Embittered Entrapment

I really enjoyed Katie Wilkie's blog post here about if her badges motivated students or not. Like she points out, a lot of people in this world tend to be apathetic towards learning. Learning is no longer about discovering the best self; it's tied only to grades and school and class. The idea of self-directed learning is something of a lost art. Laziness has been perpetuated, in my humble opinion, by schools and programs that see students as test scores and results. Gone are the days of classicist education (unless you go to Cambridge) where you'd gather together to LEARN rather than merely pass a class or get a degree.

Like Katie said,

For students who are required to do a certain amount of work for a grade, doing other separate work NOT for a grade probably feels either like an unwise use of time or pointless.

Ah, yes. Learning isn't about knowledge, it's about the letter you get for it. The percentage it matters. The grade it will get you. A teacher can offer an amazing opportunity to go and do something, but the only way the professor gets anyone to show is if there's extra credit in the mix. No longer is experience or learning enough. We want grades, grades, grades.

But I'm a perpetrator too. I am infamously lazy. Well, usually. I coast through classes and have an average GPA and average college experience to prove for it. The sad thing is I wasn't always this way. I used to love learning--I used to be a self-teacher. See, once upon a time...I was homeschooled.

I know, I know. Let's here the jokes now; trust me, it's nothing new. But let's get the stereotypes out of the way, because I promise you it's nothing like the overall-wearing, socially awkward, nerd-in-glasses-sitting-at-a-desk-and-listening-to-her-mom-lecture type. I didn't have overbearing, overzealous parents who didn't let me watch TV or read popular fiction. I wasn't trapped on a farm in the middle of nowhere believing that guns were man's best friend. Then again, I wasn't traipsing around outside, never studying, just playing games in the playgrounds by the school to taunt all the other kids.

My mom pulled me out of school right before I started 6th grade. I had just moved from Texas to Utah the year before and, let me tell you, the school system is different. I was years ahead of my peers in Utah. And so I was bored. And restless. And not learning anything. Hence the homeschooling. But it was based on a program known as TJYE: Thomas Jefferson Youth Education (please don't look it up; it kind of went crazy a few years back).

It was a classical education dependent of self-directed learning mostly based in classic works. Thus began four years spent studying Shakespeare, Elliot, Austen, Tennyson, Homer. But it wasn't just English. I was in the company of Aristotle, Newton, Curie, Rousseau. And it wasn't because someone was lording over me with a textbook telling me what to do and read. It was because I, as a little twelve year old girl, found all of it engaging, and I willfully woke up every morning, got out of bed and dressed, and sat down to study whatever it was I wanted that day.

Looking back, it was an amazing experience. A couple years into it, I joined a co-op of like-minded people (that would be homeschoolers--I know, actually getting together to interact) who took classes together like Economics, Philosophy, History, Politics. I was writing blue book essays, creating powerpoints, organizing projects--all things that made college feel familiar. I'm not joking. It was a really great time, and I owe SO MUCH of who I am to it.

But then things changed. My mom had to go to work and I went to high school.

Throw together a sentence with "high school" and "valuable learning" and, let me tell you, you've got a good joke right there.

Too far? Well, let me tell you that, for me, high school didn't work. It really nearly destroyed me. Not because of anti-sociality or bullying or high stress or anything like that. I just lost all motivation. Somehow, someway, that conveyor belt form of education killed the magic of learning for me. I realized very quickly that what I learned didn't matter as much as how I proved the teacher right. Whether that meant bending to a writing style, filling out endless forms of busywork, or being just as lazy and (might I say it?) dumb as they were, I did it. Since there was nothing challenging to interact with, I gave up on challenging myself. I became a coaster. A really talented, resentful little coaster. I'm pretty good at it. And I carried it to college.

So Katie's post--about motivation and extra miles--really struck a nerve. Because, no, I'm not some super genius who graduated college a decade early, nor am I some anti-social freak cringing every time someone walks by. I'm just average. I fit in, I blend in, I do the work. But I have nothing to show for it...except grades. A good ole GPA I can carry with me.

"See!" I can clamor endlessly. "See! I really am smart. This paper says so!"

Ah, the joys of higher education.

Maybe I sound resentful. But I know it's my fault. I let the man win. I let the system beat me. I gave up caring. I mean, maybe not completely--some subjects still elicit a sense of excitement and hard work from me. But, let me tell you, those GE requirements--all those classes? Already forgotten. Completely. Which is a shame. And I can't really say what could change to make it different. But I was just thinking about it, and thought I'd share. Life is hard for the extra-milers, but maybe the extended view makes it worth it. Maybe Miley Cyrus had it right:

"It's not about how fast you get there, it's not about what's waiting on the other side....it's the climb."

