So, my CT and I both completely agree on cell phone rules: don’t have it out or its mine for the hour. If it’s right at the beginning of the period before we’ve really started lessons, we’ll let it slide.

Anyway, I was circulating around the room to monitor the students and keep them on-task when I spied one of my students texting. This student is generally very well behaved in class and I have few problems with her. However, I did have to take both her iPod AND her cell phone from her in the same class hour last week.

I stick my hand out for the phone. Today is her birthday, and it was right at the beginning of class, but I wanted it anyway. She pondered for a second, then reached back into her pocket (where she’d stashed her phone) and put a fun-size snickers in my hand.

I know I should’ve said “No dice,” and given her points, but sometimes, you just have to let it go, have a laugh, and enjoy the free candy. Happy birthday, dear student, happy birthday to you.

P.S. I am going to start blogging something substantial here soon. I’m getting the itch, I just need a couple of good topics to mull over before I really dig in and start writing.

For my students, this means to calm down, be patient, and do the best you can. Many of my students get really upset when something does not go the way they think it should, or if they don’t get a grade on a major assignment within 48 hours of submitting it. Some of them think everything we do is a waste of time. Some of them take every bit of it far too seriously and need to enjoy it a little more. So what do I tell them? Don’t freak out.

As their teacher, this means I have to keep my head. It is no secret that I am a control freak, and it is also no secret that I can be uptight. Having this motto in the classroom has helped me keep my cool and let things roll. It also means I have to take risks and not worry about what may or may not happen. I am lucky enough to have the kind of classroom environment in which my students feel comfortable saying, “I don’t understand this,” and “Don’t freak out, Ms. McRoberts.”

So where do The Office, and specifically, Jim Halpert come into play?

Yesterday, actually.

I love The Office, and I feel strongly that I should be involved in events at the school as much as my work schedule and my cooperating teacher allow (for instance, it was a really good thing that she did not allow me to go to the soccer regional. I was horribly sick, and I would have only gotten sicker if she hadn’t been there to  give me a firm “No”). So for October 30th, students were told they could dress up (as long as they followed the school dress code). All week, my students asked me if I was going to dress up, and after much consideration, I decided that I would be “Three-hole punch version of Ms. McRoberts.” Thank you, wonderful writers of The Office. The costume was not distracting because it was just three black construction paper circles taped to my shirt, and it was super easy to do for that very same reason.

My students loved it. I even had a student come in hours before his class just to see if I had kept my word. He was curious because he came as the three-hole punch version of himself. Those who loved The Office thought it was wonderful and hilarious. Those who had never seen the show thought it was original and hilarious. Either way, my students thought it was funny. Some of the teachers even commented on it!

I’m sure that some of my students (and maybe even some of the other teachers) thought I looked ridiculous, but I don’t care. I had fun doing something out of my comfort zone (generally speaking, I despise dressing up for Halloween), and it put a smile on most of my students’ faces. I’m going to be Three-hole punch version of Kaleigh tonight, and I am anticipating just as many smiles and “I love it”s as I got yesterday.

And it’s all because of the class motto–don’t freak out.

Now that I have that little confession out of the way, I want to point out that I have now watched the “Single Ladies” video several times, and the choreography simply AMAZES me. The fact that one person can do all that astounds me; when three people do it in sync, it’s a total mind blow. I watch it and I smile because I really believe it is an achievement for the world of dance. I watch it and I feel better about the world because it is a genuine example of “the happy accident.” The whole reason the video was even a dance sequence (shot in black and white, no less) is because Beyonce’s peeps blew all the money for videos on her first single, “If I were a Boy.” What a happy accident that such a cheaply made video would be parodied a million times and either win or receive nominations for various awards.

A “happy accident” is my way of saying that something is “lucky.” These happy accidents have happened to me pretty constantly since 2009 began. You might think this is a lie, or at best, an exaggeration. It is no secret that for my family as a whole, 2009 has not been a kind or generous year. However, I’m a firm believer that there is a reason for everything, and 2009 has certainly shown me that happy accidents are what my life is all about.

