I'm baaaaaaaaack

Alright, it's been a while. But here I am, equipped with a new blog format (background courtesy of MOI, taken in Sainte Chapelle). Since I last posted a lot has happened; I graduated college, went to Paris, started graduate school and began my student teaching. It's been a whirlwind of a past few months, but as busy as I've been, I've been enjoying every second of it :)

Osama bin Laden

So Osama bin Laden is dead.

Way to go America?

I guess I really don’t know what to say in a situation like this. As happy as the United States seems to be, to me there is something unsettling about celebrating a death, regardless of how horrific the being may have been (click on the title for a link to an interesting article).

I’m conflicted. There’s a quote from Mark Twain that states, “'I’ve never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure." And I guess that holds true…I mean, I’m sure everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the real-life villains of our time died – Hitler, Hussein, Osama, etc. But what does this solve? What does this do?

Here is another quote, that I tend to lean towards:

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"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that" - Martin Luther King, Jr.

We didn’t stop terrorism yesterday. We didn’t ensure that acts of violence against America would no longer happen. Instead, we made ourselves feel better by killing one – albeit, one very POWERFUL – individual.

Revenge is a vicious, scary cycle. We “got them back”, I guess, but now does that make it THEIR turn? When does it end? Like my staunchly anti-death penalty stance, I view murder for murder as one of the most hypocritical and unproductive punishments there are. It yields more anger, more hurt, and more hate.

This may seem a little off on a tangent, but stay with me here: throughout my life, I’ve at times wanted to be a vegetarian (hating the thought of an innocent animal dying). To me, eating those fat, juicy steaks I came to love were that much better if I internally convinced myself that the cow had died of natural causes. As yesterday’s news rolled around, the same idea came to mind – if he had died rather haphazardly I may have seen more joy in it. I would have thanked luck, not the SWAT team with machine guns.

Again, I’m conflicted. I know the world is a better place without him in it, but, taking away the individual, the idea of celebrating the murder of a person seems wrong. The elation of Americans proves that we are an insensitive, egocentric country.

And, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that one of the main reasons terrorists targeted us in the first place?

Exciting news, coming my way!

Brag time.

I finished my thesis a couple weeks ago, and as I’ve already shared with most of you, I nominated to pass with distinction (which is the highest honor you can get for your honors thesis). It goes into review April 25th, and I should know after that if I won such honor. I had lunch with my thesis advisor yesterday, and he told me I shouldn’t worry – he’d be surprised if I didn’t pass with distinction. He said usually on committees the four evaluators duke it out, for they have to be unanimous in their favorable vote. In my case, all four evaluators, without hesitation or discussion, nominated me.

I also got recommended and submitted my research for two undergraduate research awards. I presented at a symposium on Monday to a board of six research professors, and I should hear back from them soon. They had quite a few positive things to say about my project – one professor praised my thorough research, another my writing and writing style. In fact, one of the evaluators is friends with my advisor, Jesse, and told him (in confidence, so shhhh) that I had a really good shot at winning. So we’ll see!

But the biggest news, is that I found out the day I presented at the symposium that I won the other research award; the Emeritus Society Award. I was ecstatic, to say the least, and unbelievably proud. I haven’t won something of that magnitude ever, so it was so fulfilling and something I will always remember. I attend an awards ceremony Tuesday to accept the award. Check out the announcement on WSU’s website by clicking the title of this blog.

Yesterday, Jesse took me out to lunch to celebrate. It was a great time, and in the end, he told me that I was no longer my advisor or professor, and I was no longer his student or mentee. From now on, he said, we should refer to each other as friends. We promised to keep in touch, and meet up whenever I come to Pullman or if he’s in Seattle. I will definitely miss him, and am so thankful for having the opportunity to work with him.

At lunch though, Jesse shared with me one more piece of exciting news. An Emeritus professor at WSU read my work and was enamored by it. He asked Jesse to give me his email so that I could potentially send him another copy. He also asked if he could share it with a professor at a different university who is in the process of writing a book on Jewish history. I considered this request such an honor. What’s even more exciting is that this Emeritus professor is in the education field and is a leading researcher and advocate in school reform in Washington State, specifically in regards to the WASL. Jesse stated this might be a good opportunity to get into contact with him, as I myself am going into education and he is certainly well established and respected in the field. So I am beyond excited to talk to him and feel so proud that someone with such high credentials felt so strongly about my work.

Alright, enough bragging. I apologize, but it’s been a whirlwind of a last week or so, and I had to share all this exciting news! Thanks for listening to my ramble on, yet again, about my thesis!

