Ant's Eye View

By Annu Subramanian

Being a college freshman sure does hold up a distorted mirror to reality.

I think I’ve lived in a bubble-like vacuum surrounded by a high fence my whole life. Suburban life in San Diego is not exactly “the real world.” College, as I was frequently reminded by my parents and big sister, “is going to be tough, but the best time of your life.” According to all of those campus spokespeople that talked at me during my first few weeks, college is going to strain me but help me realize the person I am. It’s going to teach me to manage my time, money and energies. The twelve episodes of ABC Family’s Greek that I watched before coming here sufficiently forewarned me for the… ahem… joys of frat parties, late nights, and techno playlists on loop.

But really? So far college is nothing like anything anyone told me. I can’t see any other point in our lives when, after trashing our rooms in Thurston and sleeping in until noon, we can be treated to brunch on the Vern and housemaids to clean up our messes. Wow, that sounds even worse in writing than it even is in real life.

Anyway.

Some observations I’ve made as my first semester comes to a close:

1. Everyone is an adviser. In the first three weeks alone, I was offered stress-management advising, nutritional wellness advising, meetings with a GPS adviser (whose role in my personal success was as lost to her as it remains to me), and unsolicited advising on how to use the free weights at the gym from this guy who was really red-faced and sweaty. With all these appointments to meet with advisers, when am I going to have time to actually do my homework, have stress to manage, find time to eat poorly, or achieve personal success?
2. Don’t be gradual in the introduction of your weirdness. Yeah, my favorite food is ice. And I think everything tastes better with ranch on the side. And the fact that it is freezing out does not mean that I will unceremoniously curb-stomp my flip-flops and replace them with boots. And I am currently obsessed with an Icelandic band whose song titles I still can’t pronounce. I know I’m strange. But trying to be “normal” is a feat that it seems all college freshman, myself included, attempt. The best memories I’ve had since coming to school, though, began when my roommates and I stopped being self-conscious and started being silly. The comfort that accompanies allowing our idiosyncrasies to be apparent and then finding people who love us for them is what forging friendships is about.
3. Mexican food in DC = fail. That doesn’t mean I don’t keep trying to find an adequate burrito here (and I’d love suggestions!), but it seems that for now I’ll still be waiting patiently for my return home in order to partake in my other favorite food.

So all that advice was right. College is stressful. And fun. And exhausting. And a new experience everyday. All that forewarning should have prepared me for everything. And yet, I don’t think I was ready for the eagerness that I feel each morning (okay afternoon) when I wake. My classes were fascinating and my professors helpful. My roommates are great and I’ve made some amazing friends. I played in the “snow” for the first time in over a decade. It seems that already, GW is embracing me, and allowing me to carve what I hope is a niche that I can call my own for the next three and a half years.

I’ve begun penning a college experience that is distinctly my own, and I got to realize that all by myself.

Everything Happens for a Reason

It’s hard to believe yet another semester is coming to an end. I feel like it has only been a few weeks since the start of school. It only feels like a few months ago I was a sophomore and a year ago, if that, I was finishing pledging and my first semester of college. It feels like just yesterday I was walking down the grassy path at my high school to receive my diploma and take the first step towards my future. It feels like all of this has happened so fast, but college is almost over. You may argue with me about that, but try to see it this way: I’ll be gone all of next semester, then the summer will fly by, first semester senior year will happen even faster than this semester did, and then I will be taking the first step towards my future, yet again.

It’s hard to believe that everything happens for a reason. It’s hard to believe this because I don’t know what the reasoning is. I know that life changes every day. I know that plans don’t always remain the current plans and often get edited, altered, or deleted from your mind. I know that one day I will know what all the reasons were, but as for now, I don’t know any of it.

It’s hard to believe that I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Yes, I have some ideas, but who ever really knows? I was sitting in the Starbucks in DuPont Circle this weekend, typing my responses for the SMPA195 take home final when a man sat down in the chair adjacent to me and commented on my pink computer case, pink Blackberry case, and bright purple bag. What started as a superficial conversation about the intensity of my accessories turned into something much more interesting.

