countdown: four before doomsday
Did I hear you ask “Mackenzie, what was living in satellite housing like?” (No. I didn’t. But pretend like you did ask, and then I can reply.) Satellite housing is, essentially, sheer awesomeness bottled up in a single domicile.
Last fall, before I left for Italy (a zillion years ago), I lived in Bertram House, a satellite house located at the back of campus. Five girls proposed a “simple living” community, devoted to using resources wisely, observing the sabbath (ridiculously much harder than it sounds) and offering hospitality to professors and other students (we held many crowded tea-times in our kitchen and always kept couchs available for visitors). Knowing that I had no place to live and was going abroad in the spring, they graciously welcomed me as an additional member of the house (and then we were six).
Why am I thinking about Bertram House this week? Most of my housemates from last fall graduated and are out making their way in the world. One of them, Jess, was recently in town visiting and we got together to eat, reminisce, and laugh hysterically (Jess has the best laugh ever). She recently got accepted full-time into the Christian Peacemaker Teams, and will be living in the West Bank (if all goes well) for the next three years.
And so I was thinking: living in Bertram House changed me a lot. Not quite as much as going to Italy, but definitely change happened. A lot of those changes simply stemmed from knowing my housemates and seeing the way they enacted community. We didn’t talk about community a lot, as such; there was no Messiah-speak about service or education, embracing diversity or dialogue.
It was the most profound experience of community I’ve ever had.
Everyone had crazy class and work schedules, but my housemates carved out time to spend in little acts of service towards one another. For example, when I had weeks of being unable to sleep more than 4 or 5 hours a night, someone would step in and take over my day for doing dishes, so at I could worry about one less thing. Or when Jess’s schedule resulted in her never being at home for meals, we always cooked extra food and set it aside for her. If any house member had a problem, time was made to talk without prevarication over how much work needed to be done. We made our cars available to one another when they were needed. We shared computers as needed. When I did a Photography II project centering on our kitchen, my housemates made themselves available for portraits despite their busy schedules.
We never set out to be a house devoted to off-campus service, either, or embracing diversity, but half the house was involved in off-campus service, including tutoring English as a second language, mentoring at-risk youth in Harrisburg, and working at Bethesda Mission. Bethy and Jess both did work at Center for Champions, and they brought the kids home for dinner and games, practicing hospitality without even using the word to label it as such.
We never discussed intentional dialogue as a way of building good community, but Sunday night, regardless of workload, we all gathered for house tea-time. We decompressed about our week, discussed faith, our jobs, the goodness of peach rings and asian cuisine, crushes, life philosophies, motherly penchants for feeding ridiculous numbers of people, and our future plans.
Jess’s future plans involved Christian Peacemaker Teams. I love (and admire) that she really believes there are concrete things she can do that will change some (I’ll go so far as to call it) evil stuff in this world. In her mind, peace is worth pursuing, and she chooses to act in unusual ways and take unusual risks which promote peace. Catching up with Jess and recognizing again her enormous passion and commitment to her vocation is inspiring, particularly as I’m going into my senior year. It’s time to decide on the things most worth pursuing, and it’s time to start pursuing them. Knowing people like Jess? That’s what makes Messiah College worth it.
Filed under general, the real world, vocation, housemates | Comments (2)eleven more days of freedom
I cannot wait for my roommates to arrive. I moved into my on-campus apartment last Friday. . . and while I love having space which is solely mine, on some level I feel a little lost without roommates. My roommates next year, Katie and Elena, were in Italy last spring with me (that’s us on a field trip in that picture! It’s Katie’s photo, and from left to right it’s me, Katie, and Elena). They’re stimulating, challenging people, with whom I just have a whole lot of fun. Artistically, I value their judgments highly (I took wood-block printing and stone-carving with both of them in Italy) and conversationally, I value their wit. With them, any remotely interesting topic results in debate and hilarity. (The weekend trip to Sardinia pictured below definitely resulted in hilarity!)
And we’re all art majors, so we have plans afoot to decorate our apartment. Posters are key, as are photographs of Orvieto and our travels. And, since we are art majors, we decided to exploit the sketching process to decorate our apartment; we plan to hang huge sheets of paper on our walls and use them as giant sketchbooks. I’m jazzed. I think it will be heck of rocking.
Yes, we’re mildly art obsessed. Because at college, your major eats your soul (in the best way possible). I’ve never lived with art majors before, but I’m excited. I’m excited to live with people who really have an appreciation of what it takes to be an art major, the hours of work required, the all-nighters before projects are due, the delight in finally getting something you can be proud of. Also, I think it will be great to have other artists always around to bounce ideas off of – and not just artists, but artists for whom I have a solid respect.
In Italy, Elena and I ran together before class in the morning. I think I’m going to have to start running early in the mornings again, even before Elena moves in. My body has finally settled into a regular sleep pattern, one that wakes me up briefly at 6:30 a.m before I roll over and tell myself sternly not to wake up for another hour. In Orvieto, running provided me with a chance to see the landscape waking up – to soak in the new light pouring over the edge of the cliff and into the valley. If I could force myself to open my eyes as regularly here at Messiah, I think that I might find enough inspiration to carry me through my senior show.
