Simply Serendipitous

What a week it’s been and what a month this will be!  I have my first midterms coming up, I have arbitrarily set my first applications deadline at October 15, and I’m going to New York City for fall break!  But before I go and get ahead of myself, I thought it would be best to take a pause and tell you about my classes this semester.

The side entrance to the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health -- or, as it used to be known and as the building still says, "The School of Hygiene and Public Health."

As a senior Public Health major, my last set of requirements includes taking classes at the Bloomberg School of Public Health (SPH, for short) down on the east Baltimore medical campus.  This is a grad school, all of my classes there are graduate-level, and my classmates are Masters and Doctoral candidates.  So yeah, it’s a little intense.  The SPH is on the quarter system, so this semester I’ll be taking two different sets of classes down there.  Although it’s intimidating at first, it’s such a great opportunity to be learning alongside physicians, nurses, social workers, international students, and fellow public health seniors.

And since I’m applying to law school, working more hours, and taking on different activities, I decided to cap myself at four classes.  I wanted to be able to put a lot into all of them and felt like taking the normal five would be too much with everything else I have going on.  To be honest, there are days/weeks when four feels like too many, but it’s a great lesson in time management.

That said, here’s the lineup:

On the Homewood campus, for the entire semester, I’ll be taking The Constitution and Criminal Justice System and Economics of Health.  My first term classes down at the SPH are Life and Death in Charm City: History of Public Health in Baltimore and Social and Economic Aspects of Human Fertility.  It’s been a great semester so far and I feel like I’ve already gained a lot from the kind of thinking required by this set of classes.

Next term (beginning October 21), I’ll continue on with my two Homewood classes, but my public health classes will change to Health Behavior Change at the Individual, Family, and Community Levels and Maternal and Child Health Legislation Programs.  Or, at least, that’s the plan; I could always change that up a bit if I wanted to.

Public Health majors who take classes downtown can take whatever they want over the course of their senior year, but at least three of their graduate-level classes have to fit into some kind of concentration.  This can mean taking three classes from the same department or simply mixing it up and making the case that what you’re doing is actually somehow related.  I’m planning to use my Fertility class and Health Legislation class, combined with my Homewood Health Economics course to roughly form a health and economics concentration.  It’s not really a health economics concentration in terms of supply/demand of health care and insurance, etc., but rather, a look at how health and economics intersect.

So, it’s a great last semester for me with all kinds of interesting opportunities, both in my classes, in my job at admissions (I gave my first info session to prospective students on Friday!), and in planning for my big scary future.  And, sneak preview:  I’m a member in the charter class of Hopkins’ newest sorority – something I never, ever, EVER thought would happen.  But it’s exciting and I look forward to sharing some of that experience over the next few months!

Until next time, happy fall and happy application process!

While many of you are currently in the throes of college applications, I’m staring at a list of twenty law schools to which I am applying.  I finally have a working version of my personal statement (after nixing twelve previous attempts) and I’m assembling all of the other required pieces (transcripts, letters of recommendation).  It’s exciting and it’s scary and it’s overwhelming.  But if anyone is interested in learning more about the law school application process, I’ll surely be dedicating an entire blog entry to that at least once in these coming months.

A screenshot from my LSAC account -- I already have several applications in the works!

For now, I wanted to offer some advice acquired from my wise old age.  Having gone through the exact process you’re going through, and then basically doing it again right now, I thought I’d offer my opinion on the processes and share my approach/mindset.

I should start by saying my law school approach is MUCH different from my college approach.  When I was applying to college, I completed out three applications:  ED at Johns Hopkins and two others that I withdrew after that magical day on December 15 when I knew I was going to Hopkins.  I had a fourth application in the works, in case my admissions decision wasn’t what I’d hoped, but that ended up being unnecessary (thankfully!).  But really, I knew what I wanted and where I wanted to do it.