He was a reporter for the Herald, Wall Street Journal, and the Post. Then he gave it all up for business. He told me this and paused. Then the conversation went in a totally different direction. He began asking me questions about GW, my education and what I plan on doing with an undergraduate degree that will ultimately cost around $250,000, when you include expenses, textbooks, travel costs, mental health, and partying. I gave him the same response I give everyone: I want to go to business school and get into advertising. So he asked me a few questions about my interests, why I want to do that and where I want to go to school. I spitfire responses then kept talking about my plans for the future until I was blue in the face.

It’s just dawning on me now that all of what I said is theoretically bullshit. Since everything happens for a reason (yes, I do truly believe this. After years and years of trying to believe otherwise I simply cant because I always get proved otherwise) the plans I make, career aspirations I have, goals and dreams I plan on achieving are all a waste. What ever will happen will happen, right? I’m not implying that I wont strive for a JD/MBA from NYU or Columbia with a focus in Marketing or Public Relations, but ultimately, my education that costs about the same as a nice house in Virginia isn’t what’s going to get me there. It may help, but ultimately if it’s meant to happen, it will, just like everything else.

So, in the mean time, I’m going to enjoy the three semesters I have left and wait for things to fall into place. After all, that’s all I can do, right?

-Missy S.

The Few, The Stressed, The Long-Distance Daters

Hi. I'm Ashley, and I'm in a long distance relationship. Hi Ashley.

For anyone who has ever been in a long distance relationship- you have my sympathies. My boyfriend studied abroad this semester in Jordan, which is six hours ahead of D.C. time. To make the situation more complicated, we were apart over the summer, as well. I was living in D.C. for a job, and he lived at home in Massachusetts, so I spent the summer flying back and forth. Oh wait there's more- we only started dating in April! That's right- my relationship has lasted nine months, and the past eight of them has been long distance. If there's an award for optimism and patience- they better give it to me.

Since I presume most people have not experienced this type of situation, allow me to vent and list the signs that "You Might Be in a Long Distance Relationship":

• If you have "dates" with your GMail account, you might be in a long distance relationship.
• If you spend prolonged periods of time staring at pictures on Facebook, you might be in a long distance relationship.
• If you are always in a constant countdown until you will see them again, you might be in a long distance relationship.
• If you strangely feel like you should go to sleep because it's nighttime where they are, but it's only 6 p.m. in D.C., you might be in a long distance relationship.
• If you always answer "Restricted" or "Unavailable" calls to your phone because it might be from an international calling card, you might be in a long distance relationship.
• If your brain goes into immediate panic when another female makes any appearance your boyfriend's Facebook, you might be overly paranoid, but you might be in a long distance relationship too.

Hmm I've managed to depress myself, but I'll leave you with one more thing: 9 days left :D

Paper or Plastic?

Either choice you make will cost you five cents come Jan. 1 at drug and grocery stores in the District.

The D.C. City council unanimously voted to pass a bill that requires D.C. businesses that sell either food or alcohol to charge residents who use disposable bags. Mayor Fenty signed the bill in July. The fee, however won't apply to "bags used for newspaper, produce, hardware, frozen foods, plants, bakery items, or prescription drugs," Fenty's administration assures. My question is why this fee isn't being applied to retail stores as well. Many people who can afford to shop at retail stores could probably afford to purchase reusable shopping bags. However, I presume part of the reason could be a shoplifting issue, although I still think the District should either go big or go home with this bag experiment.

