Sunday, November 21, 2010

Being articulate (or not).

My inability to be articulate has really been getting me down lately. I struggle so much with putting my thoughts into words. I want to be able to talk about my opinions on certain issues; I want to share what's on my mind with others who are as interested in discussing similar subjects because, as my social psych professor said, sometimes talking about things in groups can help you understand or become clearer on certain points, or even generate new ideas. But if I can't even figure out the right words to put forth the thoughts I have, how am I supposed to get anywhere? It's just frustrating, and I'm not sure what to do about it.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Honesty and directness.

I've talked with a couple of people (*waves to Lily and Liz*) about sugarcoating things vs. being completely direct with your words, and I've been meaning to blog about this for a while but haven't gotten around to it until now.

From my experience, most Americans, when communicating with others, tend to be very careful in their wording and are always trying to make sure to phrase things in a way that won't come off as offensive. Which makes sense- people want to be able to put their thoughts and opinions out there, but in a way that doesn't have the potential to start drama or make anybody angry or upset. However, although I understand the logic behind this mindset, I don't believe it is the best approach to take in most situations. Obviously, there are times where it is important to hold back and be careful with how you phrase things, but in most situations, I feel that being direct and saying exactly what you think is a much more effective way to communicate than sugarcoating your words.

When grading/editing papers or essays, for example, I think it is very important for teachers (or anyone else people let look over their paper) to give both thorough and honest feedback. If a person's work is filled with mistakes, each one of them should be pointed out; if there are a number of ways in which the person needs to improve, those should be indicated as well. Lily mentioned hearing about something called the "sandwich method," in which a teacher "sandwiches" a criticism in between two compliments, which we both thought sounded absolutely ridiculous. Not that I object to giving compliments or anything, but I believe that both compliments and constructive criticism should be given when needed, not in this forced format where pointing out each aspect that the student needs to improve will be overshadowed by so many positive points that they might not even notice the negatives. When I got back my first Shakespeare paper last semester, there was not a single positive comment on it- yes, I was disappointed with how badly I did, but because my TA gave me such detailed feedback, I knew what I needed to work on. Many people asked me to edit their essays in high school because they knew I would be honest with them and help them fix their mistakes/strengthen any weak areas. If teachers become so concerned with not wanting to hurt a student's feelings that it prevents them from giving the best help they can, how is that going to help them?

Another thing that bothers me is when people are constantly trying to hint at things instead of directly saying them, because they're afraid to or feel uncomfortable for whatever reason. Many times, when people try to hint things at me, I just end up ignoring them because it bothers me so much that they won't just come out and say what they want. Especially since at times when I have addressed people's hints directly, they'll say something like "Oh, no, no, it's okay," and just wave it off, and then I get mad because I know they want what they've been hinting at, so why do they keep making me go further to try and unearth their issue? What could have been over and done with in an instant if the person had just brought it up directly becomes this whole jumbled mess of passive-aggressiveness and creates a problem where there never needed to be one.

Oh, and just in case it comes across this way, I'm not an advocate at all for people being overly harsh or mean. There's definitely a fine line between honesty and being brutal, and there are some situations when telling the total truth isn't helpful at all. I just feel that in many circumstances, people choose to sugarcoat their words or beat around the bush so they won't cause problems, despite the fact that being completely honest gets their point across directly and leaves no room for ambiguity.

Friday, April 23, 2010

College.

Last semester, I took a class called "Language, Culture and Communication in the U.S." which, unfortunately, ended up being much more of an annoyance than an enjoyable learning experience. However, during the first couple of classes, the professor enforced the idea that students in college struggle to find a balance between actually learning new information and doing well in classes so that they'll be able to have a certain job/career. Obviously, everyone in an academic setting wants to do well and get good grades- but I feel like the degree to which people actually want to obtain knowledge tends to be a lot more variable. While some people genuinely seem interested in taking classes and learning new things, others' main concern is the grades they get. Mastery of the information takes a backseat to performance.

I'm writing about this topic because I recently realized that, for me, college has been a lot more about doing well in classes rather than actually learning, and I think that's one of the reasons why I've been dissatisfied with my college experience. In high school, I worked hard and studied because I was genuinely interested in the material. Of course there were a few classes that I wasn't a huge fan of and didn't particularly enjoy, but for the most part, I loved my classes and I loved learning. Even when the workload got overwhelming at times, I was still motivated to work hard, because I cared about my classes. I enjoyed learning about the nervous system and myelinated neurons and the nodes of Ranvier. I loved acting out Macbeth and discussing the themes of Great Expectations. I was interested in all the historical events that took place both in the United States and around the world. I liked school and I liked learning; yes, I worked hard, but I had fun at the same time.

