Cross Country Snow Reflection

I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed reading the Nick Adams stories. I fully expected to struggle with Hemingway's iceberg technique and not be able to understand what was going on in each of the stories. One of the stories in particular made me think the most and that was Cross Country Snow.

Being a story that is about taking responsibility and truly becoming a man, the story hit close to home with me because I feel like I am so close to have to do that on my own. I am sure it wasn't just me feeling this as well. Most of us are going to have to go out into the real world and get jobs and become contributing members of society in the near future. This, like most of the Nick Adams stories, was definitely a coming of age story. Something that completely reflects my life today.

This story also seemed to be more frank about what the reader was supposed to take away from it. Hemingway tends to leave out all of the details and descriptors that would make solving the puzzle to the moral of the story easy, and instead he makes the reader work for it. This story however seemed to be easier to grasp the moral than most.

Meeting Number 4: The Final Meeting

Mansour and I met for the final time today. After a full semester including 3 failed meetings,  and 3 good meetings, we reached the end of the semester. Obviously I did not get to meet with Mansour for the full eight times and I am kind of disappointed. Unfortunately I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. We met the first time at the end of September and everything was looking great. Then Mansour didn't respond to my emails for a good three weeks. Finally we had three meetings that were scheduled but Mansour didn't show up for, strange but I guess we had miscommunication.

Regardless, our last meeting went great. We talked about what each of us did over thanksgiving break and agreed wholeheartedly that the break was too short. He told me about the turkey he had cooked himself, it was the first time he had ever had turkey.

We also got on a random tangent of the Internet and the differences between here and Saudi Arabia. I was very interested in this because I spend so much time on the Internet. Mansour told me that the government in Saudi Arabia has certain sites blocked for the entire country, for example adult content and anti-government blogs. I found this interesting because it causes the citizens of Saudi Arabia to only use the Internet in sparing fashions because it is so limited. I, on the other hand, have a completely different view of the Internet. Yes, there are sites out there that are explicit in nature, but I see the Internet as a bridge to success that has never been there before. With the computer access in the US, just about anyone can start a company on the web and be on the road to success for a low barrier to entry cost. Needless to say I was a little disappointed when Mansour explained how limited the Internet is in Saudi Arabia.

Mansour and I also discussed how different the education experience is here. In Saudi Arabia, you can learn as well from the textbook as you can from the professor. Here, the classes are much more interactive and less lecture. Mansour told me that his plans to get a degree from a university in the US was a daunting task because of how much harder the schooling is over here.

Overall I felt that I had a great experience meeting with Mansour. I wish that we could have met more often and that we hadn't had so many issues scheduling meetings but I'm glad we got to meet at least four times. Mansour is a great guy and I wish him the best of luck.

The Man Who Was Almost a Man

I guess I have something for coming of age stories because "The Man Who Was Almost a Man" by Richard Wright was another story that I really enjoyed this semester. When I was younger, I always looked up to my Dad and wanted to be a man just like him. I would follow behind him while he mowed the lawn pushing my toy lawn mower and when he went to weed eat the grass I would flip over my plastic nine-iron and cut the grass behind him with a buzzing noise from my mouth. I can relate to the main character in this story because I wanted so badly to be grown up that I would do anything to get there. Ironically, I now wish I could go back to the simple times of being a little kid. A time when a piece of string could entertain me for hours.

I like the ending of this story because Dave makes the normal choice but not the expected choice. While that may sound confusing, my point is that in most stories that I have read the main character seems to eventually settle on the "right" answer. In The Man Who Was Almost a Man however, Dave chooses to run from his responsibilities after shooting Jenny the mule.

This was another one of those stories that was true to actual life and not dolled up or anything. Those seem to be the kind of stories that I enjoy most in this class. Stories that I can relate to on a  personal level and that don't seem too farfetched to have actually happened.

Where was I when I heard about 9/11...

