What if it's the thing's they didn't tell us?

Hey y'all it's me Michael. Ever since I came to Northern Arizona University I have noticed that it's all about the things that they didn't tell me. I remember my father would remind me every night until it was engraved in mind the stories of his experience in college. How evil the professors are that give no help and expect you to memorize everything. How everyone was a child prodigy that would make the geniuses seem normal. How every class would be brutally devastating. Well ok, that last one is kind of true but the rest are false entirely.

First stepping onto campus seemed like a whole new world to me. There were buildings towering everywhere and everyone was pushing big blue bins full of luggage. I moved into my current residence of Tinsley Hall where I met my two roommates, Erik and Dane. Erik is a musical prodigy but is extremely demotivated when it comes to getting up for class. Dane is a natural born scientist helping me every night to understand the infinite Calculus equations while he works on Chemistry. As for me well they call me the computer guy because of my experience with computers and I am learning to program. After that I began to meet new people at every turn. Everyone just seemed so friendly at happy to see a new face walking around.   I took it a step further though. After getting unpacked I strolled up and down my dorm wearing my hawaiian shirt, cargo pants, and an umbrella to use as a cane. Thought it was a great way to meet the neighbors and boy was it.

Using meal transfers from our meal plans we decided to find the best places to eat. Which in itself is much bigger challenge than one would think. The food was to die for at every restaurant. Unfortunately it didn't last too long as we found out from our Residence Hall Assistant or RA for short. He explained to us that after two weeks and the parents have all gone and left the food quality stinks. Unfortunately he was more than right but not on all accounts. There still are those places that are to die for but they became way more popular.

As for the professors and teacher assistants well there simply saying that they rock just isn't enough. I am enrolled in five classes this semester and not one teacher disappoints. My Calculus teacher Stephen runs and jumps from one blackboard to another every time a student asks him to give an example. My Computer Science teacher finds very clever ways to mix in programming jokes in the lectures that at times has had the class falling out of their seats. Even my Psychology teacher uses volunteers from the class to demonstrate  how certain concepts work. They are extremely eager to help a student when he/she is struggling with a concept and always remind the class when work due is coming up and any details involved.

Lastly college has taught me that the world is a small place. Within my first month I have met just about everyone else attending NAU from Holbrook! Although I do not remember their last names I remember when and where I met each person the first time. I met Bethany and Eryn while I was walking to the bookstore with my roommate Dane. We were strolling under the rain when suddenly I hear my name being called from across a small field and turn to see them both running at me screaming. I met Jordan at a restaurant called the Hot Spot. I was sitting alone at a table eating lunch before my next class and he sat down next to me saying that my hair gave it away. I met Gage when Jordan brought him over to my dorm to visit. Jordan told me he was bringing somebody from Holbrook but I had no idea it would be Gage. I met Drew outside of Calculus as I was chaining up my bike. I was fiddling with my lock and happened to look up to see him riding up to me. Each of these people gave me an absolute shock when I met them because to think of meeting this handful of people at a university with a population bigger than Holbrook.

Coming to college has shown me that what makes it is the things that they never told me. It's made up of people just as clueless as you coming here to learn. Teachers that are here to keep and hold your attention long enough to get a concept across. Friends from a town that seems worlds away. Most of all though what truly makes the college experience is the people that you meet. People from nearly every country in the world coming together. So the next time you hear one of the infinite stories about college from the old and wise. Try to take it with a grain of salt because that was back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and instead look forward to the day that you can experience it yourself. I hope Mrs. Caffey reads this because I sat down to write this thinking of her and what she taught me.

