In & Of Descending Stairs

Getting To Know Your Professors Pt. 3 of 3

mccleafandrewlzdq — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 23:05:00 +0000

Now, I have discussed not only personal experience, as well as provided some resources that put much of what I say into context. Next, I would like to discuss something that didn’t quite fit in earlier. Not all professors will be willing to form a relationship with students. Many, especially at big research universities, are only concerned with their own research and only teach because they have to. I actually have experienced this many times, and it can be pretty awkward. I advise you, if awkward situations are not something that you enjoy, don’t force a connection that isn’t there.

While I have certainly talked up the benefits of establishing a professional relationship with your professors, I would have to advise you not to force something that isn’t there. If you were to approach a professor after class for clarification about a particular topic, and they briefly answer you and don’t seem too interested in helping you, chances are that this would not be a professor to forage a relationship with. I tend to stick to professors that I know I have a things in common with, or professors that teach classes in my particular department. Since these are the people that I will interact with the most as a student, they have the greatest chance to both see what I am capable of as a student, and offer the most useful feedback for future projects.

As previously stated, don’t force anything. If it’s there, it’s there. If not, oh well. You can always try again some other time. I have experienced dozens of free lunches, and hundreds of wonderful conversations. There is so much that can be taken advantage of in academia, and much of it lies in the hands of the people that teach in it.

Getting to know your professors Pt. 2 of 3

mccleafandrewlzdq — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 22:53:18 +0000

As I previously mentioned, getting to know your professors is an essential part of a more holistic college experience. Dr. Mark Daddona of Clayton University created a wonderful little PDF that quickly covers all of the points that I mentioned, and even expands upon them. While this PDF looks like it was made in the early 1990′s, it still is a powerful affirmation of many of my claims in the previous post. Daddona says that “[y]our professors are more than lecturers and researchers; they have real life experiences to share” (“Know Your Professor Info”). He then goes on to give a detailed check list of other such supporting material and claims. Seeing that Daddona is a professor, I feel that he is a credible source capable of discussing this topic with a high level of authority.

Another contributor to enriching college experience, CollegeBoard (a publishing company that writes guide books for students entering academia) mirrors many of the claims laid out by Daddona. CollegeBoard goes into slightly more detail, and provides a more objective take on student/professor relationships citing many economic exchanges that a student can benefit from (such as knowing how well prepared they are for a particular assignment, networking opportunities, personal motivation; “College Professors – college search resources”).

Personally speaking, when I discovered what was suggested to generate a competitive application for graduate school, I almost fainted. I thought that there was no way I could complete everything that was needed of me in such a short period of time. Then I met Marlen. By the end of my first semester with him, I had completed everything needed to compete with other applicants, and then some. To this date, I have been told by other professors that I am beyond prepared for graduate school. I have my relationship with an instructor to thank for that.

Works Cited

“College Professors – college search resources.” CollegeBoard. N.p., n.d. Web. 19 Oct 2010. .

Daddona, Mark. “Know Your Professor Info.” University Of Pittsburgh School Of Engineering. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Oct 2010. .

Getting to know your professors Pt. 1 of 3

mccleafandrewlzdq — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 16:20:12 +0000

So, first thinks first. This post will focus on my personal experience in getting to know my professors, and the next two subsequent post will look at some studies that have been done as well as provide some sources to back up my claims.

It wasn’t too long ago that I was constantly descending upon Marlen as he sat diligently in his office preforming various actions that I would soon show up and utterly ruin with my incessant visits. I have no remorse for the actions I have taken, quite the opposite actually. Not only did I receive two awesomely grade boosting “A’s”, but I also formed a friendship that has enabled me to take the world of academia head on. While not all professors are as outstanding as our dear beloved Marlen, this should in no way discredit the hard work present in other members of academia. Each of these individuals has worked hard to obtain the position that they hold, and it should be understood that they have an experience that is unique to them.

The truth is, professors are people too. As moldy as some appear, and how bizarrely some of them speak, I promise with everything that I have that professors are actual human beings. As human beings, they desire the company of similarly minded people. Approach your professors after class, see if their interested in getting to know their students (not all of them are), see if you can come in and clarify an idea from class or discuss something more in-depth over lunch sometime. You may be surprised by some of their reactions. Forming professional relationships, and potential personal ones, is key to getting that reference letter filled with rich descriptions of you that graduate schools desire.

