Sunday, October 10, 2010

Today, I dug this up from freshman year AP Lang...

Quick preface: I took AP Lang freshman year, and during second semester, the juniors in that class had to do a research project on colleges they might apply to next year. I, being a freshman, wrote this instead...

Apparation and Its Application to the College Application Process, or Apparition Theory and the Muggle Student, by Professor A. P. W. B. Dumbledore

When Muggle secondary school students approach the end of their secondary school education, an event which can be likened to graduating from Hogwarts, they face a dilemma any seventh-year can sympathize with: whether to enter the work force or continue on to higher education. Much like Auror training, Muggle higher education focuses on specific career paths. Institutes of such higher education are called “colleges”. It is from this word that Muggles derive their term for continuing on to career-based training: “going to college”.

To a wizard, the term “going to college” may seem strange, foreign, and even odder than photographs where the subjects don’t move. But despite differences in terminology, at the most basic level, the Muggle experiences of “applying to” and “going to” college are both things the average wizard can easily identify with. As noted before, the experience of “going to college” is almost directly homologous to entering further studies upon one’s graduation from Hogwarts. Similarly, “applying to college”—the process by which Muggles submit their names to programs of higher education for consideration—can be framed in terms of Wizarding experiences. In fact, Muggle students go about the “college application” process in much the same way that Hogwarts students learn to Apparate: by utilizing the basic principles of Destination, Determination, and Deliberation. This striking parallel between the magical and nonmagical youth, and their universal ability to benefit from Apparation theory, is easily demonstrated through a case study of Subject A’s ideas concerning college.

Destination

Before Apparating, a wizard must always consider exactly where he or she wants to end up, lest they inadvertently zap themselves to Timbuktu. This is the basic principle of Destination: the idea that one must know where they’re going before they can begin to go to where they’re going. Though wizards may be tempted to say that Destination, as a magical concept, must surely be applicable to the magical process of Apparation, such skeptics are sorely mistaken, for a Muggle college applicant always unfailingly applies the principle of Destination, going so far as to classify his or her destinations—various colleges—into three categories: “reach”, “fall-back”, and “safe” schools. These three divisions of colleges are defined as follows: applying to “reach” schools is similar to exploring the Ministry’s Auror Program, as such a path is highly rigorous, difficult to gain entry into, and highly selective. Reach schools can be thought of as a Muggle student’s “dream” schools. “Fall-back” schools are the troll-trainer-caliber schools—places where anyone can get in. They have high acceptance rates and low selectivity. They can be thought of as a college applicant’s Cushioning Charm. Finally, a “safe” school is similar to working as a Gringotts curse-breaker—while not everyone can do it, most applicants can and will get accepted into such a pathway. These schools are halfway between a reach and a fall-back: not quite the perfect dream, but also not the dregs.

A smart student will apply to at least one college from each division, thus maximizing their potential for being a) accepted and b) happy with wherever they end up going. Such a detailed application of Destination quite a sight to behold, and Subject A’s thoughts first tentative forays into the vast unknown of college have yet to reach such an advanced level of complexity.

Subject A is currently a freshman—the Muggle equivalent of a fourth year—in secondary school, and her fledgling college Destinations, in “reach, safe, and fall-back” order, are Harvard University, Wellesley College, and Willamette University. Due to her young age, she still lacks much of the information that she will eventually require to finalize her Destination, or Destinations, as they may be, and thus her thought process is nothing but a collection of ideas, still far from the complexity of the final Destination(s).

Determination

In Apparation, once one has determined their Destination, one must focus in finding the “yearning” to arrive at their destination. This is Determination, and like Destination, it is used quite liberally by Muggle college applicants. For Muggle students, Determination manifests itself in secondary school students’ almost universally shared desire to go to college, and in their ceaseless push to earn the necessary credentials to be successful in applying to their reach schools. As with Destination, Muggles bring this basic magical concept to dizzyingly complex levels, accomplishing such a feat by making the process of Determination a complex collaborative effort between student, parents, and teachers lasting for the better two-thirds of a student’s secondary school career. In fact, to use coarser language, the average Muggle student is “hell-bent” on getting into the best possible college.

For example, Subject A, though still three long years away from applying to college, has already begun to Determine how best she should approach the problem of college admissions. Seeing that colleges like to see “well-rounded” students, she has, in an effort to be “well-rounded”, thrown herself into forensics, art, science fair, and volunteering, with an eye on math competitions in the future. Seeing that her top choice requires SAT (the Muggle equivalent of N.E.W.T.s or O.W.L.s) scores of at least 2030 to 2400, her parents have enrolled her in a summer SAT class. And seeing that many students at her top choice school are supposedly unique, Subject A has attempted to separate herself from the maddering crowd by fostering her love of languages.

