Use Hypothesis Programming to see my thoughts on these works!
*From Meditation on an Object*
I noticed that I have always positioned William towards myself and away from my window. He sits inward, reflecting on my room. It’s almost as if he’s been looking towards the past instead of the opportunities in front of him. Maybe much like I have. I turned him around tonight, so he could face the stars. I’m hoping that this change might have some supernatural impact on me, but I doubt it will. For now, I’ll have to be content with the state of my transition and this running feeling in my chest.
Even if I’m not one-hundred percent certain of what William means to me, I think it means something that I’m reflecting on his identity. I have been questioning my priorities and my relationships with my friends, and I think that William has largely acted as a scapegoat for my mental dilemmas. Whenever things in life get hard, it’s easier to place blame on people or situations that aren’t yourself. As a result, I mostly blame William for my problems and not protecting me when I need him the most. By trying to understand this dynamic, I think I’m trying to understand larger pieces of my identity as well. Why do I feel the need to rely on objects from my past? Why do I think this singular object is important? Why does the state of my relationship with Krish impact my view of William so much? By examining William, I have discovered that there is so much about myself that I need to learn. However, by accepting that I have a lot of self-reflection to do, I think I’m on the right track of figuring out my identity in college.
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*From Personal Inquiry*
I watched as she got drunk again. This time she slammed Avital’s head into the wall; she was nearly concussed. I hid as she was once again drunk at Sanibel’s birthday party. She had gone into my room to talk to my roommate about me. I sat in the cold outside till 2 a.m.
“Ellie, Sara is in the room right now and saying some pretty nasty things. I don’t think it’s safe for you to come back right now.”
While this happened in the background, I was forced to watch an even more upsetting agenda in the foreground. I observed as Sara chose the shower curtains and even the throw pillows for our “future eight-man.” She chose the room we would go for, Vandy 205, and immediately assumed I wanted to be in it. I felt as if my future happiness and any chance of escaping her were on fire.
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*From Research Inquiry*
Ever since coming to Boston College in the fall, the question I have gotten the most is not about my personality nor about what I’m dorm in. Instead, it is a simple one: Why are you majoring in Russian? And honestly, whenever I answer this question, I leave the asker unsatisfied because I can respond with only one answer – “I don’t know.” This answer typically prompts a further storm of questions. Do I know how to speak Russian? No, not besides common introductions but I am learning more. Is my family Russian? No, we’re all English and German. Do you want to live in Russia? No, I wouldn’t be able to go to Russia even if I wanted to. This has confused many of my friends, classmates, and, most importantly, myself.
There is something about Russia, however, that has piqued my interest. Perhaps it is the fact that it seems so foreign, or maybe it just seems beyond my reach. Something drives me to make their culture and language familiar to me and attainable. I want to understand the Russian perspective on the most important aspects of my life and integrate Russian into my studies. This desire has made me consistently question Russia’s influence on climate change and the environment. As an environmental studies major, we have been told to analyze the political powers of the world and their fossil fuel emissions. Still, in every environmental class I’ve taken, Russia has been underrepresented in the discussion. Because of this, I have decided to investigate a blend of my two current academic passions: Is it in Russia’s best political and economic interests to shift to renewable energy?
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*From Personal Inquiry*
My feelings felt number than my face. Did this chick really just slap me? Talk about the switch-up of the century. My sober self wanted to continue explaining the actual situation, but it was clear she wasn’t listening. Amanda grabbed me away from Sara. She thought that the best thing for us was distance – and she was probably right. We spent the next hour of the night in the uber home, me asking Amanda what I had done wrong and wondering what had happened.
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