I Just Wanna Be A Girl!

Y'know when you've had one of those days that just keeps going on and on and on. You're tired all day. Your body feels heavy. You are surrounded by people, but you feel alone. You are constantly looking for something, but it's nowhere to be found. You inhale deeply, looking for a familiar smell, but you come up empty. Yea... that's the day I'm having today. I wasn't even sure what to write about, but I'm writing to stay consistent. (I should get some brownie points for this.)  Well... I did attend classes. No bunking. I finished all my homework for the week last night. (Here, we have homework for the entire semester, assignments and activities, planned out in detail so we can get them done on time.) I've got two essays to write. I might as well get started on that.  If anyone's reading this, send me a text please. I'm craving some human interaction from home. 🥺🥺🥺

My college here has an education department that was conducting this super fun activity. We were going to a primary school for a storytime session. (Does that sound familiar?) So, a bunch of girls and I, along with a professor, went to a nearby primary school, and we were assigned a small group of kids to read to. The previous day, we were asked to pick out a bunch of picture books that we could use to read to those children. I picked out about 8-9 books, as instructed, and put them in a special book bag.  The kids were so tiny and absolutely adorable. I had three kids in my group: Jeremiah, Zavira, and Armani. They huddled around me, trying to sit close and were very excited about the book I was going to read with them. The first book I read was about animal sounds. I asked the kids to make animal sounds and they obliged. As I turned the page and each animal came up, they interacted with the book by making the sound that the animal did. They tried to imitate me as I made the sound...

The theme of my English Composition class is 'play and precision.' For the past few weeks, we have been focusing on the 'precision' part of it, but today, my professor decided to let us 'play.' Quite literally.  He brought toys from home, like puzzles, dinosaurs, play-dough, coloring books, jenga, etc. He had them in a huge bag and handed them out to us. He called it 'play time.' The entire class of college students turned into their 5-6 year old selves and dove in.  After play time, he told us to look at some quotes on the wall and tell him what we thought of them. The quote I picked had something to do with make-believe being the heart of play, and the heart of the work we do.  The way I interpreted this was that make-believe meant imagination. We need imagination to play. For example, when we play with dolls, we give them voices and make them act out a scene. We imagine that something is happening in their lives. Then, we also need imagination in work...

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but there is way more homework here than I am used to. Back at home, the concept of homework in college barely exists. Here, I have to write about 8-10 papers in one semester, and about 6-10 assignments per week. That was a huge shock. I thought I'd have a lot of free time here to catch up on other things I'd been meaning to do.  From the very first week of class, we were given assignments and homework. For the first two weeks, I was drowning in assignments, unsure of how to plan and schedule, making sure I would have time for myself while also making sure to do all my homework.  Eventually, I realized that things would be more manageable if I took a few minutes to write down everything I had to do for the week, noting down which assignments could be done in a short time and which ones would take longer. I learned how to do my short assignments in the breaks between classes and in the morning before classes. Instead of doom sc...

Today, I wrote something out that has been on my mind for a really long time. It was something I was hesitant about putting out on my laptop. I was worried about the reception it would receive. I was scared about what people would say if they read it. I'd been holding back from writing it out for a long time now.  Further, the anger from that thing on my mind has kept me going sometimes. I was worried what would happen once I got it out. I expected to feel calm and relieved, like I had physically taken something out of my body. However, I was mistaken.  I expected to put my laptop down with a sigh of relief, feeling the anger drain out of me. Instead, when I typed out the last word, my eyes filled up with tears. Instead of providing me with catharsis, I ended up reliving those moments and the hurt and anger that had been festering inside poured out through my tears. Every emotion I had been holding back poured out and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  (PS... the w...

I am pretty hyper right now.  I had a super long day, but I am very energetic now. I spent 7 hours in the kitchen today, cooking. My friends and I made chapathi, potatoes, and cauliglower manchurian. It took us about 3 hours to make that and then we made cookies. Then we had coffee.  I have a lot of sugar in my system right now and it feels like I want to bounce off the walls to let some steam off.  As I'm writing this, I'm wondering how people get things done with so much sugar and caffeine in their system. To me, unfortunately, I felt even more tired after drinking coffee. I'd appreciate it if someone could please enlighten me on what to do... 

Today, one of my professors told me that in college, you can't plan things out and go accordingly. (This is for hanging out and going out.) So, my friends and I had our whole evening open until a couple of hours ago. We realized we had to go to Walmart for groceries, to a bible study at 4 pm, and pizza night at 6 pm. We were planning on doing nothing all evening and relaxing, but soon, plans fell into place.  So, I think planning is good. It tells you what needs to be done and when it has to be done. It also helps you when someone asks you what you are doing. You can look at your plan and tell them what you will be doing and when you are available. It helps you prepare and make sure everything is ready for an event.  However, a lack of plans is also rejuvenating. You can do what your heart desires, and you don't have any commitments to get things done (during that time). It lets you relax and pursue your hobbies.  So, what is better, having plans or not?

