Everything Matters... Or Does It?

        I have always thought that you could divide the human population into two main groups: those who care too much and those who care too little. I fall into the former, which is unfortunate because I will probably have an ulcer by the time I am thirty. So you could reasonably assume that a book about how literally EVERYTHING matters would only add more stress to my level. Yet, ironically, Ron Currie Jr’s Everything Matters! has helped me see what does not matter. I felt like Currie spoke directly to me when he wrote "This is the key you have learned— to relinquish control.” The source of my stress is that I try to control too much; I try to will everything in my life to be perfect. It never works. Everything may matter, but some things matter more than others. Sometimes I just have to let go and allow the chips to fall where they may. Instead, I obsess over decisions because I do not want to avoid negative consequences at all costs. But, Currie shows time and time again that you can never fully predict the consequence of your actions. Every path will inevitably have some good and some bad at the end, so I just have to decide. However, I realize that trying to let go and accept that you cannot control life is easier said than done. Especially when you consider the high maintenance, over-achiever, control freaks (yet lovable) that make up AP English. A mere fire drill in the middle of an essay can set us over the edge as we knock over freshman to get back to the room with Ms. Serensky shouting, "Run, nerds, run!" Nevertheless, I think everyone (or mostly just me) could benefit from a little perspective and perhaps a redistribution of priorities. If feel like at this point in my life, I can go in any direction I want. I can "pick a self. Any self." When I go off to college I have the opportunity to turn into anyone I want. I could choose to continue to be that self that obsesses over minor details that I have no control over. Or, I could work harder to not work so hard. I used to think that where I chose to go to college was so important. The simple location could determine whether or not I get a good education, enjoy myself, and succeed in life. And the college does matter. But, not as much as what I do when I get there. After reading the book, I truly think that anyone can make themselves happy anywhere, if they try hard enough. Because honestly, “anything, anything, anything is possible.”

The Final Countdown

1. When I finally decided to go to OSU. I think I had subconsciously chosen OSU in the back of my mind months before I sent in my acceptance letter. It just took me a much longer time to actually commit.  “So yes, there is a correct choice,” and I finally realized that the Ohio State University is the correct choice for me (Currie 264).
2. Winning the Angela’s Ashes paper for my character Grandma Sheehan. I cannot even guess how many hours I spent revising and rereading those few pages. But when Ms. Serensky announced my name, I filled with joy and thought to myself “Oh, pleasure, pleasure!” (Wilde 2).
3. Passing the physics exam. I have never felt particularly strong in science, and physics seemed like an entirely different language to me. If I had “weeks, or months, or even years” to study, I may still have not understood angles of reflection (Kesey 158). But, somehow, I managed to pull off a passing score. I still suspect divine intervention. Or a grading mistake.
4. Painting my face. I love art classes even though I have no discernable artistic talent. Even the simplest tasks in painting class, such as making a color wheel, proved difficult. For the final project, we all had to paint a giant portrait of someone’s face. Since “We live, I regret to say, in an age of surfaces,” I decided to paint my own face (Wilde 47). Maybe the painting did not look exactly like me, but I felt really proud of my work and the portrait at least resembled a human.
5. My Capote paper. Near the end of AP English 11, I felt unnerved by the increasingly open-ended topics for Ms. Serensky’s papers. After we watched Capote, we wrote a short paper comparing the movie to the book and I could not decide which source to pull quotes from, among other concerns. I did not feel very confident at all when I turned in the assignment. However, I got the paper back with a sticker and one of my highest rubric scores to date! Getting a good grade always “makes everything you have suffered worthwhile, in retrospect” (Currie 261).
6. Mark Wood. What’s that you say? Who is Mark Wood? If you do not know, then you must have been living under a rock. “He is not one who’s sole aim is enjoyment,” my friend, he has played as the string master for the Trans-Siberia Orchestra and wears possibly the tightest pants ever created (Wilde 23). Freshman year, Mark Wood came with his electric six-stringed violin, “the Viper,” to play with our high school orchestra. We played classical music with a twist, as well as rock. He played with us during the concert and had many enthusiastic solos. He also descended from the ceiling in flames. Ok, that is a lie, but everything else is true. I hope that each and every one of you has an opportunity to meet this man.
7. Understanding French. In French 4 last year, everyone in the high school French program went on a field trip to the art museum. The younger kids would get a tour and presentation in English, while the higher levels had a tour spoken only in French. I, naturally, wanted to go on the English one, but got stuck with the French-only version. The tour guide started talking and I wanted to say, hold it “I told you I’m not up on this talk” (Kesey 69). But as I listened, I started to realize that I could comprehend what she was saying. And the more I listened, the more sense it made!  
8. To Kill a Mocking Bird assignment. For Honors English 10, we had several assignments revolving around Harper Lee’s famous novel. One project allowed us to make a newspaper for the town of Maycomb; one side of the newspaper detailed the town events when the book took place and the other side dealt with present day events. I got really into the assignment and found vintage advertisements and wrote a FDR-style “Fireside Chat” as one of the articles. I felt “a happiness so strong” when Ms. Beach asked to keep it as an example for future classes. (Currie).
9. The first time I made it onto the blog banter. No matter what, you know you want to get on that banter, you want the recognition. “What other reason would we have for submitting ourselves to” the brutal work that goes along with AP English (Kesey 59)? Ms. Serensky first mentioned my blog after I wrote about a dream in which I had a lobotomy, much like McMurphy. I just had to make it to the point where English completely ruled my life and subconscious in order to earn a spot on the banter.  
10. Surviving freshman biology. For those of you who did not have the experience of being in either of my biology classes freshman year, you should feel grateful.  “Where questions of self-sacrifice are concerned,” no one can top what we poor freshman endured (Wilde 44). One of my classmates was unknowingly tied to his chair and fell over when he tried to stand. One of the people who sat near would hum some song from a Disney channel movie every day. THE SAME SONG. Another student tried to leave class thirty minutes early after he fell asleep and thought class had ended when he awoke. But, I survived and even learned a thing or two.

