Verbal Snippets & Snapshots

When I originally started brainstorming this blog entry almost two weeks ago, I initially was in a “looking back” mood for three reasons: (1) the Fall 2009 semester had just ended, (2) the year 2009–as well as a decade–was coming to a close, and (3) I had just finished writing a draft of my senior reflection for this year’s “Insider’s Guide.” (Just so you know, the “Insider’s Guide” is a publication that we student volunteers for Hopkins Interactive produce in the spring for admitted students who attend our admitted students open houses; the Spring 2010 publication will be our third annual one, so make sure you grab a copy if you end up getting admitted and visiting Hopkins!)

I’m still in a “looking back” mood for the three reasons–and now, there’s also a fourth reason: a family emergency that led my family and me to fly across the country from Connecticut to California and visit our relatives there. I usually avoid discussing my personal life on this blog aside from social events that I experience with my friends, but I will say that I attended the funeral of my paternal grandmother on New Year’s Eve. It was tough for many reasons that I won’t discuss here. There also were other family issues (practical, emotional, and so on) that needed to be resolved, and those were difficult in their own right as well.

As I’ve already mentioned, I won’t discuss the details; however, I will say that the series of events that I just mentioned made me quite contemplative. For one thing, I was thinking about the events themselves. I also ended up thinking about how this wasn’t the first time that I’ve had to deal with a loss in the family–and how during every year in college, I’ve had to deal with a loss in the family, with each loss being tough. There also have been other downs that my family and I have experienced during my college years such as hospitalizations of loved ones, among other things on which I won’t elaborate–and the funny thing is that before I went to college, I didn’t experience these kinds of events. Family members had died before I started my college years, but they were distant relatives; family members have gotten injured or become sick, but not to the magnitude that I’ve witnessed during the past four years. I know that this timing is all a coincidence, since different families experience different milestones at different times; nonetheless, experiencing these kinds of occurrences with my loved ones all while I’ve been in college has been one major factor in why I’ve come to view college as a large learning experience for me.

When I attended the funeral of my maternal grandmother in the Philippines, I was a four-year-old toddler. The only memory I had of my grandmother was wishing her a happy birthday on the telephone. I still have that memory, but I don’t even remember my maternal grandmother’s voice anymore. Thus, I felt sad at her funeral more for the sake of my mother, my aunts and uncles, and the other adults around me who were sobbing profusely. I was a four-year-old–seeing sadness around me was enough to be overwhelming! Meanwhile, staying with my relatives during the days following the funeral were like one pleasant vacation. Everything was perfect in my eyes. I was on the other side of the world in a tropical climate with my family and many doting relatives; of course my little toddler self was happy!

Nearly two decades later, I attended the funeral of a grandmother with whom I’d had many years of interaction; I had seen and communicated with my paternal grandmother through visits, phone calls, letters, and greeting cards. While I certainly enjoyed the times I was able to spend bonding with my relatives after the funeral, I also was old enough to notice and understand that families aren’t perfect and that mine was no exception. There were good times, and there were bad times during the days that followed. Instead of perfection, there was bittersweetness.

What happened over those two decades? Kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school, and–of course–college. I know that the first four phases mentioned did do a lot to contribute to the metamorphosis from the small four-year-old girl I was to the not-as-small-but-still-somewhat-small 21-year-old young woman I am now; however, I think that college has been the most major maturation experience among all five of those phases. As an excerpt from my original draft of my aforementioned senior reflection says, “I stepped foot at Hopkins in late August ’06 as a fresh-faced freshman (as cliché as it sounds, it’s true–compare photos of college students when they’re freshmen versus when they’re seniors) with a set idea of how my college years would go in my ideal world. Sure, some of the things I dreamed of happening did happen. Even more so, though, I had many highs and lows that I didn’t even dream could happen, both inside and outside the classroom.”