Law school?  I’m applying to twenty of them.  Many are on the east coast, some are in the Midwest, and a couple of California schools snuck their way in there as well.  I have no idea where I want to live, what exactly I want to study (obviously I’m studying law, but I don’t know if I’ll specialize) and I haven’t had an official visit to any law schools.  I don’t have a clear picture in my head since I have no idea where I’ll be, so it’s really just this abstract thing floating around in my head.

That said I am still trying to do this “right.”  I’m about to set the course for my career path and it’s important to do so carefully and thoughtfully.  So, with the benefit of retrospect and the experience of doing it all again, here are my major pieces of advice in approaching the application process.   (Added after writing: it was surprisingly helpful to write all of that out and remind myself to keep it all in perspective!)

• 

  This is from one of the law schools I wandered around on my own during a visit home last year.

  Learn what makes each school unique.  It will help you get excited about the application for each school, whether you’re completing five or fifteen. When I was applying to college, I actually enjoyed writing my applications because I had a clear idea of each school and some vague notions of what my life could be like there.  Now that I’m applying to twenty law schools, it starts to feel like I’m drudging along.  The solution I came up with?  Do my applications in cycles – five or so at a time.  By focusing on a small list of schools at any given time, I can keep my head clearer and be less likely to submit my NYU supplemental essay to UCLA.

• Be open-minded.  What you want right now might be very different from what you end up doing. Honestly, I could be the Hopkins poster child for changing majors and career tracks.  I came here with the strongest belief that I’d major in neuroscience and then become a neurologist, but two changes in majors later, I’m public health and applying to law school.  I was really lucky to pick a school that is strong in so many different disciplines; otherwise I could’ve been stuck on a course that wasn’t right.  Lesson learned – I’m not applying to law schools because of strength in any single area, but rather solid programs across the board.
• 

  Off-the-record advice: don't let your love of a particular college basketball team sway you too much. (Hey - I'm not applying JUST because of their basketball team and the fact that I could get tickets more easily...)

  Do your own research. Sure, if you have a question, contact Admissions.  If you really, really want to, read any of those college guidebooks out there.  But spending time going through schools’ websites, finding your own answers (Google is your friend), and discovering things you never even thought of is so helpful.  This kind of goes along with the first point of learning what makes schools unique – but spending time getting “acquainted” with the schools via the information they provide is an important step to help you decide for yourself if the school is a good fit.

• Make a list of “demands” or “deal-breakers.”  Be realistic, but know what factors are really important to you. These can be as simple as “not within a 300-mile radius of home” or as particular as “must have professors studying gene 41gsa3109 so I can work on solving the mystery of the appendix.”  (Can you tell I know nothing about genes and/or biology?)  Know what you want in a college and then seek schools that fit your profile, rather than trying to fit yourself into certain schools just because of a reputation.  Of course I always preach that you might change your mind about these things, but if something’s important to you, don’t settle.

Whew – so here it is.  Whether you’re like I was and you have that one school held above all others, or whether you’re like I am now and have no idea what you’re doing with yourself, I hope this is helpful!  I think the hardest (but most important) thing is to try to enjoy the process; it’s such a special time for you and for your family and it’s easy to forget all of that when you’re plagued with writer’s block or worried about getting that extra letter of recommendation.  I promise (everyone keeps reminding me of this, too) that everything will work out and you (we) will be happy wherever you (we) end up.

Can you tell this was rather cathartic for me?

I’ll be honest; I don’t really remember taking the SAT, SAT IIs, or most of my AP exams.  However, I do remember what seemed like an agonizing wait between the time I finished the test and when I got the results.  I remember the

After a law school fair in DC, I spread out all of the pretty publications on my bed and spent a few hours going over every single one -- while listening to the Beatles Pandora station, of course.

feeling of relief when I thought to myself, “I’ve got a long time before I have to take a standardized test again!”  Of course, this is back when I was thinking the next big thing would be the MCAT.  And yet, before I knew it, I found myself registered for the LSAT and shopping around different prep courses.  Once I got my results (just a few days ago!) I had that relief from being done – until the next big thing, of course: the bar exam.