The best example is from last semester. The intial incident infuriated me for about three whole months. I desperately wanted to take a course with a really popular professor in the English department. I also wanted to take a course on Shakespeare; that hadn’t happened because it hadn’t fit into my schedule with other mandatory classes (and silly decisions on my part…). When I was preparing to sign up for classes, I can’t tell you how stoked I was that this amazing professor was teaching a class in Shakespeare! I could kill two birds with one stone!

Now imagine my rage when I saw the ISEP schedule (the secondary education program in which I’m currently enrolled) for that same semester. My only option was to drop the Shakespeare course so that I could finish up my ISEP courses in time to student teach for the fall. Bye-bye, amazing professor. Sayonara, Shakespeare course. Hello, stupid ISEP class, you horrendous, fun-sucking program. It still makes steam come out of my ears when I remember how ticked I was.

So I made the proper adjustments to my schedule. I ended up getting enrolled in a favorite professor’s class in the English department (part of the happy accident). I grudgingly purchased my materials for ISEP. Then, my family and I found ourselves in crisis.

I made it through my Tuesday/Thursday class with my favorite professor just fine. When I left my house for that class, it was like going from one home to another. I knew the expectations, I had an established, respectful, supportive relationship with my professor, and my closest friends were in that class with me. It was a comfort zone. So while my personal issues were still very distracting, I knew that I had nothing to fear, and that if I needed anything, I could stop by my prof’s office and talk to her about what was going on.

The rest of the week though, was difficult at best. While I enjoyed my classes, my workload was slowly becoming overwhelming, particularly for my ISEP course. Normally, I am able to breeze through my schoolwork. I am highly self-motivated, and I can focus on a task so intensely that I often don’t pay any attention to what is going on around me.

Unfortunately, such concentration was not happening, and I was unmotivated to do much of anything. ISEP modules take a long time to do when I’m functioning at my best. During my family’s time of crisis, I was lucky if I was able to finish a module hours before it was due. I would spend hours in the library, more often wiping the tears from my eyes as my frustration grew. I could not concentrate, even the simplest tasks for the modules seemed like the most impossible tasks to complete. Listen to a podcast? ARE YOU KIDDING!? How am I supposed to understand anything I hear when I’m hurting so much!? Write a reflection on your learning style? Who CARES about my learning style!? I can’t make myself learn right now anyway! For pete’s sake, I wanted to take Shakespeare!

It didn’t help that I was uncertain about my professor for that class. On my best days, I was intimidated. On my worst days, I was terrified. It isn’t easy to feel comfortable in a class that dictates when you’ll student teach, especially when this program is supposed to be more “prestigious” and “challenging” than the other program (there’s plenty of argument about this, but just go with it, ok?). I realized that if I didn’t have a chat with my prof, there was no way I was going to be able to continue to do well in the class. I was to the point where I was unsure about how often I was going to be able to force myself to go… and that class allows only one excused absence.

So I went and spoke to my professor. I had been a cryer during much of this time period, so I made sure to practice what I was going to say (it was short and concise; I had decided I would say what I needed to say and get the heck out), so as to greatly decrease the likelihood that I would break into tears. After I had practiced my little speech and gotten through it several times without breaking a sweat, I went to see my professor.

But it went all wrong… As soon as I opened my mouth to say, “I need help,” I started to cry. A lot. I wouldn’t say that I’m not a cryer, but it’s a really big deal when I cry in public, especially in front of someone I don’t really know, and who looks at my schoolwork every week. I spent the better part of a half an hour in my prof’s office, pretty much just crying. I was able to choke out what I needed to say, but my goodness, I didn’t know that my tear ducts could produce that much water!

I suppose you’re wondering where the happy accident comes in here. Dark as that semester seemed to be, that professor ended up being the most supportive individual throughout that whole time period. To this day, she makes the claim that she did nothing, but if you could tally all the office hours I sucked up, you would know that her patience and support accounted for a lot more than nothing. We talked about my progress in the class, my personal issues as I needed, and my plans for the student teaching semester and beyond.

The happy accident is that I walked into that semester thinking it was going to be the most frustrating semester of my life, and in a way, it was. However, I walked out of it with a confidant and mentor who made sure that she was my instructor for my last ISEP course (the online course I’m taking this semester), and who made sure that I always felt like I was in a supportive environment. I walked out of my time as an on-campus student much more confident, and much more capable of asking for help. I have one more person to turn to, who I can trust. That is quite the happy accident.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go watch that Beyonce video again (“oh, oh, oh”).

