Giving without recieving

So, short and simple blog tonight. In the Bible Jesus mentions to act without expecting anything back (Luke 6:35). Simple thought. How often do we truly do something with no thoughts of receiving some type of retribution. I was thinking about this the other day. I'm the worse about this principle when it comes to my family. The other night I helping my sometimes ungrateful brother by painting his baseboard and surrounding trim. He just sat there for two hours watching me paint during which I became agitated by his lack of work. I was assuming since he asked me to paint he would be doing something else at the same time to speed the whole process. Due to my frustration, I didn't help him again for about a week. One day I went by and started helping him scrape this old adhesive off of the floor so he could put new flooring down. Scraping away at his floor with just my thoughts as company proved rather therapeutic. I was think how my brother probably wont thank me for what I was doing and has never helped me pack or move to Norman, but that's okay because I was helping him and showing him my love. Just as this thought was crossing my mind, my brother walked in the room with a portable fan which he plugged in and pointed straight at me. It was a pleasant surprise to realize my brother must be maturating some and how it feels so much better to be rewarded when not expecting it instead of feeling it was owed to you.

-Kristy

Exploring gender roles.

Disclaimer: Just in case you might have wondered....I am in no way reconsidering my sexual orientation. Thought I'd throw that out there (after a title like that, I didn't want you to wonder).



Throughout the summer, a joke within the staff developed in which I was deemed a feminist. This label was attached after an incident occurred on the ropes course during which I made a boy probably about fifteen years old cry after I corrected him. The guys on the ropes staff found this fact very amusing. I was then deemed a feminist and when situations would arise, I was teased about it. Sometimes after they would call me a feminist, I was taken back on how I may be more of a feminist than I ever realized.

One day a guy commented that it was girls like me that killed chivalry. I guess I would frustrate some of the guys by lifting heavier objects or starting a task while guys were just sitting around and could have done the task for me. I never thought of asking them; besides the job had to be accomplished anyway. The guys would often ask to help after I was already in the middle of completing the task when it would really just take more effort for me to stop, so for sake of simplicity I would just finish what I was doing.

For the first 11 years of my life, my younger brother by 2 years and I were the only children of my parents. Since I was the oldest, I seemed to be asked to do just as many chores as my brother Austin. In fact in some instances, like killing spiders, I had to man up and kill the things since I was the oldest. If Austin hadn't been scared of spiders, I probably would still be scared of them, but since we both were scared I conquered my fear and would kill them for the both of us. A common task in childhood was my mother often having Austin and I run into the grocery store with a check she had signed to pick up a couple of items. Once we would reach the checkout area, Austin was always too embarrassed to write out the amount on the check so this task always fell to me. Austin was always willing to have me do any tasks he did not want. I learned one day Austin not only passed off little jobs to me, he actually would find me after mom gave him a job and would tell me that mom told him to tell me to do the task he just was given.

I guess I just grew up never expecting a guy to ask to do a task for me. I generally see no reason why I could not do the task I was asked to do. I'm not amazingly strong for a girl, but I can hold my own in many instances. I probably count too much on this fact, which has lead me twice into fist fights: one in 3rd grade against my brother's friend and another this last Christmas when my brother Austin called me a b*@#@.

I remember being in middle school and realizing the academic subjects I liked were usually considered the "guy" subjects. This revelation happened during a middle school academic meet where I was completing in math. I was in the assigned room taking my math test (for fun I may need to remind you). I looked up because I was having to think about the problem and then I realized there were only 3 other girls in the room with about 35 guys. Math and Science were always my thing, unlike my best friends that really liked Reading and English.

I played sports growing up. My favorite was soccer, but our school system did not have soccer which left me playing soccer in our town's recreational league. Now, part of the reason I may have enjoyed soccer so much was the fact it was co-ed. I loved being really aggressive and stealing the ball away; I frustrated many boys this way which resulted in me being called wonderful names--in fact I was even called a boy by the opposing coach once. It was so funny how I could use being a girl to catch guys off guard toward the beginning of the games. As I got older, fewer girls continued to play; by the time I was in high school, I was the only girl still playing. My team thought it would be fun to play in a legitimate tournament, so we signed up for the event. We signed up for the guy's bracket since they did not have a co-ed league and as stated before I was the only girl anyway. I will never forget our game winding down and the next team showing up. It was a guy's team and could hear them on the side lines commenting on a girl being on our team. I stole the ball from a guy and the guy's team on the sideline started screaming for me. They were yelling, "you go girl" and random stuff. I thought it was so funny.