Just Gettin' Started

My little sister posted this on my wall today:

Disregarding the casual jargon (and the obvious favoritism towards me), it's referencing Shannon Green's submission that recently made it onto our official new website, menagerie.byu.edu. In class today, us on the Menagerie team were wondering whose friend she was or which of us she was related to. See, here at Menagerie, we're not used to people just randomly finding us and submitting. We've been bullying those acquaintances and buddies into sending stuff our way. Cuz they love us and all. And because they're talented, of course. But, somehow, this single (and rather clever) new post marks a new page! A new dawning! A new day!

Someone found us.

My sister did some investigating for me since she knows Shannon and it makes it less awkward that way. So I decided to email her to get her side of the story--seeing as she's sort of our favorite person right about now. And this is what I got.

Thank you so much for submitting my piece -- I was overjoyed to be accepted! 

That's called enthusiasm, people. And we love it.

What followed after that was a brief little Q&A...

How did you hear about Menagerie? 
I found Menagerie when you came to Margaret's creative writing class and introduced it to us.

What was your impression of our original website?
I first saw the site when it was still on wordpress. I liked the site and the ideas behind it, although it was a little bare! But I completely understood that it was a fairly new launch, and I absolutely loved the idea of having a cycled theme every few months.

Is this your first published piece?
Yes! This is my first published piece! I have posted work online before, but I have never been published in a real magazine.

Are you excited about this new website? 
I am extremely excited about Menagerie Magazine! I think it's a spectacular idea to give aspiring writers a chance to showcase their work!

How do you feel about the idea of only the highest rated pieces being archived on the website? Is it motivation to stay involved?
Your idea to only archive the most popular pieces is an interesting one. It certainly puts more pressure (not bad, just pressure) on the authors to market their work so they can continue to be read on the site. I just hope that my work is read enough to stay!

How are you going to market your piece?
I've already told my friends on Facebook that I have been published in the Menagerie, although I think I might need to bug them about it again if they haven't already read and commented on it! Other than that, I don't have a particularly potent way of marketing my writing.


So there you have it. Our first bona fide submitter with a palpable bit of excitement. With that in mind, it's my pleasure to start our official launch day. Menagerie is up and running and eagerly accepting any and all submissions. This is your chance to be heard and to get involved with some friendly competition to stay on top. Staying true to our name, we're accepting any and all sorts: creative writing, creative non-fiction, poetry, film, music, art, photography, etc. Please see our submissions page and follow the instructions there. If you want to see more on what we're about and how we started, visit this page or our blog, Making Menagerie. Be sure to follow us on twitter (@menagerieonline) and look out for our upcoming Facebook page. And be as excited as Shannon Green, because she is right: this is a spectacular place, and we want it to be a place where...well, a place for art to gather.

Menagerie

I wrote a post for our Menagerie group on our blog: http://makingmenagerie.wordpress.com/

Read our story from beginning to end. And be sure to visit our new site: menagerie.byu.edu

Let us know what you think and, as always, be sure to submit and tell your friends to submit.

My name is Shelby Boyer...and I Have a Problem

Turns out I'm a substance abuser. I am addicted to the internet. Cuz it's a real thing (read here about the brain damage teenagers are getting from over-internet exposure). I know I didn't really do the fast last time, but I was accidentally screwed this weekend when the power went out and I couldn't charge my phone. Suddenly, minutes passed like days until I was beating my head against the wall wondering what on earth I was supposed to do. I wanted my phone--I needed the internet--I was desperate for a fix! But the ironic thing was...I had been cut off in the middle of watching an episode of Revolution.
This is a television show about society after a major inexplicable black-out wipes out all electronic activity. In this world, after that, nothing works. And people are crazy, and everything goes to pot, yadayadayada. Watch it...if you like melodrama + guns and guts.

In any case, there I was, facing my own meltdown over not having the technology to watch a show about not having technology.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

In fact, it gave me reason to pause. That, and my sister pulled out our old Harry Potter Clue game, so I was quickly distracted. And I realized that maybe possibly life without the internet--at least overnight--aint so bad. Sure, it's freezing and dark. But you have the excuse to chow down on ice cream that's starting to melt. And you get to have real face time with people you might sometimes possibly forget are actually in the same room. And while I may or may not have, pathetically, had instagram captions runnning through my head as I itched for the chance to snap a photo, I eventually handled it with grace. The main point: I survived.

Let's just not mention the fact that  as soon as those lights came back on, I was plugged in and getting a major fix. I just think it's good, once in a while, to take a step back and consider--consider the good and bad of this over-connected age and all that jazz.