It’s been an interesting few years since I was last wrapped up in an application process.  At seventeen/eighteen years old, I had no idea what the light at the end of the tunnel looked like.  I didn’t know what to expect to come from all of the work I was putting in—I could imagine things, but didn’t know many people in college and had no idea how on base my assumptions were.  My senior year was a blur; I tried to enjoy the time I had left in high school and in North Carolina, but all I could do was look ahead to whatever would be coming next.

Before I knew it, it was the beginning of my freshman year of college at my dream school.  I was super-psyched on being a neuroscience pre-med, and then I was planning to go to medical school and become a neurologist.  Yes, that was the plan.  However, despite all of the planning (I really did have a rough idea of my four-year schedule by the first month of my freshman year), here I am: going into my last semester at Hopkins, a public health major (mostly interested in the policy aspects of health) with a list of 18 law schools to start considering and no idea what kind of law I want to practice.

How in the world did it come to this?  I think I made a few mistakes in carrying out that pre-freshman year plan of mine (a.k.a. The Plan), all of which have helped put me in this new perfect place.

Mistake #1:  Organic Chemistry.
The Plan didn’t consider the possibility that I’d take a class in an area other than neuroscience and come to love it.  This was the case with organic chemistry – it was HARD and we had a love/hate relationship, but it made me think about things differently and ultimately led me to declare my major in chemistry at the end of my freshman year.  Here we see the beginning stages of the crumbling of the plan – chemistry was certainly not the major in The Plan.

Mistake #2:  The semester of science.
The second semester of my freshman year, I took Organic Chemistry II, Organic Chemistry lab, Physics I, Physics lab, and Cognitive Neuroscience.  For some students, this is a piece of cake – I certainly thought it’d be fine for me.  But I’m not a hardcore science student.  I loved the sciences all through high school and was crazy about organic chemistry, but this doesn’t really translate into being able to take a group of classes such as this one while still maintaining a peaceful and happy existence.  It was a brutal semester and one that made me seriously reconsider what I was doing with my life.

Mistake #3: Sticking to the plan.
Despite the feelings of uncertainty regarding “The Plan” and doubts as to whether it was actually right for me, I stuck with it.  I realized that the chemistry major was not for me and while I may have enjoyed it, I wouldn’t have come out with the transcript I’d need to be a strong applicant for medical school.  Enter Public Health Studies – this wonderfully interdisciplinary major that incorporates all of the sciences I’ve struggled through and all sorts of wonderful-sounding social science classes that were more in line with my interests.  I declared my new major in the middle of the first semester of my sophomore year, the same semester I finished the basic science requirements for the pre-med track.

Mistake #4: The semester of S/H classes.
That spring, I went crazy with the philosophy and political science classes (S= social science credit, H= humanities credit), along with my first public health class: Health Policy and Management.  This, my friends, was the straw that broke the pre-med camel’s back.  The whole Plan was out the window and law school started emerging from the back of my mind where it had been since high school when my dad started telling me about a friend’s experience in law school and working as an attorney.  This combined with a class called International Human Rights Law in US Courts ended the pre-med era and I set my sights on what was – for me – a much more interesting and appealing track.

So, you see, this plan I had set out from the earliest days of my freshman year had these few mistakes that ended up killing The Plan entirely.  Of course, I don’t actually think of them as mistakes in general, but rather the things that led to my completely different path (pre-frosh Mandy, however, would have seen them as mistakes, considering they were anti-Plan).

I’m so excited to be starting another application process and this time I have no idea where I’ll end up (as an early decision applicant to Hopkins, I knew I’d either end up here or at a particular state school—I wasn’t considering many other options!).  Having a list of 18 schools and no set plan is very refreshing, albeit a little scary.  But it’s an exciting time!  As some of you are applying to colleges and wondering where in the world you’ll end up and what you’ll be doing an a few years’ time, I’ll be applying to law schools and wondering the exact same thing.

