my sorority.

I spent a lot of time today thinking about my sorority and how far we've come.  Before I explain though, I feel like I should clear the air about why I joined in the first place.  Going to Tech was a huge transition for me-- I had left the town I was born and raised in to come here. This meant leaving literally every important part of my life 9 hours southeast of Lubbock: my family, my dog, the Gulf of Mexico, and my lifelong friends.  Other than my sister, who was just as big of a stranger to the area (she had just transferred from a school in Boston the semester before), I was alone here.  Rushing meant that I could make new friends before school started, and that was exactly what I wanted.

So, without having a clue about any of the sororities or their reputations, I rushed. Every sorority house had their own way of asking why I did, but my reply was always the same: "I like to stay busy, and I like having friends. Figured this was the best way to do that." A sorority who liked my answer extended a bid to me, and I quickly found my niche. By the first day of school, I had a newfound friend in every class. And by the end of the semester, I had succeeded in staying true to my answer for why I joined.  I had flown halfway across the nation for a sorority conference, I had attended literally every single philanthropy and sisterhood event our sorority held, and I had more than two handfuls of great friends.

But that's not why I'm writing this.  I'm grateful for all of the above, but three years have past, and there's more to this story than just me.

My sorority and my relationship with it have changed a lot throughout the years.  It's changed both for the good and bad-- as anything in life does.  My attendance has fluctuated back and forth from perfect, to not-so-perfect, to somewhere in between the two.  I've grown up, and I've made additional friends outside of the organization. There were semesters when I swore off wearing their t-shirts, and semesters when I came to school decked out, every day, from head to toe in sorority-wear.  I think you get the picture though-- things changed. Being a senior, however, has made me reflect on the accumulation of improvements this sorority has seen over the years. I think that our newest leadership does a good job in reflecting those improvements.  

Our new council* really seem to have their heads on straight.  They work together and with the rest of the sorority.  They listen to girls' concerns, and take action. They've encouraged girls to take their studies seriously--- they award good grades on exams and projects, and they've even set up academic tutors for girls who are struggling.  They've made it a point to stress the importance of our philanthropy work by having the people affected speak to us about the difference we've made. The rule that requires us to become involved in organizations outside the sorority is now enforced. The seniors, who are busy studying for their 4000 level classes and looking for jobs, are continually reminded in action and in word how much our sorority supports us.  The council genuinely wants the girls to excel as individuals -- whether it is through our studies, our involvement with the community and university, or in our careers.

I'm by no means saying that our councils in the past have lacked qualities like this -- quite the opposite actually-- every council has had a hand in building us to the level we are now. But ---for the first time, I see these qualities across the board.  I think about my sorority now and see an organization dedicated to the bettering of its members in every way possible.  I'm proud of what my organization has become.

Our new chaplain (a member of PC '09) has started a program in which she sends a weekly email to the members with her thoughts, quotations and bible verses.  The idea that her office has been transformed into one dedicated to encouraging self-reflection and spreading good is a an example of how I feel about the improvements reflected through the leadership in my sorority.  Our leadership makes me proud.  Here are a couple little thoughtful excerpts from her emails to demonstrate my point:

Remember that our friends are a reflection of who we are. As 5th grade as it sounds, we are who we hang out with. Surround yourself with the people who impact your life in the most positive way possible.

A woman who knows how to have a good time is remembered, but a woman who is valued for her intelligence is respected. Use education to create ideas and mold experiences for you. Be smart about the decisions you make, even the impulsive ones. As Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, "the main part of the intellectual education is not the acquisition of facts, but learning how to make facts live."

Take the time to tell those who truly mean something to you how blessed you are to have them in your life. Write them a letter instead of a facebook message, call them instead of text them and show them [what] they mean to you.

In the words of Audrey Hepburn, "For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone."  We are all wonderful and beautiful in our own way! It is our job to show that beauty not at the surface, but in acts of kindness, thoughtful considerations and good works.

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea! - Oliver Wendell Holmes

"No, dear brothers and sisters, I am still not all I should be, but I am focusing all my energies on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us up to heaven."
Philippians 3: 13-14

*council: president, vice president, secretary, etc.

*PC: pledge class

an unlikely friendship: the bra burner and the sorority girl.

