One Home to Another

Hello again,

Despite what I might have said at the end of a rushed, fantastical, and loud Senior year, I find that I cannot let up this hobby that had dominated my Monday evenings of years past. However, there are a few key differences to note that change things. First, this is no longer required, how lovely is that? Second, I am no longer a bulldog, but an Eagle, an American Eagle to be precise, the most cliche mascot of all time. Third, I'm writing this blog from one of the busiest cities in the nation in a small room waiting to go to a 5:30 class on Urban Development. In short, I have successfully transitioned to the college freshman lifestyle without too many large obstacles in the way.

Transitioning from Batavia to Washington was perhaps the most unique experience of my 18 years. Now, instead of getting into my car and driving at 7 AM in the morning, I roll out of bed and walk a few hundred yards to my first class at 8 AM three times a week, followed by a lovely period of napping. In addition I can no longer simply go to any store, I have to instead catch the metro, a terrifying, fast paced, and enormous piece of this wild thing called the Capital, to the nearest station and go to either Whole Foods, Target, or, somehow, Best Buy.

 The students here are from all around the world, and by all around the world I mean the majority come New England, California, or DC itself. Most have never heard of Batavia, Ohio, just that it is not Batavia, Illinois, and that Cincinnati is essentially the same thing as Cleveland, right? Regardless, the international diversity level is immense. People are here from all over the globe, so much so that walking to class normally involves hearing at least two other languages that are not your own. Talk about a culture shock for someone who was raised in the land of farms, small high schools, and a majorly white community.

Perhaps one of the most difficult aspects of adjusting to this new life would be the social change. No longer do I have my close knit group of essential family members to talk to at every waking moment, to make jokes about class or to make late night runs to Wendy's when the procrastination reaches new heights. Instead, it's awkward fumbling during floor meetings, five minute conversations that rarely progress into the foundations of a relationship, and a lot of alone time in a dorm room. However, it isn't completely all for not. In a true surprise I have managed to make two fairly solid friends here. One, blessedly, is my roommate, who is essentially my twin in everything except the fact that she is fantastically able to run long distances every morning at 6 AM. We get along splendidly and have yet to have any sort of conflict. Secondly is the strangest set of circumstances. One moment I am watching the eclipse with a group of strangers and the next, I have realized that the person sitting next to me during this once in a life time event shares almost all of my interests, faces most of the same challenges I do (migraines, lactose intolerance, etc),  is an equal amount of a dork, and is equally grateful to have found a friend. Somehow, I have made my quota with friends for the first few weeks. These two have helped my comfort levels immensely, and hopefully, as time goes on, we can establish a friendship akin to the very special ones I enjoyed, and miss very dearly, back in Cincinnati.

In short, the first week and half here at AU has been not terrible, but not overly exciting either. I get to wake up at 6 AM once again and be thrust into the foreign world of Russian and perhaps later I will dare to venture past campus boundaries to feed myself something that isn't the school's main dining room. I miss my Cincinnatians dearly, from the quiet peace of a rural area to the newly renovated Music Hall that has yet to stop calling my name. The knowledge that I get to see them all in just a month is enough to keep my spirits high and I can't wait to see the faces of Molly, Seth, Chloe, Ronni, Alex, and the rest of the people who somehow found themselves in my company and chose to stay long enough to become my closest friends. Until then, however, I am content to merely keep going, to enjoy life here in this vibrant, unique, and already welcoming city, and look forward to the opportunities that will be presented to me here.


Until next time.

A Bid Adieu

To the reader(s) of this hodgepodge of a blog,

True to the cliche, it can only be expected that some type of sentimental farewell is in order, as this is the last required post of a more or less ongoing assignment of the last two years. This blog has been an affectionately received normalcy in a world full of the unforeseen and surprising. An open platform for rambles, grievances, reviews, or analyses,  this idea is wholesome and well rounded, giving not only myself, but other students the opportunity to express themselves weekly in a relatively private setting, away from the often harshly judgmental eyes of their peers.

