Every Noodle Counts: Alternative Spring Break Reflection Pt. I

 

PART 1

Two weeks later and I am finally ready to sit down and start writing this and I probably won’t finish for another month or two. I’m quick, but when it comes to true reflection, I strive to avoid haste. As a community service trip, reflection was the nightly status-quo. As I sat there, sharing what the best and worst parts of my day were or how my perspective changed, I couldn’t help but realize that the thoughts I shared merely brushed the surface. I knew by the third night that I wanted to wait a little, let it all simmer together, and once I figured out what the big picture was and could turn my dinky daily dilemmas into concrete, and hopefully actionable ideas.

The Basics

Let me back up for a moment for those of you who are a little lost or are unaware of how I spent my spring break. BU has a program called “Alternative Spring Break” — ASB for short. ASB sends out ~40 trips across the country (and Puerto Rico) to spend the week serving various communities, each trip with a different focus. I signed up to go on the trip to Missoula, Montana. Issue area: Hunger. I was hyped to say the least. I hadn’t been on a real service trip since 2009. On top of getting to work in food banks and pantries across western Montana, hiking and hot springs were also on the itinerary. What more could I ask for? I swear my camera was shaking with excitement just as much as I was. I had been to Montana before. I spent a week in Big Timber in 2006 with my family working on a family friend’s cattle ranch. But I was young then and not into photography. The chance to revisit this beautiful state with my 5D in hand was ideal — how could I pass up that opportunity? On top of that, the chance to feed the hungry is one I won’t ever pass up. My parents constantly tell me that when I was a little kid I would cry whenever we went into the city. I couldn’t stand that there were hungry people on the street. And at the time, barely able to walk by myself, there wasn’t much I could do about it. Since then, the attachment to the cause has stuck with me and my passion has only grown. Working in food banks can be boring compared to working at say — a preschool or a zoo, but someone’s gotta do it.

Truth be told, I was a little apprehensive to spend an entire week in food banks. I’d worked in a range of food banks in multiple states and was well aware that sorting and packaging is a big part of the job. Rather monotonous at times. With a group of strangers, who knew what I could be walking into. All it takes is one negative attitude in a group like that to ruin the experience for everyone, and those are easy to come by. Thankfully, I was blessed with a group of 12 other BU students with homologous passion and positivity. The days were long and the amount of weight we lifted was large, but I only realize that in retrospect. Each day flew by, and I am thankful that the company I kept was so wonderful. Whether we were blasting the same six songs playing on Montana Radio (I swear if I hear “Right There” by Nicole Scherzinger in the next few years, I might just collapse on the spot) or talking about nothing or talking about everything, our acute awareness of the impact we were making was a drive for the entire group.

I went into this trip with some expectations but with really no idea what it would be like. I knew I’d meet people from my school who I may not have met otherwise, I knew I’d make some kind of positive impact, and I knew that I would be stepping outside of my comfort zone and would therefore find some sort of personal growth or understanding. But there were many variables in the mix to make me apprehensive about going on this trip alone. However, a realistic understanding that I would only be away for 8 days was enough to quell my nerves.

My First Realization

 After acclimating a bit to the altitude, hiking to the Weir Hot Springs in Idaho, getting to know each other a little bit better, and a night of (minimal) sleep, we made our way to the main distribution center for the Montana Food Bank Network for our first day of service. Our group was split into two, one group going to pack mail-a-meal boxes and the other going to the packaging room to package the massive boxes of rice krispies/pastas/rice etc. into serving-sized bags. The day seemed to fly by as we challenged ourselves to figure out the most efficient way to package the 10,600 lbs. of mail-a-meal boxes we and did, as well as chattering through packaging even more weight in cereal and penne. In packaging penne, I had the most important epiphany about the work that we were doing.

We were told to fill the bags with a specific weight, but that it was fine if it was off by a little in either direction. As I filled the plastic bag with a few scoops of penne, I was under by .05 ounces. In the interest in filling the first bag JUST RIGHT; I added a few pieces of penne until it was perfect.

It dawned on me in that moment as I poured four or five extra pieces of penne into the bag. My mind immediately traveled to the dinner table where that pasta would end up. On the fork of a small child. It was at least two bites. Then I thought about the process I was going through to fill the bags. I realized it would be a mistake to make this bagging process machine-like. Unlike other forms of service, working in a food bank can be removed from seeing the impact and therefore less rewarding. (Not to say that the incredible people of the Montana Food Bank Network do that… they are amazing. Don’t get it twisted.) Putting the work from the warehouse was vital to my enthusiasm and passion for the rest of the week and most likely for the rest of my life. Upon deeper reflection, I realized that it was only natural for my brain to immediately think that way — it’s what I believe in. Day one of service down, four left. With this thought in the back of my mind, there was no way that the remainder of the week wouldn’t be anything but a great experience.