 

Here are some classic quotes about Mark Wood from his official website:

Celine Dion - "It's amazing what he can do with a violin and a bow"

The Professor - WFBG - Altoona, PA - "Not only are his CDs curious listening, they are astounding listening, as Wood breaks acres of new ground . . . I need not say more - listen and discover Mark Wood for yourself . . . [It] is THAT impressive."

CBS News - "You gotta see this guy to believe it!"

http://www.markwoodmusic.com/html/about.html

 

You Used To Love Me Well

              I will readily admit that poetry is not high on the list of things that I love. AP English 12 has helped me come to understand and appreciate the art of poetry, but I do not quite love it yet. However, there was one poem that I think brought me close to loving poetry: “Sestina” by Ciara Shuttleworth. To refresh everyone’s memory’s, the poem used only the six words “You used to love me well” in various arrangements (1-6). Even though the poem only uses six different words, it has so many different meanings. It used to annoy me that one poem could have so many interpretations. The idea of having an infinite number of meanings behind one set of word stresses me out; it makes me feel like “I’ve got no control” (Currie 12). But, Shuttleworth used the possible ambiguity and multiple analyses to enhance her poem. The speaker’s tone could be at times accusatory, ashamed, playful, or regretful, among other possibilities. It all depends upon how you choose to read the poem, how long the pauses last, how forceful the exclamatory syntax is, among other components. Although the speaker seems to start off angry, he/she slowly concedes that they each hold blame in their failed relationship because “People make mistakes” (Currie 39). They both used each other. The speaker seems to reach an acceptance of the situation by the end of the poem, almost as if he/she thinks to him/herself “you have no one to blame but yourself” (Currie 19). However, the realization does not have to result in bitterness. Once again, that decision rests with your interpretation. The way that you choose to interpret the poem really says a lot about you. I choose to think that the speaker moved from anger to acceptance and would soon progress to love again. I guess that makes me somewhat optimistic. Therefore, I liked “Sestina” because it showed me that I can enjoy poetry while also learning something about myself.

Dibben?!

