? It'll probably be, what? Algebra II all over again? Sweet. I can deal with that. Nope. It actually turns out it's Pre-Calculus all over again. Which is fine - I took Pre-Cal my junior year of high school and got an A. But it's... well... it's been a while and I wasn't originally planning on having to think that hard about math this semester. Not that it's been hard. It's actually been very easy. The worst grade I've gotten on homework so far has been a 9.5 out of 10 and I got a 90 on the first test. But we have homework every day of class and it usually takes me anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and a half.
My professor is an adjunct. She's nice enough, and from what she's said in class she's had math classes up through Master's level.
My problems with the class:
Firstly, (and this isn't a huge deal):
Almost every day in class, when working problems on the board, she'll confuse herself and make math errors. I realize that not everyone's perfect, and that it's very easy to make little math mistakes, but when it happens consistently, at LEAST once every day if not more, it just gets frustrating. Fortunately, I'm usually watching closely and realize where she makes the mistakes and can write my notes correctly, but I know there are other students in the class who have trouble following her.
Secondly (and this is what really bothers me):
We spend (okay, I'll go ahead and use the stronger word - waste) fifteen minutes at the beginning of every class period having a devotional that has absolutely nothing to do with the lesson, nor does it help prepare us for the lesson. AND, when we get to the end of the lesson, more often than not, she will have to rush through the rest of the notes she needs to give us because there's not enough time left to cover everything, she gets flustered, and makes more math errors than ever. I just really don't see how this is helpful.
Okay, okay, I can hear your objections in my head. "You go to a Christian university, of COURSE you should have a devotional before class." "Waste? Are you even a Christian?"
Yes. I am. But gimme a second.
There's something called the "integration of faith and learning" which is a focus of many Christian institutions of higher education, IWU included. It basically means that a student's worldview and faith should be deeply tied into the student's learning experience or, perhaps, exercised within that learning experience in some way.
This puts a lot of pressure of professors. If they don't satisfactorily tie faith and learning together in their classes, it is reflected badly in their reviews at the end of the semester. Instructors must profess Christian faith in order to be hired at IWU.
So, I mean, on one level, I understand. In order to do well in her reviews and remain a professor at IWU, she might feel she has to do this. But at the same time, I hardly feel that this is integration.
The Dictionary.com definition of "integration" is
To me, rather than integration, the devotional before class creates a dichotomy. First we have spiritual things, then we move on to secular things like math. Classes. College. Learning. They don't all go together into one category. We separate them.
But that's not the part that bothers me the most. No. The part that bothers me the most is how we get extra credit for the class. It's a math class, so you'd think that in order to get extra credit, we would do something like correct the mistakes on tests or homework assignments, do extra math problems, do something to actually practice the things we're learning in math. Right? No. To get extra credit, she told us that we can lead one of the devotionals before class. She gave us the length it needed to be (5 minutes) and some subjects it might be nice if we led a devotional about.
Am I the only Christian on this planet who thinks something about that isn't quite right?
Please let me know. I'm curious.
But it drives me NUTS!
I'm taking a College Algebra class this semester. I needed a math credit, but I didn't want to take Basic Math or Sample Survey because everyone takes them and they didn't sound like any fun at all. I took up through AP Calculus in high school and, when I got there, I realized that algebra wasn't really bad at all. I even liked it. So I figured, College Algebra. Why not? It'll probably be, what? Algebra II all over again? Sweet. I can deal with that. Nope. It actually turns out it's Pre-Calculus all over again. Which is fine - I took Pre-Cal my junior year of high school and got an A. But it's... well... it's been a while and I wasn't originally planning on having to think that hard about math this semester. Not that it's been hard. It's actually been very easy. The worst grade I've gotten on homework so far has been a 9.5 out of 10 and I got a 90 on the first test. But we have homework every day of class and it usually takes me anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and a half.
My professor is an adjunct. She's nice enough, and from what she's said in class she's had math classes up through Master's level.
My problems with the class:
Firstly, (and this isn't a huge deal):
Almost every day in class, when working problems on the board, she'll confuse herself and make math errors. I realize that not everyone's perfect, and that it's very easy to make little math mistakes, but when it happens consistently, at LEAST once every day if not more, it just gets frustrating. Fortunately, I'm usually watching closely and realize where she makes the mistakes and can write my notes correctly, but I know there are other students in the class who have trouble following her.