I’m also the only student teacher at the high school this semester, and while it is somewhat intimidating that everyone (students, faculty, etc.) knows that I am the student teacher this fall, it has also helped me out for that very same reason. Other teachers have asked me how it’s going, and have been more than willing to help me complete my course requirements (YES! That makes my life SO much easier!), and I find that somewhat comforting. I’m not a random anonymous EIU student running around the school trying to fulfill course requirements, I am Kaleigh McRoberts, the only student teacher at their high school this semester.

I’m currently working on making friends with the copier. It was broken down more or less all day yesterday and a good portion of today too (after someone had already come to fix it after Monday’s breakdown). Apparently, it’s not made for high volume usage (at least, that’s what it seems like everyone is saying), so it frequently jams and breaks.

I have no profound thoughts for this particular post, though I’m sure I’ll have some as I progress through the semester (supposing also that I have time to share them). I have some good stories, but they’re the kind that really can not be told via blog. Those few curious souls will just have to wait until we meet again. I suppose all I have to say about things so far is, “Students: 0, Ms. McRoberts: 1.”

Here I am at the end of yet another summer, and I feel like I finally had my cliché “coming-of-age-in-your-own-hometown” summer. Part of me feels like that’s a ridiculous thing to say, but most of me feels like it had to happen. I had my “coming-of-age-through-world-travel” summer last year, so it really makes sense that the hometown epiphany happened this year. It served me well, and I learned a lot (almost as much as last summer). I could make you a Nick Hornby-style list (Top Five Things I Learned This Summer (in no particular order)), but I think both the writer and her audience would be much better served through a single thought that has resounded in my consciousness throughout the summer:

I want to be a blessing, not a burden.

You’re probably asking yourself, “Kaleigh, dearest, where did this profound thought come from?” Well, let me explain…

The Sunday before my pastor left to do some mission work this summer, he asked our congregation to pray that we would be blessings to others. One of those wake up in the morning, get down on your knees and pray, “Lord, please let me be a blessing to someone today,” kinda things. So I did it. I’m not sure that I was a blessing to someone every day this summer, but I like to think that most days, I was a blessing to at least one person.

I think it started with a simple question: “So, what do you want to be when you grow up?” This one question marked the first time that I ever put in a conscious effort to get to know a co-worker I never see outside of the workplace. I didn’t ask to be a smart-alek (my co-worker is a bit older than I am, so clearly the “what do you want to be” question had already been addressed), I asked because I genuinely wanted to know what brought her to work at JCPenney. For the first time, I acknowledged the fact that the real world is not like most of the the fictional world; it’s more like in Tom Perrotta’s Little Children: everyone is a round character, there are no flat characters. Not really.

That one question resulted in an all-day conversation that I guarantee would not have occurred otherwise (and it certainly helped an otherwise monotonous day of bra-sorting pass quickly). It seems like such a small thing, but really, that was huge. All it takes is asking questions, showing interest. I know, I know. I’m wearing my Captain Obvious super suit under this. This is stuff we talk about in teacher education courses all the time, and they make it seem like rocket science (have them interview each other, ask them the histories of their names, make them complete surveys or tell what their favorite books are). It’s as simple as asking a question to which you sincerely want to know the answer. I didn’t care what my co-worker’s favorite book was (at the that point in time), but I did care what brought her to JCPenney. And oddly enough, I am kind of curious now to know the title of her favorite book.

In my life, being a blessing has been about seeing outside of myself. It is so easy to live my life as the heroine of my autobiography (soon to be a major motion picture!), but it’s much more fulfilling to pull my nose out of my own book and put it into someone else’s. It’s much more fulfilling to ask a simple question to show that I care and am interested in the people with whom I spend most of my waking hours, than it is to be lost in my own head all day long.

The major lesson of this summer: I want to be a blessing to at least one person a day. Hopefully, it’s more, but one a day is a nice starter goal, right? And I promise it won’t be like those nasty “I can only please one person a day” t-shirts. Besides, I feel blessed when I try to be a blessing to someone else. There’s no better feeling than that.