In my poetry class today, we talked about Robert Frost, looking at a lot of his poems. So, we've all heard 'The Road Not Taken' and 'Fire and Ice.' Right? I'm assuming yes.  So... today, I learned that what we were taught in school was just the basics. I thought Robert Frost's poetry was easy to read, understand, and analyze. Little did I know how much more there was. Today, I read poems like 'Mending Wall,' 'After Apple Picking,' 'Birches,' and others. Now, I thought these would be easy as well. At first glance, I understood them. However, as my professor taught them to us, there were so many nuances that I missed. There were so many personal connections to the author and so many symbols and connections between poems. There were also religious undertones, despite Frost being an agnostic.  I realized that even the easiest poems have a lot to think about. For example, even 'The Road Not Taken' is unclear in the ending, accordin...

As part of my Introduction to Literary Theory class, I had to read Sidney's 'Defence of Poesy.' Now, this post isn't about that work, but about what I think of poetry.  I think poetry is emotion. It is a way that someone can let loose and let themselves feel. It's a way to explain what can't be explained in prose and a way of showing how beautiful things can be, even if they are bad.  Poetry is not something that influences anyone, but it is something that can make readers think. It is not a way of influencing readers, but of provoking thought. Writing poetry is cathartic in the sense that it allows poets to express their thoughts, which might not be acceptable in other contexts.  To me, poetry is a way of telling people that I am hurt or that I want to share something, without having to do it directly. When I'm sad and can't write prose, poetry is easier because it does not need to be grammatical. I can use words the way I want, and it would be consider...

SAGA is what students call the cafeteria here. There was once a catering company named SAGA. No one knows what it actually stood for. However, the food was so bad that the students back then came up with a new meaning for the acronym. "The Soviet Attempt to Gag Americans."  I believe it is rightly named, not just Americans, but gag anyone. I shouldn't be complaining about food, but I can't help it right now. The food is often undercooked. The vegetables are raw, and it's not just the tomatoes and onions, it's mushrooms as well. Then, it's bland. There is no pepper or spice in the food, and the pepper on the tables do not serve.  Next, the food is sometimes mislabelled. A couple days ago, there was a board that said 'Naan bread, Punjabi tofu curry, Chicken tikka masala, and Cucumber raita.' I knew it wouldn't taste like actual Indian food, but I thought it would be close. But... it was tacos, corn, nachos, and baked beans. Nothing close to what ...

Today, I'm starting a part time job at the writing center. So, what is a writing center you might ask.  It's a place where students can come in to get their writing polished. We answer their questions and check to see if their writing meets the demands of their assignment. If not, we teach them how to fix it. Now, we don't rewrite it for them, but rather, we show them how to fix their writing. This way, we teach the writer, not the writing.  I'm super excited about this. I get to assist people to do something I love. I love writing and do it willingly. However, I know that writing, especially in English for international students, is hard. I'm looking forward to helping people love something I love, or at least making it easier for them.  Wish me luck!  (I know my posts are getting smaller as they go on, but there is a lot more homework here than I am used to and I'm trying to adapt to that.)

Cooking is an art and I am becoming an artist.  I never used to cook much back home, but now, it has become a skill necessary to survive in this new country. My friends and I are yet to adjust to the food here. We feel like it's greasy and bland. We can manage to eat it for a few days in a row, but eventually, it becomes hard to digest. Now that's where cooking comes in.  Today, the menu was paneer butter masala and chapathi for lunch and tamarind rice for dinner. I was pretty pleased with the results. When I tasted the food, I felt closer to home. It made me feel warm inside. Even though I haven't cooked before, I managed to make something that resembled what I was used to. I was also really happy that I could give that feeling of home food to my friends. 

When we think of Western culture, we believe they are very free with the use of euphemisms, bad language, and other related ideas. However, that is an idea propagated by the media.  In our attempts to be more 'western,' we are very free with euphemisms. It's hard to say anything without wondering who will point out some weird euphemism. We need to think a thousand times before saying anything, and in that process, we lose the essence of what we wanted to convey.  Similarly, we think we are becoming more 'western' when we use crass language in our regular conversations. In reality, people here don't use many 'bad words.' It is the media that makes us believe we can be more 'western' if we talk like them. However, if we try to be 'western,' we are losing our culture. We are losing our purity and dignity.  This is just a little something I've noticed over the past couple of weeks, and it got me thinking. We try to be western, but we are ...

Biting Pinching Shivering Wet Rain Sleet Snow Hail Wind Chatter Gusts Gale Now, I know this isn't really a poem, but rather just words listed out. But, today has been a really cold and rainy day here. I haven't adapted to the climate yet and I'm cold on a good day. People really love the air conditioning here, and it is so cold. Now, today was worse. I woke up this morning and it was dark and cloudy. I had to go get breakfast and it started pouring when I was in the cafeteria. I had to walk back to my dorm in the rain. As I got wet, I started shivering. I dried up and it happened again as I went to see a professor.  The sky has finally cleared up now, but I am still cold... 