Over and out.

The Five Stages

I've known pretty much my four years here that I was working towards a career in a dying field. English has always been a running joke when it comes to majors its easy to take swings at. But I topped it off with an editing minor, envisioning years spent working in NYC, busting about in white and black and Louboutin heels I could afford because I just perfected the next best seller. There'd be a toast I couldn't drink to as my eager assistant rushed about to prove himself until that inevitable day I asked him to marry me to avoid deportation.

Just kidding about that last part.

But, seriously, I knew deep down things were changing. There was a change in the air, a shift in the wind. Life was different, dreams would be deferred: print publishing...was dying.

I read an article in the New York Times that reminded me of all this. It awoke a plethora of feelings as it discussed the merger between two major publishing houses, Penguin and Random House (side note: their new name? Penguin Random House. Which just doesn't have quite the same ring to it). It got me thinking about my destiny (you know, the champagne toasting one) and my past, which I neatly categorized into five original stages* (*these aren't original at all.)

Denial: I came to college with a self-assured faith in books' awesomeness. They're not going anywhere, I thought. Nothing is changing. As long as I believe, they'll last. Just like Santa. So I bought up books by the dozen (silently and secretly resenting the cost of them, but that's beside the point). I stuffed books all throughout my room, ignoring the fire hazard and already plotting out an escape route to save them all in case disaster struck. I hummed and sang as I alphabetized and organized, so impressed by my blossoming library. I thought how, one day, my house would have a room like this:

It was my goal. I thought nothing would stand in my way.

Anger: Then I started really looking into the publishing field. This was a complicated stage, layered like a bitter parfait. I was a starry-eyed sophomore who thought I'd get a book published and make millions with with to travel the world and buy houses. But I found out the dark side of the publishing industry: the sheer cost, the tiny cut an author gets. 7%--if you're lucky? You've got to be kidding me. I considered going to the dark side (e-publishing), but no one takes you seriously after that. It's a field for the rejected, or so the large houses told me. I felt my dreams being crushed, flayed, and laid to wither and die. My print world betrayed me. And yet they in turn ignored the e-world? Who could win in such a horrific world? And so it began: the bargaining.  

Bargaining: I began asking for some give and take, even expecting it. there had to be some middle ground, some happy medium where print publishing didn't sabotage and kill itself while e-books won. I mean, why kill print?  A Kindle doesn't smell good. It doesn't laugh or cry or sigh with you with each crinkling turn of the page. It won't ever start falling apart, a sign of your devotion. And you definitely can't prove your intellectualism with a kindle--people need to be able to walk into your house, see a room bursting with books, and simply "ooh" and "ahh" over your elitism. But that seems like a world that will never be. Books are expensive, electronic-everything is cheap--it's a match made in heaven. So maybe if the publishing houses would be more open-minded--maybe if I was more open-minded I could accept a truce, a tie, a white flag of salvation. But selling out makes me sad.

Depression: Last year, I thought my world was over. Woe was me. I lost my faith in humanity, asking why--oh, heavens, why--must people always sell out? For three days and three nights, I curled up upon and with my hundreds of books and wept a thousand tears. Just kidding. But it was a dark time. I felt sure the only thing left for me to do was take on the banner and die defending print. I would not let a modern version of Fahrenheit 451 go down. In fact, my future looked to be one of collecting and treasuring printed books, guarding them against the internet locos who wanted them destroyed, sending me trojan horses in the form of Kindles and Nooks. I was ready to die in a pile of tear-drenched pages. It was my destiny.

And then I thought about it.   

Acceptance: The inevitable conclusion fell into place. That is, life is changed and I have to deal. It was a settling of fate, a shaking of hands with the devil (that would be e-books, here). Though sometimes I still cringe at the idea of e-books and only e-books, I can't help but agree that they're useful, beautiful, cheaper things that benefit a lot more than just the publisher. The writer gets a larger cut, the books reach more people. And...it saves trees. Not that I really care about that (only joking).

But, in all honesty, I am settled. I know I am walking a path that will not be walked so much anymore. Print publishing is dying. When two of the largest companies consolidate to save themselves and the rest clamber to do the same, it's kind of a sign of changing times. But maybe not so much a sign of the end of the world. As one of the interviewee's point out,

“Regulators generally understand that these companies aren’t just competing with each other, they’re competing with a very changed marketplace.”

Ah, yes. A changed marketplace. So I don't have to sacrifice my dreams of being an editor per se. I don't have to give up on fiction and writing and creation. It's just a changed landscape. So maybe I'll still get that champagne-ridden affair.