Deliberation

As any wizard can tell you, no Apparition can be successfully completed without following through on on the third D: Deliberation, the purposefulness of movement that allows a person to arrive at their final destination. To a Muggle college applicant, Determination and Deliberation begin to blur together at certain points, as the “yearning” of Determination is the only motivation students have for moving towards college with the purposefulness that is requisite of “Deliberation”. Yet, despite this hazy distinction, Muggle students practice Deliberation more or less successfully both in its execution as the means to access the endgame of college, and as the impetus for pushing themselves with the Determination to participate in the myriad of activities which have become essential elements of a successful college application.

Returning to our observation of Subject A, we see that her current application of Deliberation lies solely in her constant push to achieve more-or-less straight A’s in her classes. (As a point of reference, an ‘A’ grade is the Muggle equivalent of a ‘O’) In the future, however, Subject A’s Deliberation will undoubtedly push her to assume leadership roles in her community, to win accolades in her “well-rounded” roster of activities, and to truly excel in her nutriment of her linguistic talents, if they exist at all.

In conclusion, it is clear that though the magical aspect of the Wizarding experience may be exclusive to those who have magical talent, magical theory can be utilized in both magical and nonmagical situations, as is the case with Apparition theory and the modern Muggle student.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

On the Logical Fallicies of Self-Torment

There are three more days left in the school year, and five more days until I go to California for college visits. There is still a mountain of schoolwork to be done before the end of the school year. And there is just one more summer separating me from upperclassman status.

Now is, I believe, as good a time as any to reflect on why we, high school students, torture ourselves so much for the sake of good grades and "respectable" extracurricular lists. Why, I ask myself, do students who demonstrate no personal interest in writing, business, or science force themselves to slog through AP English, AP Economics, or AP Biology when they could very well spend their time doing something they truly enjoy?

In all honesty, where is the resident musical prodigy going when he or she takes AP Biology despite their conviction that their calling in life is as a concert performer, not a doctor? Does it really make sense for the average high school student to push themselves to the limit with a full- or mostly-AP schedule while also insisting on a veritable goldmine of extracurricular activities and personal accomplishments? At what point, I ask, is enough enough? High school students are practically killing themselves left, right, and center for the sake of the perfect transcript-but is all that self-torture worth it?

To be frank, I have little right to complain about overachieving, high-performing, academic robots; some in my school might say that I myself am one. However, as the prospect of a full AP schedule looms ahead of me in my junior year while I feel my college chances paradoxically plummeting, I have come to increasingly question the value of the AP schedule, especially when it detracts from one's own opportunities to experience life.

Just a little something for parents to brood upon and students to keep in mind as they continue on the headlong rush towards Ivy League fame, glamour, and glory.

-nn.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Freudian Typographical Error (FTE)

In my AP English Literature class, we have a class blog. The URL for this blog is www.wvaplithardin.blogspot.com; "wv" standing for "Westview", the name of my school; "aplit" standing for "AP Literature", the class the blog is intended for; and "hardin" being the last name of my teacher, Mr. Hardin.

However, whenever I type this URL, I end up typing "www.wvaplithard.blogspot.com".

It used to be that I thought that was just a stupid mistake, like typing "its" instead of "it's" or "wierd" instead of "weird" in Microsoft Word, because you know that Word auto-fixes those little errors, anyway.

But then it occured to me that maybe there's something else at work.

Everyone has heard of Sigmund Freud: he of the psychoanalytic school of thought in psychology, the originator of "ego, id, and superego", and, of course, the Freudian slip, where one unconsciously gives voice to their true thoughts without realizing it. Freud, of course, thought these slips of tongue were deeply insightful glimpses into a person's true, uncensored thoughts, and thus, their importance was heavily emphasized in his theories of the mind.

Then I started wondering--what does typing that "hard" in www.wvaplithard.blogspot.com signify about me?

But of course, it's too obvious: I think AP Lit is ridiculously "hard".

Surprising? No. Depressing? Yes. Significant? I think so.

People make typos every day and think nothing of it. But maybe, just maybe, there really is something to those little mistakes we make. Maybe, just maybe, they really do illuminate something about our deepest, most secret selves.

And that's all I have for you today.

-nn.