Last night was my first "floor event." It basically means everyone from my dorm floor gets together to hang out and do an activity.  Last night, the activity was mirror decorating with paint and seashells and beads. It was so much fun and my mirrors turned out amazing. But that wasnt the best part. The best part of this was that it felt so calming.  I think there's something about painting and gluing things together that is really relaxing. Once you get into the rhythm, it's so peaceful and it takes your mind off everything else. The only things that esxist are you and your art. The people around you are invested in their own projects that they don't have time or energy to critique your work. Even if they do, it doesn't mean anything because you are doing this for no one but yourself. It's only to make you feel good. It's for you to create something you love.  I think that's really therapeutic. Ps... the mirrors I decorated are on the top of this p...

I have heard so many stereotypical questions over the past few weeks and I just wanted ot highlight some of the funniest ones I got here.  First, I wear a bindhi regularly. One day, as I was standing in line for lunch, some random person who I have never met before blurted out "Doesn't the red dot mean you are married?" I was in shock for a minute. Like... excuse me... I am only 19 years old. No I am not married. I quickly explained that that was a different red powder - kumkumam powder - and not this sticker. A few days before that, someone asked my the significance of the bindhi and I had to think before answering to make sure I didn't give them incorrect information.  Just yesterday, when someone heard I was from India, they asked me if there were Bengal Tigers roaming around my backyard. I had to take a pause here too. Firstly, most people in India don't have backyards because of the population needing more land to build houses on. Secondly, if there was a tig...

This morning, in my Introduction to Literary Studies class, I read a dialogue between Socrates and Phaedrus, written by Plato. There was a story in it about Theuth, the Egyptian God of writing and Thamous, a king.  Theuth started the discussion, stating that writing improves intelligence and memory. Thamous disagrees, stating that writing would lead to the loss of memory because people would rely more on aids, making them appear intelligent but they would not be smart in real life.  Now, my class and I got into a discussion about the downsides of written literature as opposed to oral tradition. The first point was that writing can go anywhere; it can spread to places where it would be inappropriate or irrelevant. Writing is indiscriminate of who it adresses and it is incapable of defending itself. For example, if we were to listen to a speech and we didn't like what someone said, we would talk to that person. But, if it were a book, it could not reply to us.  Now, these a...

I spent a large part of my day working on a little art project that helped me feel connected to home. So, I got the idea when I was painting the little photo frame yesterday. I wanted to assemble a little collage with pictures of the people I love. So, today, I went to the library - I love the library btw - and printed the pictures I needed.  I came back to my room, watched one of my favorite comfort shows, while assembling the collage. Seeing it on my wall now, in front of my desk, where I spend most of my time, makes me feel very warm and safe. It makes me feel like they are looking down on me, checking on me and making sure I am safe.  In a new place where you barely know anyone and everything feels alien, having some connection to your home is really important. This makes me feel like I can look at the people I love and talk to them and when I look into their eyes, its like they can hear me. Thats so beautiful and I love it so much. I love my little art project and it make...

Today was just another day, that started out like any other. However, as the day went by, I practiced some old skills and learned some new ones. First off, I cooked lunch with my friends and I was incharge of doing the dishes, something I never did back home. I was relieved to find out that I could do the dishes without making too much of a mess.  Then, a new friend I made taught me how to monetize my blog. He taught me how to import my content onto "Medium," which would eventually pay me to write. I worked on setting up a profile there. Please click the link below and follow me to show support guys.  https://medium.com/@Ijustwannabeagirl Then, I vacuumed my room and did some painting. I love artsy stuff and I was delighted to have time to do that again. 

A couple days ago, in my poetry class, my professor said "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me," and asked us to comment on it.  As we discussed, we realized that words hurt us more than physical attacks ever can. Words can't be taken back. Physical wounds can heal, and they will eventually dissapear. Memory isn't like that. We tend to hold on to things that made us feel sad or angry more than things that made us feel happy.  I think that statement might have been true a long time ago, but in todays world, where people are more free with their emotions, they tend to say things in anger that end up hurting the listener more than anything else. 

Last night, I cooked on my own for the first time. The homesickness finally kicked in. I wanted to eat something that reminded me of home, something warm and spiced.  I made something my mom usually makes, or atleast tried to recreate it. It didn't work, but I tried. As i was cooking, I inhaled the smell of the food and my eyes welled up with tears. It smelled like home.  I'm not someone who really likes staying home all the time, but I think home isn't really small place, I think it's bigger than that. In class, my professor asked me to describe how I knew I was home. I talked about the heat of Chennai, the humidity, the never ending sound of traffic, the smell of jasmine flowers, the smell of spices and tea, and the hot breeze.  Home isn't just my house. It's everything that welcomes me every morning. Here, the heat is dry. There isn't any moisture in the air. I'm used to the heat, but the lack of moisture makes it hard to breathe and I ended up missin...