Last summer I took herpetology in Junction, TX for a Maymester.  After having spent the whole semester before that with my nose in an MCAT study book, I can't tell you what a life-altering experience the class was.

I loved it.  Not only did I love the content and challenge of the course - swimming in rivers to catch turtles or water snakes and roaming around ranches pulling up rocks to look for snakes and lizards, but because of the people I met there too.  I got to know my fellow classmates better after a couple days in the class than people I've known my whole life.  Something about Junction strips away initial hesitations about making friends, and challenges the students to get to know each other.  Sure I recognized plenty of the people from having spent three years with them in other biology and chemistry courses, but for the first time, I learned their names. For the first time, we actually spoke to each other.  Junction does that.

One friendship (there were plenty of great ones) I made in the class was with a PhD student named Jenny.  Our friendship kind of defines how Junction brings students together.  We laugh about it now, but we both agree that we were an unlikely match.  Although I think that her rendition of this story is much more entertaining than mine, I'll go ahead and tell it.

When I first met Jenny, all I saw was an earth-hippy bra-burner with Jesus sandals.  She thought that I was an obnoxious sorority girl.  She expected to have a lot in common with another Jesus sandal wearer in the class whose father is a famous river canoer.  I honestly felt like I was kind of the odd man out.

Everyone in the class seemed so nature-esque. They all had these fancy headlamps that they had used before, they could tell you what type of bullfrog was chirping, they loved to get outside and canoe down the river and they all were no strangers to potato rakes*.  I, however, was not this nature savvy. My headlamp had been purchased the day our class started at an Academy outside of Junction, I always thought it was crickets who made that chirping noise, and I thought a potato rake had to do with gardening potatoes.  I mean I was a girl scout, but these people were on a whole 'nother level.

It wasn't until our class took a field trip to a nature conservatory in Oasis, TX that I felt like a began to find my place in the class. Jenny's expected bff* was starting arguments amongst the group, and everyone was pretty damn exhausted from it all.  Jenny, being the confrontation solver/avoider that I soon learned she was, mentioned that she was gonna go herpin' in the natural spring with her snorkel gear.  I naturally jumped on the opportunity to join.

The two of us headed down to the spring. No sorority t-shirts, hippy sandals or headlamps, just bathing suits.  We left our stereotypes and pre-conceived notions back in the cabin. I think it was then that for the first time, we had a real conversation.  Not just about the nature girl turned drama queen of the class, but about life, the prehistoric looking catfish in the water, and the art of snorkeling.  We both learned how much we had in common. An unlikely duo. We spent the rest of the class confiding in each other, sharing what we wanted to do when we grew up, and what our lives were like outside of our world in Junction.

At one point while road herping*, I remember Jenny asking what my hobbies were outside of studying-- a question I hadn't been asked since sometime before my life turned into one big MCAT study session.  Someone saw what they thought was a herp, we stopped, jumped out of the car, and when we got back in the van I told her that I really wasn't sure if I had any real hobbies.

Now that the class has ended, Jenny and I continue to keep in touch.  She taught me to change the tires on my bicycle, introduced me to the first Friday Art Trail in Lubbock, and she consistently helps me add things to my list of hobbies.  We set aside time in our schedules for weekly dates at Triple J's for locally brewed beer tastings and we regularly study/talk biology at J&B together --- I consider her one of my closest friends.

It's funny to me that without Junction, our friendship probably would not have been ignited.  While I don't think Jenny has any intention of joining my sorority anytime soon (or ever), I've picked up a couple earthy characteristics from her. And yes, I now wear Jesus sandals.

                     Jenny and I in our Chacos at the First Friday Art Trail




*potato rakes: the rakes that we used in the class to turn over rocks and pick up snakes.
*bff: best friend forever
*herpin': looking for amphibians and reptiles to catch
*road herping: riding in a truck or van looking for amphibians and reptiles to catch on the road.  Road herping includes a lot of frequent and abrupt stops, Chinese fire drills, and green faces for those who suffer from car-sickness.

Jenny and I on the zoo fieldtrip snuggling with a lion family. One of the last days of the class.







                                                                              

"I wish I was the weather, you'd bring me up in conversation forever."