Secondly (and this is what really bothers me):
We spend (okay, I'll go ahead and use the stronger word - waste) fifteen minutes at the beginning of every class period having a devotional that has absolutely nothing to do with the lesson, nor does it help prepare us for the lesson. AND, when we get to the end of the lesson, more often than not, she will have to rush through the rest of the notes she needs to give us because there's not enough time left to cover everything, she gets flustered, and makes more math errors than ever. I just really don't see how this is helpful.
Okay, okay, I can hear your objections in my head. "You go to a Christian university, of COURSE you should have a devotional before class." "Waste? Are you even a Christian?"
Yes. I am. But gimme a second.
There's something called the "integration of faith and learning" which is a focus of many Christian institutions of higher education, IWU included. It basically means that a student's worldview and faith should be deeply tied into the student's learning experience or, perhaps, exercised within that learning experience in some way.
This puts a lot of pressure of professors. If they don't satisfactorily tie faith and learning together in their classes, it is reflected badly in their reviews at the end of the semester. Instructors must profess Christian faith in order to be hired at IWU.
So, I mean, on one level, I understand. In order to do well in her reviews and remain a professor at IWU, she might feel she has to do this. But at the same time, I hardly feel that this is integration.
The Dictionary.com definition of "integration" is
verb (used with object)
1.
to bring together or incorporate (parts) into a whole.
To me, rather than integration, the devotional before class creates a dichotomy. First we have spiritual things, then we move on to secular things like math. Classes. College. Learning. They don't all go together into one category. We separate them.
But that's not the part that bothers me the most. No. The part that bothers me the most is how we get extra credit for the class. It's a math class, so you'd think that in order to get extra credit, we would do something like correct the mistakes on tests or homework assignments, do extra math problems, do something to actually practice the things we're learning in math. Right? No. To get extra credit, she told us that we can lead one of the devotionals before class. She gave us the length it needed to be (5 minutes) and some subjects it might be nice if we led a devotional about.
Am I the only Christian on this planet who thinks something about that isn't quite right?
Please let me know. I'm curious.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Red-and-Pink
"Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same." -Helen Keller
In the light of the red-and-pink season we're in: my thoughts on romance. Currently, anyway.
Let's see. It's been... oh... four or five years since I had a Valentine. 2007 definitely. 2008 technically, although we had been on different continents for months and broke it off a month later, so I don't even know if that counts.
I generally try to avoid the topic of romance. I don't like to think about it, I don't like to talk about it, I don't like to dwell on it. And when it comes to how I see marriage right now, Cathy Hyatt (The Last Five Years) probably comes as close as anyone:
I will not be the girl in the sensible shoes
Pushing burgers and beer nuts and missing the clues
I will not be the girl stuck at home in the 'burbs
With the baby, the dog, and the garden of herbs
I will not be the girl who gets asked how it feels
To be trotting along at the the genius's heels
I will not be the girl who requires a man to get by
Yep. That about sums it up.
I'm watching The Young Victoria at the moment and, one of the first times Prince Albert comes to see Victoria, they're playing chess. Victoria tells Albert that she feels like a chess piece every day as her mother, her regent, and her uncles drag her from square to square. He advises her to learn the rules of the game so well that she can play better than any of them. She raises an eyebrow and asks, "You don't recommend I find a husband to play it for me?" Prince Albert answers, "I should find one to play it with you, not for you."
Or, I sometimes wonder if I'll end up like Heidi. When I read The Heidi Chronicles, I saw myself very much in her. I liked the play a great deal. Heidi falls in love with a guy named Scoop who eventually becomes her best friend. He marries several times and has a slew of affairs. There's a time when she's also interested in Peter, another of her best friends who becomes a pediatrician and who we actually find out is gay a little later on in the play. The play starts when Heidi is in high school in the 60s and follows her through 20 years or so. She becomes an active feminist in the 70s and has a successful career as an art historian. The play ends with Heidi rocking to sleep the baby girl she's just adopted on her own. It was just funny because, as I read the play, it was almost like you could have covered up Heidi's next line, asked me what I would say, and that turned out to be what Wendy Wasserstein had written.