There are places that litter comes from other than the grocery and drug store bags. Maybe pollution in the Anacostia River will be reduced by the fee, but I predict that there will be more litter on city streets. Maybe the answer to this problem would be to start a city-wide recycling campaign in conjunction with this bag fee. I am constantly seeing plastic bottles, cardboard boxes, tin cans, and newspapers chucked into the "Trash only" receptacles on campus. How hard is it to throw these items in the recycling bin right beside the trash? I'm sure that this is not just a GW phenomenon...but a city and nationwide one. And what about residents who may not be able to afford this new bag fee, or depend on disposable bags to keep their belongings in? The answer: Fenty's administration has been working with their "Skip the Bag Save the River" campaign to prepare residents by distributing 122,000 reusable bags to seniors and low-income residents. The District Department of the Environment has also partnered with CVS and Safeway to distribute bags to the public. CVS will even reward Extra Care Card users with one dollar per four instances of reusing a bag.

So, this holiday season, it may be a good idea to scratch "reusable shopping bags" onto your wish list underneath "iPhone" or "Northface fleece." Those nickles could really add up next semester.

When I asked my roommate, Christina Carlisi if she had heard about the bag fee, she said that she had no idea.

Just thought I'd give you a head's up.

Watch an ABC 7 newscast here.

-Kimberly Kroll

A Blue Jean Dilemma

The first time I wore skinny jeans I declared that I was never going back. The way they felt, the way they looked, the years older I felt out of my baggier pairs was enough to have me committed for life, ready to pay the $120 plus that come along with a commitment to a good pair of skinny jeans.
A few days ago I opened my drawer of jeans, a drawer that holds 25 pairs to be exact. 25 pairs is a lot of pants. Of the 25 pairs only 5 are skinny jeans, pairs that I just keep rotating whenever I feel like throwing on the old blues. I had a feeling of nostalgia for my old blue jeans, a saw a few Seven brands, Paper Denim & Cloth, Citizens, even some Abercrombie and Fitch jeans from high school, I MISSED them. I got a pair out, luckily they still fit, and they felt GOOD. I thought “screw it” and went into my closet to put the rest of the days outfit together. I didn’t know how. I was so accustomed to the tighter skinnier fit that I didn’t know what to pair with my flared leg, lighter wash, more beat up NON-skinny jean. I couldn’t grab a pair of boots and tuck the legs in or wear a long nice shirt like I would with the skinnys, I really didn’t know HOW to wear them. And, then there is the WHOLE other issue of what shoes to wear with skinny jeans. Sneakers and converse looked way too manly to me, boots would give the impression of a cowgirl, and flats made the jeans drag on the floor as I walked. Finally, I started to feel crazy so I settled on my Tom’s shoes and a t-shirt, it would have to do.
I left to the house and went to photography class. I did feel a little strange but at the same time liberated, my legs could breathe, I recalled memories from those old jeans, and I felt pleased with myself for giving them a shot. When I got home from class my roommate complimented the jeans, “I like those, are they new?” she asked, “You have no idea,” I thought to myself. I then went to the blue jean drawer took out a few more pairs, dusted them off and decided they too would be worn, SOON. Maybe the age old adage is true, you can never go wrong in jeans, skinny or not.

-Tace Samet

Gridlock on Capital Street

Charles Klein

There comes a point in one's political life that he becomes just completely and utterly irritated with the legislative process. Do not let the Schoolhouse Rock video fool you! There is nothing fun nor exciting for that matter about the process. Moreover, if the video was done in scale to the amount of time it takes for a bill to become a law, it would be longer than the Lord of the Rings Trilogy and Titanic combined.

During the year 2008 many promises were made to us by politicians seeking election. One of which was a guarantee made by Barack Obama to introduce health care reform that would solve the problems with Medicare and Medicaid and get our budgets back on track. While Obama has kept his promise by placing health care on the top of his to do list in 2009, the representatives that we believed would help bring such reforms to bear have failed.

The reason that this particular issue is important to me is because my family, like many others in this country, is struggling to meet the financial burdens of having two children in college. I know that I am going to the most expensive school in the nation (as is my sister) and I am truly thankful for the opportunity that has been offered to me by George Washington University. My father just recently spent five and a half weeks in the hospital due to issues concerning his kidneys and blood pressure. The reason that he fell into such a state of disrepair that he required a hospital stay is because he could no longer afford the prescriptions that he needed to take in order to keep his blood pressure under control. He did not qualify for any disabilities nor is he currently eligible for Medicare, and without a job he has no health insurance.