Yesterday afternoon in class at the Lubbock Lake Landmark, we learned about the weather. The goal for our professor was that we would be able to look at the whether conditions (clouds, wind, temperature etc.) and know how to predict the weather the next day.  So, in order to give my prediction, I feel like it's important that I note what I actually knew about the weather up until yesterday in class:

Before lightning strikes you, your hair gets really static-y.
The cows lie down in pastures if it's gonna rain that day.
If the sky is green looking, there's probably gonna be hail.
Some people can smell the rain coming... my mom being one of those.
The weather channel lies sometimes.
In kindergarten, you were the coolest if you got to be the weather kid for that week. I was never the coolest.
If I wear a white t-shirt to school that day, it'll probably rain.
If I bring my laptop to school that day, then it'll probably rain.
If I wear a white t-shirt AND bring my laptop in my backpack that day, hold on to your umbrellas because a downpour is on its way.

So.. needless to say - my knowledge was limited, and, to be truthful, it still kinda is.  Not that my professor did a bad job of explaining it, but because weather is sorta like how some people consider math. I just don't get it. I know how to check the weather online, and that's about it.

But here's what I learned in a very simplified way:
 cumulous clouds are the cotton ball lookin' ones. They usually follow a cold front and mean warm weather is on its way.

cumulonimbus are the towering stormy looking cotton balls with a flat bottom side. This is kind of the middle man cloud --- when the Barometric pressure had dropped before but now it's rising or vice versa.
cirrus clouds are the ones that are light, wispy, and look like fish scales high up in the sky and they are NOT at the end of cold fronts.

So to do my prediction, for today, here's what the weather looked like yesterday afternoon:
Cold. Like 50 F
Lots of cumulous clouds.
Some cirrus clouds.
Some cumulonimbus clouds.
Normal wind around 22 MPH
Wind gusts coming from the NW that made you feel like you were in one of the scenes from Wizard of Oz... to be more specific, right before Dorothy gets knocked out by a shutter that's going crazy in the wind. After walking three miles in the Wizard of Oz weather, I can relate.

From what it looked like yesterday, I'd say that the cold front had already hit, and was about to pack up and leave town.  There were some cirrus, so it wasn't completely packed, but it was getting close.  So, I'd say that today the front is leaving and that it will be warmer and there will be lighter winds.

When I walked outside to let Chewy out this morning, it was pretty damn cold still, so I'd say that the cold front hasn't left yet and we could probably expect a lot of cumulous clouds later in the morning.


Also, I would just like to thank my classmates who lent me a jacket, cardigan and socks whenever we realized that our professor was not kidding about going outside yesterday despite the weather:

List makin'

Before I came to college, I was somewhat disorganized. By somewhat, I mean that I didn't own a planner, and my backpack held a hurricane of papers.  Because I didn't own a planner, I usually showed up to what I had to with reminders from friends, and I usually found out about exams in the minutes soon before they took place. And, to be perfectly honest, my backpack only experienced a good clean out whenever my very brave math teacher would sit me down and force me to go through my papers (crumbled, stained and old though they were) and organize them into three ring binders (thanks KC). The LK in me was still slightly present.

Things have since changed. I have a planner that holds biblical value to me, I have binders and I am a list maker.  I make a new list at least once a day.

The lists can include anything - from household chores, to questions I need to ask people, to homework assignments that need to get done, to just about anything.  By making them, I rarely miss a beat. While I enjoy the success that has come from making them, my favorite part about the whole process is in the scratching off. Anyone who makes lists knows the feeling of relief in putting a big red line across a finished product. And that's why I'm writing this post.

I was thinking about what I do with all of those scratched-off lists.  They seem to end up in jacket pockets, in the washing machine, under the mats of my car or at the bottom of my backpack.  If I died tomorrow, the person in charge of cleaning out my belongings would think I was nuts--they would find half scratched off lists all over the damn place.

The truth to why they end up in unsavory places is because I don't throw them away.  I'm done with them, but I just can't get rid of them. I enjoy finding them.  I enjoy reminding myself that I do actually get stuff done.  So, I've decided, that with my new house will come a new system: I am designating a spot for these lists. A real spot. I'm now putting finished lists in a bag by my back door. So now, if I need a reminder of how I actually do get stuff done or I just want to entertain myself, I don't have to go rummaging through old oatmeal boxes or under my bed to find one. I will know exactly where they are:

When I finished using the shampoos that came in this bag, I couldn't make myself dispose of it because of the quotation on it.  I feel like the quotation is fitting for a bag that is carrying all of my scratched off priority life lists.