There was the fair share of show reviews, a love of the theater weaving itself through every few weeks, and the endless grumblings about the weather or stress or worse yet, the mess that is the political system. Every once in a while came a homage to tea or another small trinket that offers some type of peace while the world continues to run at full speed. The favorite, however, was something deep and literary, a look inside a favorite author, work, or movement. From Oscar Wilde to Dickens to Voltaire, the chance to write about what was deep and intriguing outside of the restrictions of a specific essay was immensely satisfying. As apprehensive as I may have been at the start, the blogs were a form of odd stress relief, an outlet for some of the ponderings that would otherwise forever be kept as simple thought.

Two years since the beginning and there is a newfound appreciation for blog posting in general, and  a hope that I will have the chance to continue the practice as I advance to new stages of life. Whether or not this blog continues to be updated remains to be seen, but it seems to be a form of stress relief to ramble on about a wide range of topics and put said thoughts in one spot. At the very least it results in an entertaining walk down memory lane if I should be feeling either particularly sentimental or extremely bored in the future. Regardless, out of the many hobbies I have tried throughout my life (as described in one of these very posts), this activity seems to be one of the easiest and most enjoyable. There is no outspoken competition or extensive length requirement that adds unwanted pressure. For the more literary based, blogging is the perfect way to keep the mind turning, fueling the passion for the finer artistic forms.

Overall, "Thoreauly Unoriginal" has been far more entertaining than I had previously expected. Giving life to new ideas and inspiring many a thought piece, the blog platform has become a comfortable mainstay in a life about to embark on great transition. Should the opportunity arise to continue the form, my hope is to be filled with much more inspiration, or at least sources for said inspiration, as I travel farther from the small town view and into a big picture that can transform into interesting writing fodder. Perhaps I will find a niche of specific topics that will interest me for years to come and I will create a platform specifically for something like poems, philosophy, or the performing arts. Or it's possible that another class at another institution will have a similar assignment and I will start the process over again with coming up with a slightly humorous title and filling the logs with posts that may or may not fit a common theme. Maybe I'll even take up a specific blog for a specific purpose, perhaps an organization or club, and actually send out a message to a targeted audience. The options are endless, the key is choosing one that fits.

Until I find this next thread of opportunity, though, I shall affectionately for the time being say au revoir with the hopes of casually writing again in the future.

Effective Communication: A Muddled Standard

It's no secret that the past few months since the inauguration of Donald Trump have been perhaps the most scandalous and widely criticized in the history of the modern Presidency. The first 100 days have thus far seem to consist more of committing every cardinal sin of the media than achieving the list of polarizing goals set out on a now infamous campaign trail. While it is true that the criticisms of President Trump could surely write more than one blog post in themselves, there is a bigger issue that fuels the flames for what is shaping up to be an administration rife with controversy. That issue is effective communication. 

When analyzing the Commander in Chief's communication strategies, one must simply take a glance at perhaps the most famous Twitter feed in the world to see this unprecedented stance on communicating Presidential opinion, stance, and action to the public. Social media has been the source for some of the more controversial moments of the Trump administration, with typos from Education secretaries, grammatical phrases that would have Webster and Shakespeare rolling over in their graves, and statements that make even the most ignorant tilt their head in confusion.

 However, while the social media platform does reach a wider range of people, in recent times it has not been where the controversy originates. Instead, the spotlight falls on Sean Spicer, who is already making a name for himself as both White House Easter Bunny and one of the most notorious Press Secretaries in US History. From "alternative facts" to "Holocaust centers" there are few press conferences that have so far gone off without at least one statement being used against him and the reflection of the Trump administration that he represents. 

One could go on about the bigotry, the intellectual inadequacies that Spicer exerts, raging over the completely unpardonable butchering of significant world tragedy and lamenting over the lack of fluid, well crafted speech that would commonly be expected for one who is the head of public relations for one of the most important institutions in the world, but that is merely the surface of the issue. While it is true that such ignorance should not be tolerated in a world slowly evolving towards acknowledging hard truths correctly, there exists an element of ineffective communication that creates the atmosphere of uninformed animosity that currently prevails in American society.

