I’ve been feeling pretty bad for the past week and a half. It has nothing to do with schoolwork, per se, I’ve been perfectly healthy, and I feel like my interpersonal relationships have been very fulfilling. The problem is that I haven’t been writing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been working on papers left and right, but to me writing is about writing creatively, about the creation of story and character and world. The last time I did any creative writing was last Friday, and I’ve felt like crap ever since. You see, writing – and any creative activity in general – gives me such an unbelievable dopamine rush, makes me feel so good about myself, that as soon as I don’t do it for a day I feel awful. I would compare it to being mildly manic-depressive; this kind of creative output gives me humongous swings in mood. While I’m writing, and after I’ve just finished a productive period of writing, I feel great about myself. I am the king of my own domain, the arbiter of my own destiny, the catalyst in my own ridiculously hyperbolic fantasy. You get the point. Just being able to put words on the page, even knowing full well that there is a real possibility that no one will ever read them, is empowering. It’s empowering not because it’s an accomplishment, but rather because as soon as you put the words on the page they are yours. No teacher told you to write them, no is telling what you can and cannot do. Admittedly trying to publish forces you to play by a lot of rules, but ultimately the product and the experience that went into it both belong to you.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what to major in recently. I’ve heard from all sides to get a “marketable degree,” something that will help me get a job. I could do it too. I’ve always been good at math and science. But they’ve never given me an ounce of fulfillment. A good grade on a test feels good, but I’m doing it for the grade, not for the content. I want to pursue something where I’m proud of both the result in terms of achievement, and the result in terms of content and product. I want to feel proud of what I do. If that means I graduate from Middlebury as the least employable person ever, then so be it.

-epn

As we pulled up to MUMS, I suddenly became very nervous to stand in front of a group of giggly middle schoolers. I have always felt that middle school is a weird time when kids are mature enough to know how to demand attention but somehow not mature enough to know how to do so respectfully. When I walked into the classroom, however, the thought of being scared of such tiny little kids suddenly seemed laughable. We knew that catching and holding their attention would be difficult, but the very interactive nature of an art class and of Artpad, the program that we taught them to use, seemed to fascinate them. At times, they were so taken with Artpad that it was difficult to gather their attention for a slightly more serious and less fun debriefing. Many of the students seemed understandably shy and intimidated, making class discussion slow at first, but once a few students began participating, others were encouraged to get involved as well. Teaching the class was not nearly as challenging as I had expected it to be, but keeping the students engaged and quieting the class down was much more of a challenge. Standing in front of a class of about twenty eighth grade art students, trying to get them to stop whatever they were doing and listen, was incredibly difficult. I was truly amazed by how easily Lisa Maggio, the MUMS art teacher, commanded their attention. Without her assistance in directing the students to follow our instructions, I am not sure that the class would have run as smoothly. Overall, I think that the class went very well, and I am glad that I got the chance to be on the other side of the desks for a change.