First-Year Student Journals : Kristin : Journal 11

Kristin's miniature straw box that looks like the White House

Kristin wears her sunglasses while hanging out on campus

Kristin | Profile | Reflections | Journals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

First, it was my planner.
Then, it was books and binder.
Next, my all-inclusive folder.
And then I lost….

I concede I am rather scatterbrained, especially this semester. It seems like I would lose something, only then find it and then lose something even more valuable. Books, folders, binders, planners—these items are the necessary materials for student learning. Just as I would lose hope of reclaiming all my precious, expensive supplies, they would providentially reappear. At the pace I have been misplacing important things, I could reasonably be labeled a loser.

Loser—I lost the original draft of this journal, just two hours ago. It is probably buried in a chaotic pile on my desk. I’m not joking or exaggerating. I did it. I lost it. Humans associate the word ‘loser’ with the undesirable. Surely, it is undesirable to lose the things one needs for learning. If we associate the word ‘winner’ with gaining or earning something, I propose it is natural to consider ‘loser’ as also someone who lacks.

Loss also has more serious connotations as well. Humans experience loss as a part of the life cycle. The most serious forms of loss are usually correlates of trauma. Loss is connected with death and damaged relationships. Generally speaking, we avoid thinking about loss—whether it be money, luxuries or people.

Yet, I propose loss does not have to be a horrible thing. I have lost more this semester than books and binders. More important, I have dropped some unrealistic expectations of myself and others. I lost some of my anxiety about the present and the future. In the process of losing, of lacking, I think I actually gained. I continue to wake up in the middle of the night, but not because my energies are ruminating on my anxiety.

I remember that I was always labeled a winner—especially in high school. I was always winning something, speech contests, writing contests, acting awards. I remember the résumé I sent to UT was an inventory of the awards I had won. Certainly, I am not going to decry my past achievements. I think achievement is a beautiful thing, especially for the right reasons. Now, surely, achievement has its trappings: recognition and respect. Yet, I believe one can have a high volume of achievement and not gain anything.

In high school and even in college to some extent, we talk of being in the right activities with the right people and doing the right things to achieve. Now at UT, it seems there are variable “right paths,” but occasionally I perceive there are some commonly recognized ones. I am not going to criticize the aspirations of any people in very specific activities on campus. However, I am going to express some of my dissatisfaction with my own choices.

I purposefully joined general-interest things I thought would advance my career here. There is nothing wrong with that. Nonetheless, I admit that some of the activities I am involved in I do not feel very passionate about. I do not think that there is anything intrinsically wrong with some of the organizations I am actively involved in. I am a member of some “winners-only” groups. The funny part is that it seems like I am lacking something. I am missing something—akin to an indiscernible finish line. In being a “winner,” I perceive I lost some valuable self-regard. I gave second priority to some of my deeper affiliative needs.

Nevertheless, by losing the illusion of the fixed trajectory of success, the path of the winner, I have attained a more refined vision of my future, one that is unique to me. I lost some things in the process: complete security, indisputable approval and a predetermined, well-trodden path. Yet, in the process of losing I gained a better sense of self. Now, if I could just manage my school supplies.

Send questions and comments to kristinrochelle@yahoo.com.



	Kristin \| Profile \| Reflections \| Journals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Home
	First, it was my planner. Then, it was books and binder. Next, my all-inclusive folder. And then I lost…. I concede I am rather scatterbrained, especially this semester. It seems like I would lose something, only then find it and then lose something even more valuable. Books, folders, binders, planners—these items are the necessary materials for student learning. Just as I would lose hope of reclaiming all my precious, expensive supplies, they would providentially reappear. At the pace I have been misplacing important things, I could reasonably be labeled a loser. Loser—I lost the original draft of this journal, just two hours ago. It is probably buried in a chaotic pile on my desk. I’m not joking or exaggerating. I did it. I lost it. Humans associate the word ‘loser’ with the undesirable. Surely, it is undesirable to lose the things one needs for learning. If we associate the word ‘winner’ with gaining or earning something, I propose it is natural to consider ‘loser’ as also someone who lacks. Loss also has more serious connotations as well. Humans experience loss as a part of the life cycle. The most serious forms of loss are usually correlates of trauma. Loss is connected with death and damaged relationships. Generally speaking, we avoid thinking about loss—whether it be money, luxuries or people. Yet, I propose loss does not have to be a horrible thing. I have lost more this semester than books and binders. More important, I have dropped some unrealistic expectations of myself and others. I lost some of my anxiety about the present and the future. In the process of losing, of lacking, I think I actually gained. I continue to wake up in the middle of the night, but not because my energies are ruminating on my anxiety. I remember that I was always labeled a winner—especially in high school. I was always winning something, speech contests, writing contests, acting awards. I remember the résumé I sent to UT was an inventory of the awards I had won. Certainly, I am not going to decry my past achievements. I think achievement is a beautiful thing, especially for the right reasons. Now, surely, achievement has its trappings: recognition and respect. Yet, I believe one can have a high volume of achievement and not gain anything. In high school and even in college to some extent, we talk of being in the right activities with the right people and doing the right things to achieve. Now at UT, it seems there are variable “right paths,” but occasionally I perceive there are some commonly recognized ones. I am not going to criticize the aspirations of any people in very specific activities on campus. However, I am going to express some of my dissatisfaction with my own choices. I purposefully joined general-interest things I thought would advance my career here. There is nothing wrong with that. Nonetheless, I admit that some of the activities I am involved in I do not feel very passionate about. I do not think that there is anything intrinsically wrong with some of the organizations I am actively involved in. I am a member of some “winners-only” groups. The funny part is that it seems like I am lacking something. I am missing something—akin to an indiscernible finish line. In being a “winner,” I perceive I lost some valuable self-regard. I gave second priority to some of my deeper affiliative needs. Nevertheless, by losing the illusion of the fixed trajectory of success, the path of the winner, I have attained a more refined vision of my future, one that is unique to me. I lost some things in the process: complete security, indisputable approval and a predetermined, well-trodden path. Yet, in the process of losing I gained a better sense of self. Now, if I could just manage my school supplies. Send questions and comments to kristinrochelle@yahoo.com.

First, it was my planner. Then, it was books and binder. Next, my all-inclusive folder. And then I lost….

First, it was my planner.
Then, it was books and binder.
Next, my all-inclusive folder.
And then I lost….