Well, finals just started today and I’m already counting down until next week when it’s all over.  I have two final papers and four exams, so there’s certainly a good amount of things I could/should be doing at any given time.  In other words, it’s not a particularly pleasant week.

However, I’m getting through it by looking forward to this summer and have already made my summer to-do list.

1. Study for the LSAT.  I have a couple of weeks between finals and the big test date, so I’ll be doing some serious studying to make up for the weeks I did more regular school work than LSAT classwork.
2. TAKE THE LSAT.  Thankfully, it’s on June 7, so once it’s over, I’m free from the hours and hours of studying.
3. Go home.  I haven’t been home since winter break, and my parents recently got a place at the coast, so it’ll make for a nice break.
4. Start the law school admissions process.  Once I get my LSAT score at the end of June, it’ll be time to realistically assess myself and decide where to apply.
5. Decide what to do during the days.  I haven’t found an internship or anything like that, so I’m going to have to figure out what to do with myself.  As of now, doing nothing sounds pretty appealing, but it’s hard to objectively assess these things on four hours of sleep.
6. Travel.  I don’t really care where, but I’d like to go somewhere this summer.  Maybe law school visits will satisfy this?
7. Write a personal statement.  This is the biggest part of law school applications, and it’s incredibly vague.  I want to work on it all summer and hopefully take some of the burden off in the fall when I’m back to classes.
8. Learn to cook.  I remember this was a big goal of mine last fall when I first moved into my apartment, but something about classes, work, and studying kind of put that on the backburner (ha…ha).
9. Read for fun!  I haven’t read anything for my personal enjoyment since Harry Potter, most likely.  I don’t even remember.
10. Work on the IMDB Top 250.  Oh, Netflix.
11. Knit something.  I also love knitting but I’ve never finished a project.  I have a ¾-finished sock in my closet; maybe I’ll finish it off and even consider making the other of the pair.

As you can see, I don’t have anything too eventful planned, but in the aggregate, things like applying to law school and visiting home will make for a somewhat busy (and fun) summer.

In the meantime, it’s back to studying!  I wouldn’t want to add “retaking a class” to that list.

40: pages to be written by Friday

5: weeks until I take the LSAT

5: days left of this semester’s classes

4: final exams

2: final papers

1: semester left as an undergrad

0: definite plans for this summer

13: days until I’m completely done with the semester (and have to have all of that done!)

As you can see, I have a slightly busy agenda these next two weeks, and, unfortunately, real life doesn’t get put on hold just because I get busy.  Wanting to spend as much time as possible with friends who are graduating or going all over the country for summer jobs makes it even more difficult to have to study.  Regardless of the school, this is the toughest time to be a college student.  But the end is in sight!  And once I’m done, there are so many exciting things ahead that I really do have a light at the end of the tunnel.

I won’t ramble on too much about everything that needs to get done, both for your sake and for mine.  With that, I really should get to all of the things that I should be doing instead of writing this…

I promise (again, for your sake and for mine) more interesting blogs as soon as I’ve crossed some things off of my to-do lists.

P.S. Thanks to Jess for the title!

It’s that time of year when the weather gets particularly wonderful, admitted students flock to campus to scope it out, and, of course, the work piles up.  It makes it a perfect time for me to tackle one of the most common topics I’ve been asked about during my involvement with admissions:  the intensity of academics at Hopkins.

Let me set the stage a little more:  I’m taking five classes, which is pretty standard for Hopkins students.  I’m also taking an LSAT class, which meets for 3.5 hours, twice weekly, with practice exams every other Saturday morning.  I’m also working part-time in admissions, staying involved with various admissions groups, and helping with interviews for next year’s ethics board.  I’m busier than I’ve ever been while at Hopkins, though there are still students who fit in much more than I do!  But I’m speaking from my own experience, so suffice it to say that this is my busiest semester yet.

The craziness that comes from my schedule isn’t because my classes are too hard or unreasonable, but rather because I don’t want to give up on any of my activities or sacrifice my social life.  Sure, this means less sleep sometimes, but with as fast as the weeks are going by, I can’t stand the thought of missing out on a single thing (perhaps sleep excluded).