              One fateful day, during the third quarter of AP English 12, Ms. Serensky gave the class an assignment. The task was “‘Very simple, really’” (Kesey  293). Every writing pair had to write a seven to ten line poem that gave insight into the events of the previous night’s reading for Amsterdam. I will admit that I am no gifted poet; however, I luckily had the two editors of Prism to aid me. Unfortunately, Haley, Sarah, and I managed to make this simple task extremely difficult. We first had to pick certain words from our assigned section, prior to knowing they would be used in a poem. We choose such easily applicable words as “urinal” and “dyslexic.” The short section we had to analyze consisted of some rather bizarre and unconnected events: Vernon having an awkward conversation with an employee in the bathroom and a disgruntled dyslexic woman losing her job. Although the task at hand was to give insight, we seemed more determined to make the events less intelligible. I knew that the poem was not exactly prize-winning material, but I could not stop laughing long enough to form a sentence to say that. So naturally, I just tried to convince myself that the poem actually made sense. What can I say, “my powers of self-delusion are sort of epic” (Currie 97). When it came time for our group to read the poem, I figured we might be able to trick the class into thinking the poem made sense if we read it really well. After all, “In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing” (Wilde 44). Sadly, we mustered neither style, nor sincerity for the occasion. Each of us took turns attempting to read our unintelligible poem to the class, but it ended in a fit of laughter. I literally had tears rolling down my cheeks while the rest of the class stared in confusion. It’s like when you try to retell a story that was so funny in the moment, but nobody really gets it a second time around, except it happened on a much larger scale this time. The three of us sat there laughing for the rest of the class period for no apparent reason. A few days later, we got the poem back; Ms. Serensky noted in purple ink, “Kind of confusing.” Honestly, that is an understatement. I located the actual poem and put below for you all to read. When I found it I started laughing again. I do not even know why. I guess that’s why it was my favorite day.

Dibben?!

Vernon!

Don’t approach him at the urinal,

Lest he come a turnin’

You want to write it in your journal

Dibben?

He halfheartedly apologized,

Not wanting to end in a wheelchair. Dibben?!

Vernon was not surprised

When the irresistible Clive phoned.

 But was, when the dyslexic moaned.

The End.

 

The Interrogation

Not-Eric: Colonel Matterson, I presume you know why I am here.

Col: Hello…

Not-Eric: The federal government believes you possess some very important information.

Col: Hello…

Not-Eric: You served in World War Two and subsequent conflicts. “‘Is this factual, so far?’” (Currie 218).

Col: Why, thank you. World War Two is… thank you.

Not-Eric: I’m not following you, but no matter. We are here to discuss another subject entirely. It is rumored that during your time in the army you were involved in a top secret organization that created some sort of pact between Mexico and the United States. Can you recall any of this information? It is a matter of national security.

Col: “‘The flag is… America. America is the… plum’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: The plum? Is that some sort of code? If so, I am not familiar. Please elaborate.

Col: “The peach. The wah-ter-me-lon. America is… the gumdrop” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Is this an evasion tactic? It will not work on me, “‘I live for a living. That’s my job’” and I can spot another liar from a mile away (Currie 217).

Col: “‘The pump-kin seed. America is… the tell-ah-vision’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: I’m warning you Colonel, if you don’t start talking “I’m gonna get real weird with it.” I have methods of making people talk that you do NOT want to experience.

Col: “‘Now… The cross is… Mexico’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Well, well, you seem to have understood me old man. Tell me more about how Mexico was involved in this scheme.

Col: “‘Mexico is… the wal-nut’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Hmmm…. The walnut? Does that mean they were the brains of the operation? That must be where the headquarters are located! Now we’re getting somewhere, go on.

Col: “‘Mexico is… wooden’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Yes, I see what you mean. That will present a problem, but with our firepower I think we can manage. What else can you tell me?

Col: “‘Now… The green sheep is… Canada’” (Kesey 135)

Not-Eric: Canada? They’re involved in this too? I wonder just how deep this whole thing goes… I have to alert my superiors, this whole situation is way bigger than we ever imagined!   