I keep referring to bits of movies and plays and stories. And I suppose it won't be anything like a movie or a play or a story of any kind. I think I often expect pieces of life to be like something I've seen or read and, not surprisingly, it never is.
In the light of the red-and-pink season we're in: my thoughts on romance. Currently, anyway.
Let's see. It's been... oh... four or five years since I had a Valentine. 2007 definitely. 2008 technically, although we had been on different continents for months and broke it off a month later, so I don't even know if that counts.
I generally try to avoid the topic of romance. I don't like to think about it, I don't like to talk about it, I don't like to dwell on it. And when it comes to how I see marriage right now, Cathy Hyatt (The Last Five Years) probably comes as close as anyone:
I will not be the girl in the sensible shoes
Pushing burgers and beer nuts and missing the clues
I will not be the girl stuck at home in the 'burbs
With the baby, the dog, and the garden of herbs
I will not be the girl who gets asked how it feels
To be trotting along at the the genius's heels
I will not be the girl who requires a man to get by
Yep. That about sums it up.
I'm watching The Young Victoria at the moment and, one of the first times Prince Albert comes to see Victoria, they're playing chess. Victoria tells Albert that she feels like a chess piece every day as her mother, her regent, and her uncles drag her from square to square. He advises her to learn the rules of the game so well that she can play better than any of them. She raises an eyebrow and asks, "You don't recommend I find a husband to play it for me?" Prince Albert answers, "I should find one to play it with you, not for you."
Or, I sometimes wonder if I'll end up like Heidi. When I read The Heidi Chronicles, I saw myself very much in her. I liked the play a great deal. Heidi falls in love with a guy named Scoop who eventually becomes her best friend. He marries several times and has a slew of affairs. There's a time when she's also interested in Peter, another of her best friends who becomes a pediatrician and who we actually find out is gay a little later on in the play. The play starts when Heidi is in high school in the 60s and follows her through 20 years or so. She becomes an active feminist in the 70s and has a successful career as an art historian. The play ends with Heidi rocking to sleep the baby girl she's just adopted on her own. It was just funny because, as I read the play, it was almost like you could have covered up Heidi's next line, asked me what I would say, and that turned out to be what Wendy Wasserstein had written.
I keep referring to bits of movies and plays and stories. And I suppose it won't be anything like a movie or a play or a story of any kind. I think I often expect pieces of life to be like something I've seen or read and, not surprisingly, it never is.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
I stay up too late. And am addicted to this.
The following is a discussion board post I just wrote for my Shakespeare class. We're reading Henry IV Part 1. It probably won't sound half as intelligent to me in the morning as it does right now:
Falstaff's speech in Act V Scene 1 intrigues me. I marvel at Shakespeare more and more. As a Communication major, we study the concept of socially constructed reality as well as semiotics (touching on some linguistics) - how and why words and symbols have come to mean what they mean. Whether or not there were names for any of these concepts then, Shakespeare knew them all. In Romeo and Juliet, the famous "That which we call a rose / By any other word would smell as sweet" makes it plainly obvious that Shakespeare knew that language was arbitrary, which was probably not a popular belief when he was alive. If I'm not mistaken, the religious and traditional overtones of Elizabethan society meant that most people believed that language was inspired - that we call a rose a "rose" because there is something inherently in that specific flower which made it a "rose" and not a "lily." How forward-thinking of him to have the character of Juliet shatter this perception and clue Elizabethans in to the fact that language is arbitrary. Likewise, as I read Falstaff's speech, I clearly saw Shakespeare toying with the sociological concept of social constructionism. I honestly wonder how many other people in Shakespeare's time could have seen that "honor" as they understood it does not have one absolute definition. Honor, to some extent, has similarities between many cultures, but not all cultures hold the same definition. Falstaff examines the notion of "honor" and all of its socially constructed value, coming to the conclusion that it is, in fact, useless. He decides this because, by the culture's definition, you don't have it until you're dead. Then you can't enjoy it or benefit from it because you're dead, but it won't live on in the minds of the living either because slander will remove the last shred of it from your name, meaning that it's really just a word to throw around and make people feel better about themselves. A useless decoration. A hood ornament. I would venture to say that to most Elizabethans, honor was everything. Case in point: the wedding catastrophe in Much Ado About Nothing. Even today, we still have a notion of "honor." So is it just an empty word? Or is there something to it? Shakespeare, you are such a tricky little sneak.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
In Other News!