Today was my first actual day of classes at LeTourneau University. My day started off pretty early, with my first class at 8am. The classes here are 80 minutes long, which is way longer than I am used to. However, the classes were pretty interesting and I managed to pay attention to the whole session without drifting away.  My first class was Introduction to Literary Studies. There were surprisingly only 5 people in my class. We started off with some introductions and looked into the syllabus. I was shocked to see a detailed plan for every single class mentioned in the syllabus, complete with the assigned reading and homework assignments.  My second class was right after that, at 9.30. It was English Comp I and we were going to be learning how to write better, which was something I was looking forward to - to learn to be a better writer than I already am.  Then, I had a long break in between classes, up until 3pm. However, I wanted to use that time well and make sure I wa...

I was so worried that people would be very judgmental or discriminatory.  I was shortly proven wrong. The people I met as soon as I got here were more understanding and accepting than the people I have ever met before. (Of course there are exceptions.) They are always willing to help, no matter what you need. They actually want to talk and hang out. They make an effort to include me in their days, to include me in their plans.  I really appreciate that. Being in a new country, it would have been really hard without people to talk to. I anticipated a lot of loneliness and searching for people to sit with at lunch. I didn't have to go through any of that, and I'm so so thankful for that. It's just made things calm and the transition has been smoother. 

Before you say anything, I didn't know it was a children's game guys.  Today, I had some free time and a friend and I decided to go borrow a game at the Student's Center. There were a lot of choices, but I saw the name 'Candyland' and I wanted to try it out. I thought there was more to it than just moving your pieces around. I thought it might be a little like 'LIFE' or 'Sorry.'  I was sorry mistaken. My friend and I finished one round in about 2 minutes.  Then, we went back to the room where the games were stacked to try to find something else. We decided to play 'Harry Potter Mystery' which was kind of like the game 'Clue.'  Now... This would have been fun, except that we didn't have a lot of time to play. Just as we got started, we realized that it was time for lunch.  So... We did play boardgames, but didn't have enough time to enjoy them. I hope to go back and play some more soon. Until then... 

So, there are people at LeTourneau from all around the world. And one of the things I noticed is that everyone here is very accepting and they help everyone out.  For example, there are people here who didn't know what a bunk bed was. When that came up, the Peer Advisors (PAs) were very nice and explained what it was. Similarly, when I said ladysfinger, they took the time to go look it up so they could understand what I was trying to convey. They were willing to watch a Tamil movie with me, even though they wouldn't understand it, just to make me feel more at home.  Today, someone asked me what a Bindhi is, and it just put this now into perspective. It made me think for a minute about exactly what it's purpose is. It's like people are learning about everyone else's cultures.  The thing is, there is a large international community, which offers a platform for everyone to feel comfortable. No one person or culture is singled out, because every single person is unique....

Today, we had a nice little game night. There were board games, card games, and.... Drumroll please... A bracelet making station. I beelined for it, and it took me back to my childhood. My little sister and I loved makiybeaded bracelets when we were young and this was a walk down memory lane. I sat down and grabbed the elastic thread. I picked out a bunch of letters to add words to my bracelets. I had so so much fun and I was really fast. Once I ran out of ideas for myself, I asked other people what I should do next.  One of my new friends, Trey, asked me to make him a bracelet and I got that done quickly too. I did a couple more for friends and then I was heading to dinner.  Right outside the cafeteria, two of my other new friends showed up and I flaunted my bracelets. They wanted one with their name on it and I said I'd make them one next time we had the chance.  There was a guy walking by and just called out 'I want one too.' I turned around and said 'Sur...

So... the reigning treasure hunt champ's reign continues. We had a scavenger hunt as part of our orientation here. We went all around the campus, looking for clues that would also serve as a tour of the college.  My two favorite parts of this tour/hunt were the library and the performance theatre.  The theatre was part of the Belcher Center. It was the huge kind of theatre auditorium that you see in shows and movies. There were tiered seating arrangements and I could almost feel the echoes around it.  The library was also amazing. A good library is something that I've always longed for. It was quiet, peaceful, bright, and inviting. I loved it.  Other than that, on the scavenger hunt, we collected little prizes from the different places where we found clues. We got beaded necklaces, a cowboy hat, and a bandana, true to the stereotypical identity of the state of Texas.  I thought the campus was huge, but it was actually smaller than MCC. It only seemed big because...

So, there's this thing I learned about in orientation called Title 9. One point from the explanation that I picked up is that people can be put in jail for something like catcalling or flirting when the opposite party is unwilling.  So... this got me thinking. This problem exists everywhere. We always see women, or even men these days, being catcalled or whistled at. They are called hot or bodyshamed at random. And these are strangers who do this.  I was wondering if this kind of law exists in India, and if so, is it enforced? This was mentioned in the orientation, which means that it is enforced and taken seriously here. I felt like something like this could really help in other cties around the world. It's like something for women to fall back on when they need it. They can rely on the idea that someone is watching out for them and that they can talk about these kind of problems and make sure that they are safe.  Anyway... I'm not sure if this post is meant to bring any...