Throwback Thursday

Found this on an old blog of mine. Here is an excerpt. Original date: July 14, 2013.

---

A Glorious Epiphany (An Except) 

…then I realized multiple hours had passed and I was sucked into the vortex of hip-hop and rap and not writing my research paper due in a week, and it hit me.

If I can make a career out of what I do when I procrastinate, I will be forever happy.

Sirens seemed to go off in my head along with a large Wile-E-Coyote-style sign reading, “DUH!” But then my idealistic thought was pushed aside by a depressing realism. I have no musical talent. At all. I can’t sing. I can’t write songs. I can’t play an instrument. I can’t mix records. I can’t make beats. I can’t read music. Oh yeah, and I’m this 5’4’’, green-eyed, white, Jewish girl who looks more like a future teacher or Corporate American drone. Fuck.

Thankfully, my brain is not that into realism, so that thought bubble burst quickly with a trumping thought. I’m an advertising student. I don’t have to make hip-hop music myself to be in the business, to be a part of the culture and community. There’s room for me somewhere in there.

---

Now It’s April 17, 2014. I work with a great music blog, No Fillers. I photograph artists performing all the time. I can mix records. Always good to take a moment to note how far you’ve come in an aloted period of time.

The Starfish Story

When I was in high school, I was the editor of the yearbook. (I know, what a surprise… the girl who documents everything via photograph and occasional, clever captions was a yearbook editor.) Anyways, at the end of my junior year, I skipped school one day, my co-editor Allison and I drove down to some random-ass hotel in South Jersey and met with Bonnie, our representative from the yearbook company, and an artist to design the cover for next year’s yearbook. Upon arrival, Bonnie presented both of us with bookmarks. I looked up at the curly-haired, eccentric, large-necklace-wearing woman with a little bit of confusion. A bookmark? It’s 2011. We make this book online. But as the weight of the bookmark shifted in my hand, I realized that it was in fact, moderately heavy. Well, heavy compared to what I expected a paper bookmark to weigh. There were two gold pins attached, shaped like starfish. Bonnie explained that it was her favorite story and that we should give one of the pins to someone else, and in turn, share the story. We sat there silently reading the small print on the bookmark. Incredible. This story epitomized the very core of my beliefs.

Fast-forward to today, March 28, 2014. I am 20 years old and very far removed from that day. My goals have since changed dramatically, as they should have. My ambitions are different. I live in a different state. I live a completely different life. It’s importance is exactly the same. And yet, I have this bookmark and pin thumb-tacked to the corkboard behind my desk. It’s not just a decoration that sits there idly either, I read it weekly. I’m positive that it will come up in many posts to come, so I’m going to go ahead and paste it into this post (because in my nature, I typed it up into a Word document long ago so that I could share it more easily). I’m not going to comment on it or break it down or share why it matters so much to me right now. I want you to decide what it means to you first and how it will or won’t change the way that you interact with the world around you. That being said, my thoughts are to come. I promise.

____________________________________

The Starfish Story

Adapted from The Star Thrower by Lored Eiseley

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young girl, and that what she was doing was not dancing at all. The young girl was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out, “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young girl paused, looked up, and replied, “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”

“I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young girl replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, “But, young girl, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”

At this time, the young girl bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, she said, “It made a difference for that one.”

____________________________________

(If you’re wondering what I did with the 2nd starfish pin, I gave it to one of my best friends, Annie. Annie is a phenomenal writer. In fact, she edits most of my posts and many of my papers. For her 17th birthday, I bought her a fancy leather notebook. I decided to fill 34 pages of it (17×2) with poems, stories, memories, letters, and wishes. On one of those pages, I copied the story in and pinned the starfish to the page.)

Community

by Marci Wolfish | @WolfAndAFish

 

Walking around Brookline a couple of days ago, enjoying the beautiful fall weather and some hot cider, I started thinking about how much I love it here and what makes me love Boston (and every other place I feel is a home). The conclusion I arrived at is community. Feeling like I am part of a community is the determining factor for me. When I think back to all of the most important and best aspects of my life, past and present, it all boils down to community. The girls I played soccer with in high school, my high school art class, my soccer camp, my family, my sorority, my high school, my college, and my best friends are just a selection from a laundry list of examples.