Whenever one looks back on the past, he or she ultimately returns to the present. That’s the lesson that I learned in high school while slaving away through numerous practice–and actual–”DBQs” (document-based questions) for AP U.S. History and AP European History. That’s the lesson that is repeated numerous times in the news, whenever current events are compared to famous–and obscure–moments from history. That’s the lesson that I’ve come to appreciate as part of the even larger lesson called life.

In looking back on the Fall 2009 semester, I ultimately realized that I have one semester left as a college undergraduate. I may be planning to attend graduate school for a master’s degree and medical school for a professional degree in the future, but those years will never be quite the same as these four years that have passed. In looking back on the past calendar year, I reflected on the mistakes and triumphs that I made as a second-semester college junior and first-semester college senior–which, once again, brought me back to the present, as I resolve to work on avoiding the mistakes I made in the past. In looking back on the past decade, I relived memories of middle school, high school, and college–including the painful and embarrassing ones, but also the wonderful ones. Those memories–both the good and the bad–have made me glad to be living in the present; while the “old days” were simpler, I like having the additional insight that I have now compared to previous years. (I hope I continue to have this opinion as I grow older!) In looking back over my college years because of my senior reflection, I had to think about my current status as a college senior. Last, but not least, in looking back at the recent events that I’ve shared with my immediate and extended family, I’ve done a lot of thinking about the interactions with the people whose flesh and blood I share–and, therefore, who are very much like me whether I like it or not. For better or for worse, they have played a large role in helping shape the person I am today.

I have a reputation among my family and my friends to be an energetic and peppy person, and I don’t mind that reputation. At the same time, however, I also enjoy my fair share of contemplation. (After all, a scholar–even a fledgling scholar such as a Hopkins undergraduate–needs to have thinking abilities, eh?) I hope that if readers of this blog entry glean a lesson from this lengthy piece of writing, it’s this: think! The 21st century is certainly a busy-busy-busy era in human history (and I’m pretty sure I’m a contributor to that trend), but set aside time to think about, meditate on, contemplate about, or chew on whatever suits your fancy. It could be a relatively trivial issue or a deeper matter. Draw connections. Exercise your mind. At the very least, it would only serve as an innocuous mental exercise; at most, taking time to think about matters that intrigue you can help you realize things about yourself. And yes, even if history isn’t your favorite subject, there are merits to looking back on it and reflecting on it.

That is all for now.

N.B. Because of the reflective mood of this entry, I decided to upload photos of nature that I had taken. The top photo is of a flower from my family’s backyard in Connecticut; the second and third photos are from a park in central New Jersey that my family, maternal relatives, family friends, and I have visited on several summers; and the fourth photo is from a trip to Lake Tahoe that I took with my family and paternal relatives.

I mentioned in my previous blog entry that I was thinking of writing this entry about my classes, but I’ve decided to write this blog entry about a common theme that I’ve observed so far during this senior year: uncertainty about the future. The title of this blog entry is an English translation of the Ilocano proverb, “Ita ken dica pay laeng di ammo ti mapagpagteng.”

It’s so true.

As fall semester freshmen, my (then) newfound friends and I weren’t sure about our futures, either; however, we had dreams about what we wanted to do during our four college years and in the years afterwards. Three years later, the events of most of our college days have already been set in stone, and the days until graduation are starting to tick down. For some of us, the dreams we had back then have been replaced by new ones; for others among us, we still have the same dreams, but we’ve realized that we might need to achieve them by different means than we once had envisioned.

On a more practical note, we’re experiencing that dreadful feeling that many of us last experienced four years ago as high school seniors: not knowing what the answer to “Where will you be next year?” is. For three years, we knew that after the summer vacation, we’d spend the following autumn back at Hopkins as college students (or at a study abroad program, but still as college students from Hopkins). This year, however, we don’t have the cozy certainty of having that kind of knowledge. Furthermore, not knowing where we’ll be in one year might be an even more frightening idea for some of us than it was when we were high school seniors. Since we’ll be armed with bachelor’s degrees come May, we have many more options from which to choose for next year: jobs as careers, jobs as temporary stepping stones before graduate/law/medical school, graduate school, law school, medical school, volunteerism…

Personally, I find myself slightly panicking on some days. I know that I’m pre-med, and I know that I’d like to obtain a master’s degree before matriculating into medical school; however, I find myself worrying about the graduate school application process like the way I did as a high school senior applying to colleges. How do I narrow down to which master’s programs to apply? What are those programs’ application requirements? Will I get into the ones to which I’ll apply? Et cetera. (I wouldn’t be surprised if those questions are also playing in the heads of seniors who are applying to jobs, law schools, or medical schools. Applications are innately stressful.)