So... when I was getting ready to come here, my professor (Waves to my teacher) told me that this experience wasn't only going to be academic, but be cultural as well. And... all day, when we had orientation sessions, I was thinking about what he said.  So... here's what I noticed. Firstly, there's something that a lot of our professors at MCC do... they say we are super absorbed in our phones all the time, then reminisce about their good old days before technology. Here, the professor who told us to be alert while walking for safety reasons, said that she too was guilty of being on her phone all the time. That was something that shocked me. Like... a professor admitting that is unheard of at MCC. Next, the clothing style. So... when we think of Americans, we think of short, skimpy, or tight clothing. Yes, this is a stereotype, but it's something that I think a lot of people believe. But... when I showed up for orientation, I saw very baggy clothes. It made ...

I'm here!!! LeTourneau University, here I am.  After hours of long travel and bad meals, I'm finally here. As I drove into campus, my stomach tumbled. It was so so beautiful. (I didn't get the chance to take any pictures yet, but I'll share them soon). The campus was so peaceful... it was serene. It felt exhilarating.  I checked into my room and went to my building. It looked pretty bare to begin with. The bed was bare and my drawers were empty - as expected. However, it felt lonely and cold. My roommate wasn't in either.  My dad's friend and his family were there to drop me off, but once they were gone, it finally settled in that I was all alone there. I decided to unpack to make it feel more like home. Which was a great decision. Once I did, my room felt so much better and inviting. 

Today, I'm beginning a new journey. I'm travelling across the Atlantic on my own, heading to LeTourneau University in Texas for a semester abroad. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit nervous right now. I'm about to get on a plane and end up in a place I've never been before and be with people I've never met before.  On the other hand, I'm super excited. I've never lived away from home before, and I'm really looking forward to this amazing opportunity. I'm sure there are things I will find hard, but isn't learning how to do those things part of the experience?  Initially, I wanted to go here on a whim, but now, it has become more. I want to go to experience life, to make mistakes and learn from them, to become a better person. I want to learn how to be bolder, more confident, and braver. I want to learn how to deal with people who annoy me and learn how to not let them bother me. I want to experience college in a form I'm not used to...

This session was by far the best session I've conducted so far. This week, we took the kids outside for a change. We settled them on a raised dias and all the children crowded around me.  We started the session with the Macarena dance to energize them and to help them settle in for the story. They were so loud that the groups around us were distracted, as they counted the steps for Macarena with us.  The story I told was the story of the Happy Prince. The children renamed the prince "Prince Jijo," after one of my teammates. Some of the kids listened intently while others were not very interested in the tale.  After the story, we gave the children a word search and jumbled words activity. My teammates thought the kids wouldn't be interested in that kind of activity, but they were proven wrong. Some kids took the sheets, went to a quiet spot, and solved them all on their own. I was so shocked when one of them finished their activity sheet all by themselves and brought i...

So, my department has a new Service Learning Program called "Happy Feet." It's a dance therapy group. Today was this program's first session.  I didn't know what to expect, but I wanted to check it out to show my support, since I know how hard it is to start and organize a service learning program.  I was helping out with the registration and getting consent forms signed before the session started. Once it got started, there was no stopping it. Once the participants got comfortable, they soared like caged birds released. The student coordinator, Panimalar, and the staff coordinator, our favourite Phebe Mam were amazing. They were really enthusiastic and welcoming.  This program was meant for people who don't know how to dance, and the coordinators made sure those people felt comfortable stepping out of their comfort zones. We started out with a basic dance and then went on to freestyle and using dance as a form of communication rather than just something we le...

Last week, I said that the kids were well-behaved angels. This week was the complete opposite. There were some other issues that the team and I had to iron out, so we were a little late going to class. In those few minutes, it was as if some spirit possessed the kids in my grade. They were running all around the room, jumping on tables, and were overenergized.  We found it really hard to control the children and keep them engaged. We tried to tell them the story of the shoemaker and the elves. The kids listened from time to time, but it was hard to keep it for a long time.  We did manage to finish the story and teach the kids some vocabulary. We ended the session with a drawing of an elf. 

Today's session was way better than the last week. We were able to conduct a lot of activities and engage the kids. My team told the story "Varun the Wolf." The kids loved the story, especially since they hadn't heard it before.  In between the story, we taught kids vocabulary based on the story, like 'forest,' 'tree,' 'wolf,' etc. There was one kid who wrote down every word I taught him, which felt really gratifying.  Then, we played a lot of games. Even though they weren't related to the story, it helped us keep the kids engaged and kept their attention on us. We concluded the session with a drawing of a wolf, and taught the kids body parts with the "head, shoulders, knees, and toes" song.  I really liked the energy the children had today. Their joy and energy cheered me up and I really appreciated the kids for that. 

