Really? Are we still in high school?

The concept of "study tables" is completely lost on me. I understand that our learning community directors want us to learn good study habits, get used to coming to the library, etc., but I personally feel that studying in a hot room in an uncomfortable chair with seven other people is hardly a good way to study.

In fact, before coming to this session today, I was in my cool, comfortable dorm room, studying for Economics. I then had to leave the peace and convenience of Washington Hall, pack away all my books, and walk ten minutes to Alden Library, where I now sit, unable to study and instead writing this blog. Why can't I study here, you ask? Because I am one of those crazy people who is totally OCD about reading. It has to be silent for me to absorb anything. Next to me, a girl is clacking away at her keyboard. Across from me is a boy with the squeaky pencil. Down the table a bit, people are talking. Not to mention the fact that I wasted ten minutes getting here, fifteen minutes packing and unpacking my notebooks, books, and ancient computer, and I will soon waste another ten minutes walking home.

The fact that I wasted more than thirty minutes to get here and get set up isn't even the point; the point is that I am an eighteen-year-old college student and I should be able to study my own way, on my own terms. Don't get me wrong; I'm not mad. I think our peer mentor and LC teachers are all fantastic. I even understand why this would be effective for some people. I just think this is a pointless exercise for me to partake in.

PS: Whisperers, keyboard clacker, and squeaky pencil boy... I did not mean to offend.

Bastards.

When I think about boldness in the media, especially on today's date, one front page nudges itself to the front of my brain. The day after September 11, 2001, the San Francisco Examiner published the page pictured at left. I remember that day being a slew of news reports and articles, but I don't remember what they said or who said what. Every paper in the country had a 9/11-themed paper the next day, but the only one that stuck in my head was the full-color, full-page picture of the twin tower, exclaiming "BASTARDS!" Some argue that it was inappropriate, offensive, vulgar, but even at age eleven, I knew that this one page embodied everything that Americans were feeling. It was before anyone knew what happened; New York was still in chaos. We knew, however, that someone had caused such a disaster, and we were angry. I remember reading that the publisher or editor of the Examiner said he wasn't trying to make a big statement; he said that "those bastards" was all he could think about that day, and so it became the headline.

The Examiner's front page was what people needed. September 11 was day one in the five stages of grief: denial. Day two was anger. The Examiner showed anger, where other newspapers and stations jumped straight to depression. I'm sure many people disagree with me, but I remember when I was eleven years old, long before I even thought about being a journalist; I looked at that page and agreed. It said what I was thinking, what many were thinking, and it did it in a way that was strong. It said "Get ready, America. We're going to fight back."

A lot has happened in the past seven years, and this entry was really a look back into the mind of my adolescent self. Things have changed; obviously we know more now that we did then, but I will always remember that front page and what it meant to me. There is so much more I could write right now, but I'll end it here.

Photo courtesy of www.september11news.com.