Little Faith From A Shining Star

     It's been a long time dream of mine now to become a software engineer and design a brilliant video game that will top the charts all over the world. This was originally inspired when i first decided that gaming companies were gorging themselves off the dollars of uninspired and frankly dim gamer's by making extremely small modifications to their previous games and selling them as original ones. I want to be a part of a company that actually designs new games that sell themselves rather then the name. What I never expected was being a part of helping a company start from the ground up.
     It all started when my friend Clayton came up to me one day asking if I had an interest in helping be part of a video game design company. It was all up in the air for a while until he finally brought us together and said it's time to form a company. In the beginning there were seven of us which is now slowly dwindling. We would gather in Mrs. Novell's filming studio and utilize the Smartboard four our presentations and note taking. The first issue was finding a name for ourselves before we even considered developing a game to make. After weeks of debating and trying to find a single original name out there that made sense and wasn't taken we finally pinned down Proxima Centauri. Now game production could finally begin.
     The first issue with that was trying to find out what the game would be all about. We needed to design a story and what kind of genre it would fall under. The game was long under production before we even came close to finding a name for it. Originally six of the members wanted a name for the game that I completely disagreed on and threatened to leave the team should it be chosen. After that another name came up for debate challenging the original and with me included six members moved to make it the name of the game. The only nay sayer was the person who originally thought of the first name that I completely disagreed with. After a massive feud that almost broke up the company we decided to completely trash both names and start the long search for completely different name that we could all agree on. After a couple months of working on the game and throwing out just about any name that came to mind at the weekly meetings we finally found one. The final name of thew game was unanimously voted on to be Martyr.
     What were doing just seems to make sense to people we tell about it. To be honest though all but on of our now six members think the company will really go anywhere but we keep pushing for it anyways. The best thing that we have done so far is making sure that everything we do is done right. Also when we need help we go to sources, mainly teachers, that we know have experience in these sort of matters and can offer some great advice.

The Beginning and Ending

     After what I considered a long struggle in Drama I finally made it to Thespian Induction. It was the first Monday of May and things were smoothly taking their course until Buckwalter warned us that Induction was Wednesday. So we needed to write a speech to give and invite as many people as we could. We even had to find a speaker to kick it off. I grabbed a few invites and headed on over to Peterson's to talk to him about being the speaker. it took a little group persuading but we got him to say ok. After that It was a matter of finding everyone who could go that would go.

     That night as I got home I sat down in-front of Google docs and let the words fly. After a couple hours of non-stop typing I concluded it and looked over my work. I ended up typing a three page speech detailing everything I had always wanted to say since I performed my final performance. During school the next day I realized three pages was really hogging the show. So I sat down again and began cutting out every un-needed paragraph or sentence. After massacring my speech I had managed to cut it by half. So a few quick edits and it was ready for presentation.

     Wednesday finally rolled around the corner and boy was it a long one. Since I have an eighth hour college class on Wednesday's I had to get dressed in the restroom and head on over. Everyone was excited reciting speeches as I walked in. When we weren't making last minute revisions we were finding out whats going to go down when the show starts. It was a small crowd but it was full of familiar faces. So here's how it was supposed to go down.  The lights would go up and we would walk down in pairs to the stage. We would all sit down and Buckwalter would give an introduction speech then Peterson would take the stage and give the traditional Induction speech. After that the inductee's each get up and give a speech. Then it's kind of over.

     Now the differences started with I walked down the steps first by myself. It was kind of cool like I was spear-heading things or so I like to think. Then I just couldn't sit still. It's one thing to sit in classes all day but they keep you distracted and give you changing periods to get up and stretch. During the length speeches I admit I got bored just sitting there smiling. Next apparently I kind of stole the show with my speech. As I sat back down the inductee's were nagging the next speaker asking "wow, Alicia how are you going to follow that up?" All I could do was apologize and hide my laughter.

     After that we held a small reception where everyone could eat sweets and talk about the inductee's speeches. I would have liked to stay longer and talk about the good ol' times but my family was dragging me away. So I waved goodbye and drove off staring at the small paper in my hand. I finally made it to Thespian status but now my high school acting days are over. I think I'll get this award laminated and keep it around for a while just like Mr. Peterson did. Maybe someday when I'm old and gray I can hold it and remember all the good times I had with the random characters I acted with once upon a time.

Drama from a different perspective

Ever since I was introduced to the stage I have been coming back ever since to relive the thrill of acting. There's just something about becoming someone else for a little while with other actors and putting on a show for a crowd on the edge of their seats. The best part is hearing them cheer as you take your bow. My final big performance would be Twelve Angry Jurors and boy did we kill that play. After the countless rehearsals and four successful performances I was ready to walk away from acting and never look back. I put my heart and soul into becoming Juror 3 and now it was time for a rest. Bye Bye Birdie was the follow up musical to Twelve Angry Jurors and I declined auditions still to tired from the last play to jump right another. However by the time I was ready to take on a part the musical was already on its way. I rested after my long sea bearing performance and my next ship set sail without me.