Partially at fault is the media, whose biases are far reaching on all spectra, muddling information that then proceeds to cause a level of discourse in society that only succeeds in dividing the public apart instead of together to achieve a common goal of social progression. This is not to say that biased pieces should be discouraged, on the contrary, there will, and should always be bias, but the lack of the more unbiased sources has caused a dramatic shift towards an age of misunderstanding and ignorance. For example, taking a look at the significant learning curve facing this green administration shows these consequences of less purely factual portrayals in the media, as many voted based solely on big words and some passionate yelling both at the podium and in the newsroom. 

However, on top of a long corrupt media system, comes a key issue facing the American public in current times. Not only is the media heavily biased, but many of the people in charge of creating the information in the first place are part of a government institution being run by businessmen and, similarly to attempting to making business deals, are portraying key issues in warped ways to make people believe what they are attempting to promote. Alternative facts, indeed. The problem is that there are also those who know more and are fervently working against the institution, screaming truth, shoving historical repetition into anyone who will listen's face, plastering social movements on every platform available. This creates a polarizing disconnect. For the average American, who may not have a PhD in Sociology or be the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, they are pulled back and forth between one end to another, until they either check out or stray from their own personal belief systems for simple peace of mind. The cause of all of this lies in ineffective communication.

Every time Spicer "miscommunicates",  stating that Hitler didn't use chemical weapons or that the Trump inauguration was the largest in history simply out of spite, an untruth is sent out to the media who then interprets it with a biased filter, which then is taken by an intellectual and presented in another complex format. How can someone who has better things to do than interpret news sources all day possibly keep up with what's actually happening in the world? The media will always be biased, this much is true, but the source of the information has the capacity to lower the overall muddled-ness that would otherwise come from the current trend of contradiction and pettiness. 

The White House has a duty to the public: to communicate their intentions and events clearly and truthfully. The government serves the people by the will of the people and are therefore obligated to communicate in a manner that does not jumble preexisting events in poorly structured comparisons or be laced in unnecessary rivalry. For even when a Press Secretary gives an entirely factual, unbiased report on say, a diplomatic conference in Moscow, the media will still conform it to their specific image, and the rest of us will still have to piece together facts to get a clear picture of what's actually going on. When the White House is sending out tweets full of sudden aggression or hosting press conferences that cast a veil of shame at the lack of composure in the system, the process has been put on steroids, and by the time the small bit of information has been sent through the ringer that is the media platform, there's hardly any unbiased truth left. Society cannot progress healthily in an age of blurriness, of animosity simply for the sake of aggression, and undignified flailing when the learning curve is too great. It's high time for the White House to drag themselves from the depths that they have been stuck in since even before Trump's inauguration and back into the world of candor if we should all want to survive without killing each other over convoluted opinions.  

A Culmination of a Life's Work

When one thinks of Oscar Wilde, normally the first pieces to come to mind are the wildly hilarious play, The Importance of Being Earnest or his only true novel, The Picture of Dorian Grey. A splendid satire on the ridiculous frivolity of the Victorian upper class and a complex piece describing inner moral conflict, these and many of Wilde's plays, short stories, and poems are not necessarily light-hearted, but are abstractly humorous enough to create a commentary on real social issues that is appeasing to those who would prefer not to be faced solely with the true negativity of the world. With a decades worth of pieces embracing this comedy of manners, it would logically be expected that the final culmination of Wilde's life's work would be a masterpiece of satiric humor or complex story line, full of deep metaphors and allusions that leave no social flaw criticized. In actuality, the final product is not a comedic masterpieces that would rival Voltaire or a suspenseful drama, but rather something quite the opposite: a master thesis that both reflects and predicts the social aspects of life and the importance of staying true to one's ideals.

This piece, known as De Profundis, is not a riveting four act play, but rather a solemn, regretful letter addressed to one Lord Alfred Douglas. It may be known that Oscar Wilde's tastes were not what would be considered mainstream in the height of Victorian England and that these specific preferences would land him in prison for "indecent behavior". While Wilde is now a cultural icon for many minority groups (specifically the LGBT community) as well as for those who favor aestheticism above all else, 19th Century England demanded he serve two years in the dreary Reading Gaol for his ideals, forever altering the rather snarky personality of the Irishman into something more solemn, more profound (hence the title, De Profundis). 