Now, though, I feel like academics have become more tedious and frustrating than interesting. My classes were mostly all right during my first year at college, but this past year has been disappointing. Writing papers has become incredibly stressful, and I no longer have faith in my ability to come up with a strong thesis or good supporting points. Getting myself to read textbooks and review notes was never my favorite thing in the world, but it used to be so much easier for me to convince myself to sit down and study. My outlook on school used to be a lot more oriented around learning and understanding new things and expanding my knowledge- now I feel like the only reason I even do work and study anymore is so that I can get good grades. And this depresses me, because I don't want grades to be my only motivation. I want to work hard because I like and care about my classes. I miss being inspired and excited and wanting to do well and learn for the sake of learning, not just so that my GPA won't drop. And I hate that college, a place where I feel like I should be enjoying my classes more than I did in high school since I get to choose them and am supposed to be focusing on a subject I'm interested in, has become an environment that has depleted my love of learning and made school entirely about stress and struggling to get decent grades.

I guess all I can do is do my best and work hard, and hope that in the next two years, I'll be able to get more out of the academic aspects of college than I have in this past year. Or maybe I'll just drop out of college and get a job at Red Mango, so that I can give my friends extra mochi on their frozen yogurt. :P (No, I won't really drop out. But I would love to get a job there for the summer!)

Monday, February 22, 2010

Divergent thinking.

It's been almost a year since my last update here...fail, I know. But every time that I'd thought about something I wanted to write about, I either forgot what it was (this happened a lot, actually, I'd be like "Hey, I want to talk about this in my blog!" and then later I'd be like "Oh, fuck, what was I going to write about again?" *headdesk*) or, by the time I'd start to talk about a certain topic, I wouldn't feel as intensely about it anymore as I did when I was thinking about it before, so I figured there was no point in continuing the entry. Words without passion behind them, in my opinion, are just...empty, and what's the point on sharing your thoughts on a certain subject if there's no meaning behind it? I wouldn't want to read that, and I certainly don't want to write something like that.

(By the way, I'm not saying that every single thing I talk about is loaded with meaning and has deep thought behind it. Honestly, I think over half the things I write are overflowing with flaily keymashes and capslock abuse- and when I'm writing about things that have happened in my day/life, I usually don't put that much thought into it unless I'm reflecting on something- but if I'm going to spend the time to discuss a specific topic)

Anyway, what I really came here to talk about is divergent thinking.

If anyone reading this isn't familiar with that term, divergent thinking is the process of coming up with a bunch of different answers for one question or problem. When you've answered open-ended or essay questions in school, you're using divergent thinking. House uses divergent thinking when he tries to figure out how to figure out whatever mysterious illness is causing a patient's symptoms. Basically, you have multiple approaches you can take to to arrive at an answer- and, depending on the situation, it may or may not be the same answer, but it's still a working solution. This contrasts with convergent thinking, in which there is only one solution to a problem and usually only one way to approach it. For example, if you're taking a test that requires you to provide definitions, there's only one answer you can give- whatever the definition of that word is.

I'm a huge advocate of divergent thinking. I had trouble phrasing the above paragraph without making me sound biased, because I think that being able to approach one problem or issue or idea in many different ways is amazing and something that people tend to underestimate. If everyone had the same views on everything, I feel like we'd never get anywhere. Yes, different perspectives can cause conflicts, and sometimes it can be incredibly frustrating when two sides oppose each other so strongly that it seems like the issue in question will never get solved. However, if one person comes up with what they believe to be the only solution to a problem and everyone else just goes along with it, that won't necessarily work out; if there are any major flaws in the plan, it would be a lot better to point them out as soon as possible and try to fix/work around them, rather than attempt to pick up the pieces after the original plan falls apart. That's why I'm always so interested in hearing different people's perspectives on things- it's always so intriguing to me to hear all the various ways that people feel about the same topic. Even if I don't agree with someone else's point of view, at least I can understand where they're coming from.

I feel like society (at least in America) emphasizes convergent thinking more than divergent thinking- I was discussing this with one of my friends, and she said that's because it can be tested more easily, which is true, but it just frustrates me. Not that I don't think convergent thinking is important- there are definitely cases in which there's only one solution to a problem and it just needs to be solved as quickly and efficiently as possible- but I hate the fact that things like memorization and repetition seem to be valued more than independent thought and understanding. Of course it's important to memorize things and know your information, but if you just have the facts in your head but don't grasp the underlying concepts, then how much is that really worth?

The definition of convergent thinking on Wikipedia states that "it generally means the ability to give the correct answer to standard questions that do not require significant creativity." And that makes me a little upset, honestly, because why would anyone want to plant the idea in people's minds that creativity isn't important? I know I'm exaggerating slightly, and that there are so many people out there who appreciate unique thoughts and ideas, but it just scares me to think of anyone reinforcing the idea that thinking creatively doesn't matter as long as you're able to memorize facts and perform well on tests. I just value independent thought and creativity so much, and I think it deserves just as much of a focus- I feel like people so greatly underestimate these things, and it makes me sad and frustrated because the ability to express your thoughts and ideas is something that, to me, should never be put down.

I could go on and on about this, but I think I'll stop now before I get to the point where I'm just reiterating the same thing over and over again (that is, if I haven't reached that point already...) I don't know how frequently I'll be updating, but it feels good to post something here again. :)