McMurphy and Multiple Choice

            I don’t typically much like this sorta thing. Bunch a “intellectuals,” or whatever they are, sittin’ round talking about who knows what. It’s not really my scene. But I surely do like one thing, and that’s games. “‘I like to gamble. And I like to win’” (73). This here multiple choice game we’re playing today in AP English class is gonna give me the perfect opportunity to win big. Those kids are so cocky; they look at ol’ McMurphy and think that I’ve never had an intelligent thought in my whole life. Boy will I prove ‘em wrong. “‘Oh, I’m a thinker alright’” (107). As I walk into the room, I see all the little desks arranged in nice little groups. How cute. The teacher stuck me in a group cause nobody would take me, their loss. Maybe it’s cause I haven’t bothered to learn anyone’s name yet. A group of boys walks into the room and one of them announces, “The Dream Team is back!” These kinds clearly think they got this thing in the bag. Now my part starts: “Pst kid, c’mere… You so sure you gonna win? Yeah? Well why not make a lil bet of it?” The kid stares at me uncertainly, so I continue, “$50 bucks your group doesn’t win and mine does.” He starts to smirk and I can tell he thought it a sure bet. We shake hands and then he sits down. Getting him to make the bet is the easy part, now I just have to turn these kids against each other. With a little encouragement they’ll be looking like a “‘Bunch of chickens at a peckin’ party’” (57). The group begins to go over answers and it gives me the perfect opportunity to sabotage. I quickly whisper to my group members, “don’t pay no attention to what I’m saying, I’m just gonna try ta throw the other groups off.” I raise my voice and shout, “Naw, I really think number 27 is C, I mean it’s clearly a simerlie. Hey you, don’t you dare put D for number four or you’ll be losing big time.” The kids stare at me in shock as I continue to yell and call people out. Short after, the teacher calls time and you just shoulda seen the looks on their faces. Not a single group has finish fillin’ out their sheets, what a pity. One kid from each group stands up to deliver their incomplete answers. The teacher starts to read through all the answers nice and slow-like, trying to build suspense. She even has a kid keeping score and such. Haha all them kiddies is starting to sweat, but not me, no siree I am cool as a cucumber. I glance at the clock and the day’s just about over. My team’s in the lead and there aint no chance of any team catching up. I lean over to the kid on the Dream Team and say, “Cash’ll do just fine, thank you very much.”

Talking with Nurse Ratched

Nurse Ratched: Katherine Connolly, 18 years of age, appears to be in good health. Miss Connolly… Would you mind telling me again why you are here?

Me: What? Oh, yeah, sure. Well, I basically think I should be locked up.

Nurse Ratched: That is not the type of terminology we prefer to use. Do you mean that you think you are a good candidate for one of our psychiatric wards?

Me: Um… Yep. I’m pretty much nuts.

Nurse Ratched: That has yet to be determined. And we do not call our patients “nuts,” they are simply here because of their “inability to adjust to society” (167).

Me: Oh, I see. As of late I have not been very capable of adjusting to society.

Nurse Ratched: And why is that?

Me: To be honest I do not exactly know why. But I do know when it started.

Nurse Ratched: Oh? When?

Me: My junior year of high school…during AP English 11.

Nurse Ratched: What is that?

Me: An English class designed for the more… let’s just say more motivated students.

Nurse Ratched: And what exactly did this class entail?

Me: Reading and writing and talking. Then reading and writing and talking some more. It just kept going and going and going.

Nurse Ratched: So the class required a lot of work?

Me: A lot of work? A LOT OF WORK??? I ate, slept, and breathed AP English. I had a recurring nightmare in which I had to analyze a sentence that did not have ONE literary device in it. I would fall asleep in my other classes and wake with a start shouting, “It’s a synecdoche!” So yes, it was a lot of work.

Nurse Ratched: Before choosing to take this course were you informed of the many requirements?

Me: I heard it would be difficult, but I never thought it could possibly be as difficult as it turned out. But it wasn’t just the hard work…

Nurse Ratched: What do you mean by that?

Me: I do not know how to explain it. It’s just that the teacher had so many… rules! I had to put heading after heading on every piece of paper, I had to put the essay on TOP of the prompt, I had to pull quotes AND apply literary devices.

Nurse Ratched: Perhaps your teacher had a reason for doing so, after all, “everyone… must follow the rules” (25). Society puts in place certain guidelines in order to maintain a necessary balance and pattern. We must have some rules and you surely will find no lack of them here.

Me: It’s not like I mind rules or I have issues with authority or something. We just had so many rules to keep track of and I did not want to ask for clarification because— because, never mind.

Nurse Ratched: Miss Connolly, I think you were about to say something very important. I know you may feel reticent or self-conscious, but the only way we can make progress is if you are totally and completely honest with me. Now why is it that you did not want to ask for clarification on the rules?

Me: I, uh, well… I was scared!

Nurse Ratched: And what, per say, frightened you?

Me: [long pause] The teacher… Ms. Serensky

Nurse Ratched: What made you so afraid of her?

Me: She said she doesn’t like stupid people and I was afraid she would think I was stupid if I asked any questions or said anything. So I kept my mouth shut.

Nurse Ratched: Is that what led to your breakdown?

Me: Yes, right in the middle of a graded discussion. I just lost it. I started throwing desks and ripping pages out of books. But, I want to get better I really do. Do you think you can help me?

Nurse Ratched: Yes, I believe so. “We have weeks, or months, or even years if need be” (158).