I gave blood for the first time yesterday. They warn you about lightheaded-ness, and the possibly feeling queasy thing, but they don't say anything on their little pamphlets about being FREEZING afterwards.
Also! Shane Claiborne spoke at chapel at IWU today. Loved it. There are some people in this world who, when they speak, make want to jump up on a chair and channel Charlie Brown:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=b8SDztycKwY#t=53s
I discovered today: Shane Claiborne is definitely one of them!
If you want to listen to his talk, you can do that here.
Also! Shane Claiborne spoke at chapel at IWU today. Loved it. There are some people in this world who, when they speak, make want to jump up on a chair and channel Charlie Brown:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=b8SDztycKwY#t=53s
I discovered today: Shane Claiborne is definitely one of them!
If you want to listen to his talk, you can do that here.
Umbrella-less.
Those who know me know that I can get extremely passionate every once in a while. I didn't realize this about myself until I got to college. I've changed a lot in college.
"Some of you know I'm the Communication Division Academic Representative for SGA. Some of you also know that last semester, I started pushing for the IWU media policy to be changed because I think it's censorship and it's unjust to deprive college students of the learning experiences that can be found in movies that happen to be rated R. One of my suggestions when trying to push this issue was that we as students and professors watch more movies in community and get together to discuss what we've seen and understood. CinemaCom IS that. A film colloquium is what learning and discussion using media should look like. Regardless of whether or not you're passionate about film specifically, THIS is what we're here for."
I'm not sure where my personality is on the spectrum of "Laid-back" to "Extremely Intense." The more I think about it, the more I think I fluctuate between the two. I always used to think of myself as a very laid-back, easygoing person. I went with the flow and didn't get uptight about very many things. I wasn't a wallflower but I wasn't the kid standing up on the lunch table making a scene either. When I moved to the States, I had something of a personality shift. I became the wallflower. I didn't want anyone to notice me for fear of... well. For fear of lots of silly things. I became more confident during my senior year, but I still would rather have blended into the wallpaper than draw excessive attention to myself.
As I go through college I seem to be changing even a little more. I will never draw unnecessary attention to myself. I still have an irrational fear of talking to people I don't know (which is something of a problem, considering my career choice). But if you know me, and especially if you know me well, you may have seen me get passionate or intense about something.
I'm passionate about my faith. About theatre. About faith and art and how they intertwine. About telling stories. About relationships. See? Over half those things I've only just discovered in college.
So. In the theme of storytelling, and also in the theme of faith and art, read on.
Among the things I'm involved in, I'm the Academic Representative for the Division of Communication in the IWU Student Government Association (SGA). Basically, I act as a liaison between people in my division and student government. Last semester, during one of the assembly meetings, we discussed IWU's media policy.
Now, every student at IWU signs a contract before coming to the school by which they agree to live by certain rules and standards. These include abstaining from alcohol, tobacco, sexual activity, (dancing, back when I signed it - since removed), etc. One of the things on the "abstain from" list is R rated movies. So everyone knows this about IWU's media policy, but I realized that I had never actually read the entire policy. I turned to the handy dandy student handbook (last PDF file on the page) and investigated. And was not any less bothered by the policy after having read it.
If you're curious about my response to it, I wrote a letter to the editor about it that was printed in the Sojourn in November. You can read it here.
If you don't want to read the whole letter, suffice it to say that I do not believe there should be any such thing as an R rated movie policy. So, leaning on SGA as a source of legitimacy, I started meeting with people and trying to do something to bring about some change.
In the letter I wrote, one of my suggestions is that we, as professors and students on this campus, watch more movies together in community and have discussions on them. This community is a safe place. Students are surrounded by professors and mentors whose sincerest wish is to see us grow both in our knowledge and in our faith. Here we are surrounded by people who truly care. There's a "safety net." This will probably not be the case for most people after leaving IWU. We're going to graduate and go off to face life in the "real world" in a few short years, where there are no safety nets and the primary goal of everyone we meet will not be to facilitate our growth and learning.