De Profundis reads like a woeful break up letter, addressed to the long lost lover of Wilde, Lord Douglas, or "Bosie". Like any typical airing of grievances, the piece is an endless lists of wrongs that were committed by Wilde's partner both against Wilde directly and against himself, as Wilde accuses him of tainting his ideals with excessive vanity and frivolity. However, coupled with these pages and pages of remorse and love lost come also , in true Wilde fashion, a complex analysis of Wilde's past and how his hardship forever changes his perspective of the world.

While pointing out what seems like an infinite number of wrongdoings, Wilde also describes his own flaws, recounting how he lost his aesthetic ideals throughout his fatal dalliance with Douglas, portraying in great detail the difficulty with which it took him to complete even simple writings with the man around. He criticizes himself on his straying from embracing art for its true beauty and separating it from the trials of a corrupt society. In doing this, Wilde firmly makes the point that had previously appeared in most of his writings: that one must appreciate and separate art to achieve true beauty, that one must value true this beauty above all else, and that vanity is the downfall of those who seek the truly morally beautiful.

Exceptionally raw and well rounded, Wilde's final publication reflects on the progression of his perspective as he goes through struggle after struggle: a personal testimony to sway others from straying from the path of true idealism. De Profundis acts as a near scripture, telling the intended audience of the wrongs committed against him on account of this vainly corrupt society and how, if he had embraced the virtues that he captured in his many works, he would most likely not have been subjected to such a shameful downfall. Truly a culmination is this letter that captures all of Wilde's life views, using his own experiences as the plot, and his own mistakes as the action meant to convey a theme. In this way, Wilde's own life is used similarly to the plots of his plays, showing an audience the evidence proving how a society obsessed with the self will ruin a person morally.

Compared to all of Wilde's previous works, De Profundis takes elements from each, forming a deeply complex analysis of life. It is as extensive of a farewell as an author can give: a beautiful summing up of a life's worth of exploration into the deep world of morally right vs. morally wrong. It isn't happy, light, or warming, and should be explored only when one has a strong, stable mind prepared for an eternity of reflection. However, as morose as it may seem, there are few other pieces of literature so inclusive of all of one author's true ideals and feelings as this letter written by a shamed man from the cold confines of a prison cell manages to achieve.

Ramblings of the Uninspired

Perhaps it is the various assignments, extra curriculars, or impending pressures of standardized testing piling up on the conscience. Maybe it's simply the agitation at the lack of intriguing events occurring in my field of view, or just as conceivably, a simple exhaustion of resources. Quite possibly, all of these potentialities are working together in a plot to prevent me from catching the one small thing I desire: inspiration.

Just one thread, one intriguing thought, would be enough to send me on a pleasant writing spree lasting at least a half hour or more. I would be granted with the gentle ease of an exciting discussion, the flow of deep, complex perspectives that excites and sparks hours of progressive conversations, the kinds that leave one satiated with their knowledge, or perhaps new discoveries, on a specific topic at hand. Be it a theme from a novel, a social issue, a new invention, or an obscure dream, anything would be welcome to spark the imagination and prompt the creation of a passage much more interesting to read than this simple lament.

It's not that I lack the outlets to find these nuggets of entertainment. I have a fill of monthly shows from Rogers and Hammerstein to Dvorak, an endlessly growing list of "to reads", "currently readings", and "read agains" that will always be at the ready for a casual peruse. The problem is, there are only so many times one can write about Oscar Wilde's uniquely hilarious social commentary or how fantastic, dazzling, or beautiful the latest production to hit the Aronoff Center is before the audience and the writer herself will grow tired. How many times can a person describe the idiocy and social crimes committed by institutions such as the government before they are reduced to repeating the same argument in only increasingly muddled rewording?

