Road Map:
LR A1: Lessons for an (I/E)NTP
When I took the Myers Briggs test in ninth grade, I was an INTP.
However, my “I” score was only one or two-percent. Now, I am an
ENTP with a very slight, one-percent “E” score. Therefore, if I
must confine my personality to a four-part classification, I am most
accurately an (I/E)NTP.
Fortunately, this
hybridized classification makes a lot of sense to me. I do not
feel I am introverted or extroverted. When comparing the Extroverts vs.
Introverts classifications on page 139, I drew circles in the middle of
the two columns indicating that I could not define myself as one or the
other. I did agree that I display the apparently introverted
quality of “prefer[ing] one-on-one, small groups” (139). However,
I don’t feel that this preference is necessarily due to me being
introverted as much as my “little patience with those [I] consider
wrongheaeded or unintelligent” which, according to Marina Margaret
Heiss, is an extroverted quality. I would enjoy group activities
with groups like my current World Lit class because I respect their
ideas, opinions, and work.
Though I may
be a (I/E) learner, I found the “Introversion and Writing” section to
define me quite accurately as a writer. The description of the
introverted writing process cited the use of outlines and the tendency
to “plan before writing and [to] want most of their ideas clarified
before writing” (145). Unfortunately, the same section did not
provide any useful methods of overcoming introverted writing
blocks. Interestingly, I found that the “Extraversion and
Writing” section listed some helpful hints to overcome obstacles.
The section explains a method of overcoming a block by “writing about
having nothing to write about,” something I think would help me in the
future (144). Also, the suggestion that a “block can be overcome
by carrying on an outer dialogue” is a method that I already often use
when blocked (144).
The degree of my NTP classification is much
stronger. The description that “Intutives sometimes become
blocked through trying to make even a simple writing task (such as a
memo) unique” is a perfect example of a problem I often have (148). The
identification of a thinking person as regarding “their beliefs as
being universally held and thus [being] abrasive or dogmatic” is so
similar to my personality that I laughed while reading it.
Finally, the perceiving person’s dependency on deadlines is very much a
weakness of mine. Its helpful to be aware of my learning and
writing characteristics so that I can use them to my benefit if I need
to, and I can avoid the blocks they might cause.
LR A2:
When I was only in the third and fourth grades, I would have
surprisingly philosophical discussions with my mom, my dad, and my
friends’ parents. In the car, my mom and I would discuss at
length the existence and nature of God. Sitting next to the
fireplace with my dad, I would consider the possibility that evolution
and a creator-God were not mutually exclusive. When my friend’s
mom would take the neighborhood kids to the park, I would forego
swinging and sliding to talk with her about the infinite nature of the
Universe and the probability that extraterrestrial life exists.
These memories of learning have remained with me for so long because
they were self-directed and not spoon-fed. Indeed, these
“discovery learning” events allowed me to construct my own knowledge
base which I have valued much more than the thousands of lesson-plans I
have been subjected to.
While in Middle School, I
enjoyed reading books that provided the same freedom of thoughts and
ideas as my conversations with adults. Books about the Holocaust
like Night and The Hiding Place and those concerning the nature of the
intellect like Flowers for Algernon interested me most. None of
those novels were assigned reading, and I never formally analyzed
them. I enjoyed thinking formlessly about the ideas and emotions
captured by their pages. However, I despised writing. It
was too restrictive for my free-flowing thoughts and ideas, which were
so easily vocalized, but nearly impossible for me to write down.
I felt there was a barrier to my writing that I couldn’t surmount. My
problem was that I hadn’t mastered the written language.
Then, as a sophomore in high school, I took my first AC English
course. My teacher Mr. Volding taught the intricacies of comma
rules, verb usage, and dangling modifiers. He taught me style,
and my writing has never been the same. Suddenly, the written
language became an even more precise and effective method of
communicating than speech. I began obsessing over the structure
of essays, and the clarity of every sentence. My quest was to
write the perfect essay.
However, without my
noticing, my reading style had changed with this new approach to
writing. Before, I would use reading as a playground for my
mind. I approached books playfully and formed ideas for no
particular reason other than my own satisfaction. My new writing
style was scientific in nature, and I would approach books objectively
and coldly like I would approach a biology experiment. Mr.
