Monthly Archives: January 2013

For my group’s particular Political Communication and Deliberation chapter, “Deliberative Communities and Societies”, the main points of interest are that such communities must feature a leader who encourages the participation of citizens, a prominent social network and sense of public trust, and ultimately, participation in deliberation as a part of the popular culture or education.  The chapter also makes a point to show how smaller communities can still have an effect on larger community bases.

For my group’s presentation of Chapter 8, I think it would be interesting to create a sort of “mock society” out of our class.  After a couple minutes of introducing the main points of the chapter and tying it to class concepts, we could ask (in true democratic fashion” for students to vote on a leader who “serves as articulate spokespersons for the community but also are capable of empowering their fellow community members to discover and contribute their own voices” (Gastil, 219).  We then could present a civil issue to the “community” and prompt a deliberative discussion, guiding them and highlighting certain attributes and necessities in order to maintain a status of “deliberative society”.  In order to hold interest effectively, this civic issue should probably be one that pertains to the “community” we created – aka one that pertains to freshman Penn State Schreyer students.

I see middle school as a mental test designed by sadists who want to offer kids their first big challenge in life. All children who have tasted the glory of ruling the school in fifth grade must eventually be subjected to the cold, marbled floors of the middle school halls that teem with adolescents and insecurity.  In defense, my quiet seventh grade self found an odd solace in perfectionism, tenaciously grabbing onto some Rule Book of Expectations. Though praised by many for excelling, I somehow slipped and fell into a mindset of no mercy towards myself, no grace.  But, after all, it can be hard to find mercy and grace in a place that doesn’t even allow you chewing gum.

I am a small-framed girl.  I always have been – I have metabolic genes worthy of envy. I would have been fine – I wouldn’t have caused such a fuss – had I just left it alone.  Instead, I tampered with nature.  Soon it was doctor’s visits to get blood tests I already secretly knew would turn out normal, but still I left them to wonder to themselves: is there something wrong, a thyroid problem?  As expected, blood levels were normal – but my other number was still dropping. Eventually, they had me document in a small navy notebook everything I passed through my lipsfor a nutritionist’s consultation. I never told them it was on purpose; I still don’t know how long it took them to catch on. I myself never voiced the truth. You see, there’s less shame in blaming faulty machinery. I was no more than 13 years old.

My personal, most effective therapy came in the form of a summer morning in North Park after a year of some increased normalcy, when a friend asked me to accompany her to the first high school cross country practice.  Before the summer of 2008, I was not a runner. Not even close.  I had no relationship with running shoes, colorful spandex, pace charts, split times.  I had no familiarity with the clickety-clack of spike to pavement, the ignition of fire in muscle eclipsed by a euphoria of experiencing the world rushing by through heightened senses. I didn’t yet understand the dynamic sounds and exhilarations of swallowing up distance. Didn’t realize the peace and healing of cadenced breathing, trampled grass and dirt, or seas of gazelle legs.

I didn’t know clarity.

I didn’t know confidence, freedom.

For this reason, I believe in running away from my problems. My love affair with running embodies everything that I have gained when I began to see my body in light of what it could do rather than how it could look. I began to nurture and respect it as the physical home I have been lent to utilize for all of life’s endeavors – like a rejuvenating, therapeutic run among the trees.

When Sarah first was introducing the Civic Issues blog during class on Tuesday, I knew from the beginning that the topic of Education would be the most appealing to me.  My last semester projects were very gender/women oriented, and while that of course interests me, it’s certainly time to expand my research and knowledge of another topic of interest.  While I myself, as a Biology major, am not specializing in education, I am a student and therefore the topic does directly pertain to my life.  Moreover, my best friend and older brother are both in education and have strong ideas of how they believe the whole system should run; as a result, I have often found myself amidst conversations about our country’s blueprint for how its people make their most important investment for their future: their education.  Unfortunately, though, I have never been able to aptly contribute to such conversations. And this is frustrating.

Above all, developing a well-rounded awareness of issues in education is the main goal of my choice.  As mentioned before, I don’t really have very strong opinions on the issue going in to this Civic Issues blog, but I do hope to come out with my own (and well-supported) view.  Perhaps, though, a downside to approaching a blog on Education is a sense of bias as a student of a state school as well as a product of a largely well-known, successful, affluent high school. Throughout this Civic Issues project, I will have to make a point of forming my opinions and offering my thoughts in light of all different types of people’s experiences in education, rather than my own, relatively easy background with school.

Lastly, some food for thought.  My senior year, my incredibly well-liked AP Psychology teacher, Mr. Schall (Penn State grad and previous varsity volleyball star, might I add) showed my class this video during our Developmental Psychology unit. Enjoy!