Changing Majors

All throughout childhood I was under the impression that everyone thinks in pictures.
As I grew older, I learned that most people are not as visual as I am. When something happens they don’t record it with a series of images in their minds, and they certainly don’t turn in papers with cartoons up and down the margins.
Most students are probably capable of listening without simotaniously sketching the professor behind his or her podium.

Whenever I hear stories, I visualize them happening.
If a friend is telling me a story, I imagine every intricate detail of the setting and the characters. Its like making a movie in my head.
If I don’t know these things based on content, I simply make them up.

I think this must be the reason I was always so interested in history.
Even in high school during lectures I would hear about an event, and I would visualize the story. There were real people, who were likable, who had families, and values and beliefs. They had fears, and hopes and dreams, and they interacted with one another. And they were characters in this greater story. They fought in the American revolution, they snuck alcohol down from Canada during prohibition, and they stood up for civil rights in the 1960’s.
The human story is absolutely intreaging.

But History is really quite paradoxical.

(Or I should say, the progress of history is really quite paradoxical.)

Even though Barak Obama is our president, simotaniously, racial tensions and boundaries chop up our public school systems, our cities, and our neighborhoods.
While on this side of the world we are concerned with the newest iphone, on the other side of the globe people are dying from starvation.

Human history is so expansive, it seems impossible to fully comprehend every subplot to the larger story.

But I love it.

When I first came to WT, I was a social work major.
For one of the introduction classes, I had to put in 15 hours of community service in a semester. I chose to work at a local nursing home, shadowing and helping the on-site social worker.
One of my first jobs was to go get to know the residents of the nursing home.

So I would go sit with the elderly and just talk to them.
Though I learned a lot about social work during my hours there, I feel I learned much more by listening to those people’s stories.

Some of them lived through WWII and were so poor their parents made clothes for them using burlap sacks.
Others were living on farms during the dust bowl, and they described the black sky, and the barren fields.
One man even fought in the second world war, and after bringing him coffee every day I’d earned the right to hear about his platoon’s involvment overseas.

Those were real people.
And real stories.

So, now I’m a history major seeking certification to teach high school.
I’ve only just begun my junior year, so I’ve only scraped the surface of the WT history department, but so far I like what I see.

Hopefully, after two more years hanging around the fourth floor of Old Main I’ll leave this place not only with the knowledge of the human story and how to write about it, but I’ll leave here and contribute to it.

And in the mean time, I’m sorry about all the drawing in class.

A West Texas Win

Football season is great.
No, I don’t really love football that much, but I do like it.
I’ll wander in and out while the boys are watching the game, and help myself to some chips and queso, or whatever. I’m not going to paint “cowboys” across my face, but I do enjoy a nice blitz.

Speaking of football…
Last night the WT football team traveled to the middle of nowhere, just past yander “biggest cross of the midwest”, to Weatherford, Oklahoma.
Not because we’re die-hard face-painters, or incapable of filling a Saturday night, but because me and my friends love road trips, football players and gas station food we lived the dream, and followed the team.
So far this season the buffs have had it pretty rough, and we were 0-3 walking into their stadium.
Its almost as if the Coach Carthel generation doesn’t know what to do with losses. Ever since he arrived in 2005 wearing his little maroon baseball cap, and his radio head-set, Coach Carthel has been pulling in countless victories. My freshmen year of college the buff football team went 11-0. It was beautiful.
But true fans are not fair-weather fans. We’re there for every game regardless of where the zero is placed in our record, just like Carthel’s once-maroon, but now kinda pink coachin’ hat.

But with our support, the buffs got rid of their zero last night.

It was a slaughter of epic proportions. The score at half time was 31 nothing the buffs, and though we gave up a touch down or two somewhere in or around the third quarter, the final numbers were buffs 40-something, and Southwestern Oklahoma State University 15.

All strings of the buffalo football team saw some field time, which is actually great news for me. That means that I can throw a “good game” to virtually any footballer and pretty much guarantee plans for next weekend, too!

Cheers for a needed victory, and for having classes and future dates with the West Texas A&M football boys!