For the first time, I dressed up in a traditional outfit today. I've worn saris before, but this was different. It was a kurta with a proper dupatta. Everyone who told me I don't look like a girl or act like a girl was proven wrong today. They were shocked to see me 'prettied up.' They said I looked like a 90s heroine, like a very elegant woman.  That got me thinking... what does a woman actually need to feel feminine? Is it flowers or pretty clothes? Is it princess treatment or being chauffeured around? Does she need to be well cared for, or praised and complimented all day?  I don't think so. In my opinion, all she needs is for someone to not comment on her femininity. To feel feminine, she wants people not to tell her that she doesn't act like a girl or look like a girl. She wants people not to tell her that she looks fat or short, because there are so many kinds of women. She wants people to let her be herself, to feel confident in her womanhood.  Femininity...

Today was the first day of the Service Learning Program for the year 2025-26. We had a much bigger team than last year, and I was very much looking forward to getting back into the classroom.  We arrived en masse and quickly split ourselves up into our groups. This year, we had a special group for Hindi students. This made sure they felt involved and enjoyed the sessions as much as the other kids did.  I felt like every class other than mine made good progress today. I was in the third-grade class, and the kids were overjoyed to see me again. However, their excitement made it hard for them to settle down. We had a very short story to share with them. Once that was over, the kids started jumping all over us again. We managed to gain some semblance of control with a few games. One of our vocabulary words was "Volcano," which we turned into a game. Then, we played Chinese Whisper with the words from our story. Following that, we made the children dance to "Twinkle Twinkle L...

This year's Service Learning Program kicked of with an energetic workshop delivered by Dr. Phebe Angus. We had over energetic participants and a bunch of activities, each designed to help us unleash our creativity, develop team building, and be the best we could become for the children we are going to teach.  The session kicked off with an energizer activity, then a team building activity called 'two truths and a lie.' Then, we learned to let go of our inhibitions by making weird sounds and walking around in different ways (eg - sliding, walking like there is glass on the floor). Next, we practiced our ability to create stories on the go with an A-Z story game. We then did a few dance activities, which would help us keep the children at RSL engaged and entertained. Then, we split into smaller groups to share personal stories about ourselves then make a 1 minute skit within 5-10 minutes. After that, we created lesson plans and shared them with the group. Finally, we conclude...

As you step into the world of Post Colonial Literature, be prepared to unlearn literary theories you already know. Look at these works with a fresh mind.  For years, foreign aliens have entered countries and dehumanized natives. They stigmatized natives and imposed their beliefs on natives. Soon, alien nature becomes natural.  Imagine the room you are sitting in as your country. It is lush and fertile. An alien person comes into the room by force and changes your beliefs. Eventually, when they leave, the room does not feel like the room is was before. That is what post colonization feels like.  One major way natives are submilated is through language. Language is the means through which people connect with each other. It carries culture.  There are three important post colonial critics - Ngugi wa Thiong'o, David Crystal, and Gayatri Spivak. Thiong'o was a critic who wrote "Decolonizing the mind." David Crystal said that language was the dress of thought. He wrote a b...

Oh my god. I'm a senior and I'm not sure how to feel about it.  Around the same time last year, I was thinking about the amazing seniors I had and how I could never fill their footsteps. I lamented about how much I would miss them throughout the year. I wanted to be the kind of senior they were to me.  I don't know if I was that kind of senior to anyone. It's not my place to decide. I do know that I missed my seniors every day of the year. That I can say with certainty.  As I write this post, I'm debating what to do to achieve what I set out to achieve. All I can come up with is to be myself. Show my juniors the joys of this college and show them the things that led me to meet the best people ever. I want to show them that professors are actually friendly and can help you make your dreams come true. All they have to do is take the first step and take that little initiative.  I don't think there is anything else I can do. I just know that I want to leave my mark....

  Get ready to dive into a rollercoaster of emotions, where heartbreak mirrors your own and the pain feels all too familiar. If you've ever loved, lost, or lingered in the ‘what ifs,’ this one’s for you. Grab your tissues... this journey is bound to make you sob. Oh my god! My fourth book is out! Writing this book was cathartic. It was a way for me to purge my emotions in a safe way that didn't hurt the people I love.  These poems were written during my most emotional moments. Some of them tell a story, and others were written to make sure I didn’t explode and do something I’d regret. A lot of my poems are filled with heartbreak and devastation, but there’s one thing I want to tell you all. Those heartbreaks will heal. You’re gonna be okay. Everyone who was out to get you will get their due one day. Remember, extraordinary people have critics. The key is to let it slide off your back and get back up again to fight, with your head held high. 