Boys vs. Girls

Harry Burns was right.

I wanted to deny it, for years. But when Harry turned to Sally Albright and told her guys and girls couldn't be friends (because the sex always got in the way) he unfortunately spoke the truth.

(Buy the way, if anyone is lost about who I'm referring to, I'm disappointed in you. Get off my blog.)

When I came to college, I formed many friendships...primarily with guys. I naively thought "How great! I love hanging out with such low-maintenance, low-drama people who want to talk about baseball and eat giant burgers with me!" Many even moved past the trivial baseball-watching, burger-eating friendship and became people I thought i could be real, true friends with. People I could talk to, cry to, and count on. I'm approaching the end of college in 5 short weeks, and honestly? I don't know if I can truly see myself staying contact with any of these "friends" once I leave here.

It does kind of make me sad...some of these guys I honestly though I was close to- thought we'd be lifelong friends. So what happened? Well, several things. In some instances, I'd start dating someone and the "friend" would suddenly not want anything to do with me. Or' they'll decide they have feelings for me, tell me, and it'd get awkward and they'd retract. Or. they'd start dating someone and would no longer have time for a platonic female friend (although I can't always blame the guy completely for this one -- some of the blame must be placed on their controlling, insecure girlfriends who aren't comfortable with their boyfriends fostering a friendship with me).

Now, there are a few exceptions to the rule, and, though rare, they do exist. But true friendships are very difficult to form with members of the opposite sex. Friendships with males can only (for the majority of the time) only really exist if they stay in the superficial sports-food-and-beer-drinking stage. And, even then, I wouldn't count on it lasting. I want to say that maybe this will change as I get older, and men will no longer act like the horny, selfish guys that I've encountered. Unfortunately, I'm under the belief that boys will be boys, regardless of age (sorry to my male readers out there!)

So what does this all mean? Well, I'll still enjoy the fun, superficial friendships I foster with males, I'll cherish and appreciate the rare REAL friendships I am able to have with males(shout out to my only guy friends and pseudo-brothers Seth and Matt!), and I'll be FOREVER thankful for the girls in my life.

I'll now leave you with the full quote...god, I love this movie:

Harry Burns: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally Albright: Why not?
Harry Burns: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally Albright: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.
Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.
Harry Burns: You only think you do.
Sally Albright: You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry Burns: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sally Albright: They do not.
Harry Burns: Do too.
Sally Albright: They do not.
Harry Burns: Do too.
Sally Albright: How do you know?
Harry Burns: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally Albright: So, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry Burns: No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sally Albright: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?
Harry Burns: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally Albright: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.
Harry Burns: I guess not.

Winners and Losers

(This is a commemorative speech I just wrote for my public speaking class...)

I’ll never forget the first time I met Devin. He was 20, I was 16. At 6’5”, he towered over me. He approached me rather abruptly and with intensity. He started to ask me multiple, completely random questions: did I like swimming? Was I right handed or left handed? Or, my personal favorite, how did I feel about mayonnaise? I was honestly uncomfortable. I didn’t know exactly how to respond. Luckily, a woman came and diverted his attention back to his school work he was supposed to be doing. I learned that Devin was autistic, and was in a special program for teens with autism. Devin challenged me that day, and I felt it was my turn to challenge myself. So, right then and there, I rather impulsively filled out an application to become a tutor within the program.

Over the next two years, I became Devin’s personal tutor. I spent every weekday with him, and as much as I taught him, he taught me more. What I immediately admired about Devin was his confidence – he approached me that first day with such assurance in himself, an assurance that most high school students often didn’t possess. Devin was himself, 100% of the time. And although he was often obsessive, socially-awkward and incoherent, he was shameless about it. No one should be afraid to be themselves, and Devin certainly reinforced that belief into me. Not only that, but Devin also proved to be one of the most compassionate people I’ve come to know. He fostered a genuine concern about everyone around him. His habit of asking obsessive, random questions proved just that – he wanted to get to know everyone and really become their friend.

Devin quickly became more than just “the boy I tutored”. He became my friend.

Regardless, I don’t think I really fully appreciated Devin until one specific day. You see, everyday, Devin and I went to a PE class, where they played individual sports (in teams). We played badminton, ping pong, bowling, etc. Unfortunately, every single game, we lost. Devin was a good sport though, and insisted on shaking the hands of his opponents congratulating their win. One day, after losing, he went to shake a boy’s hand. The boy, in turn, looked at Devin with disgust, and responded with a rather rude rendition of “no”. I was angered beyond belief, and after telling the other boy I found his actions unacceptable, me and Devin began to walk back to his class. On the way back, I apologized to Devin, on behalf of the boy. Devin responded that it was ok, he said the boy was simply a bad winner. I agreed, then Devin stated that he was the best loser ever. He kept repeating, over and over again, that he was a better loser than all the kids in his class. He was starting to annoy me and I snapped at him to stop it – there were a lot of good losers in the world besides him as well. Finally, he screamed at me, and this, I will never forget: he said he was the best loser because he lost the most in life.