I was a bit of a tomboy growing up. I'll be the first to admit that. I just feel like society has placed me in such an awkward position. I found it throughly interesting that the guys this summer didn't want me carry things on my own, yet they seem to have no problem with me wanting to be a doctor which is a very male dominated field. These guys never felt they need to restrain any perverted comments about girls or themselves while I was around, yet when I decided to say something awkward as retribution the guys would protest.

When I was a child, I remember telling my mother I was going to marry a man that would cook and clean while I would watch Monday Night Football. I am certainly not the biggest girlie girl, but I do enjoy my romantic comedies and getting all dressed up for no reason. It seems that as long as I don't push my strength too hard, I can get by. Its when I do something (which apparently can be lots of things) that makes a guy no longer feel manly that I apparently am a feminist. I think my solution to the whole situation will be as follows: I am only going to hang out with real manly men that will be okay with me trying whatever as long as they are there to get me out of a jam, kinda like the girl with the Ninja Turtles.

-Kristy

Abstract becomes reality

I've already written about death a couple of times now. Generally when I hear/think of the concept of death, I try to convince myself I have a good grasp on the natural cycle of life and do not have have any form of the various death anxieties discussed in my philosophy class. On my drive to Falls Creek, I got a phone call from a girl from I live with at camp informing me of a death of a fellow staff member. I think I have a rather stoic response to death. I still keep thinking of this boy that is no longer with us. I keep remembering his wonderful smile and the white beanie his wore. I can't say I knew him too well. I was excited he was transferring to OU and he was amazing in jungle pong. He will greatly be missed. Don't have much else to say. I'll be thinking and praying for his family in the next days, weeks, and years to come. May we all be mindful of how precious and limited our lives are.

-Kristy

comparisons

So, I've had a lot of different topics to be writing my blog about, but it just hasn't been too inspiring once I started writing--although for the few of you that even read this I of course have no idea if my blogs ever are inspiring or interesting. A big issue I had to deal with once I arrived at Falls Creek was comparing last summer to the current summer. I have realized that maybe the best course of action is never trying to recreate an experience that was just so amazing the first time around. Comparison is such a demon. I am having to actively tell myself that even though this is the same place I was last year and I am doing basically the same task this is a completely new and different summer. I always thought that one of the saddest movie characters is the uncle in Napoleon Dynamite. He is probably in his 40's and just constantly retelling his football glory story. I hate to admit it but I can somewhat understand this pathetic behavior once I arrived at falls creek. I was being constantly reminded of last summer and making me sentimental in some ways.

I feel a little scandalous writing this at falls creek....but as crazy as this parallel may be I can very clearly understand one really good reason for staying a virgin until you get married. In my rather limited ventures of holding hands and kissing, I have kissed enough boys to where I can compare various aspects of it. Like simply one boy was shorter than me while the other was taller. I don't want to freak my mother and other family members that read this too much more. I'll move on.

There's the saying that assuming makes an a** out of you and me (watch out this post is getting explicit...) but I think comparing causes much more damaging and fool-creating results. I guess comparisons are needed for some ways like teaching devices but I'm not sure of their benefit in general use. In the book Sex. God. (one of the few books I got to read this last summer) it talks about the problem of comparison when judging a girl or guy on appearances. I loved the way the author addressed this by saying that the problem is when the "she" becomes an "it". When the girl with a past, personality, and humanity is stripped down to skin and bone, only being viewed like a piece of meat and looking at what was mainly genetically predetermined before she was born (sorry this is a bit of a tangent).

I've been trying to work on limiting my comparisons of people and events. I'm starting to see much more depth to staff members from last year that I had already compared to other people and formed my opinion of them. Individuality was something that I always valued for myself, but I'm starting to realize that I don't seem to allow other this same value. Comparisons might be needed for illustration purposes and essential to sociology, but I'm not convinced they are good for life. Just my random thoughts for the day!

-Kristy

Childhood

So finals are over and one of my most hectic semesters is completed (assuming I passed the two classes which don't have grades posted yet!! ah!). I've been back at home and having all kinds of flashbacks to my childhood and even random events from high school. I got to watch my youngest brothers participate in the Little Olympics and it brought me back to all sorts of memories in track, from competing in long jump in grade school to almost qualifying for state my freshmen year in long jump. Church always makes me reminisce of my varying enthusiasm throughout childhood and my bitterness and disillusioned feelings currently. Just being in my bedroom brings memories of moving around my furniture at 10pm deciding I needed a change. These memories also have brought mixtures of frustration, regret, happiness, ironic laughter, and many more. The thing about the past is just that, its over. While I have some anxiety of the coming summer plans and fall courses, I'm trying to remember its the little things like bike rides around the block with Mitch or playing DDR with Justin or watching Austin treat his dog like royalty which are usually the most memorable moments of any life.