Watching how the country has taken to the idea of a public option has sickened me. I know that there was a healthy minority of folks that did not like Obama nor did they support his domestic agenda. What surprises me so much is that the Democrats/people who did vote for Obama now seem to be hypercritical of the policies they voted him and their representatives to enact in office. The fact that the Democrats reaching a broad agreement on health care reform is newsworthy illustrates exactly what I am talking about.

Aside from the effectiveness of state run media in Europe, there yet more things that Americans may learn from our comrades across the Atlantic. John Oliver, while speaking at the Economist event that was held at the Jack Morton Auditorium last weekend, referred to Britain's National Health Service as their "n" word. He remarked that they get to use it, but its a dirty phrase for any American politician to say. An idea that ought to be more morally repugnant is how in the wealthiest and best country on Earth so many of its citizens cannot get the health care they need in order to survive.

Such a moral imperative for action has yet to result in much of anything in the gridlock that has become our legislature. Even with a filibuster-proof majority in the Senate and a sweeping majority in the House, those who free rode on the promise of change we can believe in have failed to deliver one of their major campaign promises. I remember thinking on November 5, 2009, now I will be able to be proud of the things the government I elected into office will do for me. Instead now a year later I could not feel much more pessimistic about the process.

I certainly hope that health care reform gets passed and every citizen of our great nation will be able to get the care they need. For now I will have to accept the small gains of having a leader who does not say things like, "Rarely is the question asked: is our children learning."

"The Best Four Years of My Life"

Ever since I can remember adults have ALWAYS talked extensively about "the best four years of their lives" aka COLLEGE. I went to a prep school growing up that was very college oriented and looked forward to the experience that I would soon come to know as "the best four years of my life". I had two older sisters ahead of me, one who went to Connecticut College in New London and the other who was in The School of Foreign Service at Georgeton University. I visited both of them and was enamoured by things that I saw. They had tons of events to attend such as football and basketball games. They had a myriad of parties to go to on all different nights of the week. They made their schedules so they could have three day weekends every week. But mostly, I was estatic by the fact that I would be surrounded by boys. I started at an all girls school in Kindergarten and had been there my entire life. Don't get me wrong, I am in love with my high school and would not have done it any other way. But, I definitely could not wait to be introduced to a world of boys beyond just the weekends but actually be able to debate with them during classes.

As I finally reached my senior year of high school, it was time for me to decide where I wanted to apply. I put all my eggs in one basket and applied early to GW. I knew I had a better chance of getting in as an early applicant and I wanted to be in Washington D.C.. The day I received an email from them I sat quietly in my room and opened it. My fate was decided in this email and I had nerves flowing in all directions in my body. When I read "Congratulations" I didn't need to read further before I started jumping up and down screaming. My mom and brother rushed into my bedroom and we jumped in a circle for 5 minutes expressing the joy of finally getting into college, an achievement I had been working toward for my entire life.

But as I sit here, almost finished my second semester of senior year, I am happy to say that these were not the best four years of my life. In fact, it took me a year and a half to even begin liking this place. I know a lot of that has to do with the fact that I grew up in an area that is different from most. Many of my new peers at this school told me they had no intentions of going back to their hometown after graduating college, something I have intended to do and still plan on doing since I was in the middle school. I have for sure made some of the best friends ever here in college and have had some of the most amazing experiences, but what kind of life would I be living if the best four years are soon to be over? I loved my childhood but I couldn't wait to move onto college. I love college but I cannot wait to see what my future holds. I think life is meant to be full of many different experiences. I think that if you pinpoint one point of your life and say those will be your best years, then you are preventing yourself from having tons of different amazing experiences.