Volding often emphasized the text as our set of data to work
with. I never formed ideas that I felt passionate about. Instead,
I chose defendable topics and used the text to support my topics.
Although my high school reading and writing styles prevented the
self-directed learning I had once enjoyed, I experienced discovery
learning in other ways. My endless experimentation with essay
structures and sentences led me to create a unique style and writing
method. Also, while I was far from the grand idea of Unity we
have discussed in E 603, I became keenly aware of the necessity to link
ideas and facts together to form cohesive and powerful arguments.
Now, in college, I have the opportunity to progress to a new stage
of writing. I feel confident with the mechanics of writing, which
will allow me to spend time on writing as a discovery learning
process. I hope to bring my own experiences and emotions into my
writing, while still focusing on the structure and style of my
essays.
LR Goals:
1. To know myself
For
quite a long time now, I have wanted to engage in some serious “soul
searching.” However, it seems like life is too busy for such a
culturally underappreciated activity. I have spent most of high
school furiously thinking “JUST A FEW MORE WEEKS, YOU CAN GET THROUGH
IT. THEN, YOU WILL HAVE SOME TIME…”—no. “It” is never going to be
over, and I wouldn’t want it to be really. What I’ve recently
discovered is that I just have to make “it” my day-to-day existence, in
all its regular glory and sparks of brilliance, as wonderful as
possible. This means I have to integrate my own self-discovery
with my busy life. Fortunately, this class gives me the
opportunity to do so, but it is my goal to learn how to transform daily
life into an experience filled with learning.
2. To learn time management
I
am admittedly not a skilled time-manager. I tend to procrastinate
more than necessary, which is most likely due to my own fear of
failure. For me to master time management, I must first manage my
own emotions that cause me to delay beginning assignments and depend on
an adrenaline rush to complete them. Ultimately, time management
will help me accomplish my first goal because it will allow me to learn
about myself through my schoolwork.
3. To fail 100 times
The
class discussion about failure was surprising to me. I am afraid
of failure to some degree, but I have learned to embrace it.
Nobody can live a life without failure. The longer one delays
failure or the admittance of failure, the harder it is to cope
with. Furthermore, failure is a learning experience in its own
right. Through my own personal failures, I have learned about
myself and the people around me. My goal is to fail 100 times in
this course and to learn from each personal failure. Such a feat
would demonstrate that I have experimented, left my comfort zone, and
made myself vulnerable. By being open to failure, I am also open
to growth.
4. To discover “my” UT
I have
enjoyed learning about UT through this course, and I hope to continue
doing so. When I look back at my college years, I want to be able
to vividly remember my experiences at UT. The only way to lock
these experiences in my memory is to strongly associate them to the
philosophy of education at UT and the campus itself.
LR Midterm
Stand Outside Yourself and Write what you See (pdf)
LR Final
LEARNING RECORD—DAY ONE
The
only thing colder than the concrete floor I lay upon is the endless
expanse of biology books that fills my peripheral vision. These
unwilling storehouses of knowledge refuse to open their ironclad
covers and provide me with the simple satisfaction that lies on their
pages. The artificial fluorescent light directly above me, the
illegitimate child of the “lux nova” that filled Abot Suger’s first
Gothic cathedral, causes me to blink, and a cold, empty feeling
consumes my body. Oh, Saint Denis! Where are your warm panes of
colored light that carry my soul to Neoplatonic ascent?
I
write this as I lay in despair on the floor between two towering
bookshelves of the life sciences library stacks. My laptop rests
on my thighs and I type without looking at the screen. Before
this moment, I had failed to write a single coherent sentence in the
span of three hours. I sat at the lonely desk next to the window
that had no view and became exasperated with my inability to be
productive. I succumbed to my typical excuse for such failure, and told
myself that I just didn’t care about writing the learning record.