     I wasn't going to miss the performances though so I offered to usher for a couple to get me in free. An hour before show time I stroll up to the doors looking my best. I may not know how to usher but I was going to dress for the part. Two ushers were already at the stairs leading to the auditorium checking tickets so I decided to slip in and watch the crowd. Basically I just looked for people who had their hats on or feet on the seats. An easy job but I seem to be the one who is always stuck doing it. Minutes before showtime as I am beginning to sit down in a closed off section of the house Brian, the techboard worker, walks up to me and asks if I would be the one to sit up at the booth and film the play. Well I figured why not since I had experience working behind a camera and took him up on his offer. Now if i had known how long i would be sitting there staring at the screen I may have had second thoughts.

     There were four performances and I ushered for three of them. The only time I really sat down and watched the show was the second time. Watching them dance and sing on stage really took me back to the plays I have been in. I slowly began to imagine what it was like on stage during my performances and at the end pretended I was up on stage bowing with the cast. My mouth became dry and I grew anxious as I thought of the heat of the stage lights combined with the intense struggles. Watching them perform made me long to just be performing just one last time with them. I immediately began regretting turning down the offers to audition and get a part in all of this Drama. I guess what they say is true you don 't know what you got until it's gone.

Why A Teacher?

     I haven't given it much thought until recently but now that I sit down and think about it I can't understand why anybody would want to become a teacher. The pay isn't the best and the students everyday are a nightmare. I always told myself if i were to ever teach i would be teaching Seniors who have some level of maturity. What about the teachers that teach middle school and down? They must come to work everyday knowing that they get to see snotty brats that won't learn a thing. While going through a normal school day me and my friend encountered perhaps one of the most awful situations we had ever seen. It was as if the student had learned nothing his entire time in the school system. All me and Dwayne could do was face palm and smile as he just kept going on. While we were walking to our next class I pondered what could that teacher possibly get form doing this day after day. With students like this how can you go home after a long day and feel accomplished with yourself.
     The night I type this i actually for the first time ran into a teacher on XBOX Live. I explained to him the situation of what happened in class that day and asked him what keep him going. He simply told me that "you just show up and hope for the best." Which wasn't a great help in my understanding of what drives teachers to do what they do. I believe at the beginning of each year the teachers are looking for that one student in each class who is there to actually learn to draw hope from.
     Ever since I reached Freshman year I have always tried to be that one student that can balance fun in class and still keep up with the workload. As the year progresses teachers really seem to open up to the classes as well. Ironically I have had a few teachers along the line tell me I would be excellent as a teacher. When I picture standing in-front of a hopeless class lecturing all day it gives me second thoughts. I don't think I could draw enough steam from that one or two actual students to keep going.
     Maybe teachers know that every year is just a hopeless bunch but they come for that one or two actual students and just hope for the best with everyone else. Regardless they show up everyday and even though they don't have the best to work with they get by working with what they're given.