My classes this semester are pretty reading-intensive and don’t have a whole lot of checkpoints along the way to keep me doing the work steadily, so I’ve gotten into this bad habit of focusing on one or two classes in a given week, then playing catch-up with the others the following week, and so on, based on exam/paper schedules.  This is exactly

why study inside when you can study on the beach?

what you should NOT do as a student at any rigorous university—constantly playing catch-up is only going to make you feel perpetually behind (mostly because you are) and, from experience, you get much less out of your classes this way.   At this point in the semester, it’s hard to break the cycle, but I’m working on it and trying to get back to my good habits from less-busy times, namely, doing a little bit of work for each class every day.  Regardless, everything manages to get done one way or another.

Of course, there are days/weeks when it’s particularly difficult to keep a reasonable perspective on things—it’s quite easy to get caught up in my to-do lists that never get finished and what seems like an impossible amount of reading that somehow has to be done in just a few weeks’ time.  But when I stop to think about it, there’s not a single thing I’d want to give up to make my life “easier,” and, perhaps most of interest to anyone reading this, I still find time to have fun.

So is Hopkins intense?  In my experience, which is all I can speak from, it’s only as intense as you make it.  The semesters when I have taken a more level headed approach to my classes and not considered them the be-all-end-all of everything that ever was, I’ve actually done much better (and enjoyed them more, too).  My extracurricular commitments certainly make my schedule busier, but also more enjoyable and make for a nice break from classwork/LSAT studies.  Finding a balance is crucial, and I don’t claim to have struck up the perfect one, but knowing your limits and priorities will keep you from being overwhelmed by your studies, regardless of the school.

Hopkins, like any school full of highly motivated students, has its fair share of pre-something-or-others.  Many think “HOPKINS = PRE-MED,” as I’ll admit to thinking when I was applying and even during the beginning of my time here.  However, as a now-deeply-committed pre-law student, I can tell you that there’s certainly more to pre-somethings than pre-meds, and today, I’ll tell you about being pre-law at the great Johns Hopkins University.  Do note, (does this even need to be said?) that there are a multitude of students who are no more than pre-real-life…they’re not applying to any kind of graduate school in the near future.  So don’t think that you’d be out of place here if you have no immediate grand plans for some sort of graduate program—this just happens to be my area of expertise, given the fact that at one point or another, I’ve been on pretty much every imaginable advising track.

Anyway, being pre-law at Hopkins is great.  It makes people think you’re just oh-so-interesting because, well, there seems to be few of us.  Interestingly though, it’s not so much that there aren’t many pre-law students, but rather, we don’t have the common ties that pre-meds seem to.  Allow me to elaborate—being pre-law means that you’re going to law school.  (Period).  That’s it.  You have access to a great advising program within the Office of Pre-professional Advising and at some point you’ll be taking the LSAT and applying to law schools.  But there is nothing else required to being pre-law.

Sure, there are some classes that have “law” thrown into the title, some student groups that seem very well suited to the future lawyers of JHU, but this is all incidental.  Let me say it again: being a pre-law student just means you’re applying to law school at some point.  You could technically say that about the other pre-such-and-suches, but they have all these other requirements (classes) tacked on, so it’s really a stretch.

So what have I done to make myself pre-law?

• THE LSAT.  This thing is going to be the death of me.  I’m taking a prep course, which is great, but it’s also the length of two additional classes each week, plus homework!  Nothing like two extra classes to make you feel so very committed to something, such as, say, applying to a particular type of graduate school.
• 

  just a bit of light Sunday reading

  My classes.  I’ve taken things like “Politics and Policy Design,” “Politics of Health Policy,” “American Constitutional Law,” “Constitutional Law” (the second semester version, basically), “Courts, Politics and Public Policy,” “International Human Rights Law in US Courts,” and probably a few other that are escaping me right now.  But yeah, I got a little overly excited by the political science department’s offerings and took pretty much anything that was on some sort of study of law.  AND I’M GLAD!  I’ve learned that I like the reading and researching involved.  This is good news.