If you want to take an economic viewpoint, professors have things that you need (letters of reference, knowledge of a particular topic, academic experience, money for lunch…). In order to obtain these things, all you must do is talk to them and ask. It’s really that easy. As a student who is rapidly approaching graduate school, I have completed things that many graduate students have not, and I have my relationships with my professors to thank for that. I am prepared for graduate school, but is it prepared for me? That I cannot answer, but I can assure you that if you get to know your professors you will be surprised by the opportunities that will present themselves.

Literature: Final Reflective Letter

mccleafandrewlzdq — Tue, 04 May 2010 00:28:11 +0000

Dear Marlen,
I just exhausted the past hour writing you a missive on WordPress only to have it all deleted by a wild and thoroughly accidental click of a mouse. I recanted and recalled many of our times together in such beautiful alliterations and other such rhetorical devices in a manner that could possibly have made James Joyce blush. While my correspondence was certainly no Finnegan’s Wake, it was surely a wondrous piece of literature that, as unfortunate as it is, none shall see ever again. I can scarcely recall the opening lines. It is as if the words that I affluently expressed existed in an environment that I am no longer welcome to explore. I am greatly saddened that this second more philistine approach shall be the one that will, if nothing else goes wrong, grace your inquisitive eyes. It went something like this (?):

Dear Marlen,
I don’t know what I could possibly say to you that I haven’t stated previously. You are like a brother to me in ways that can’t be depicted accurately. When I sit and write these letters over the past year at the various increments that you required them I’ve never been able to accurately articulate my thoughts in a manner that did them, or you for that matter, much justice. By calling you my brother, I am greatly understating the impact that you’ve had on my life. Even to say that I love you, and consider you a part of my family is not even close to being sufficient. You have greatly influenced my life in such a profound manner that I will never be able to articulate. The very feat of thinking of the things that you have provided me with makes my head spin. I know that you will look at this and say that I was in possession of these qualities and abilities before I met you and this statement would certainly be accurate. However, I do not believe that I ever had the capability to express these abilities and qualities prior to the moment I stumbled into your classroom this previous fall. You have this uncanny knack of opening people’s hearts and minds in ways that they never thought possible. While I was no stranger to my astounding academic acrobatics, you where the one that provided me with the stage to perform them on. For this, I could never thank you enough.

That previous paragraph is all that I am able to recreate form that moment of divine, almost ethereal, connection that I garnered in the first crafting of the letter. This was done with a serious effort, which I will certainly reward with cheesecake upon completion of this letter, but that is another matter all together. Sadly some of the previous paragraph may have been slightly out of place, and many of the passages are quite different from the small piece of the original that I can recall but this shall just have to be dealt with in stride. Who knows, maybe the words were not meant to be read. As disheartening as this previous proclamation seems, I find it to become increasingly true as time progresses.

In my advanced age and noble status I have discovered that the only certainty in life is uncertainty. I have also discovered that the only place that sustains life is the in-between. I have also discovered that though my fate is much like that of Oedipus, I too share the cool loving hand of a guide that will wander with me in this world. Who knows, perhaps some splendid travesty was just averted due to the accidental (?) erasure of my epistle to you. I feel that this more complete letter fumbles with the points that I was trying to make and the themes that I was trying to express. You’ve opened a whole world of wonderful and whimsical doors that are waiting to be explored. I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me, and I look forward to returning the favor at some point in my life.

With warm jubilant regards,
Andrew Charles Harkins McCleaf

Blog #24

mccleafandrewlzdq — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 20:10:17 +0000

Prior to reading Middlesex I, for some reason, always thought it wouldn’t be overly difficult to determine whether someone was a man or a woman. Then I read Cal’s story and the story of the gene that traveled all the way from Greece and eventually met it’s match resulting in the confounding inter-sex that was Cal. Now this word “inter-sex” provides an interesting take on the whole situation. An individual in Cal’s position is perfectly described as an “inter-sex” due to his position between the two “standard” genders. On a more personal note, I feel that however an individual presents themselves is representative with the gender that they identify themselves as. This was a more recent development however, and only came about after I learned that an acquaintance of mine was actually a woman dressing and acting in the role of a man. The only reason that I found out was because he told me that I had offended him by talking about penises. Apparently his lack of a penis was what set him off, but I responded: “I don’t know why you’re pointing this out and making it such a big deal. I had no idea that you weren’t a man. You seriously could have just played along and none of us would have been any wiser of the truth. We all thought you were a guy.” Now my retort was a little harsh, but I feel that it was justified. He presented himself as a man, and when I treated him like a man he seemed to be offended. That is a whole other can of worms that should perhaps be left untouched, but this certainly does open the door to discussing Cal. He presents himself as a man, even though Callie pops up form time to time, Cal continues representing himself as a man; therefore I shall consider him a man. That’s how I see it, and I worry little with what biology has served us with. Much like little Ludo in Ma Vie En Rose, I feel that what an individual presents themselves as is what they are. Or to put it another way: It is what it is, and I am what I it.