Once upon a time

Isn't it funny how memories can be triggered by the most arbitrary things? The smallest object can trigger a memory that has been gathering dust for years. Memorabilia, or things we keep around to remind us of times past, can be very nostalgic. Like when you find an old trophy you won or hear a song that you haven't heard in years. As I mentioned in class it is a joke to try and trigger these nostalgic memories in my video game design class. Mostly we try to use songs to trigger flashbacks. Say we might play a really old Legend of Zelda opening theme which has us all gasping as we flashback to a different time. Almost like time travel when you think about it. Now a flashback can be like stopping and thinking of that moment you have been taken back to or actually having to stop and relive that moment in your mind. I actually experience option two an innumerable amount of the time. I may hear a song that takes me back to my childhood and suddenly I am nine years old again watching Disney movies. Well the thing is today while I was out shopping with my father he bought me some Skull Candy earphones and what better way to test them out then on Youtube. For whatever reason the song "Once Upon a December" from "Anastasia" crossed my mind so I looked it up. Suddenly I was a child again watching the Disney movie "Anastasia" as Anya tries to remember her distant memories from the past. Thinking about my childhood as I got home I began to sift through the disgusting mess known as my closet and found my old Pinewood derby race cars. Carefully, I lifted them from their coffins and stood them next to the trophies they won. Suddenly I am an even younger child than before crossing my fingers as the gate is released and the cars scream down the track. It was the Pinewood Derby and this time I had modified my previous car's design to be sleeker and faster. I looked like a blue wedge but I was mighty proud of my creation as it trumped the competition. Now it was a fight for first between me and two other cars. I hold my breath as the cars reach the finish line. My Blue Phantom rolls into second place sending me off to state. My Blue Phantom wasn't looking good after the town competition. The wheels were sticking and popping off so I glued them in and greased them up as best I could. I remember watching helplessly as my car veered off track on a crash course. It careened with the wall and then was sent flying through the air as I stood frozen in horror. I tried to lunge forward to save my car but it was too late as it slammed on the ground with an audible crack. The Blue Phantom would never be seen on the race track again after that day. A little boy hides his shame and lets his tears fall as his father helps him walk out with what little pride he has left cradling his Blue Phantom race car. As I look back even now I can still feel that heart shattering pain buried deep down as I walked away from that competition with my my shattered dream in hand. The Blue Phantom was placed in a shoe box coffin but would never receive a proper burial. No matter how hard I try I can never get myself to get rid of these old lumps of wood. Mostly because when I look at them I don't see a child's toy but a stadium full of people with my father smiling at me from the crowd as I hold my breath watching my car. I see a small boy with a dream of designing a car that will be faster than all the others. I see a heart stricken boy carry his shattered dreams away letting the pain flow out. Things as arbitrary as a small toy from a decade ago can bring back the past to the present allowing us to relive our old memories. What feelings they evoke depends entirely on the past you may share with that item. What items can you name that not only make you think of but relive the past that you share with that item.

Parental Bonds

So growing up me and my father never really communicated. Mostly because when I went to him about my mother and brothers abuse he just brushed it off and forgot about it. So once both of those factors finally left my life I still couldn't forgive him for never being there for me. It wasn't until my Freshman year of high school that we finally started bonding as father and son. You see the thing was we had moved out of the house and into this little shack between Safeway and the school. Boy I was living large down there and things get better. No mother or bratty sisters wreaking World War 3 each day, No more walking to school or taking the bus, and whenever I wanted something it was just a short walk away. So just me and him living large with one exception. The place was a 3 room shack which meant that we both shared a bedroom and it drove me nuts. Since we spent a lot of time together like that we got to bond almost everyday. Someday's we would leave town to go see a movie or go to my favorite restaurant in town and pig out. Everyday I would come home and tell him how my day at school went. Everything seemed so hunky dory but he wasn't happy. He just wouldn't be happy living anywhere but our old home and I couldn't be happier living anywhere but our old home. Three wonderful years passed in that little shack and we were as thick as thieves. The sun began to shine on a life that had been midnight black for 13 years and I was soaking up every bit of it but it didn't matter a bit to my father. He had to have the old home back from my mother and one day finally managed to coax the deed off her hands. As fast as it had come into my life the little shack, the place I had come to call home, was leaving it as we packed up and headed for the old home again. I tried everything I could to try and cling to my new life at the little shack but my father would not be persuaded choosing his feelings over mine. So now once again I sit in this prison cell of a room with nightmarish memories for cellmates. Now for almost a full year we never bonded or spoke much to each other until Fridays game. We watched the boys basketball semi-Finals for state together with enough junk food to clog our arteries. Thing was my sisters were in the band and left to play at the game which left me and my father alone for the first time in what felt ages. Seeing what a beautiful day it was we hit the store for charcoal, all the meat we could fit in the cart, and a Puss in Boots DVD. I grilled succulent burgers, hot dogs, sausages, and steaks for four hours straight while watching the game with him. After our team lost we crashed on the couch and watched Puss in Boots. It was the first time we had bonded since we left the little shack. If only there were no daughters and it was just father and son maybe we could have had something. Instead he chooses this old home over me ignoring the bond we were building. Sometimes you just need to let things go so that new and better things can flourish in its space. I gave up his past mistakes that ruined my childhood so why couldn't he give up the house for me.