• Pre-law honor society.  So we haven’t really done anything, but I did apply and pay my dues back in December when a group of pre-law students decided to bring the chapter to campus (I think that’s the proper lingo).   At least I can add it to this list, right?

• My extracurriculars.  Okay, so just the ethics board.  And it’s not a strictly pre-law thing, by any means.  But it’s something that has given me a very strong appreciation for formal processes and rules and procedures, and how important they are to institutions.  That sounds about right.

So maybe you haven’t caught on, or maybe I haven’t done a great job, but I’m trying to show that being pre-law, despite our AWESOME lack of requirements, is just as cool as being pre-med (if not COOLER).  We still have pre-law(ish) classes, pre-law groups, pre-law tests, and can sympathize with our fellow law school applicants on all of this.

In all seriousness though, being pre-law at Hopkins is great.  The flexibility of our majors means you can study whatever you want and still take some of these cool law-sounding classes, (and the lack of requirements for the pre-law advising program means you can major in whatever you want and not take any of those (or similar) classes and still call yourself pre-law and impress everyone).  I think I’ve had the opportunity to take a much more multidisciplinary approach to my education, thanks in part to my major and to my struggles with past majors, and therefore find the areas where my strengths and passions align.  It’s a wonderful thing, which I’m not sure I would’ve been challenged to do had I not been at Hopkins.

just a little preview of the upcoming weeks' work...

Okay.  I’m definitely getting better at being a student (you know, now that it’s nearing the end of February).  I’ve consistently printed out all of my readings (and even done them, though, admittedly, not always on time), I’ve stayed awake through class (okay–I’m not really an in-class sleeper, anyway), and I’ve even memorized my schedule.  I’ve also managed to significantly expand my movie repertoire and simultaneously increase my caffeine tolerance.  All in all, despite the snow week, I’d say this is shaping up to be a pretty normal semester for me.

So, that said, I’ll go ahead and introduce you to my classes.  You know, now that I’ve finally remembered what they all are and that sort of thing.

1. Fundamentals of Epidemiology.   The final course of my Public Health requirements at Homewood campus, this covers populations’ health and illness, roughly.  It’s a very good course for any aspiring physician, as we talk about all kinds of diseases and how to track them, etc.  As an aspiring not-physician, it’s still interesting to learn about, though not exactly one of my passions.  We’ve done some case studies with real data and studies, which is definitely cool, even as a pre-law person.
2. Constitutional Law.  Last semester, I took American Constitutional Law, the pre-req for this ten-person seminar.  It’s pretty much a continuation of last semester, with a different format (more discussion-based) and just one big, gigantic research paper (“less than one hundred pages,” says Professor Grossman, somewhat jokingly, I think).
3. American Literature to 1865.  So, aside from Epidemiology, I needed one more course to finish off my Homewood requirements for the Public Health major.  An English class.  And I chose this one after being enrolled in a class that was cancelled for lack of interest.  This one is, well, not the easiest way to complete an English requirement.  It’s actually quite tough, but hopefully I’ll make it through without too much damage.
4. Courts, Politics and Public Policy.  Last semester, I took Politics and Policy Design, and this is with the same professor.  This is an entirely-intimidating, 400-level political science course that focuses on the relationship between courts and policy-making, as the name might imply.  It’s very reading intensive (and possibly writing-intensive?), but I’m learning a lot, even just in terms of getting better at reading difficult articles.  The professor told us that we should expect this to be at a graduate-level.  Yikes.
5. Elements of Microeconomics.  On a whim, as I was searching for more credits, I ended up in Micro.  I felt like it was a good thing for me to take while I have the chance, and so far, I think I made a great choice.  It’s very interesting material and I feel much less pressure knowing that it’s not required for my major.  I don’t know why that makes me less stressed about it…but it does.  Plus, the first exam is before the deadline to change to S/U (satisfactory/unsatisfactory grading), so there’s that fallback if I turn out to be terrible at econ.  I’m not a huge fan of the 9:00 meeting time, but I’m getting better at turning into a morning person, so that’s a plus, too.