Reflections.

Another year has come and gone, and I’m 30 some odd credit hours closer to a completed degree plan. I left Canyon this week, leaving many of my friends behind for the summer, to come back to Dallas and do an internship. It was a miserable drive, but I got to reflect a lot on my semester. 

I really did learn a lot at WT in the past two semesters.
Dr. Bruce Braisington is accountable for most of what I learned in the classroom setting. His class was by far the most challenging, and most enjoyable I’ve ever had. I’d recommend him for anyone who wants to understand history, but probably not for the faint of heart. 

But I think most of the things I learned in the 2008 / 2009 school year were actually not from a classroom. 
So I’ve taken the liberty of putting together a small list of just a few of the things I’ve come to understand….

=Amarillo’s Vince’s Pizza Challenge is better in theory than actual execution. 
=It is possible to make someone laugh so hard that they throw up.
=Dance parties make dorm rooms smell like feet. 
=Dance parties are still worth it, just plug in an air freshener.
=Take as many road trips as you can. Destination isn’t as important as company. 
=Ribbon dancing is a perfectly exceptional way to spend a Thursday night.  
=If you ghost ride the whip, your car will be rockin some sweet dents on the roof. 
=Drive-in Theaters are a perfect excuse to munch on a turkey leg, and watch a movie in the bed of a truck.  
=Any video left on your facebook wall after 3 am will make you stupider.
= There is no shame in procrastinating bad enough to pull an all-nighter. 
= The closing music in the Library will only scare you if you let it. 
=Popsicles are best when actually frozen.
 =Study parties only work with people who actually study.
=You Shouldn’t eat seafood in a town 18 miles from the ocean.  
=In a community bathroom, whatever you do will be recognized by the community.
= If an idea sounds like it’ll end badly, it probably will….
=Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should…..

It was a good year. I walk away with many more stories and a little more knowledge than I began with. 
Cheers, WT, see you in the fall.

Rainy Days

I have been thinking what to write this blog post on, but throughout the weeks every idea I have come up with has seemed lacking so to speak. I thought about addressing issues I have with the educational philosophy of the university, the spending and monetary allocations of the university, the 30+ pages I have to write before the semester is over, and so on and so forth. Since this is a WT student blog those seem like logical topics to write on but as I said they all seemed more or less lacking. Before I started writing this, I was sitting on my front porch awed by the beauty of the falling rain and the low moving clouds that were being accompanied by the magnificent rolling claps of thunder and flashes of lighting that illuminated the sky in almost a supernatural way. A perfect orchestra directed by the hand of God that completely eradicates anything ever composed by John Williams. While sitting there watching the rain feeling the cool breeze, I had an epiphany, one I often have but often forgot.

Rez Week

My freshman year I remember hearing the words Rez week, and wondering are people here allowed to say that?  Coming here from Montana Rez was a termed used to refer to the Indian Reservations, and not in a positive sense.  After getting used to hearing the word Rez in a positive sense, abbreviation for resurrection I am able to enjoy the week leading up to Easter (Rez Week).

                Rez weeks is one of my favorite times of the year, because we are reminded of the resurrection all during the week.  It is also nice to see different Christian organizations on campus come together to help for a common goal.  Last year Rez week ended with a rally that included worship, and the opportunity to hear from different leaders from each organization.  Every day a different organization sponsors a free lunch in the JBK.  Monday’s lunch was sponsored by Buffs for Christ, Tuesday the Wesley, and Thursday the BSM. 

                This year, WT’s own Abbey Jo Martinkus, created a mural in which students could write a note saying what they thought of God’s love.  The theme for this year was Greater Love, describing that there is no greater love than to die for someone else.  This is the whole story of Easter and the Resurrection, that Christ would give His life in order for us to live.

                I hope everyone was able to get out and be a part of the activities, and enjoy what each organization is doing on campus.  Along with that, I hope everyone had a fun and safe Easter.  I hope Rez week allowed for us to remember the Great Love, and the true meaning of Easter. 

 

 

 

 

Philly Cheesesteaks and Papers, Baby!