Managing to keep it together is a big deal for me. While the argument can be made that we all learn from our failures, I really don’t like to experience that particular method of learning, and I don’t know too many people who are fond of that method either. Part of keeping it together is keeping up with those precious “sacreds” that I’ve explained before in “The Sacreds have been Compromised.” But there are a couple of other things that help me keep it together as well.

Gilmore Girls: This show brings me more joy to watch than any other show on television. It’s fast-paced, it’s witty, and has a great soundtrack. And as far as being a student is concerned, I relate to Rory Gilmore like nobody’s business. I’m not as smart as she is, but I am incredibly intense about my schoolwork, and I sometimes prefer to go home and read a book instead of go out with my friends.

My friends: If it weren’t for the wonderful friends I have in my life, I would not be able to keep my head above water. They encourage me to let loose and have fun. They support me when I need it. They come to my presentations and award ceremonies. They teach me how to use new teaching methods and write better papers. They make me laugh and text me in the middle of the night. They make me feel smart. They help me write nominations and make good decisions. They take pictures because I never bring a camera. They’re always there for me during times of trouble, even when they have no idea that my life is hating on me.

Prioritizing: There are some things that have to be done now and some things that can be done later. The important thing is to determine what falls into each category. Everyone knows I do not procrastinate unless it is absolutely necessary (like when I have writer’s block or other obligations to attend first). I actually designate days to work on particular class work. Here’s a rundown of my homework schedule:

1. Sundays: Big assignments for any class (papers, unit/ lesson plans, other presentations)
2. Mondays: Feminist Theory & Methods of Teaching Composition
3. Tuesdays: Honors Thesis
4. Wednesdays: Honors Thesis, Feminist Theory, & ISEP II
5. Thursdays: Honors Thesis
6. Fridays: ISEP II
7. Saturdays: Small assignments (things that I can opt not to do if I want Saturday for myself)

 This is how I do it. I sometimes deviate from this schedule due to work or meetings or other appointments, but for the most part, I adhere to this schedule. I have to work on this kind of schedule so that I can get everything done. I end up having late nights if I deviate too often, and I’m a sleeper, so it really sucks when I have to do that.

As far as appearing to have it all together when I really don’t, that’s another matter entirely. But something that my thesis director has told me is that even when I can’t control anything else, I always have control over my performance as a student. So when everything is falling apart around me, I pour myself into my studies because I have complete control over that.

Something else that has always helped me is something I’ve just been blessed with the ability to do: remain stoic. I absolutely don’t hide things well all the time, but I can easily pretend when I feel it is necessary. I can paste a smile on my face if I need to, and for the most part, no one is the wiser. Only those who know me very well can ever tell if I’m bothered by something.

Talking to my professors has always been a big help as well. When I have a problem and talk to them about it, I can go into class knowing that the expectations haven’t changed, but that my profs at least know where I’m coming from, and they also know they can still pull me aside and say, “get it together. If you really can’t, you need to come talk to me so I can help you.” It opens the gate for external support, and that is always nice to have.

Something else I always try to remember is that it’s okay to have a “falling apart” day every once in a while. There are some days when I don’t do well. I take out my personal problems on others, I complain about everything, I cry my eyes out (not only in private but in public too), stomp my feet, and sigh heavily. These days are necessary. If I can have a “falling apart” day when I need it, I can usually get up the next morning feeling better about things, even if only because I’ve gotten all the super-emotional stuff out of the way.

So yes, I do like to think that I have it together most of the time. However, I too have times in which I only appear to have it together. I just try to remember what I’ve got, what I need to do, and who I need to turn to. It all helps. I don’t always have it together, but I know what to do to make it appear that way, and I know what is necessary to get me back on track.

1. I have two classes that are back-loaded, and I’m angry that all of this work was piled on at the end instead of being distributed evenly.
2. I have some senioritis going on… I hate it.
3. I have a ridiculous amount of stuff to do that has very little to do with actual coursework, but nonetheless has to be completed by the end of the semester.
4. Family life is still pretty stressful, even if we’ve figured out a lot of the problems.
5. I am barely working, but I don’t see how I can work more than I am because of all of the things I have to get done before the end of April.
6. Although I love school, I too am prone to burnout.