So there you have it, 15 credits of wonderfulness.  To be honest, it’s not my favorite schedule ever, but I’m starting to enjoy the classes more and more (doing the reading and other assignments helps the lectures become infinitely more engaging, thus making the classes infinitely more interesting.  Even if the classes seem uninteresting, it’s best to do the work anyway, as it makes them more likely to be interesting…it’s tough, I know).  On top of that, I’m starting to get much more serious about studying for the LSAT and am still trying to apply for summer internships (which, by the way, is not going all too well…it’s amazing how difficult it is to find someone to let you do unpaid work for them).

Whew—it’s a busy semester and reading and LSAT logic games await.  But don’t worry, as usual, I’m still finding time for plenty of not-studying, including various attempts at cooking and a huge Netflix queue.

While I’m technically still a natural sciences student (I’m on the nat. sci. track in the Public Health major), my schedule of classes could lead you to believe otherwise–and I love it.  Sure, I am taking biostatistics, but compared to past semesters, I am mostly free from classes that involve any sort of numbers or reactions or brain structures, and after this semester, I’m hoping to never again need a calculator more sophisticated than the one on my phone.

So what exactly do I do as a natural science major who has lost all interest in the natural sciences?   Excellent question, and one I asked myself time and time again when I realized I was in such a position.

I figured I’d go a little more in-depth with describing my classes this semester, though not with straight description (see this previous entry for that approach), but more of what I’m actually learning and doing in them. So, without further ado:

How do policies get on the agenda?  How do you design them so that they’ll get passed?  How do you make sure they’re sustainable (and will last even if you’re voted out in the next election)?  Why is it that, even when there’s a beautifully simple solution, we end up with these extremely complex policies that no one can understand and are so far from the original project?  This, my friends, is Politics and Policy Design.  I’ve grown to be SO much more informed when it comes to all of this, but it’s hard to keep the cynicism at bay, especially when the introduction to one of our books tells us that the underlying assumption is that the main motivation for members of Congress is re-election.  Not the good of their people, not the good of the country, not creating good policy, but their own re-election.  Of course, this is a generalization and assumption for the purpose of creating a political theory (that is very widely cited, mind you), but it’s an example of why it can be difficult to remain non-cynical.

What are all of the aspects involved with the individual mandate for health insurance?  Who are the key stakeholders for and against the policy?  Describe the rationale, in terms of access, cost and quality of care and lay out a concise yet complete issue statement for this policy.  This is my current project in Politics of Health Policy.  We had a group project and are giving the presentation Tuesday, to be followed up by an individual paper.  Of course there’s much more to the class than this project, but it provides an excellent example.

Remember the 2nd amendment?  No?  Well, I do, but only because I had to study the Constitution for a quiz.  Anyway, it’s the whole “right to bear arms” thing.  (Which, by the way, always makes me think of a particular Family Guy episode, and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, pretend I never said anything).  And perhaps you’ve heard about juveniles being sentenced to life without parole for non-capital offenses?  If you’re really big on your random current events, you’ll know the “birthers” are still trying to sue to have Obama’s birth record unsealed.  All of this, and much more, is discussed at the beginning of every Constitutional Law class, for up to half an hour sometimes, before we get into the actual topic for the day.  It’s amazing how prevalent Constitutional Law really is–I really expected to be memorizing old cases and a few more recent ones, but I never imagined to have such thorough current applications every single class.

Did you know that most foodborne illnesses are actually caused by keeping food at an improper temperature, rather than poor sanitation or low-quality of the ingredients? Or that over 95% of all waste is industrial waste, rather than municipal waste (municipal waste = yours and my garbage).  I learn a lot of really weird, random things in my Environment and Your Health class, and I think in a lot of ways it’s actually helped me to live a healthier lifestyle.  Seriously!