Probably for the preservation of my own sanity, however, I find myself coolly thinking about what I need to do this year in preparation for determining where I’ll be next year–and feeling confident that somehow, no matter what will happen, I’ll figure out a way to make the most out of the circumstances.

Besides, I’m still a college senior–and I still have homework assignments to complete and exams for which to study. With that said, I’ll end this blog entry and return to my books! Later.

N.B. In case you’re not already familiar with it, the image at the top is of Auguste Rodin’s statue The Thinker.

I don’t know how many times I’ve been asked that question during the two weeks in which I’ve been back at Hopkins. Speaking of the last two weeks, they’ve been quite busy for me–so busy that I’m surprised everything that has happened so far has occurred in only two weeks! In case you’re curious, here are just some of them (in no particular order): classes, research, meetings for work and extracurricular activities, interacting with parents of freshmen at Orientation 2009 events as a Family Ambassador, ballet rehearsals, settling into my apartment (I’m living in a different apartment this year than I did in my junior year), and more.

Oh yeah, I’ve also had to answer these questions several times over the past few weeks: “How does it feel to be a senior?” (as I’ve just mentioned), “Do you know what you’re doing next year?”, and “Are you excited that this is your last year at Hopkins?”

The second and third questions are the easiest to answer. First of all, I don’t know what I’m doing next year. I know what I’m hoping to do next year (i.e., start a master’s program in either biology, neuroscience, public health, or a similar field that’s heavily oriented in the natural sciences and that would include research in addition to classroom work). Still, given that the type of master’s programs that I’m currently considering won’t release decisions until the end of next spring (or, in some cases, even next summer) and considering the current state of the economy, I don’t know what I’m doing next year. As for whether I’m excited that this is my last year at Hopkins? Yes, I am. It’s not because I hate Hopkins; rather, I love the “home stretch” (or “final lap”) feeling of a “last something” in general–including the last year of my undergraduate experience.

But, “How does it feel to be a senior?” That question has a complicated answer. For one thing, I’m only beginning my senior year. For another thing, thinking about the fact that I’m in my senior year elicits a lot of thoughts and emotions–and not just excitement. I also feel a bit old, but that emotion is only in a relative sense–this feeling mostly occurs whenever I’m around freshmen. (In the real world, of course, I’m still on the young side!) I feel nostalgic, knowing that a lot of the things I’m doing are among my “lasts” at Hopkins. I feel a bit overwhelmed at the fact that I have to spend this year planning out my next stage of life–and that, as I’ve already mentioned, it will be several months until I’ll know for certain the nature of my next stage of life. I feel reflective: I often look back at the previous three years I spent at Hopkins to think about what I enjoyed, what I disliked, what I wished I did differently, and so on. I feel resolved, because I have several academic, extracurricular, and personal goals that I really want to meet before I graduate. I feel appreciative: knowing that it’s my last year at Hopkins makes me take a second look at the buildings I pass by every day, treasure the times I spend with my friends even more than before, and even revel in the feeling of sitting in a lecture hall.

This is just the beginning of my senior year, but that list doesn’t cover everything about how I feel to be a senior. I know these feelings–and many more–will only intensify and multiply over the next nine months, as I prepare for my graduation in May 2010.

It’s been said that a person’s college experience is like a roller coaster ride–but I already have a feeling that senior year will be like an insane roller coaster ride, especially with the emotions factor. It’s time to brace myself for it.