This stung. Maybe because, until this day, I never gave Devin, or the Devin’s of the world, enough credit. Devin lost every sports game he played, yet he still played and put forth all his effort, even though it went for naught. And he did so with enthusiasm, a positive attitude, and sportsmanship that I had never before witnessed. But it wasn’t limited to this trivial PE class; this was how Devin lived his life. He would never drive a car. He would never go to college. He would never live alone. But Devin is one of the most persistent people I have come to know. Whereas many people would quit, Devin kept going. As I came to work with other autistic teens, I saw many of them even stare in the eye adversity and back down, out of embarrassment or fear. But my friend Devin was bigger than this. Like the boy that refused to shake his hand, many kids had made fun of Devin during his life. But Devin’s attitude was always positive, and I can’t say enough about how much I admired him. People like Devin often do lose in life, more than me, and more than many of you. But their ability to move past that with persistence and positivity make them the biggest winners of all.

Cookies on the Line

Quick tidbit I wanted to share that totally brightened my day:

At work, I bought cookies for the kids. I let them have two, which most kids were completely fine with. Except for Joe. Oh, Joe. He's such a cute and fun kid...he's a second grader, red hair, with a crazy love for food and a whole lot of sass.

He asked for another cookie (a third) after having devoured the previous cookies in a bite and a half. When I told him no, he rolled his eyes, and immediately started complaining, pointing out that there was enough left for him to have another. He continued to keep pestering me on the issue, with his determined, unrelenting nature I see so often (especially if there's any sweets involved). Finally, after what seemed like the 32nd time he had said "but why not?" I retorted with "NO JOE. Life's tough, isn't it?"

He slammed back in his chair, crossed his chubby little arms, sighed, and said "Yeah, especially when there's delicious cookies on the line".

I had to laugh. Truer words were never spoken.

22 days away

My date to defend my thesis is officially set: March 28th. My mom is coming out to see me present, which I am incredibly happy about. It will mean a lot to have her there. She'll get to meet my professor, help calm me down the night before as I freak out and see all my work come to fruition. I couldn't be happier.

I'm frantically scrambling to finish it...and hope that it will be totally completed by this Friday. Ok, or maybe Saturday.

While it is exciting that the end is so near, it is also kind of terrifying. After working on the project for over a year, I feel like it's become such a part of me. What am I going to do without constantly worrying about it? What will my bookshelf look like without the 30 library book I've used for the project? What will I read now that I am not constantly engrossed in books with titles such as "European Jewry in the Age of Mercantilism" or "The Anti-Christ in Seventeenth-Century England"?

Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself; after all I still have to relinquish control and call my paper "COMPLETE". And then of course I have the daunting task of squeezing a 50 page paper into a 30 minute speech.

I now understand why it takes people years and years to finish writing a book- the perfectionist in me doesn't want to call it "complete" when I always feel like there's a way I could make it better.

I talk to other people working on their thesis and they are ecstatic of the prospect of being finished. I feel like a nerd, but for me, it's bittersweet. It's like parting with a child (ok, maybe I'm getting a little over-dramatic...) Yes, I'll be so proud to be done, but the process was honestly so fun and rewarding and it's sad that it's coming to an end. I got to work with a professor who I admire and respect so much. I got to work with three other students working on similar projects and get help, support and advice from them. I got to dedicate myself completely to a single project, which is the first time in my academic career that I have been able to do that. I got to research something so fascinating and watch it transform into something I didn't even foresee when I started. My ideas regarding my rabbi, Menasseh ben Israel, and the issue of toleration constantly changed as I researched more and more. Actually my professor told me that one of the things he admires most about me is my ability to always question my thoughts in this project. I'm open minded, and not afraid to changing routes. When I started the project, I planned on arguing a completely different point. About five book in, I changed my mind and was convinced otherwise. From there on I constantly tweaked my stance as I researched more and more. Which is good; learning should do that. Learning should allow you to question yourself and your preconceived notions. And this process simply reinforced that belief.