I lit every match just to keep us warm, Held your storms like they were mine to mourn. I stitched up your silence with my bare hands, You watched me drown, never learned to stand. Gave you my light when the night got too long, Wrote us in verses, sang you in songs. You said I was magic — but only halfway, Loved me like a secret you’d never quite say. ’Cause I gave my all, but it wasn’t enough, Loved you soft in a world that was rough. You held my heart like a paper cup, Drank me dry, then gave me up. You get to explode, I’m told to be calm, Wrap your chaos up in a ribboned psalm. But I am the silence that nobody trusts, My emotions turn into your disgust. You’re angry I’m angry, but I’m just so tired, You lit the fire, then watched me expire. I begged for the truth, but you gave me lies, Now I’m left haunted by your cold disguise. I scream in the dark where you can't hear a sound, I’m not even sure if I’m still on the ground. I’m choking on words I can’t ever s...

Show me your love Shower me with affection Give me some attention Tell me that I'm all you want Not just when it's dark  And when we are alone Say it to everyone Shout it from the rooftops Tell me like it's carved in stone Not written in water Tell me you want me when it's hard When there's a battle raging Even when I break your heart Tell me you need me That you crave me Keep it like an oath  Don't make me feel like a locked door With no keyhole, A question you were tired of answering, A wound you blamed for bleeding. 

You got your care Your affection  Your physical satisfaction  Did you see the pain she's in The sorrow and grief in her eyes  The one she hides from you every day  All for the sake of your happiness  She keeps her tears to herself  Turning it inwards Twisting and turning in her  Poisoning her mind and heart  Making her believe the worst For you, she sacrificed her peace Hiding herself  Putting herself after you  Like a good girl  It's all in vain  When she sleeps with tears in her eyes Night after night 

No matter how you pushed me away Or hid yourself away You asked me to leave But I couldn't  I said I was going But I didn't I waited  Day and night  For you to come back  How could I go? After all we've shared  After the secrets you've entrusted to me So I stayed to fight  Hurting myself in the process All for you  So you could feel safe  And believe that there was someone  Who cared enough to stay  I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this  But what's it for  You still want me gone  You want me to leave you alone  So you can be peaceful  Without me...  If that isn't enough  I still can't not check on you  I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

Every word I say is wrong My emotions turned against me My very breath... A burden Why do I need to be here? You say you want me You say you need me But when I'm here, you don't My tears are a sin  I'm always here when you call  Setting aside everything for you Wanting to know you better In the end, it's useless  Taken for granted My steadfastness My reliability  I'm loyal And trustworthy  Keeper of your heart And secrets But what of my heart My emotions Unvalued and never addressed My needs and dreams - ignored I should have played hard to get Would that have changed things?

What did I do to be born for you The moments we've cherished The way you flash your smile when you see me in the morning  What I wouldn't do to see that again Those cheesy chicken strips we pine for What I wouldn't do to share those with you one more time In your eyes, I see nothing but truth  And unconditional love that knows no bounds Through texts exchanged, we grew closer A journey that can't be reversed  Watching ducks shake their tails You avert your eyes as soon as you see a cat Smiles dancing in your eyes In your arms, I found my home away from home.  Safe and sound, protected from all harm In your arms, my worries skip away I am a princess in your realm, My greatest treasure is you.  Our treks and tree climbs All worth it when we reach the summit And sigh in relief, looking at each other We reached peace, To which we were each other's key The way that we explored the city The moments alone we stole Eyes darting around  I would die a million deaths ...

Pulls out chairs  Holds the door open Takes me out Shows me the city Says I'm his world The best thing that's ever happened  A goddess on Earth  All just sweet nothings? I've put everything I had in this  In him  But I've seen him do this To them  The other girls Checks them out  Up and down Checks if I'm watching  I act like I'm not But I do  I notice his lingering gaze  The secret hidden smiles He does all this for me But what if he's just nice Paying me back for what I've done for him  All the niceties I provide 

Love at first sight never felt right Until him  I thought love came from understanding But he swept me off my feet Those dark brown eyes, hiding secrets in their depths Those muscular shoulders, strong enough to carry the world That lush hair, thick and full Tousled in the wind... That black shirt and those blue jeans  Majestic and regal, commanding respect The sparkle when the light hits his eye The smile that could brighten an eclipse The curve of his brow, deep in thought Those lips, curling into a kind smile That voice like velvet laced with deep thunder When he leans back like the world bends at his will His laughter like spring breaking through the winter clouds Not arrogant nor proud But pure and blissful  Leaves a gentle echo that lingers in my heart  Then...  I knew Shakespeare and Marlowe were right Love at first sight exists It lives on in me And in him  The mystery guy

You look around searching for her She's there, but not Where did your lively girl go? She's gone... Do you wonder when you lost her?  Was it when you made her wait every day, always late? Was it when you dismissed her dreams? Was it when you made her feel used? Was it when you asked her to hide?  Or when you said you were ashamed of her? Was it when you said loving her was a burden? Or when you said her emotions hurt? Was it when you said her emotions hurt you Or when your tears caused your anger Does it really matter when you lost her? 'Cause you already did. She's still there, hanging on your words Clinging to you like your lifeline But now, she pretends nothing hurts She hides her sadness and emotions  From you, when you were supposed to be her solace Wondering where she went wrong, what more to give Tired of hurting, when she says she's hurt, she hides it all  Away from the world You lost her when you didn't tell her how you felt When you didn't tell her...