Poem #29: Freeverse

Who am I, if not what I say I am?
Perhaps what am I is the more important question…

Answering either of these is no simple feat, nor should they underestimated.
The thing is, both of these questions are severely loaded.
Who am I opens up easily into the world of lies and embellishments as well as self-deprecation and narcissism.
What am I appears to be asking you what you do for a living, and since many of us define ourselves by what we do many would simply reply with what their occupation or job is and entails.
Perhaps the best question that really gets to the heart of everything is:
Why am I?

This question asks for reasons, not simply answers.
To the individuals with weak constitutions, this may cause a fainting spell from the plethora of potential possibilities.
Or, they just may simply stammer and stare at the questioner with blank eyes.
Others may yell and jump declaring they like bananas and assert that an angry monkey once picked them for a game of dodge ball while they proceed to preform perilous acts of preposterous pandimonium and declare that there are too many “p’s” in the air.
Still, they will always be one or two whom when asked any of these questions will simply and honestly respond:
“I am me.”

Blog #23

mccleafandrewlzdq — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 03:04:21 +0000

The master of two worlds is something entirely fascinating to me because it implies so much. It implies a sense of accomplishment, a sense of peace and acceptance, and it also implies a higher state of being. To me the master of two worlds exists on a true continuum. This master is one that has grown in every sense of the world. They no longer question as Elliot did whether they dare disturb the universe. It is people like this that I look up to. It is people like this that I truly wish I could be like. I am aware that to some extent I am like them, I just only wish that I didn’t have any of there flaws or shortcomings. The truth is that when a hero attains this status it is almost certain that his power ends with him. This really begs the question of whether or not it is even worth obtaining this status of mastery if it ends with the possessor. I really feel that the answer to that question is a resounding yes, because if I don’t take of this position who else will? If someone else takes up this role, they couldn’t even possibly know what I know. There is a balance here, or a fine line that enables us to question whether we disturb the universe or not with out being a pretentious as Elliot was. Perhaps good old e.e. cummings had the right idea, or for that matter Gloria Stein. They were, including Elliot, all masters of two worlds and even as Whitman suggested closer to God because of the talent that they all possessed. This is not to say though that they are the only ones capable of becoming God. We all possess this ability, and only when we master that binary of the “self” and the “other” are we able to obtain fluidity. So as far as poetry is concerned I wold direct you to the ideas presented in “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Elliot. It can be found at http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html and I also believe that some of it is even in our 101 poems book.

Poem #28: Freeverse

I have grown old. . . .old. . . .older. . . .oldest.
Isn’t it important to know a chair is; as well as how to add and subtract, multiply and divide?
Are all of those as important as a banana, or for that matter truth?
Surely that tree is a tree, but can it be a home?
My how I have grown old.
I am old old old old old old old.
You must tink me od for the way I questin as eye due.
What could I be, but me.
After all I am what I it.

Blog #22

mccleafandrewlzdq — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 02:37:54 +0000

For some reason I always questioned the crossing of the return threshold. I never understood why the hero had to return and re-assimilate with the others around him that he is no longer really wholly a part of anymore. I know the ultimate goal is for the hero to be the master of two worlds and walk away with a great knowledge or truth or item that grants him some such knowledge or truth. I suppose I always liked a lack of completion, or a sense of abandonment. To me the idea that we can learn some great truth and remain in that world is so appealing. I surly can not be the first to wish to deny the return. For me Whitman was one of those people who was truly a master of both worlds. He recognized how to dwell in that liminal state in such a manner that it became effortless. When I really think about this, I get the felling that I’m not yet prepared for it to become effortless. I am the one that worked hard to obtain this truth. What good will it do to others who haven’t experienced what I have? How could it possibly aide them in any way? I suppose that I have known the answer the whole time, and in fact have been trying to return for quite some time and become the master of both worlds, because my story can help people understand my piece of life that exists in this world. They can’t understand anything other than what I present to them. They are also free to reject what I say, and denounce it as lies and slander. Let them. I shall be a liar, a thief, and an outlaw. However because I am those things I shall also be prophet, a giver, and a lover. After all, isn’t love the greatest outlaw of all time? As Tom Robbins put it, can’t we only aide and abet love instead of keeping and making it do what we wish? Sadly, this jumbled series of thoughts are things that fill my troubled head from time to time and I fear that there is no simple solution. Well, in fact the solution is quite simple, it’s just that where I am currently in my life may not be the best time to act upon it. Even stating that infers that now is actually the best time to do such a thing, so I suppose I shall just do it. I will return and attempt to become a master of both worlds now. I will really try to live in that liminal state that Whitman did, as long as it remains practical. Oh boy, here goes nothing.