Just...probably via Skype.

A Little Thank You

My oldest sister has Aspergers. She's incredibly smart and totally amazing and, honestly, perfectly normal--high functioning and all that. But she was bullied all through school, even got stress-induced alopecia through junior high and high school (kids can be real jerks). But she wasn't diagnosed till far later in life--and, even then, only after doing some research on her own and then seeking out a doctor. Everyone just thought she was odd, she was being difficult, she was shy, she was aggressive, she was reactive, etc., etc., etc. So life was hard for her. And no one really knew why she couldn't 'make friends and influence people.'

Luckily for her, this digital age was booming.

People often make fun of video gamers, fan-fiction writers, even bloggers. People who need relationships online obviously can't make friends in real life and that's bad.  Wrong. My sister has been able to connect with so many people and grow in so many ways because of the Internet.

1. A little thing called WoW. Now, I'm never been into the gaming scene, wait my sister became obsessed, excitedly introducing me to her avatar and explaining everything she has to do to do whatever. I dunno, but she loved it. She made friends from it. Friends she has gotten to know outside the video game. When she found out some of her coworkers played too, she suddenly had something to talk about with them. And her interactions online, no matter how foreign to me, helped her figure out sociality outside of the game too.

Is this WOW? I'm not exactly sure. It may be another game, but this is her avatar.

2. Blogging. Yeah, my shy, supposedly socially awkward sister was the first in our family to have a blog. It started as a place to vent feelings and rant about all sorts of stuff, but eventually it blossomed into an opportunity for her to become aware of her personality. There was something freeing about being diagnosed--as she says it, she's different, not defective. And she used her website as a chance to challenge herself to try harder. She'd share goals and then explain how they went: talking to her boss, saying good morning to people she didn't like, looking people in the eye when she was talking to them.

3. Fan fiction. She is a huge writer. It's something she can organize and control, and she loves it. So she started this little HP fan fiction piece where Harry Potter has Aspergers. It has amassed a huge following and people are really behind the idea, commenting on how real it is, how it hoped so and so understand their cousin or neighbor who has Aspergers. It's all been a great boon in her life, not only to have that community but to have people react to her in such positive ways.

The "Cover Art" for her fan fiction

No longer is it bad news to have a "disability"--it can't even be called that. People have communities available to them everywhere and I think that's amazing. It's not taboo to talk about these things anymore. One of my favorite TV shows, Parenthood, features a young boy with Aspergers and his family's struggle to appreciate it. Things are getting exposure. They're being talked about. You don't have to be alone, you don't have to feel constantly misunderstood. My sister has been able to seek out safe havens for her to be herself--all thanks to the internet.

And, yes, some people spend too much time online. She had to give up WoW after coming out of a day long session realizing she'd forgotten to take her dog out and they'd done their business...everywhere. So moderation in all things. But at least allow for the possibility of what a positive and powerful influence technology can be. It connects people first and foremost--to information, to others. This age is a beautiful one and I think it's time parents stop fighting it and start exploring it both with an open mind and a positive outlook with their kids. You never know the good that can come from it--in all sorts of ways.

My sister is the funniest, sunniest person you could hope to meet. She's dry and sarcastic and, yeah, sometimes a little affronting. But she has this bright, loud guffaw that just gets you right in the heart: she knows how to love life. It's such a turn around from the angry, confused teenager who thought she was wrong, she was broken, she was worthless. It was only when she found her footing on the digital landscape that she realized how great she is. Yes, she has an online presence--a huge one compared to mine--but it is that online interactivity that has allowed her to enjoy more of life in person. She's one of my heroes, and I'm so grateful that technology has proven that to even more people.

Social Proof

For our magazine, we had a little info session last night. I dragged some roommates and siblings to it just for some extra bodies. But I was pleased to see that we had two totally random walk-ins who had just heard about it somewhere and were excited enough to come check it out. Awesome. But it turned out to be a great little party with some great advice. I think our group definitely had a clearer understanding of what was needed to make the website more accessible and even approachable to get the kind of response we want.

What a relief.

But, really, there's something solid now, and a better idea of what can happen and why. A lot of problems were addressed and simultaneously solved, so yay for outside advice. We can get so close-minded in our little groups. We know what we want and expect and so we see it already there even if it's not. This "social proof" experiment allowed for us to take a step back and truly examine what our audience--those that know nothing about us to begin with--truly thought.

So, yeah, I'm a big fan of social proof now. I can be a little hoighty-toighty when it comes to my work, maybe a little prideful and self-confident. But this reminded me that there's something to be gained from listening to the crowd.

Even if it is only six people deep.