Either a bout of depression or spark of inspiration led
me to the floor between the bookshelves. Here, I am surrounded by
knowledge but feel only an indifferent presence. I see myself as a very
reasonable person who would take delight in the idea of being
surrounded by knowledge in its most concrete form. However, while
I lie here, a place in my soul feels empty, and I cannot understand
why. I keep looking to the light and hoping that it will
transform in\to rays of holy inspiration. But, alas, the
fluorescent bulbs, while energy saving and long-lasting, do not emit
into the electromagnetic field every color from the spectrum of visible
light. The wave frequencies so crucial for my intellectual
stimulation do not permeate this hall of books. Here lies an
empty man.
I now turn my thoughts to the topic of this learning
record: “Stand outside the person standing outside yourself and
write what you see.” Okay, I will entertain this idea, but only
if I don’t have to get up from the floor. However, I realize that
I am already off the floor and standing. It is not me, but my
body who remains lying on the ground. I call the body “Dillon”
because that is what my coaches usually call me, certainly only
referring to my corporeal nature. Dillon, that amalgamation of
sensory organs, exists only to gather data from the world and submit to
the whims of his consciousness. This consciousness, then, must be
Brian, the person standing right outside of Dillon. Brian
gather’s Dillon’s experiences and interprets them in his own unique
way.
But, who is this third person that stands even further
outside of Dillon and transcends the thoughts of Brian? It seems
like some observer exists whose level of awareness is high enough to
incorporate Brian’s thoughts and Dillon’s actions, but still remains
detached and objective. Is this awareness God himself? It
seems that one must at least be gifted with certain God-like qualities
to be the objective observer. However, the more I ruminate about
this concept, the clearer it becomes that I, in fact, am the person
standing outside the person standing outside myself. Just like my
observations about reality, I can make detached observations about
myself. From this outside vantage point, I am able to achieve a
clear and unbiased understanding of my actions, thoughts, and
feelings. When trying to conceptualize the three levels of
awareness that we can experience, the difficulty arises when we fuse
two or all of the levels of awareness. If this happens, we can
become isolated in our own existence and cease to realize that
alternate interpretations of our being exist.
From this outside
vantage point, I try to think about the “problem” that has affected my
ability to complete tasks such as this learning record. Brian
would most likely think that he is simply not interested in
anything. He feels that since the second semester of his senior
year, he has been apathetic towards school, and there is nothing he can
do about it. However, I know this is not true. Last summer,
when Brian had an internship at M. D. Anderson Cancer Center, he was
intensely interested in almost everything in the research lab he spent
his days in. He discussed genetics with researchers and learned
how to perform complicated tasks such as polymerase chain
reactions. These new and exciting experiences awoke Brian
temporarily out of his high school slumber. He thought that he
must have found some sort of inspiration after leaving high
school. However, in college he has once again fallen into the
vicious cycle of procrastination. He rarely attempts to avoid
such academically disastrous evils and instead blames them on a lack of
motivation caused by the failure of the university to adequately
stimulate his intellect. However, Brian’s “apathy” is
simply an excuse for laziness and procrastination.
Earlier
this year, Brian created a list of goals, most of which dealt with the
problems of procrastination and a lack of motivation. The list of
goals was:
• To discover a/my/the higher purpose
• To know myself
• To integrate life and learning
• To manage my life
• To develop lasting and meaningful relationships
The
first three goals focused on an organic kind of personal growth.
They emphasized a process of coming to understand myself. These
goals are very similar to the course goals of E603 and recall “The
Mystery,” a dominant theme of the course.
This emphasis on a journey toward understanding oneself and that which
is greater than oneself seems almost counter productive to me.
These ideas discount my personal awareness (the very awareness that
allows me to write this paper) and force me to undermine my own
knowledge of myself. I think that I know myself very well.
When I fail to accomplish something, I do not feel the failure is
caused by a lack of self-awareness. I am able to objectively
evaluate my actions and understand all aspects of myself that lead to
my actions. I also recognize a higher purpose for my life and
understand the ways this should affect how I live. My ability to
know is undermined by my goals, which endlessly strive for knowledge.
If I can’t provide absolute knowledge, I would like to at least provide
a best guess and acknowledge that human reason is still worth
something. Otherwise, I embark on an endless quest in search of
the Mystery, which, in this case, is merely an excuse to avoid sound
conclusions.