Speaking of senior show? Yesterday I saw one of my favorite professors ever. His name is Daniel Finch, and talking to him is like drinking three cups of espresso. I’m lucky enough to be working with him for my advanced two-dimensional studies course next semester, and already he’s prompting me to consider senior show questions. What makes me make images rather than turning to any other form of self-expression? What do I lack that I try to supply through image-making?
I’ll admit, after talking to Daniel my stomach is doing nervous, excited flips. I’m a senior now, and I have to prove myself by making senior-level work! And there are so many fascinating, difficult, delving questions that I’ll spend the next year trying to answer. . . .
Countdown: 11 days to the start of classes
Filed under general, reflections, lollipops, Italian experiences, photography, vitality | Comment (1)i was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere when the water filled every hole
Well! Today was an adventure. The photo shoot for the President’s Report happened down in Climenhaga, in Miller Auditorium. I’ve never spent much time on stage down there, but today I did - documenting the documentation, mostly (Donovan Witmer did the photography, Christina Weber organized, and Dan Custer and I took video and photos of the whole photo shoot process). The cover design adopted, as its theme, a conglomeration of faculty, employees, and students ala Annie Leibovitz’s Vanity Fair covers (except without the Hollywood stars).
I learned a lot, hanging out in the wings and running a video camera (or trying to slyly take notes in my sketchbook. Pretty sure I fail at slyness, though). Most of it was just little stuff - the tone of talking to large groups of people that you’re photographing, how planned all that body language that seems so natural is, how much life does not slow down after college - not if you’re a person passionate about what they do. I learned how much equipment you need to get a simple-looking effect, and how much knowledge successful, grown-up people imbibe through years of work (and they just whip it out instantaneously!). Also, I learned that sometimes a photo shoot containing seven people involves just sheer blind luck to get the perfect photo.
What hit me in the face the hardest, though, during my day of aiding the photo shoot (basically as a gopher) is this: I am so little prepared to face the real world. I haven’t got hardly any skills. Like, wow. Also, I lack social grace, which seems to always come in handy.
On the other hand, I felt an immense vitality going into this shoot - so many people with so many ideas and so much experience. You know how some people seem flat and dull, like they just never pay attention? And other people are vibrant and full of vitality, eyes wide open all the time? I want to be one of those vibrant people who’s full of vitality, and I want to be out in the real world acquiring that vitality and vibrant experience.
Sure, I’m not ready to graduate in an actual skills acquired kind of way (I’m sure as heck not ready to face my senior show even!), but I’m ready to graduate in an I want to get out there and learn all this stuff and be kick-butt at what I do someday kind of way.
I guess I just need to be stubborn enough to keep working with what I like even when I feel totally inadequate. And. . . if there’s any character trait I do have in abundance. . . it’s sheer stubbornness.
The End.
Filed under general, photography, the real world, vocation, vitality | Comments (2)the summer campus
In the summer the Yellow Breeches is full of ducks (I’m delighted by this discovery). Last weekend Liz, my best theatre major, came down to visit from New York City, where she’s rocking an eight-week summer acting program. We decided to indulge nostalgia and take our favorite walk – since first semester freshman year, starting to cope with the first pangs of essay anxiety, we’ve been strolling down to the Swinging Bridge and relaxing to watch the water go by.
Feeding ducks are hysterical. They paddle into the current, build up a little speed, and suddenly they’re upside down, bums in the air and feet finning desperately just under the surface to keep them head-down at the bottom of the stream. Then they burst back upright, too buoyant for their own good, shake their heads, and repeat.
Did you know that ducks feed in large groups? These did – all but three.
These three ducks stayed off to the left of the others, closer to the bank. One, who looked like the youngest, didn’t eat at all – he checked out his surroundings, paddled in circles, and looked confused (I sympathized. That completely confused look describes me when I first arrived in Italy and realized the full extent of the language barrier). Another had the hang of diving underwater – in fact, he dove entirely under the water, wiggling like crazy; he’d gotten confused and thought instead of eating fish he ought to be one.
“That one’s my favorite,” said Liz. “He’s waaaaaaay enthusiastic.”
“That third one’s kind of demented,” I said, pointing to the other duck near the bank. “Look at him – he can’t get his bum in the air to get down to the fish!”
“Um. . . do ducks even eat fish?” Liz asked. I shrugged.
“I totally feel like that duck after Orvieto.” I said. “I mean, he’s trying really hard. . . he’s not as confused as that one, like, he’s got a better grip on the way he wants things to be, but he still doesn’t quite have the hang of it.”
Welcome to Messiah’s summer campus (it’s kind of rainy lately). Welcome also to my blog. It’s not as good as an ice-cream cone, but is undeniably better than a sharp stick in the eye (so on the scale of drug use to fairy tales, consumption of this blog is pretty healthy). This year means a lot of firsts for me: I spent a lot of time outside the United States for the first time, I’m not going home for the summer, and I’m actually working at a job like the one I want to have when I grow up (as opposed to, say, working at a coffee shop or fast food restaurant).
Like the third demented duck, I haven’t gotten the hang of all these new experiences yet - this whole fish-eating deal - but I hope to report positive summer discoveries. And maybe, as I’m figuring out what, exactly, my voice sounds like after all these firsts are blended together and shaken out into something new, you’ll get a better idea of the challenges and satisfactions of student life at Messiah.
Filed under general, introduction, ducks, fish-eating | Comment (1)