-Kristy

Politics

I once had great ambitions for and wholly unabated belief in my government much like James Stewart character in the great Frank Capra film Mr. Smith goes to Washington. I LOVED the thought of democracy and how every citizen counts. I remember the first time I voted in a presidential race. I was pretty naive about the candidates and choose who I remembered my parents talking about in our house. I voted for George Bush Sr. when my kindergarten class had an election at my grade school. If I remember correctly, he won overwhelmingly in our school when the results where announced on the intercom. I also have a couple random memories of President Clinton, his impeachment proceedings, and the infamous Al Gore's lock box analogy.

My first constant exposure with politics started when I was in middle school. I was on the academic team which meant I happily participated in spending some weekends on trips with my team to other schools to take hour long subject specific test, have them scored, and then award metals to the top three performances in each subject and grade. Yes, I was a nerdy child. I choose math as my subject and kind of liked being one of the few girls in the room taking the math test. I decided during my 2nd year on the team that I should participate in another subject, so I choose current events and started watching CNN all of the time.

I remember the first politician that caught my attention and it was Orin Hatch, a representative from Utah. He was vying for the Republican nomination for presidency in 2000. I don't remember exactly what I liked about him so much, but I do remember him talking about increasing teach pay, so maybe that's why I liked him. I was annoyed when George H W Bush gained the nomination. I also liked a man no one remembers now that ran for a Senate Seat in New York. I once again backed the wrong horse and saw the infamous Hilliary Clinton start her first term in the Senate. With my track record in politics it should be no surprise the one time I bet on a horse in a 12 horse run......you guessed it, my horse was the literal last horse to cross the line.

In high school I tried to be very up-to-date on all of the foriegn issues of our country. I completed for two years in speech and did an event called Foreign Extemporaneous Speaking which required a lot of knowledge of the current foreign events.

One of the first times I had a really mixed feeling about politics was when it was stated from the pulpit. Religion and Politics are scary thing sometimes. In some ways I think they are like oil and water, not mixing at all. The controversy of politics is how any issue really comes down to the fundamental beliefs and perceptions of the individual. If we say we love all of God's people and then preach against a "homosexual agenda" are we really showing love towards people? If we attend a church mainly composed of one ethnic group and have a preacher passing on ignorance and bitterness of another ethnic group are we uniting fellow believers of Christ?

While I don't think politics and religion can or should mix in this way, one can not deny a person's religious beliefs will influence their politics. What I have come to grow very weary of is a politician using their religion as a means to prove their morality or their worthiness. And then the media even claims a new faith for a candidate that has been a member of a different church for 20 years (I'm pretty sure on the number, but not 100%).

I am really anxious about this up and coming election. Our country faces some serious issues and I hate to see party push for its candidate by using some of George W Bush's antics of seemingly using his faith as a tool. Politics is a cut-throat, grueling activity. As it says in one of my favorite movies, "politics is perception". This is a pretty scary thought. I have a candidate this time that I am completely rooting for. If truth be told, I have cried twice listening to their speeches, being so moved. I see in them the things I want to believe and desperately hope for, but as the quote above suggest I yearn that this isn't just a perception I'm supporting. While I will be devastated if my candidate does not win, the funny thing about politics is after voting you just have to go along with the new president's decisions and hope in four years, you can vote for a person you do like and pray they win.

Sure, you all might say how pessimistic I'm being and how I can always write to my representatives, but after taking the time to write to two house members about a bill VERY directly effecting me, I saw them both not only voting against the way I wanted, but never receiving any type of response back ; not even a general automatic response of thanks for writing that is VERY easy to set up in an email account! I once greatly believed in the power of an individual's voice in our government and even had ambitions of running for office myself. That belief is almost all but diminished. I have one candidate I hope for. They wrote about the audacity of hope once and I want to believe them. I guess that is all I'm asking for. HOPE.

-Kristy

A somewhat constant part of my morning routine

I am NOT nor I imagine shall ever be a morning person. I despise getting up any earlier than 9:30 or so. As I lay in my bed most mornings contemplating how much longer I can hit the snooze button, I sometimes think how wonderful it would be to have a loving husband beside me. He would lovingly shake my shoulder and say, (without morning breath of course, because my husband won't suffer from any form of halitosis) "Honey, its time to get up."

After this scene plays out in my head, I think of needing to get married ASAP so I will have this wonderful person to help me get to class on time! Of course my proceeding though of marriage is all of the responsibility that would be added to my life and the need for myself to be a little more mature and stable. I conclude this dialogue in my head (by which I probably could have taken a shower and had makeup applied during all of this time instead of thinking) by resolving I need a more obnoxious alarm clock to get me up!

-Kristy