Venturing into the belly of the beast

A few weeks ago, I went to the Lazarus Center (Bringing your career back from the dead since March 2012!), also known as the Career Development Office. (It's named after an alum, not the Biblical Lazarus, but I still can't hear the name without thinking of one or two snarky quips.) The Lazarus Center sends hella emails that nobody actually reads about how to ace an interview/score an internship/arise from the mailroom, and since I have a keen desire to succeed, I made an appointment with an advisor to discuss my Future. He turned out to be unbelievably kind and supportive, gave me a ton of really valuable advice, and directed me to some very helpful people. It was a really great experience!

Today, I went to another super-helpful resource that I had not previously given much thought: the Jacobson Center. The Jacobson Center helps with writing assignments: you make an appointment, upload your essay a few days in advance, then go in to get feedback from someone other than your professor. I admit, I didn't go of my own accord; my Bio professor assigned us a case study paper and one of the essay requirements was a visit to the Jacobson Center. There's a person who specializes in science writing, but she was swamped, so I just made an appointment with someone who was available when I was. He was a very pleasant man; though he admitted to being out of his element, he gave me some very helpful advice. I know how to properly use footnotes now! (My high school insisted on MLA and parenthetical citations regardless of the subject, so I'm shaky on other citation styles.) Because my paper was only a page long, our appointment was pretty snappy, but I feel good knowing that my argument is logical and coherent and that the joke I made at the end is amusing.

I wonder what my next adventure will be. Maybe I'll go to the Center for Work & Life. I'm not 100% sure what they do, but I could explore.... still, that might have to be an adventure for next semester. The year is rapidly coming to a close (why yes, that is extraordinarily nerve-wracking! Thank you for asking!) and I'm trying to crack down and focus on what's right in front of me.

Extension of the heart

One of the many, many reasons I love my Contemporary class is that we get to dance to live music. Dancing to an accompanist versus a CD makes a huge difference, for starters because all the accompanists I've known are very kind. When I was twelve years old, I went to a really fancy ballet summer school for two weeks. I had dreamed of attending for years and when I got there, I was absolutely petrified. At the first class I was scared stiff--literally, rigid with anxiety. Because my last name starts with "A" I was at the end of the barre, facing the accompanist. He was a white-haired Russian man (I learned his lineage later) with an enormous face. We did the first combination on one side, and after he struck the final chord, this man took in my wide-eyed, terrified face, and gave me a thumbs-up from under the piano. I felt reassurance wash over me like a wave, my tense muscles relaxed, and I turned to the other side, ready to dance. That man is my hero. I would never have gotten to where I am today without that tiny gesture of support.

Accompanists are also truly great artists, and our accompanist (whose name is Tony) is no exception. He plays up to four or five instruments at any given time: a drum between his knees, shakers on his ankles, a keyboard, this weird wind instrument that attaches to the keyboard, and he also has pre-recorded sounds that he blends with his instruments. A series of bird calls is in heavy rotation, which really confused me the first week of class. Tony plays the sunrise. He played the fog that rolled in this morning and dusk with mosquitoes coming out and at times, it feels like he plays pure emotion. His drums are a pulse, and the piano is breath. I can't put into words how beautiful this man's music is, nor how grateful I am that I get to dance to it twice a week. It's not easy playing for dancers. Teachers can be very exacting about tempo and style, and of course you aren't the center of attention no matter how well you play.

At the end of each class, we applaud Candice (you always applaud the teacher. If you've never taken a dance class, take note! Your teacher, no matter what technique you are studying, is giving you a gift of time, knowledge and experience. It's very rude to just walk away at the end of class without acknowledging that gift. Applaud and thank them personally for good measure.), and then applaud for Tony. Our applause for Tony consists of the class crouching down and pounding the floor with our palms. I don't know the background of this gesture, but I understand it and appreciate it.

Swag

I got an A on a Sci Fi quiz this week! When I looked down at my grade, I started doing a sauntering kind of victory dance down the long hallway in Mendenhall: head-banging, shaking my shoulders, and muttering "I know my stuff!" Sure I may have looked slightly insane, but I think I earned it.

Insecure Monday

I mentioned this towards the end of my last post, and I want to discuss it now. I'm trying to find my place at Smith and figure out who I am and what I'm good for and all that jazz, but while I definitely feel like a Smithie, I don't feel like a dance major. Technically I'm still undeclared, but come on now. I love my classes and my professors, and I want to take all the dance classes ever, but something isn't right. 

As for the ESS minor, forget about that. I belong in that department about as much as I belong on the athletics fields. When I tell people that I'm an ESS minor, I feel like I'm lying to them. 

And here's why. 

I have this idea that each department has a particular type of person that is best suited for that particular area of study. I realize that I'm stereotyping, but writing out this post is just intended for me to organize my thoughts. If I offend anyone, I apologize. 

To resume. The dance department, interesting and wonderful though the classes may be, is full of people who think things about dance that really don't resonate with me. I'm sure I could steer myself towards more conscientious behavior while in class, but I am taking Musical Theater Dance. It's sometimes hard to ponder the head-tail connection while I'm pretending to be a showgirl. God knows that's hard enough for me. 

I keep thinking that I'm trying to be at least four different people at different points throughout my day. In Comp and Sci Fi, I'm trying to be analytical and deep about not only dance but movement. In Kinesiology, I'm trying not to make an ass of myself. (At this point that's really the best I can strive for.) In Jazz, I'm just really uncomfortable with awkward movements that I don't feel feminine enough to execute properly. In French class, I feel like I'm missing something, but more often, a lot of things; not the right style, attitude, not talkative enough, not confident enough, not understanding enough of what my professor is saying. 

This is especially weird because I think of myself as a relatively self-assured person. My classes have just been making me hella insecure about life lately, and I'd like to know what gives.