If you've never been a list-maker, I suggest you try it. I kid you not --- the feeling of relief that comes with scratching off the least enjoyable of priorities transforms them into something worthwhile.

a little piece of history

We spend a lot of class time at the Lubbock Lake Landmark.  The truth is - I didn't even know that it existed until the class began.  An even sadder truth would be that I didn't realize how important the piece of land was until last week in class.  Turns out that our classroom is a little piece of history. Did I say little? I meant huge:

In terms of history in America, there are 5 known time periods, beginning with the Clovis civilization.  What makes the LLL a big deal is that it was inhabited by humans during all 5... the only known place in America who can use that little tidbit as their claim to fame.  But, I guess what I find even more enjoyable about the place is its present day story--an irregular fairy-tale in the making.

You see, the LLL has fallen victim to all kinds of hate.  It's been pumped, depleted, driven on, dog-walked, and pretty much anything else that's bad for nature business you can think of.  Let's just say that the people who done it wrong, knew not what they were doing.  Until preservation of the LLL began around 10 years ago, it was chock full of Mesquite* and Salt Cedar.  Any and all water was sucked dry, and native plants were nowhere to be found. The LLL was a dry forest where prairie should've been.

The present is what makes up the fairy-tale part.  Now that people have discovered that the LLL is kind of a big deal, funding has been pumping into the property little by little, and restoration has begun.  The LLL crew practices prescriptive burning.  Mesquites have been plucked out by the fire, native seeds underground have been germinating, water is returning, and the prairie is finding her way back home to the LLL slowly but surely. Switch grasses, western wheat grasses, Hackberries, and black willows are all finding a new breath of life with each non-native ash juniper, Siberian elm, kochia, Russian thistle or salt cedar that disappears through the restorative processes.  It's not that she's completely unpacked her bags, but the prairie is indeed on the path towards happily ever after. Next week, our class is partaking in a service project to help the LLL crew help the prairie continue to find her happy ending.

prescribed burning at the LLL (photo taken by and borrowed with permission from Matthew McEwen)

One of my favorite parts about our university's honors program is that we sit outside to learn.  Or, if our lesson is taught in a classroom, we later go out into the world to meet what we've learned in 3-dimensions.  Or, we simply learn about the outdoors, outdoors. Having a classroom in the LLL encompasses all three into one.  We walk around the LLL's paths while learning about prairie dog calls.  We learn the importance of the prairie and its conservation/preservation in a LLL classroom, and then we're dismissed to walk out of the doors and meet our lesson for the day face-to-face.  We learn about history, on a piece of history.  In our courses, our education is not simply a fairy-tale we learn about in text-books -- we open the doors to the world, the fairy-tale becomes reality, and we get our feet dirty in it.

*Mesquite: native to the prairie, but forests of it are not.

the 411

As part of my midterm for my Introduction to Fieldcraft class, we were told to create a blog to serve as an online field journal. I plan on doing that, and then adding in my own personal whatevers* as well.

In order to make my whatevers make sense, I feel like a couple of introductions are necessary.

First and most evidently, I am a member of the ex-leash kid society*.  Yes, I was that kid.  You know, the one barefoot at the grocery store with unbrushed hair, shoes on the wrong feet, and a permanent smear of chocolate on my face.   While I have since grown out of my ways, I consider myself an advocate for the society.  I would like to consider myself as proof of a relatively good future in adulthood for LKs everywhere, and so it's my prayer that my blogs will find a way to give a sense of hope to parents of LKs and to LKs themselves (ex or current).

I have a dog: Chubaca Falkor, but people just call him Chewy.  He's my own dog-form of a LK, my partner in crime, and he's my best friend.  He will come up in most of my posts --- as he is, most of the time, present on my excursions outside of class. He is pictured below:

Lastly, I think it is important to note that I am a recent 1st time home-owner, a 1st-time garden starter, and a beginning wood-worker. A lot of my whatevers will concern these new additions to my life.



*whatevers: endeavors, thoughts for the day, personal anecdotes
*ex-leash kid society: in order to be a member, you had to at some point in your life 1. have been attached to a leash (whether that leash be a harness (see photo of myself above) or wrist-attached (had one of those too)) and 2. your parents had to have monitored your chocolate and/or candy intake.