Only four weeks of school, seventy pages to write (including a twenty-five page beast for my honors thesis), seven books to read, at least four all-nighters, and three tests to go.

Awesome.  I feel like I might not make it.  This month is probably going to be the most intense of my undergraduate career.  Bring it on.  This is all I have before I will officially by an alumnus of this fine institution.

I find that if I take Richard Dreyfuss’s advice in What About Bob? I can actually survive and even thrive.  I try not to think about all that I have to do because it will only drive me to despair and back to my recently ditched habit of Dr. Pepper addiction.

At least, I have somewhat of a plan for my summer and next fall.  I just have to make it to May 8.

I was accepted to the two graduate institutions I had applied to, and, after a suicide trip to New England during spring break, I know where I want to go and will be moving to Philadelphia the first week of June.

This is quite terrifying and exciting all at the same time.

I have always wanted to live in the real city.  I love the energy, the diversity, the coolness, and the culture of the big city.  I also cannot wait to take classes I care a lot more about.  It is going to be awesome to live an hour and a half from New York City and three hours from Washington D.C.  As an American historian, Philadelphia is such a rich treasure house of ridiculous history, like Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell.

However, I have lived in Canyon for the past fourteen years.  I have developed a ridiculous community and support system here at WT.  There are many people here that I love and that love me.  Also, I have a physical disability that prevents me from being fully-functioning at times.

So even though moving to the fifth largest city in America is extremely exciting and I know its what I need to do, I still have considerable reservations and fears about June.

It would be an absolute shame, though, to be ruled by fear.  Even though I am quite fearful, God has been faithful to reveal time and time again that I have what it takes through his strength and spirit.  This is one of the most important confidences a man needs to have.  The principle question a man deals with is “Do I have what it takes?”  This question is even more important when dealing with a disabled person.

About two weeks ago, I had a flat tire around 12:45 on a Sunday night.  Now, it is important for the reader to know how mechanically savvy I am not.  I actually ruined my first car because I didn’t know you were supposed to change the oil in it.  So once I realized I had a flat, the despair set in.  I immediately called a friend who I assumed was still awake.  Unfortunately she didn’t answer.

I paused and a determination set in.  I can do this.  So I got out of the car and began the tedious, for me at least, work of replacing the flat tire.  It was amusing, at one point, I had hiked the car up off the ground and was attempting to pull the tire off.  The tire just would not come up.  Then, I realized that I had to take the bolts off first.  Duh!!

Anyway, I did it.  I survived the flat tire and successfully put on the donut.  It did take me about 45 minutes but I did it.  It was if God was showing me that I didn’t need to fear anymore.  He is with me and has and will give me everything that I need.

So, even though I am terrified of leaving this haven where I know and love so many people, it is time to leave.  It is time to have my own adventure with God.  It is time to be a real man and adult.  And I am excited about this.  So I will end this blog with a challenge. . . Philadelphia, Bring it On!

Errands and Epiphanies

“The American Dream”

I could see the gray expanse of suburban Dallas stretching all the way to the smoggy horizon. The sun had just set, from what I could tell from just beyond the bent tip of the airplane wing. 
I’d been buried in my book for most of the flight, but was pleased to be distracted by an announcement of descent and a view of downtown Dallas through the port hole. 

But it wasn’t long after stepping foot into the terminal before I was in a sea of people. Computers laid open on every lap over the age of 19, and iPods were shoved in every ear younger. Children hung on the legs of their parents who were vigorously checking their blackberries, and flight attendants were sneaking a chat on their cell phones to check in with hubby two or three cities away.
Baggage claim was a breeze, and soon their after I sat upon my suitcase in the metroplex twilight looking up at the unusually smoggy sky while I waited for my ride to get there so I could be carted off to Carrollton. 

The last time I’d visited home had been for Christmas, so it was a nice suprise to not only visit but to fly in.
My house smells the same, but my nephew is taller.