Last week I started training at a potential internship with BBC. After the first day of only being there for four hours, I could not wipe a smile off my face. I called everyone in my phone book on my way back so excited to tell them of the amazing four hours I had just experienced. I went back again another day that week and once again left with an incredible excitement. It made me realize that college has given me the ability to find my passion which is writing. I love to write and have only expanded on my skills since I have been here. BBC offers a look into broadcast journalism. If I had never gone to GW there's a good chance I would never have become so interested in journalism and therefore would not have been able to explore the many options that journalism holds. I am in the process of applying to jobs for next year and each time I read a job description that entices me I become more excited for what is in store for after graduation. I feel that each stage in my life is a stepping stone for the next. I hope you agree with me that while college is INCREDIBLE and there will be a plethora of things that I will miss here, I know that my journey only continues and for that I am overjoyed.

-Justine Karp

The end to a long semester... a stream of consciousness post

In a little over an hour, I will be taking my last exam of the semester. While I am thrilled to be done with schoolwork until January, the thought of entering into my second semester of junior year is frightening. Two and a half years of college has flown by so fast. 

Watching many of my senior friends begin their job searches makes my stomach churn. I enjoy the bubble of college life, but the end of another semester reminds me that this bubble will one day burst, and I, like everyone else, will have to face the realities of the real world.

But for now, I am going to cram for my impending media law exam, and push the horrible thought of ever leaving the safety of college life out of my brain.

Good luck to everyone on finals.

Emily

Banning Laptops in Class: Why Professors Are Dead Wrong

Although normally averse to citing the GW Hatchet in any form, (my apologies to Emily Cahn) a November 12th front-page story caught my attention. 

In "Professors call laptops a class distraction," writer Madeleine O'Connor reported that some professors have passed sweeping policies banning laptops from their classrooms. Prompting this drastic action is the entirely accurate assumption that students (often in large lecture halls) are engaging in activities other than copious note-taking and listening with rapt attention. Some of these rogue tendencies include, but are not limited to, browsing Facebook, posting on Twitter, checking email, reading blogs etc.  

In the course of the article, one political science professor - Chris Deering - even managed to brag to O'Connor that he is quite keen on detecting when someone isn't giving him their undivided attention. 

"I don't have to be looking at somebody and I can tell that something's going on. My peripheral vision is just fine," he said. 

How impressive and profound. 

I would be compelled to ask: has Deering yet come to the realization that he is a professor of higher education, not some high school teacher stuck supervising snotty kids in fourth period study hall? This type of absurd fascism, where teachers are obsessively breathing down the necks of their pupils and handing out hall passes so that they may go use a toilet, is reserved for lower rungs of American education, not prestigious universities. 

This is barely a complex issue. In sum, if a college student (who was presumably admitted on some notion of academic merit) wants to wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and arrive at a 9:35 a.m. lecture all with the intention of "screwing off" and failing to take adequate notes, then that's their prerogative. When that individual receives a well-deserved D+ on the midterm for a total lack of initiative, they have nobody to blame and no tenable logic to rely on. 

One of the great things about America is that we live in a free society where laziness is not rewarded; the shrewd and the driven are the ones that lead and achieve. How are we supposed to prepare individuals for the real, working world if we shamefully and constantly infantilize them? 

And finally, in response to the often utilized assertion that laptop use is "distracting and unfair" to the students that are actually determined to learn and receive their true tuition's worth? Simple nonsense. Not I - nor any friend or acquaintance with whom I have ever shared a course - has ever been significantly impacted by a fellow student's in-class laptop shenanigans. If anything, they benefit from it. After all, in a lecture of 200, that's one less number to compete with...

- Jared Pliner 

Vitamin D: Good for the Body and the Soul

The last year has brought some of the hardest moments of my entire life. Both of my grandfathers passed away close to or during finals of both semesters last year. Coming back to school, I couldn’t get into the groove of things. Even though I was surrounded by a wonderful support group of friends, I felt alone. I didn’t want to go to class. I felt anxious all the time. I was literally sick for six weeks. And some of my grades are suffering as a result. I even ended up withdrawing from one of my classes. One day, I realized that I wasn’t going to magically get better. I started going to the University Counseling Center, which was very helpful in getting me to at least acknowledge my problems—I couldn’t run away from them anymore, I had to cope.