Like most kids on September 11th, 2001 I was in school, fourth grade to be exact. At around 8:45 that morning my mom checked me out of school to go to an dentist appointment. As soon as I got in the car my mom told me that something had happened in New York City and that some building had gotten hit by a plane. I had no idea what she was talking about, nor did I know what the world trade center was so I brushed it off and didn't really worry about it.

Once we got to the dentist office and we walked back into the back room where I was going to have my teeth cleaned I caught a glimpse of the news coverage on TV. I saw the second tower get hit live on TV. It was surreal, I couldn't quite understand the magnitude of the situation but as I looked around the room and saw the horror on the faces of adults all around me I figured out quickly that it was serious.

I had a short cleaning and my mom decided to keep me at home for the rest of the day and not send me back to school. I, of course, was ecstatic that I didn't have to go back to school.

I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do all day and I turned the TV on to watch some cartoons. The TV clicked on and the first thing I saw was the news coverage of the towers collapsing. I was completely taken back. There were news anchors speaking and they just kept looping the same clips of video over and over again. My mom and I sat there for most of the morning watching the news and taking it all in. It was surreal.

I understand now that I did not fully grasp the magnitude of this event. I find myself lucky and partially unique because I heard about 9/11 as it was happening. After I went back to school the next day, everyone was talking about the attacks and I found out that most of the teachers in the school didn't even tell there students what was going on and so most kids didn't find out until they got home after school. I can see the reasoning behind that logic, but I partially disagree with the decision to hide it.

My Least Favorite Teacher

In seventh grade I began to realize how easy math was becoming for me. I was finishing all of the homework assignments in class while the teacher was lecturing on the material. When my parents took notice of this they decided that I should get a book for eighth grade math problems to work through once I finished my actual homework. For about half of the year, I went through the same routine every day in math. During the lecture I would finish the homework and then during the homework time I would work problems out of my advanced book. At the end of the year I took a test and ended up skipping eighth grade math all together and going straight into algebra one. It was in algebra one that I encountered my least favorite teacher ever.

Her name was Mrs. Jones, and while she was a nice person I couldn't learn from her at all. Every day that I went into that class I felt frustrated because I couldn't understand the material she was teaching no matter how hard I tried. For the longest time I felt that I was the problem and that I just wasn't smart enough but then I noticed the countless other students that were struggling just as much as I was. We had lengthy homework every night in that class, ranging from forty to fifty problems a night, the worst part was that it was graded for accuracy. At the beginning of every class we would grade the previous night's homework and turn it in.  I remember that I was incredibly frustrated by this because I felt that I shouldn't be penalized for not retaining the information immediately. Almost always, our homework that night was over the new material we had learned in class that day. I don't feel that I had enough time to actually understand the material before I was graded on it.

It took me until nearly winter break before I began to figure out that I simply could not learn from her teaching style. The unfortunate part though, is that she wouldn't teach any other way. It was her way or the highway. I would ask her during class to explain things different ways and she would just repeat what she had said before.

I struggled through that class and it was by far the hardest class I had taken up to that point. She is only my least favorite teacher because she did nothing to help me succeed. The only reason I passed that class was because I went out and learned the material in other ways on my own. She never took the time to even consider that the way she was teaching wasn't working for everyone sitting in her classroom.

A Transitional Event

There I was, a skinny, tall, awkward freshman in high school. It was nearing the end of summer, and I had no idea what I was about to get myself into. The transition to high school was something that I was not looking forward to. Change is not my best friend; in fact change and I don’t like to meet often. Regardless, there I was packing my bag for a 4-day trip, a 4-day trip that would change my life. I was terrified. I was about to embark on the Technical Entertainment Crew’s (TEC) leadership retreat as the only freshman.  I had been asked to go by our faculty advisor, Mr. Poole but I had never really looked at myself as a leader before. I mean I had been a captain on a few sports teams and lead some small school group projects before but nothing that I thought was to extraordinary or exceptional.