To finally overcome my apathy and propensity
to procrastinate, I think I have to stop trying to find out who I am,
and start forming myself into who I want to be. I feel that if I
have stated “I want to learn from my failures,” then I should already
have the self-awareness to make that goal a reality. This
requires enough emotional maturity to stop making excuses for my
failures. There is no legitimate reason that I do not feel
interested in anything. Of all the things Dr. Bump has said in
class, the one statement I remember most clearly is, “A Plan II student
should never be bored.” And the truth is, I never really am
bored. I just do not align my interests with my classes and
required tasks. To be able to do well in my classes I must be
able to discover what makes the class meaningful to me. I should
be interested in discovering the ideas and concepts that seem to jump
out at me.
I am still lying on the floor, but not in
desperation. Taking a look at the books around me, I notice that
they all relate to my summer internship. Books titled,
Translational Control of Gene Expression and Genomic Imprinting make me
feel like I had donned my lab coat once again. Last summer, I was
genuinely fascinated in these subjects and the excitement I felt
affected other aspects of my life. When I am interested in what I
am doing, my entire life seems to fit together. This is another
reason I must work to find what interests me in my classes.
LEARNING RECORD—DAY TWO
I opt not to write anything except this:
77 7yhhyfrtt5t6y7hhhhhhhhhhhhhcd
LEARNING RECORD—DAY THREE
The
day starts like any other day—in absolute confusion. I wake up
and have no notion of where I am or what time it is, so I shout
something rude to express my disorientation. My roommate stirs,
and I slowly remember my name and realize where I am:
Brian Dillon
Room 110
Andrews Dormitory
University of Texas
Austin
United States of America
North America
The World
The Universe
I
ask myself, “What was after the universe?” and respond, “Nothing”
(Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, 16). Having once again
lost my point of reference in the all-inclusive expanse of matter, I
fall back asleep.
Subconsciously, I know that
exactly nine minutes will pass before my alarm clock once again wakes
me from my peaceful slumber. During these precious minutes, I
employ my mastery of the fourth dimension and capture enough time to
review my new goals.
My first goal is to form
myself into who I want to be. I want to read Benjamin Franklin’s
autobiography and learn how to mold myself into a better person.
The person I want to become is able to shun distractions and prioritize
his work. In order to do this, I must resist creating excuses for
not doing my work. Also, a large part of accomplishing this goal
will be discovering what interests me within the contexts of each
course I am enrolled in.
My second goal
is to gather more usable knowledge. I feel that throughout my
education, I have merely learned facts to pass tests. Many of my
friends are masters of knowledge and are able to provide the necessary
facts in the proper way in order to present the most convincing
arguments and most interesting ideas. The first area I will begin
studying is Catholicism. This topic is extremely interesting to
me and I enjoy discussing it with other people. However, I think
that the burden of proof often lies on me when this topic is
discussed. Next semester, I will be taking chemistry and
genetics, and I want to spend enough time and energy to learn these
subjects extremely well. I want to be a doctor and possibly a
researcher, so I will need to know these subjects well as background
knowledge.
After the
nine minutes finally pass, I wake up to the sound of my alarm
clock. It is 4:55 AM, time for another crew practice. And
here begins the epic battle between body and mind. The idea of
waking up at this time seems absolutely ridiculous to me.
However, I also know that I enjoy crew and desire to attend
practice. My eyes close briefly before I forcefully swing my legs
over the edge of my bed in order to gather enough momentum to rise from
my mattress. As I sit at the edge of my bed, I still feel
the desire to lie back down. Finally, my mind avails and I am
standing next to my bed, triumphant. I realize that sometimes,
certain tasks aren’t easy or enjoyable, but the end product is
rewarding. If I can push myself mentally to get out of bed at
4:55 in the morning, I can certainly push myself to stop
procrastinating and work diligently at my schoolwork.
Finally, I remember another part of E603 that I learned an important
lesson from. When we colored in coloring books and played with
play dough during class, I remember being intensely interested in what
I was doing. In order to push myself to work on assignments, I
need to find that child-like fascination with my tasks.