Perhaps the solution lies in merely looking into other authors, finding new, not yet widely debated, topics that will fuel the desire once again to expand my horizons and see yet another perspective of humanity. Should another reason appear as to why I have such passion for society and its improvement, I would write paragraph after paragraph, blog post after blog post, describing and theorizing until I have my own novella. Unfortunately for me, that dreamed of cause has not yet revealed itself. Instead lies this dry spell of continued, outstretched ramblings about the weather, or daily life, or how adult-like changes are causing teenage anxiety: the simple basics that fall much lower on the spectrum of what I consider truly intriguing.

In all, it seems that until this long lost and desired i passion for intellectual debate returns, the only topic I seem truly inspired to capture in my writing is just how uninspired I am, and how I yearn for the refreshment of a unique theme, perspective, or motif that I have not yet deeply considered.

 

Harsh Realities of Lackluster Spectacles

"Congratulations to the Batavia High School Marching Band on their acceptance to participate in the Red's Opening Day Parade!"

For many, particularly the freshman and sophomores who were denied the opportunity to participate in this uniquely Cincinnatian event, there is justifiable cause for excitement. Everyone watches the Opening Day parade, it's essentially a local holiday. It's quite possibly the most notable parade that these students will march in their entire career. Parents will take off work and pictures will grace the feeds of every social media platform. There is an element of pride in being one of the few bands selected to be in the event, and even more so in the fact that this is not the first, but rather, the fourth time that Batavia High School will make the trip to Findlay Market to participate.

That being said, he only group of students that have successfully participated in all four parades is the current senior class. Being given the opportunity to march 8th grade year in the height of the awkward transition from "big kid" to  what would become "young adult", the idea of doing an official marching band function with the official marching band was nothing to shrug at. It was a momentous occasion. It was the first test for those who were desperate to join the ranks after years of gawking at the flashy green uniforms and loud sound. The parade was a whirlwind of thrills, from being thrown into the block formation in front of thousands, to knowing that the event was televised. For us rookies it was a moment to remember with gratification.

The excitement continued into the next year, when the now new freshmen once again marched the streets of downtown Cincinnati. The music was upbeat, and the morale was high. Plus, we got out of school for the day, what's better than that? Nevermind the legs and shoulders that were severely sore afterwards, as muscles that hadn't been used in months were once again awakened. Overall, though, the overwhelming enthusiasm and anticipation offered a significant distraction from an otherwise miserable physical sentiment.

Sophomore year signaled the turning point in feelings for this parade that was said to be a monumental achievement for our kind of band. Now, as third time parade marchers, the excitement dwindled. It was very much "been there, done that". No one was overly excited to go out and march after months of not marching, and no one was quite ready for the perfectionist based stress that comes with being part of a band to increase. Nevertheless, we went out and performed enthusiastically, happy to see the sights on the first day back from spring break rather than suffer in the confines of the high school. We tried our best to ignore the sweltering heat and the desperate need for ice packs and ace bandages as we all but dragged ourselves to the equally stuffy buses waiting to bring us home.

Transitioning ahead two years, here we sit, two weeks away from the fourth and final time participating in the Red's Opening Day chaos. Now, for many, the excitement exists only in the form of a small sliver of pride at doing this rather surreal affair the most times out of any class. The anticipation that distracted us from the grievances that come with the parade has long faded, and now there lies only the difficulties. The practice that is required to get back into form will be trying, the weather will either be uncomfortably cold or uncomfortably hot, the food will be overpriced, the lineups will be unorganized. In actuality, the parade seems like more of a challenge than it's worth.

On top of this comes actually doing the parade in itself. Almost two miles of marching on uneven ground while holding up an instrument in perfect form is not something easily accomplished by those who have not set food on a marching field since November. Already, we feel the tension and complaints from our shoulders, necks, backs, legs, and hips. There is nothing exciting about being in significant pain for the week following due to the sudden strain of unused muscles, or the money being spent on the chiropractic appointments just to prep for the event. The thought of being drenched in sweat and dying of thirst is everything but pleasant, and the possibility of stepping in the unsanitary remnants from floats or carriages that are ahead in the lineup can make anyone cringe.