I went out on a limb and put my trust in my parents and Mr. Poole and showed up anyways. I didn’t really know anyone and wasn’t quite sure how to act or what to expect. As I arrived at the school that fateful morning I was immediately asked to help finish putting labels on to dividers in the binders that we were going to be given for the week of meetings. I noticed something as I slid those seven labels into 11 different binders. First, these were the tasks we had to complete in the 4 days; second there were nearly 100 pages already there with space for notes, comments and even more notes. I was starting to realize that this might be a bigger deal than I had anticipated.

We went out to the van and loaded up all the gear, TV, duffel bags, backpacks, food, coolers, binders, practically everything you could think of. We all piled into the van, every seat was filled, the gas tank was full, the stuff was packed away and off we went on the 45-minute drive to the lake house that where we would be staying for the weekend.

That weekend I sat in countless hours of meetings, threw the football on a dry lakebed, sat out on a lake dock until the wee hours of the morning and many other things. At the last meeting on the first dayeverything started to click for me, I started to understand more about what was going on. I felt I could take on some responsibility and be a useful member of the organization. I was making friends with many of the people there and was starting to feel the “love” in a way. I was actually able to contribute to the conversation and understand those acronyms that were being thrown about. I noticed something else; I wasn’t using the mirror. Instead I was able to look everyone in the eye and pay attention to the meeting in first person rather than third person.

That night we played a game of Apples to Apples which was a tradition started many officer retreats before the one I went on. It was such a great time. We didn’t even play the game by the rules though, we made up our own rules, going for the funniest responses and just having a good time. I laughed so hard that my stomach felt as if it was going to explode. I was one of the guys; there was no more awkwardness, no more exclusion but now total inclusion. 

That trip was one of the experiences in my life that I will never forget. I know that sounds cliché but its true. There is a good reason for that, sure I made some good friends and had a fun time but little did I know at the time that the entire trajectory of my life had been altered.  Instead of following the path of the typical average high school athlete that I was, I found myself loving other things in life. TEC is the reason for my love of technology, photography, video, and leadership today. All of these are staples in my daily life. I can’t go a day without my iPhone, computer or camera. TEC is the only organization or association that I have ever bled, cried, screamed, or tired for and yet was happy every minute of it. I spent thousands of hours working with and for the Technical Entertainment Crew during high school, I was an officer all 4 of my years and elected president my last 2 years (something that has only been done twice before). I poured all of myself into that organization and got just as much out.
 

A Christmas I Won't Ever Forget

6:30 am: It's the early hours of Christmas day. My brothers and I are gathered in my room counting down the seconds, trying whatever we can to make the time go by faster. Matt is playing cards with Cade and I am sitting on my bed reading a book. 7:00 am is a magical number come Christmas time in the Favaron household, for as long as I can remember this number signified the earliest moment that my brothers and I could wake up my parents to open gifts on Christmas.

6:55 am: As the magical time nears my brothers and I grow anxious. Cade is running around upstairs with so much adrenaline that he can't stop moving. We get ready to knock on our parents bedroom door to wake them up.

7:00 am: The second we see the clock hit 7:00 am we open the door and rush into my parents room. Matt wakes my dad up, I wake my mom up and Cade stands giddy with excitement in the back of the room.

As we head down the stairs the lights are all off, my mom leads the line of children and my dad brings up the rear. Matt and Cade both have huge smiles on their faces. The moment of truth comes, my mom turns to flip on the light and as soon as the room is illuminated I see exactly what I was hoping for. Sitting in a corner of the room is an unwrapped Dell computer. I scream in excitement and run over to see it. It is an amazing desktop computer, monitor, keyboard and mouse and I can't believe it is all mine.

I give each of my parents a hug and thank them for my first computer. I can't wait to turn it on, in fact I set it up right there in the living room. Everyone around me was still opening gifts and I couldn't get beyond my computer.

I don't remember any other gift I received that Christmas. I am sure I loved every single one of them but let's be honest, it would be hard to top a computer. This was a special Christmas for me because looking back I realize that it was the beginning of a long journey to who I am today. Today I love computers and are fascinated with them,  had I not gotten that computer on that day I don't know what my interests would be today.