As a result, there has been a lot of complaining going on. There has also been a lot of freaking out. It’s not that I fear my work won’t get done, it’s the fear that I’ll turn in shoddy work and have to close the library and have to stay up all night to get it all done anyway. Lucky for me, I believe that life is a competition.

I’m not saying that life is a competition for everyone, but I definitely view it that way. I’m competitive by nature, but oddly enough, I was never much of an athlete. On the other hand, the Mattoon High School class of 2005 was very academically competitive. Although I never had a chance of being valedictorian because I simply could not force myself to do well in some subjects, I have found my niche in college and plan on doing very well here. I will admit that I was as competitive as I could be in high school (I always wanted to be first chair in band for instance, so I practiced my chosen instruments in order to gain that position), but that it has gotten siginificantly worse since I’ve come to EIU.

I know that there are those out there who say life is a dance, or life is a box of chocolates, or life is a show to be enacted for the masses (reality tv, anyone?), but in my world, life is a competition. I may not win every time, but I’m going to do my darndest to give you a run for your money at the very least. I want to be the best writer, the closest reader, the most articulate speaker, the most knowledgable student. Basically, if I have an English class with you, I want to be better than you in every way.

The thing is though, that there is always someone better. I know this, I accept this, I’m so zen about it I can feel my brain waves turning blue already. However, it won’t stop me from trying. I blame my brother. Like Niles and Frasier, Chris and I have always been competitive over who is the smartest, the most creative, the most charming (we like to be teacher’s pets, sue us). The beauty in this is that it can never really be proved one way or the other. Yeah, yeah, Chris has better grades and is actually published, but his smarts and my smarts simply are not the same. It never stops us from competing, and I completely blame this rivalry for something great that I have: self-motivation.

As a couple of my lovely friends have noticed, I do not procrastinate. If I have a spare minute, I’m doing something to learn, to get ahead. If I start early, I have a better chance of producing something worth turning in, something that my professors (hopefully) aren’t rolling their eyes at. To further emphasize this point, I believe that last-minute pressure does not make you write better, it only makes you write faster. I also live at the library… in study carrels unless I’m with a friend. I’m always researching, writing, or reading. One dear friend of mine called my study habits “intense” yesterday, and I would have to agree. I’m intense because I want to win. What am I going to win excatly? I have no idea, but I know it will be good. If nothing else, I will feel like a better prepared professional because I will be more comfortable with my course work.

Life isn’t a competition for everyone, and in some cases, I really do have to accept my mediocrity, but if I don’t have to accept being a mediocre English major, I won’t. I want to be the best. My life is a competition, and if it weren’t, I wouldn’t be as successful as I have been.

I just want to begin this post by stating that I have been a fan of Grey’s Anatomy since the beginning. I was sucked in by the trailer in which George O’ Malley asks his fellow interns, “Does anyone else feel like they have no idea what they’re doing?” and then all of them raise their hands. That seems so sincere to me, so true to life. I mean, I was 17-years-old at the time, on the brink of graduation, unsure of where I was going to go and what I was going to major in,  and pissed off because I had senioritis. Seeing an advertisement for a television show that had characters feeling the exact same way I did had some serious appeal.

That being said, I’m officially disappointed with the way this show has been going lately. Well, I’ve been disappointed since the middle of last season. This show has been so well written (in my professional television-viewing opinion that is), and ever since Isaiah Washington was fired and Kate Walsh was given her own show (which is a rant in and of itself), Grey’s has been incredibly lackluster for me.

Those two actors portrayed complex characters that I loved to loathe and loved to love. They made a difference in the behavior of other characters too. Basically, they made this show work. I know that Washington essentially needed to be fired because of his unprofessional behavior, particularly concerning an incident with T. R. Knight, and I know that Walsh has been a jackpot for ShondaLand Entertainment, but those original cast members have left a great big hole in the program, and nothing and no one has been able to fill it.

I also feel like there’s way too much going on. Story lines that have been ongoing since the beginning (aren’t the writers tired of the friggin’ Derek/Meredith on-again, off-again relationship yet!? Work it or end it already!) are tired and need to be put to rest, and story lines that have gone nowhere but need to (what’s with Lexi reading Meredith the riot act last season and saying nothing at all to her this season?) are remaining on the edge of a major climax but continuing to go absolutely nowhere. I’m ready to make-it-or-break-it with all of these story lines. I’m ready to have a reason to watch the show again.