Once upon a time My life was normal  Nothing out of place Just me and my girls Ouch! I bumped into someone I apologize and run off A black t-shirt Blue jeans Tousled hair  A smile that would light up the whole town I didn't notice this then  Just another guy  Hours to days to weeks Watching him from afar  Pushed together But we're just friends His smile brings me butterflies Heat runs up my spine at his gaze Blush creeping across my cheeks Who is this guy? Exploring and investigating Learning about him  Why though?  Why do I even care?  Ohh...  I like him Just a crush?  Or something more I bump into him again His hands on my shoulders, steadying me His chocolate brown eyes Looking in mine I knew what it was I was in love  What about him?  Am I cursed to watch from afar And so I do  Observing his quirks Every change and mood I want to know more His musical voice approaches me one day  It says he wants to know me too Co...

I looked everywhere. Begging on my knees, For you to come.  Save me from myself. Protect me from the world. Like you said you would. You promised you'd be there  When I called Where were you when I died, Waiting for the proof? You were gone... With someone else?  Or have I been forgotten? 'I need you!' I cried to the heavens, Pleading with them to find you  And return you to me. You weren't there A broken promise Like countless before 'I'm used to it. It's okay,' I sigh Welcoming you back Deep down, I know, You won't appear when I need you.  I still waited for you To prove yourself  Counting the stars to kill time Tracing my memories of you  Hoping you'd reach out to me again You showed me the pain of silence  Even fools stop waiting I am not a fool  I keep waiting Needing  You

  I peek over my shoulder There he is Tall and handsome as hell He is Jupiter And I, Callisto   I’ve had my eye on him As long as I can remember A thousand moments In quiet corners Not one was mine   The curve of his lip The chiselled jaw Those dark eyes… Hiding secrets Depths I long to dive into But never dare   Countless fantasies Spinning in circles in my head Day dreams and night dreams Possibility of something Longing restrained   But… no... He is somebody else’s someone I’ve seen them around Hand in hand Two peas in a pod Never one without the other And so… I keep my distance Doomed to watch Never live A silent spectator A peeping tom Watching happiness that I can’t share Clutching my daydreams Yearning for a glance Each one, a bruise He is a story already written And I am just the reader Loving the someone who was never meant for me

Strut around knowing you won  You have everything you need  Your every desire fulfilled without hesitation It comes at a price You lost the girl who would do anything for you Who gave herself up to you Body and soul  Her peace depended on you  You lost the girl who revolved around you Your own personal moon  She waited on you day and night  For the moment when you'd see what was happening  You lost the girl who suppressed her needs for yours Her smile faded before your eyes  Her spark disappeared Slowly dying from the inside out  You lost the girl who took care of herself on her own So you could have the best version of her She whispered your name in the dark, like a prayer Sobbing, hoping you'd hear her cries You lost the girl whom you brought back to life After a thousand deaths She put her faith in you  She lived for you  You lost the girl who put her emotions aside for you Hiding things that would hurt you  Her emotions bec...

Yesssss. It finally happened. After months of toil, we did it. We finished our trial semester. I have to say, it was one hell of a ride. From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, I gave my blood sweat and tears for this.  So... let's start at the beginning. The team and I arrived at RSL school at 10:30, ready to roll. I watched the sky slowly darken, dreading the rain. You see, we had to take the kids past the ground and upstairs to a little hall for their performance. If it would be hard to take the kids up there safely. Grades 1-3 didn't have school today. They had come in specially for the performance.  I went to my class, second grade, and made sure all the children remembered their dialogues. I was delighted to see that they did! After that, we engaged them for a while so as to not let them sit idle (we had some free time) After the kids had their lunch, we gave them their nametags. Each team's student-instructor made special nametags for each of their kids. Once the...

Bang! Goes the door. Crash! Goes the gate. Ding Dong! Goes a bell. Sounds filled with anger and rage. Trembles run down my body,  Whimpering and yelping in fear.  Cold sweat dripping... Drip. Drip. What do those sounds mean? Flight or fight?  What should I do?  Rooted in place, unable to breathe. Bang! Crash! Ding Dong! A call back to reality Flee!  Stumbling and tripping in haste  Run away with my head down.  Silence!  So quiet you can hear a pin drop.  Waited with bated breath. Silence filled with vengance Anticipation rising. Counting the footsteps. Hearing everything in the distance. Heart pounding in my ears. Silence broken with glares Filled with hate  Deafening silence Fragile and delicate Worried to breathe too loud To make a noise and disturb the heavy silence Fear of what the climax will bring  Fear of harm and danger And so...  Living in fear of noise and of silence Fire and Ice?  Or Noise and Silence? Both dest...