In retrospect, each time out on the parade route has been, at least in some degree, miserable. The excitement is there, yes, but when one looks past it, the same grievances remain and it's easy to see just how grueling the whole affair actually is. It is an event defined as "once and done", fitting into the category of occasions that only really need to happen one time an one time only. For the first timers, hopefully they will embrace blissful ignorance, energized by the dramatics of it all, and will be able to look past the physical and mental state of extensive displeasure that will come afterwards, when they rub charlie horses from their calves and ice their throbbing shoulders. For us veterans, we can only prepare the best we can in hopes that the consequences of suddenly jumping in for the longest parade of the season will not last a full week and hinder us from the school work that demands a functioning brain.

Hobbies For Hire

With the hours upon hours of dedication to what has resulted in a perfection-based decade of academia, free time is not a term that floats around often. Almost a taboo, free time occurs on the rare occasions when there is a break in the work flow, when the body says no to doing any more worksheets, essays, or labs, or on the rare weekend afternoon when there isn't another appointment that demands attention. But when the time comes that a physician formally recommends this previously blasphemous idea into the complex workings of a never ending schedule, the negative connotation of free time must be relieved and instead, embraced.

In 2017, it's common for many to embrace the idea of relaxation and self rejuvenation. The stigma connecting free time with laziness and poor work ethic has faded, at least enough for those who choose to live more freely to do so without widespread criticism. It isn't uncommon in the slightest for people to have fun activities that they do to relax or specific time set aside purely for wellness. In fact, it's almost encouraged. Regardless, for me, an uptight, by-the-book perfectionist, free time is merely an idea. With free time comes at least one thing weighing on the mind, be it another assignment or some sort of family function that I will, in some shape or form, have to mentally prepare for. Free time is not as much about relaxing, having fun, and embracing life's simple pleasures, than it is about recharging after a long week and preparing for the next one.

As one might expect, this frame of mind does not work out so well in terms of dealing with the copious amounts of stress that fill every minute of every day. Free time should not be about simply readying oneself for the next task, but should instead be about learning about oneself and taking the time for simple enjoyment, and while I do find myself enjoying the finer things in life (taking a trip to the theater, for example), many of these activities require the same amounts of energy to do the work during the week, just with a different outcome. Therefore, I have deemed it essential to find something to do that embraces an element of frivolity that does not involve extensive travelling or preparation, something simple that embodies the true definition of free relaxation time. And thus, I have made the decision to find a hobby.

A hobby is something that I have always strove to achieve, yet never actually successfully carried out. In the course of my near two decades of life, I have tried numerous different activities, regretfully finding that none of them quite stuck. From infatuations with collecting things and creating pieces of art to dedicating a few years to martial arts, equestrianism, and rock climbing, the list is extensive and wide ranging of all the hobbies I have tried (and failed) to embrace. Based on this experience in unsuccessful dabbling, I have managed to come to a few conclusions about finding some sort of past time that would prove beneficial to rejuvenation and my own personal enjoyment.

For starters, it would have to fit in with my busy schedule, something quick and easy that I could do at home or on the go. Next, any physical element would have to be limited, on account of an unfortunate shoulder issue and the equally unfortunate fact that anything athletic has often resulted in bouts of extensive humiliation. It would have to be sophisticated, nothing too extreme or bold, yet also unique in a way that would stimulate the always running mind of mine. Complicated enough yet?

Any hobby fitting these over-analyzed requirements would be acceptable, and I would ideally like to find one before devoting the next decade to a college degree or two. Needless to say, expectations for something of this sort are not exceptionally high. In trying to sort out what works for me and what doesn't, I've almost made my own hobby out of overthinking about hobbies themselves. It's possible that a reason for not being able to find something entertaining that lasts is the fact that I subject to this overthinking and grow bored by excessive simplicity. Or maybe there is a bizarre trend out there that I have yet to stumble across. Zen Gardening, perhaps? Painting ceramics? Anything to actually make use of the free time I am to be granted would be acceptable and very much appreciated.