When I was in middle and high school, I attended the Julie Foudy Sports Leadership Camp. At the end of my last year there I was awarded the “Inspirational Camper” award. While I can’t remember most of the speech given because I didn’t realize they were even talking about me until the end of the speech, I do remember hearing, “Not only is this camper service-minded, but she is incredibly community-minded.” Community-mindedness was never something I had thought of as a character trait previously, but this sparked an awareness in me that has guided my endeavors at a more conscious level ever since.

 When I say that I think the key to solving most issues in building a strong community, I’m not trying to make a brash umbrella statement that makes me sound foolish. I just think that being a part of any sort of community improves quality of life. 

This semester, I’m taking an introductory sociology course, which, in general, I am uninterested in, but it fills a graduation requirement. So here I was trying to make the most of learning about the fathers of sociology and growing frustrated with “theoretical sociologists” who thought up societal problems and never took any action because it was only theoretical until we arrived at the subject of deviance and crime. The Broken Windows Theory was first introduced in 1982 by James Q. Wilson and George L. Kelling. Essentially, this theory that suggests that when people feel ownership over a community, crime rates will be lower:

“Consider a building with a few broken windows. If the windows are not repaired, the tendency is for vandals to break a few more windows. Eventually, they may even break into the building, and if it’s unoccupied, perhaps become squatters or light fires inside. Or consider a pavement. Some litter accumulates. Soon, more litter accumulates. Eventually, people even start leaving bags of refuse from take-out restaurants there or even break into cars.” 

Philip Zimbardo, a psychologist from Stanford, tested this theory by placing an abandoned car with no license plates in Palo Alto, CA and in the Bronx, NY. He found that the car in Bronx was vandalized and parts were removed almost immediately, while the car in Palo Alto was untouched for over a week. Zimbardo and many criminologists draw from this theory the importance of keeping up with maintenance of towns, cities; but what I took from this theory and experiment is that when people feel that they are outsiders for one reason or another, they are less likely to care about a community, which results in actions that are destructive or “socially deviant.”

My suggestion? We keep moving forward and working on finding ways to connect people and creating communities. It can be anything, the possibilities are endless. I can say with certainty that I am the most productive when I feel connected to a community, because it inspires me to care more, to do whatever I can to make tomorrow better for everyone.

When I was a senior in high school, I was the editor of the yearbook. In previous years, a small portion of the book was in color and the rest was black and white. With the help of my co-editor and two advisors, we were able to produce the first full-color yearbook in the Kent Place history. We put in incredible efforts to make this book the best it could be and lay out groundwork for the future generations to continue making improvements. It would be easy to say that we worked in vain — after all, all of those panic attacks and long hours seem irrelevant two years later. But that would be a naïve assumption. I was able to see portions of the following year’s book when it was still in process and I beamed with pride as I noticed how they were able to continue our legacy and take the book exactly where we wanted to see it go. But why did and does this matter so much to me? I don’t go there any more. That portion of my life is over, I recognize that. But the Kent Place community is still something that is mine, is important to me, and something I will always be a part of. I attribute so much of who I am as a person to my experiences there. The betterment of Kent Place is important to me so that the girls and faculty still there and those who will be in the future can benefit. To me, that is the essence of a community.

“A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.” -Greek Proverb

The desire to make improvements is a key side effect of a community and the stronger the sense of community is, the more likely a person is to actually take action rather than just talk about doing something.