The next morning my family’s life went on as usual. At eight-thirty a.m., the house had already emptied out and everyone was off to their various forms of work. I had my mother’s car at my disposal, and a list of errands to run while in the city. I lounged in the quiet for some time, and then went to the bank, to see a few old friends,to get some lunch (and a stomach ache) at a Chinese super buffet, and to the Apple store in Willowbend mall.

I parked in the first garage I saw, in between a Lexis and a H2 Hummer. 
I took to noticing all the cars and guessing how much each one cost, then trying to add the total money in my head, but once I got to the millions, I couldn’t keep up with all the zeros and gave up as I pushed the glass door into the foyer. 

Turns out I parked outside of Neiman Marcus, and I entered the store near the fine jewlry section. I took note of a headless manikin wearing a necklace worth more than my college career, and decided that to be my scarecrow to find my car later. 
Two women who smelled like over-priced perfume looked down their noses at me as I passed their counter of shiny rock rings I have no interest in. 
Three different women in the make-up section offered the prim, young girl next to me samples of their finest goop, and ignored my presence, surely, because of my outrageous choice of shoe wear, (toms). 
I shrugged at someone’s bored husband, and acknowledged his sacrifice of purse holding near on of the glass counters by the entrance to the mall, and was glad to get into the hallway. 

In the Apple store children begged their parents for the biggest iPod. 
“I don’t have enough space,” one little boy cried, “The iPod you gave me for Christmas is black, and I want a white one, that’s got more gigs.” 
Adults huddled around iPhones like newborns, ooh-ing and aw-ing and stroking the screens like little baby noses. 

There were so many people in there I never got help enough from anyone to even ask the question I’d initially shown up for, and ended up leaving just to get out of the mall. 
Something about the recirculated air, the extravagant spending, and the Chinese super buffet were making my stomach churn. 

Why. 
All.
The.
Stuff. 

Cause it’s the American Dream. 

People get an education. 
To get a job.
The job is to save money. 
To be able to live but make enough
To buy the stuff. 

But the stuff will break. 
The cool thing will no longer be cool. 
(digipets, pokemon cards, cassett tapes, polo shirts, doc martins, jnco jeans, and full house hair cuts.) 
The ipod will break, the music will get over played, old, and out of date. 
The computer will get a virus.
The phone will get dropped in the toilet….

Buying all these things for happiness….won’t work. 
(90% of people who have all the things, the cars, the bling, the house, the entertainment center, the media room, the computer stuff, the swimming pool, and the dog named Rex, are living extravagantly in extravagant debt. )

I’m not sure how much of this American Dream I buy into. 

If THINGS and our LIST of TO-DO’s replace PEOPLE and RELATIONSHIPS we’ll all be empty shells. 
The American dream feeds us materialism…consumer economy…debt….and lies about what success looks like. Is the richest man most successful? Is the man with the biggest house who we aspire to be? But life is about more than things…

What would it look like if our education was used to relate to others–
our things were used as tools to help one another–
our extravagant life styles weren’t worth more than a human relationship…
We valued each other more than stuff…. 

The American Dream just isn’t for me.

From Sea to Shining Snow

For Spring Break this year I participated in a mission trip to South Padre Island called “Beach Reach.” It was actually started in 1980 by a professor here at W.T. named Buddy Young, a rather infamous Baptist Minister in charge of the Baptist Student Ministry here on Campus. This was the 30th spring break for Beach Reach, and my second excursion to the South.

And quite a Spring Break it was.
I wish I could sum it up in full, but just for a general idea, about 500 college students from across the nation, including about 150 from the Panhandle of Texas (students of W.T. and Amarillo College) load up and head to South Padre Island to give free van rides and breakfast to party-goers. It was an incredible oppertunity to serve the Spring Breakers, and to really live out the love that Christians always talk about having.
In addition to getting to know people from across the country, and serve along-side my peers from West Texas, I also got a remarkable tan.

It was actually sort of strange to come home to Canyon.

Friday March 2oth I was standing knee deep in the Gulf of Mexico, waves crashing into the middle of me. I could taste the salt of the ocean, and feel the sun coat my back and arms like a soft, fleece snuggie. My hair was pulled back, and my tank top left a white shadow of itself, pefectly outlined by the South Padre sun.