On a slightly different note, my Granny is a health nut. She used to run weight loss clinics across the country and constantly tries to shove all sorts of natural vitamins, extracts, minerals, and oils down my throat. She had been seeing a lot recently about the benefits of Vitamin D in various articles and shows. Aside from building bone strength, it actually can increase your serotonin levels, mimicking the effects of many antidepressants. She knew about the trouble I had been having, and like a good grandma, she sent some to me in the mail.

For an assignment in a different class I had to create my own website. I decided to do some further research on this whole Vitamin D and depression business and turned up some really interesting information. For all the specifics you should check out http://www.ashleynorred.com/.

Despite everything she told me and everything I found, I haven’t started taking the Vitamin D, so I can’t actually tell you if it works or not. But as I mention on my website, I think what most students are missing is a purely fun, non-school related hobby. GW is full of some of the most career oriented students I have ever seen, and I think everyone could use a chill pill. On my website, I mention the fact that I went and bought some painting supplies. That was the first step, and it took me a while to actually sit down and paint. But this weekend that’s exactly what I did. I sat on the ground for 7 hours and just created something. It didn’t have a deep meaning. And I didn’t finish what I was trying to do. But it felt good to not worry about anything else and simply focus all my energy on something I thoroughly enjoyed.

-Ashley Norred

Friday Mornin' Platanos and Collard Greens - By Kori Clanton

I left behind the institutionalized halls of my college dorm room this morning in search of culture. Walking along the brick lines sidewalks headed to the Foggy Bottom metro stop, I hopped the blue line in need of a wash and set from Giovanni's; a small Dominican salon nestled amongst the culturally rich street of Adams Morgan. This salon attracts female students from all over the District who are trying to maintain the "flow" and the little cash they have in their wallets.

On Friday mornings I head to this place to reclaim my sanity and revitalize my tresses. Echoes of Spanish talk shows and afternoon novellas compete with the drone of dryers, each hovering over the head of a woman with gigantic rollers and a black net scarf securely holding them in place. Today, like most days the salon is full of women whose skin tones all reflect a common ancestry, but whose ethnicities are as varied as the restaurants that line the streets outside.

"Senorita!"

Sylvia, my middle-aged Dominican hair stylist, calls for my attention and directs me towards the sinks in the back of the salon. I can't help but feel simultaneously included and excluded at the recognition of her call. Our commonalities only reach so far, and our limited knowledge of each other's languages prevents us from sharing in a conversation of either.Yet, I accept this proverbial name and her warm smile as a welcoming sign of affection.

Earlier I waited in the gray chairs lined up against the front window of the shop and contemplated which magazine to read. A small but incredibly bright young girl sat beside me in her grandmother's arms chatting and laughing as if she were twice her age. Her grandmother, identifiably a black woman, exchanged laughter with bits of knowledge about everything from the construction taking place outside, to telling her how to sit like a "big girl" in the chair. I looked past the fairness of her girlish skin in comparison to her grandmother's dark brown hue, until Spanish words flowed with ease from her small lips. Grandma didn't quite catch on as her granddaughter proceeded to flip the script and teach her a word or two. I gave up fumbling through wrinkled pages of an old Vibe magazine wondering if this little girl was Black, Latina, or a combination of the two. Deep inside I questioned why it even mattered to me. I heard her scream out "Mommy!" as a tall Hispanic woman walked in her direction smiling with open arms. At once, it all seemed to make sense that she was a combination of both; child who bore the history and heritage of two minority groups.

Sitting there as a black woman, I understand the society that she will soon face. Would she grow up considering herself Black, Latina, or simply feel comfortable in being her? My thoughts occupied a realm she'd yet to consider. For now her age maintained her innocence in a society that will soon enough ask her to choose sides, check a 'box', and negotiate her place in the social construction that is, race... I walked away wishing she'd never have to. But reality often ignored our desires, existing within a mind of its own.