You know all those headlines citing studies and their crazy amazing findings?  Like how people with a Facebook get lower grades? (an example from class last week).  Most of them are probably inaccurate, and I might even be able to tell you so if I could see the data–all thanks to Biostats.  I mean, it’s not quite as interesting as my other classes, but it’s definitely a valuable skill–and, most importantly, a major-required one!

So you have an idea of what I’m actually doing in my classes.  I am legitimately learning things and am VERY much enjoying myself.  But I’ve come a long way from, say
, spring freshman year.  Want proof?  Look at this little screen shot from ISIS, our online system that lets us register, see our grades, check our bill, etc.  Look at how different my courses were…and allow me to tell you how much happier I am now!

Anyway, I hope I was able to shed some light on the social science courses here–they’re truly fantastic and cater to any interest imaginable.  Even if something doesn’t seem interesting at first, chances are you’ll learn a ton and come out having gained a lot more than you expected.  And, personally speaking, I’m getting a bit more sleep these days–not because the courses are systematically, across-the-board “easier,” but because I’m doing what I’m best at and genuinely enjoy.

This semester, I’m taking two courses that deal with policy–Politics and Policy Design and Politics of Health Policy.  The two overlap slightly in the principles, as you might expect, but I feel like I’m actually getting a very diverse education in policy-making and implementation, and how what seems like the logical solution is not usually the one used in practice, largely because of political concerns (i.e., re-election).

Anyway, an important principle discussed in both classes is the “critical juncture,” or, roughly, a turning point.  This also plays into the concept of “path dependence,” where current options are limited by past decisions.  Basically (and I mean VERY basically–a quick google search shows that this can be an extremely complicated topic), as it was explained in one of my classes, critical junctures are the point when big decisions are possible, and the rest of the time, you’re limited by path dependence set in place by the critical junctures.

In simpler terms?  The decisions you make now set you on a specific path, where some later options can be drastically changed depending on the current decision.  I guess you could kind of think of it like the “butterfly effect,” if you want to skip the middle part, and think about the impact a current decision will have on your available options twenty years from now.  But it’s not really about endpoints (as in, right now and twenty years from now), at least as I see it.  It’s  about the entire path–now, tomorrow, the entire time between now and twenty-years-from-now.

I see it like this:  as college students, we’re at a critical juncture, RIGHT NOW. (no pressure, right?).  We have the ability to make relatively big decisions that set a whole particular path before us.  That’s not so scary though, because I don’t think political science is completely translatable to peoples’ lives on an individual level (despite this blog entry’s attempts at that?)…as in, just because we’re setting our paths, doesn’t mean we’re going to be entirely limited by it.  I think path dependence works a little better with policies than with people, but it still applies.

I don’t know if you necessarily have to call out just one critical juncture for all of college or this age period, but to choose one, I think mine is when I settled on my public health major and realized I’m not doctor-material.  Choosing not to continue pre-med studies is rather path-dependent, at least in the short term.  (Luckily, nowadays, there’s post-bac programs for people who decide after graduating that they actually do want to go to med school, but that’s not me.  Just throwing it out there).  Anyway, I set myself a new path when I had that critical juncture and made that decision, and now each successive decision relevant to my life goals (undefined though they may be) are putting me further along on that path–I hope.  That is, if political science works.  I think I believe in it.

I hope this doesn’t get construed as alarming–it’s not like you make one decision and you’re stuck for life, as it can be with policies.  I think that’s the beauty of our generation; we have so many options and fallbacks and the ability to redo things, all at much later points than previous generations.

So now, here’s your quiz to see if you’ve been paying attention.  Here I am, having passed my critical juncture in which I chose to pursue law school, and am currently faced with the following path-dependent decision: spring internship in DC or LSAT course?  I might need a few more weeks of policy classes to figure this one out.  Or maybe just a few more days in the week next semester.  I’m wondering what the politically feasible option would be in the long run…okay, I can’t even think of any more ways to stretch this.

(By the way, I’m choosing the LSAT course, sadly).