I'm sure I'll post when it's completed and submitted. If anyone is interested, I would love for you to read it. Again, it's not light reading so to speak (it weighs in at approximately 50 pages) but I'm proud of it, and would love the opportunity for others to see it, and see what a years worth of work has resulted in. Anyways, I obviously won't be posting it here (it's over 12,000 words, and I'm pretty sure blogger wouldn't allow it in a single post) but let me know and I'd be ecstatic to email it to anyone and everyone.

Pit Bulls

Annals of Public Policy: Troublemakers: newyorker.com

I love pit bulls. Many of my friends and family try to fight me on this, but I am positive that I will have one once I move into my own place. For those of you who have engaged in conversation with me about them, I often equate pit bull "breed-ism" to racism.

Here is an article I stumbled upon from the New Yorker that describes, how I feel about the issue, almost to a tee. I encourage you all to read it as well (with an open mind!)

The Shrinking Bucket List

I have a bucket list; a relatively informal one at that. It's not in writing or anything, but instead remains a list of jumbled ideas in the back of my head that I hope to accomplish someday. To share a couple, I hope to publish something, be it a novel or short story, I want to go to Cooperstown, and I want to read every publicly available piece of writing by JD Salinger. Up until last night, learning to play guitar was on that list as well.

Let me explain.

I went on a date (date #2 with a guy whom I've had classes with the past four years). As we were sitting waiting for the movie to start, we were chatting and I stupidly mentioned how I wish I knew how to play the guitar. Well, just my luck, the guy excitedly informed me that he played the guitar, in fact had three at home, and would love to teach me.

GREAT, I thought. Now I get to look like an idiot. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not the most musically adept person. While piano was mediocre at best, flute was an utter disaster. And my singing? It's nothing short of atrocious.

As the movie started, I kept my fingers crossed that he'd forget about his offer. Unfortunately, he didn't, and right after the movie ended he suggested we go learn to play. Unable to renege on my initial excitement regarding learning to play the guitar, I agreed to go attempt it.

Needless to say, I did look pretty stupid for a good hour and a half. Almost immediately, I realized guitar playing was not in my future, and I mentally scratched it from the bucket list. Not only are my hands way too small to comfortably play all the chords, but I was unaware how incredibly painful the strings were (the indents on my poor fingers took hours to go away).

So, I unfortunately (yet very decidedly) abandoned my dream of ever playing the guitar. Turns out, it is totally not for me.

The good news though? I now have plenty of time for the other bucket list items!

Valentine's Day for the Single Ladies of the World

I've never been the hugest Valentine's Day fan. For me, the glamor kind of wore off when the school parties ceased and the 14th became more associated with romance and less to do with unseemly amounts of candy and cartoon cards with funny sayings on them.

Last Valentine's Day I was in a relationship and we did the dinner/flowers/chocolate thing but I honestly can't tell you what the flowers looked like or where we even went to dinner. Pathetically, I'll admit that the highlight of the day last year was watching a documentary on the Discovery Channel; comically titled "Tyrannosaurus Sex". Like the title implies, it pretty much just discussed how dinosaurs mated. The nerd in me found it fascinating.

It was a hard V-day to beat, but this year, I think I beat it.

It started earlier in the week, when my mom started sending me daily Valentine's and an unnecessary, but greatly appreciated, amount of chocolate (which I may or may not have already devoured!) I then got to go to work at my after-school program where we celebrated with cookies, candy and Valentine's themed games.

A couple of hours with some adorable kids put me into fantastic spirits...maybe even TOO good of spirits! While I had planned on studying the night away for my impending individual tax accounting test, a more enticing option surfaced: a date night with my roomie. How could I resist?

So, us two recently single gals headed to the bar...fingers crossed that there was some sort of "scorned, single woman" drink special. Lucky for us, we were greeted with $2.50 margaritas (our favorite drink no less!) After enjoying some fruity, tequila-y goodness, we decided to head to the student union building. As many of you know, we are too cheap to pay for cable and thus have to usually watch our TV shows online a day later. But today we were determined to watch our Monday night guilty pleasure on time. Sure, it meant watching this embarrassingly addictive and trashy reality TV show in the middle of campus amidst hundreds of our peers on the supposed "most romantic" day of the year, but it was a sacrifice we were willing to make.

Luckily, we were able to wrestle the big screen TV away from a group of studying boys just in time. We changed the channel from a college basketball game to- you guessed it- THE BACHELOR.

Sure, we endured some stares. And some laughs. And I'm pretty sure I saw some people point and whisper, "Look at those pathetic girls", but all in all, when the night ended (and Brad FINALLY got rid of Michelle) I couldn't have imagined a more perfect way to spend the day.