And why exactly must Izzy be slaughtered off? Katharine Heigl wants to leave the show, but was it really necessary to write in some strange, utterly bogus story line about Denny coming back? I mean, I adore Jeffery Dean Morgan, but I think that whole plot line was a little desperate. Izzy has become a complete nut in the past two seasons, and honestly, I’d rather see Katherine Heigl in 27 Dresses or Knocked Up. I’m really disappointed with how all of this has turned out for Izzy, the one character who seemed able to be less about herself and more about other people. Easily the most loving character on the show. And what is being communicated by killing her off? That the loving people of this world can’t make it because being a loving person is weak. Grey’s Anatomy has turned Izzy into Beth from Little Women.

You know what else is driving me crazy? The rotating characters. They lose Washington and Walsh, and then they cycle through an endless sea of beautiful faces. Unfortunately, these beautiful faces are attached to characters who mean nothing to me as a viewer and do nothing for the other characters in the show. Sadie? Lame. Hated her. Arizona Robbins? Meh… I guess she’s ok. Asperger’s heart surgeon? Yuck. ABC should have let them keep Erica Hahn, even if they were uncomfortable with the lesbian relationship between she and Callie. For a network that prides itself on having one of the most diverse casts on television, they sure are discriminating in that department.

I used to love this show, and now it just gives me a headache. If something doesn’t change soon, I’m probably not going to be watching next season. If things are going to continually unhinge and lack consistency, I am not going to be able to keep watching.  This show used to be awesome, and it has the potential to remain awesome, so I’m begging you, Ms. Rhimes, please get this show straightened out again, I miss the wonderfulness I used to love and relate to.

I never fought harder against that fear monster than I did this past week (or two… or… geez, ok, three). I’m so terrified of ruining my chances of graduating with a degree in English and earning my teaching certificate that I can’t get out of my own head very often. Sure, there are some other circumstances that have contributed to that fear, but mostly, I’d say about 98% of it, is all in my head. I’ve lived with my dad for four years now, and living with him has forced me to become incredibly self-aware, because with there only being two or three of us together at a time (me, my dad, and my brother Hunter), you learn about your strengths and your weaknesses very quickly, and if you’re in my family, you discuss them often.

I want to start off with the weaknesses first, because I think it’s way better to end on a high note. I know that I take school way too seriously. Through my college career though, I’ve come to realize that the obsession is due to a need for control. There are so many things in life that I can not control, but I definitely wield some power over how well I perform in school. I pour myself into my work, and I don’t think about anything else other than the task at hand. This tends to result in burnout because I work on assignments too much for too long, but I’m so afraid of failing (at this point, I get angry with myself if I get a B because that means I must not have worked hard enough) that I push through and work, work, work.

I put entirely too much pressure on myself. I have high standards and I do absolutely everything I can to maintain them (see “Why It’s so Hard to Ask for Help”). This results in high stress levels and makes me a misery to be around. You should see what happens when I fail to meet my high standards. Having high standards is great because it shows that I have some ambition in life, but I certainly put too much pressure on myself to meet them, and I’m always hearing that I’m too hard on myself and that I have to remember that I’m human. Making adjustments is not my strong suit, so it’s a big problem in easing up on myself and allowing for mistakes every once in a while.
I could go on and on about weaknesses, but I think it’s just as important to remind myself of my strengths. And honestly, I think that the strengths have come about from the weaknesses. All of this is linked up in my mind.

I’m ridiculously self-motivated. I live at the library. I’m always researching, writing, studying, grading. If it’s related to my education, I’m doing it at the library. I can’t even really do homework anywhere else at this point. And the funny thing is that I actually want to be doing homework. I have a very curious mind, so I love to research. I feel like I have a lot to say, so I love to write and prepare presentations. I love to learn, so I study and read all the time. I am proud of myself for having such a high GPA (nothing in comparison to someone I know who’s even more hyper about school than I, but still), and I work hard to maintain it or even get a higher GPA than what I currently have. I want to do the work and I want to do well, so I get my booty to the library and work.