Here is the place to confront difficult things. Now is the time to discuss things that might make us squirm a little. Here in the midst of comfort, give me the discomfort. Don't shield me from things while I'm here where I can start learning how to respond. I'll be left standing in the hail without an umbrella after I graduate.
To my delight, our Communication Division Chair started a film colloquium this semester, dubbed "CinemaCom." It's mostly for Communication majors, and we're doing just what I suggested be done - watching films in community (that may or may not be rated R) and discussing them. It takes place most Thursday nights at 9:15 in Elder Hall. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to attend every night myself, though I've tried to encourage others to go. Apparently I haven't been very successful, however, because the turnout of theatre majors has, I understand, been rather abysmal. So, today, I got passionate. I emailed all my fellow majors and said, to quote myself:
"Some of you know I'm the Communication Division Academic Representative for SGA. Some of you also know that last semester, I started pushing for the IWU media policy to be changed because I think it's censorship and it's unjust to deprive college students of the learning experiences that can be found in movies that happen to be rated R. One of my suggestions when trying to push this issue was that we as students and professors watch more movies in community and get together to discuss what we've seen and understood. CinemaCom IS that. A film colloquium is what learning and discussion using media should look like. Regardless of whether or not you're passionate about film specifically, THIS is what we're here for."
Monday, February 6, 2012
Not freaking out. Not freaking out. Not frea-- LIES.
I realized today that in exactly 2 weeks I will be in New York City auditioning.
This is how I feel about that.
This is how I feel about that.
Mostly that's because I definitely do not feel prepared. But both of my theatre professors agreed today to work with me in the next week on my audition pieces, and the professor who has been my voice coach agreed to record an accompaniment track for me. Breathing.
I also managed excused absences for two days of classes while I'm gone. Which is helpful.
I have so many things that I want or need to do! And that should be done! Unfortunately, school seems to keep getting in the way. Hmph.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Opening Monologue
So far, my only successful blogs have been ones that were for classes and were only meant to last for a short length of time. All my other attempts have kind of fallen flat. But! I'm at an interesting place in my life at the moment - I feel as though I'm learning something new every day. Or at least that there's a lot for me to think deeply about. And, as some know and make fun of me for, I have early onset Alzheimer's or something because unless I write my thoughts down I won't remember them five minutes later. So, in the somewhat unlikely event that a stroke of genius actually occurs in my brain at some point (or maybe just so that I have a record of my thoughts somewhere along down the road when I'm middle-aged and wondering what in the world 20-year-old me thought and cared about), I'm going to try to chronicle my thoughts.
A little about me. To preface these thoughts.
I grew up a missionary kid in Quito, Ecuador.
After my sophomore year of high school, I moved back to the States.
Started college with the intent to be a Secondary English Education major with perhaps a theatre minor.
Was cast in a show and it was a hopeless cause: I changed my major to theatre.
It's been something of a process for me to really begin to take myself seriously as a theatre artist. Come to think of it, it's been something of a process for me to think of myself as an artist. But over the last three years, with some helpful pokes and prods (that may or may not have left me smarting a time or two), I've begun to embrace the tension between faith and art that has become my life.
Where am I right now?
Well, I'm an aspiring professional actor. I'm trying to embrace as many possibilities and opportunities as I possibly can, and I'm trying to begin networking to help launch an acting career. This month I'm attending auditions in St. Louis, Missouri as well as auditions in New York City in the hopes of landing my first summer job as an actor. If I can manage to do that, well. We'll see where I end up.
I'm beginning work my senior project which will be a one-woman show called "My Name is Rachel Corrie." If all goes according to plan (*crosses fingers*), there's a distinct possibility that I might have a venue in Chicago to present two performances. Granted, between now and then I have $1200 to raise and a 31-page monologue to memorize, but I'm doing my best to be unashamedly optimistic.
So far, doors have kept opening in front of me. Opportunities have presented themselves and I've done my best to take each one with enthusiasm and an attempt at fearlessness. That doesn't mean that I don't have moments where I put my head in my hands and say to myself, "What the HECK do you think you're doing?" God knows I have plenty of those. But I am convinced that this is what I'm supposed to do.
Oh, I've met some resistance. There are people that question my choices and my motives. But that's a discussion for another post. Or two. Or three. Or seven. This is just the beginning. The intro. The opening monologue.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)