Poem #27: Freeverse

What is I?
Perhaps it would be better to phrase the question in this manner: “What does I imply?”
Certainly I am not the first to grapple with this question, nor will I be the last.
Those facts aside, what is meant when I is used?
When seriously thought about there is no simple solution.
I is anything and everything.
Does this mean then that I is nothing?
Of course it does, because nothing and everything come hand in hand, like old friends, or peaceful lovers.
How is it then that I understood by everyone whether it is implied or simply said or spoken?
Perhaps the best way to handle this is by tell you how I fell.
I feel that I is me.
I feel that I is you.
I also happen to feel that I is us.
One could say that I feel that I is everything and anything and therefore nothing, but that would surly understate my point.
I believe I to be a wonderful idea capable of being extremely intimate with everything at once without stepping on anyone’s toes.
There is no dispute over a use of the word I, merely explanations if it’s use desires context.
I feel this way.
I feel that way.
I am, I was, I will be, I must be, I, I, I, I, I, I.
In short, I am I.
In long, I am you and you are me, and me is I as well as everything, and therefore nothing.
I just am.

Blog #21

mccleafandrewlzdq — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 23:42:13 +0000

For my final project I will be writing a short story. I will be doing this on my own, but the story will be very similar to the one that was written for blog entry #20. That blog was seriously so much fun to write, that I wish to take another crack at it. I never quite understood how cathartic the whole experience would be, until I undertook it. Something is compelling me to write again, and I am not about to silence that desire. I will have the story relate to the monomyth when appropriate, and will attempt to make the piece of literature possess a queer look at a situation. The fact of the matter is that regardless of how hard I try to steer the story away from monomythic stages, they will still show up.

Poem #26: Haiku

Cold and sweet release
Striking from clouded gray skies
Tumbling slowly.

Blog Entry #20

mccleafandrewlzdq — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 00:26:36 +0000

The last quarter of a decade in my life has been a series of ups and downs, ins and outs, backs and forths, lefts and rights, forwards and reverses, as well as containing a little of the reds, blues, greens and the occasional pinks. I have no idea what the pinks actually are, but I assure you that they were there. After all, it was the last quarter of a decade of MY life, and I, your humble narrator, could not be wrong about what I felt. As I sit writing this, I wish to impart some grandiose idea that will fill your arms and perhaps ears as well with crystals of various sizes and shapes, hues and tones, each more precious than the last. Sadly though I fear that I shall let you down, for the fact of the matter is you are not me. Nor have you ever been. It may appear that all is lost, and this story must end even before it even begins. Thankfully dear readers this is not the case. For I have been you, and have especially been I. But what is I other than a ridiculously head spinning strange loop? In my humble opinion, I is everything. It is me, and because of this very fact it is you. Oh my, how I’ve digressed. It went like this…
“Do you think I can fly?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“No, I mean it. Do you think I can fly?”
“What, like a bird?”
“Yeah, you know. Or like a plane.”
“Of course not”
“Well why not?”
“Because it’s impossible.”
“Well since you seem to be full of answers, who says it’s impossible?”
“Scientists for one, as well as teachers and all the people who’ve stained the pavement when they landed.”
“What if they just all forgot how to?”
“What are you getting at?”
“You mean to tell me that you’ve never stood outside during August and heard the cool summer breeze gently croon in your ear inviting you to dance with the trees?”
“What? Are you being serious?”
“Of course I am. Why would I lie about something as serious as flying?”
“There is so much wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Why don’t you start from the beginning.”
“First off, you said that the wind croons in your ear inviting you to dance with trees. The wind can’t talk.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know. People.”
“Did you ever think that they just aren’t listening?”
“Are you going to let me finish?”
“Yes, my apologies. Proceed.”
“As I was saying, you said that the wind croons in your ear and invites you to come and dance with the trees, which of course if utterly ridiculous, and after that when I asked you if you were being serious you stated: ‘Why would I lie about’ something or another, oh damn it I can’t remember.”
“I would lie about several things, as well as to several people, but never about flying.”
“Why are you hung up about this?”
“It’s something that I’ve been thinking about for awhile now. I just wish I could remember how.”
“If, just for the sake of argument, you could remember. . .”
“To fly.”
“Yes, to fly.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it would really change anything?”
“No. It would change nothing, and because nothing would change so would everything.”
“Now that makes even less sense than that stuff about flying.”
“I really wish you wouldn’t be so negative. When I learn to fly I may just leave you behind.”
“You wouldn’t, because you can’t fly, you never will.”
“Fine. Then, what is keeping me from flying?”
“Physics.”
“Aside from that.”
“Biology.”
“Aside from that.”
“. . .”
“It appears to me that the only think keeping me from flying is you.”
“You can’t be serious right now.”
“I mean it. If I want to fly I can.”
“No you can’t.”
“Yes I can, and more importantly I will.”
“Okay. Let me know when this happens.”