Friday March 27th, I was diving off of back-yard fences into eight foot snow drifts, digging tunnels like a snow-gopher, and sliding down snow hills on cardboard boxes bundled beneath layers and layers of long johns, thermal tees and ski jackets.

A freak-post-spring-break blizzard engulfed my college town this weekend, and we were delightfully suprised with a campus-shut-down snow day.

I managed to gather 15 of my closest friends by noon and we were all carrying cardboard make-shift sleds to the hill behind Walmart.  I do say this though, my tan was even more remarkable against the fluffy white powder backdrop.

It was quite literally one of the greatest weekends of my life.

My friends and I were all excused from our obligations due to the snow, and we got to play for seven plus hours making snow tunnels, summer saulting, sliding on ice patches, assulting cars, peers and strangers with snowballs, going on long walks, making snow-ice-cream, snow-men, and snow-angels outside of Old Main. We plummetted down the hill behind Walmart on our cardboard sleds, attempted two-man summer salts, made s’mores on a chimineah and watched the snow coat everything and everyone well into the ungodly early hours of Saturday morning.

It was absolutely majestic.
I’m blown away by God’s creation.
To go from holding my breath and being tossed about by the strength of ocean waves, to being overtaken by icy-chills on a midnight walk through the feilds of perfect white snow can only be attributed to how Great a Creator I live to serve.

It was epic.
Just how epic? Perhaps the photos below will help explain…

Here is me and some other ladies from WT being pretty on the beach. (If this picture doesn’t get us husbands, I don’t know what will.)

This was on the hill behind Walmart, shortly after “Hungry” John and I attempted a two-person summersalt. I’m in the green and blue boots. My head is being squished.

From Sea to Snow, my buddies at West Texas A&M are for sure the best around.
Here’s to living the dream with ya’ll.

Cheers.

A New Year of Culture Shock Part 2

Culture shock can be defined as a condition of disorientation affecting someone who is suddenly exposed to an unfamiliar culture or way of life or set of attitudes. If any of ya’ll have ever experienced culture shock then you most likely agree with this definition. In my last post I mentioned how, while in China, I experienced culture shock.

Although the city I was in had about two million people, the atmosphere was completely relaxed and calm. The pace of life, unlike the U.S., was slow, efficient, and effective. You either walked or took the bus, while sometimes taking a taxi. The stress of traffic, gas prices, and flat tires did not exist. If you wanted to go somewhere you just hopped on the bus, received the joy of meeting a stranger, and in a few minutes you were at your destination.

Spring Break!

Spring Break could not possibly come at a better time!  It just seems like every class has everything going on the weeks leading up to Spring Break, making a week off so much more relaxing.  No matter what a student does, whether it is road tripping, vacationing, staying in the big city of Canyon, or even working, a week without the worries of school is highly rewarding. 

A group of WT students, including myself, really try and use their spring break to help others.  The event I am writing of is Beach Reach.  Beach Reach finds its origin here at WT, founded by the BSM director Buddy Young.  Beach Reach is a servant evangelism project that takes place every spring break.  Groups of Christian students gather from all over Texas, and several surrounding states.  They gather at South Padre Island to help students that are there for Spring Break.  Beach Reachers offer van rides at night, free pancakes at night and in the morning, and help students in whatever way possible. 

The van rides are a huge hit.  With the Island being packed with students, it is hard to drive, and many are incapable of walking far distances.  With free pancakes being offered, who can resist?  College students will never pass up a free meal.  The experience is truly life changing, because the students involved with Beach Reach feel like they have made their spring break count for something greater than themselves.  You are able to meet people from all over the nation and share the love of God.  When opportunities arise, students present a gospel message to show to the spring breakers just how much more God loves them.

So as we all go off to different locations, I hope that you will remember what exciting things students from WT are doing with their spring break.  Keep them in your thoughts and prayers, along with the people on South Padre.  Safety is always a number one concern, and with offering these free van rides it helps to keep students safe.  I’m sure this year will be better than ever, and a spring break to truly remember.  The spring break opportunities are endless!