I also always push for more. I am terrified of living a life of mediocrity. I didn’t want to be the typical college student, so I accepted the invitation to participate in the Honors English Program. I don’t want to be the typical teacher, so I work hard on my education coursework and make the most of the time I’m given in the high school classroom as a practicum student. Basically, I don’t want to settle. I always want to be working on something, whether it’s improving my teaching abilities or writing a thesis, I always plan on working towards higher achievement. I always want to work at being better.

I’ve decided that there are two ways for me to handle my monster named Fear: I can let my weaknesses guide me, or I can use my strengths to pound him into the ground. I choose to beat the snot out of this monster. I’ve done it before: I was scared of leaving the country, so I signed up to study abroad. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. I can overcome, and there is no better way of doing this than relying on my strengths to put me through and trusting in God to show me the way. I know that I can always improve, but I also trust that God made me the way I am for a reason, and by using the strengths He gave me, I will achieve my goals, and I will not be stuck in mediocrity. Fear will not rule my life, and I refuse to let it be the monster in my life forever, I have to tackle that monster named Selfish sometime.

I also think that my definition of being a strong person requires that I not need help. For my personal definition, I feel that in order to be strong, I have to set my standards high and I have to be able to meet them without needing others to help me do it. My strange mind has it worked out that the best students don’t need to ask questions and they definitely don’t need to use office hours to get their homework done. In short, I feel stupid when I have to go ask for help. If I’m going to be completely honest, I feel like a slacker when I ask. I feel like if I worked harder, then I wouldn’t need someone to explain things to me. I can’t meet my personal high standards if I have to stop and get directions along the way.

I’m starting to learn that what I thought was all wrong though. I’ve always known that there is nothing wrong in asking for help, but I always felt that it was wrong for me to ask for help. The truth is, sometimes I need it. It makes no sense for me to spend two hours sorting my modules out when a five to ten minute conversation with my instructors can fix the problem entirely (ok, so two hours to five minutes is extreme, but you get my drift). This week and last were weeks in which I felt like I could understand nothing. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t wrap my mind around the concepts, and I certainly couldn’t write (aside from that brief shining moment when I wrote about sacreds. What a fluke). I had to swallow my pride and ask for help. It might sound silly, but it’s one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. Getting myself around the UK without a map was easier than this.

The internet has always been a great assistant to me though, and always curious to learn more about myself and human nature in general, I googled: “Why is it hard to ask for help?” You know what I found? A fantastic psychology blog (http://www.spring.org.uk/2008/07/ask-for-help-people-twice-as-likely-to.php) that explained what was found in a study. I know what my own reasons are against asking for help, but the reasons they explained in that article also applied to me. Like almost everyone else, I “grossly underestimate just how willing others are” to help me. Also like most people, I feel that asking for help makes me look weak and sets me up for rejection, and who likes to be rejected? The fact of the matter is though, that more often than not, people are going to say “yes” when you ask for help. Why is that? I have an opinion…

Just like I seriously underestimate the willingness of people to offer help when I ask for it, I also seriously underestimate the amount of love there actually is in this world. News stories make it seem like we all hate each other and that, as my grandmother would say, “We’re all going to Hell in a handbasket.” When it comes to real connections… I’m talking about having a dialogue with individual members of the human race… we’re all more than willing to show a little love. Jesus, the Beatles, and bell hooks have all said that “all you need is love.” Love manifests itself in many ways. Helping others is one of those ways in which we show one another love. While it may be wrong for a teacher to hug a student, it’s never wrong for a teacher to help a student with his/her homework, is it? All we can do is love each other the best we can. In my opinion, asking for help gives me the opportunity to receive love when I otherwise would reject it.

I know, believe me, I know how hard it is to ask for help. But think of it this way: I can spend hours of my own time, watching my brain explode in the process, by the way, trying to figure out a problem, or I can swallow my pride, go to my professors, co-workers, friends, etc., and ask for help. Chances are, whoever I ask will say yes, as my professors said they would help me when I went to them this past week and a half. I made myself vulnerable, but I wasn’t rejected. If nothing else, I gave myself the opportunity to be shown a little love. So don’t be afraid; ask and you shall receive.

“All you need is love, love. Love is all you need” – The Beatles