It was hard, but after what seemed to be an agonizing 3 years I indeed remembered how to fly. I can’t tell you how, for it is different for each person, however I can tell you that Douglas Adams got it all wrong. It is not simply falling, but missing the ground. Flying is the feeling that you get as you watch the bumblebees doing arithmetic under a dew filled sky on the shores of that peaceful lake your family drags you to every summer. Flying is that person that no matter how much they practice, they still stink at whatever it is they are trying to do. In the simplest of words flying IS everything. In a series of rather complex words forming a equally complex idea flying is the state that one achieves when they remain absolutely still. It is in this stillness that we are able to fully understand mystery, since it is in everything. So, because mystery is everything; and flying is everything, it can be inferred that if we understand mystery we understand how to fly. That is all I have for you now dear readers. Please do not take these words lightly, run with them over long green muddy fields and jump with all your might. Reach for the sky my dears, together we can make it.

Poem #25: Freeverse

I know that we’ve said enough is enough, but this time I mean it.
I’ve learned something that others have forgotten.
This something happens to be part of everything.
It’s there for everyone, they just ignore it.
I don’t know why I never noticed it before lingering just out of sight.
It’s there with you now, lurking in the spaces that your eyes have forgotten how to reach.
It taunts you as you sleep at night crawling into your ears like a ghost.
This mystery is, to be blunt, nothing special.
It’s only everything.
It’s largely made of nothing.
It’s odd that in everything and nothing there is power.
I assure you though, it’s there.
Now that I have the power to leave, I will.

Blog Entry #19

mccleafandrewlzdq — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 23:38:23 +0000

Flash Fiction is a really short piece of fiction. It typically has a word limit, and that ranges from 300 to 1000 words. I believe that these are loose restrictions, however I may be wrong. I wasn’t really aware of this until I really began looking into this topic for my blog posts, but much of the short stories I read could be considered flash fiction. Upon further investigation I discovered a whole bunch of seriously short pieces of writing. One story known as a 69er is contains only 69 words. That’s pretty tough. No more, no less. Just 69 words to tell your story. This is pretty intense.

I almost wonder if one could actually portray the monomyth in that brief of a story. If so, would it even be any good? After reading through some of these on the internet, I have discovered that many times the author continues the story in another short piece perhaps showing different aspects, though the idea was the same. This seemed to be the idea with the flash fiction that we were given in class. The same story was being reflected differently, down to the presence of the white horses on the yard.

I really feel like that this style of writing is widely accessible by virtually anyone. It’s truly all embracing, and you read through them in seriously 10 to 15 minutes. It’s really that painless. I really like how quickly everything is dealt with, and more often than not these pieces (as far as I’ve seen) many things are left to the reader to interpret. I’ve always loved this lack of closure. I feel like would could all use a lack of closure, it’s much more to real life. So, for the sake of this theme I submit that a perfect poem for this idea is “I Sit And Look Out” by Walt Whitman. In this poem he discusses the terrible and horrible things that he sees as he’s sitting on a hill. However, nothing he mentions is concluded, nothing is done by the narrator of the poem. He remains sitting silent, and looking. It’s also very brief, and could even be considered flash fiction itself. The poem can be found at: http://quotations.about.com/cs/poemlyrics/a/I_Sit_And_Look_.htm

Poem #24: Haiku

Bitter motions start;
Flying by, knowing nothing
I am left alone.