The communities I have found myself in at BU are incredible. Never have I spent so much time plotting and taking action on ways to make a difference. The best example I can use is the BU Hip-Hop Club. I have only been involved with this group since the beginning of September and already these are the people I look forward to seeing the most. My original reason for joining the group was to find more people who love hip-hop, mostly so I wouldn’t end up not going to shows because I didn’t want to go alone. I was hesitant to go to the first cypher because I don’t rap, but I’m glad that didn’t stop me. I had no idea that I was going to find so much more. A sense of community radiates from this group so strongly that it only takes one moment of true observation to see, and another moment to feel. That was the original intention of the group, to create a community of people passionate about hip-hop. On the surface, we have weekly cyphers outside of the GSU on Wednesdays at 5 and we have a Facebook group where people post links to new music and have conversations about hip-hop. There is more beneath that, though. The benefits of being part of a community like this come organically. While hip-hop is what brings us all together, that’s not all we are. Like I said, I have only been involved with this group for about two months, but when I think about the relationships I have already built with so many of the others involved, it seems hard to believe it’s only been that long.  The inspiration and confidence that I get from surrounding myself with people who are so driven and positive (not only with hip-hop but in all other facets of their lives) is something noteworthy. I figured this out very early on. I was doing homework with two guys from the group, and the Game Show Network tweeted at me after I mentioned them in a [what I think was a funny] tweet. As we talked about how certain companies and figures use twitter so well, I said, “Yeah, if I ever become a big shot that will be really important to me to keep up with.” They both looked at me funny and I couldn’t figure out what I had said that was wrong. Then one of them said, “What do you mean ‘if’?” I smiled. “Oops, I mean when I become a big shot!” This story epitomizes the spirit of BU Hip-Hop. The positivity is infectious.

BU Hip-Hop is merely one community I feel connected to at Boston University and in Boston, there are several other that are just as meaningful, but for fear of over-writing, I’m going to ask that you take my word for it.

Again, because I feel a connection to this community and a sense of belongingness, I have that extra motivation to progress and work towards future innovation. I feel a sense of indebtedness, minus the negative connotation. Like I owe to it those who came before me to make room for those who will come after. I feel a duty to pay it forward and help create something special.

The more I understand what a strong community can bring out in individuals, the more important it becomes to me to strive to help build up those communities and help others build more.

I know it’s corny to end this with a quote, but being that Kurt Vonnegut is a famous author and all, I think his words may just be valuable, “What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.”

I challenge you to be daring, to go out and put more energy and appreciation into existing communities and build communities that may not already exist, and in being community-minded, you will also be future-minded. In my mind, the future can only be better.

A Passing Thought on (Performance-based) Greatness

by Marci Wolfish | @WOLFandaFISH

 As someone who goes to concerts frequently, I have discovered many ways of assessing whether it was a “good show” or “good performance” or not. Obviously, there are many factors that go into the analysis.  I have a lot of friends who are not passionate about music in the way that I am but still want to know what I thought about the show. If I were to give them a technical analysis or draw industry comparisons, the conversation would be wasted on the wrong audience. As a result, I have come up with the factor that is most accessible. Feelings. I don’t mean feelings in the sense of how I felt at the show. I mean feelings in the way that my perception of a specific song may have changed. An explanation of why the performance was great, rather than how he or she was great.

 

Last Sunday, September 29th, I was at Tommy Doyle’s in Cambridge to see Cam Meekins and Michael Christmas. Two artists whose music I was already familiar with, and in Cam’s case, I had listened to extensively. Cam Meekins had dropped his new tape, PEACE, only days earlier and I had listened to it start to finish at least 10 times. I already had a feeling associated with each song.  Because it was intimate show, I was able to take in the performance standing, essentially, at Cam’s feet. Having seen him perform at the Stanhope House in New Jersey back in July for a much larger crowd, I wondered whether his energy could be comparable and hoped that it would. I was not disappointed. He played a good mix of his newest songs, a few from Lamp City, his project released this past summer, and a throwback to his 1993 tape. The most standout to me was “Good.” In that moment, it was performanced well; I was already familiar with the song, the talent was there, the energy was there, the evident joy to be on stage was there. But the vibes didn’t end there. The next day as I was walking to class, listening to PEACE, when “Good” came on. Additional warmth filled me, the kind you get when you look at an old picture and relive that pleasant moment for a second. I could feel the energy of the previous night. I practically put my hands in the air as “So keep your hands up if you worked hard, figured out that you really could” played through my headphones. To be able to leave a show, listen to a track, and have a new appreciation is not only part of the magic of going to shows in the first place, but the difference between a good performer and a great one.

 

The same can be said for Michael Christmas that night. He premiered his new single “Michael Cera” – the video dropped two days later. Hearing the song may not have brought a new perspective to me, considering it was new to me to begin with, but hearing it again when the video dropped brought that same “warm” feeling after seeing Michael Christmas absolutely crush it at Tommy Doyle’s.

 

Being able to explain this significance in brings so much more meaning to these conversations that may have previously had the same value as the 2007-esque text conversations of “Hey,” “Hey,” “What’s up?” “Not much, you?” “Not much.” An appeal to ethos is universally understood.

 

The end goal is not always to turn everyone into a fanatic. For instance, I don’t see some of my high school friends or my mother ever becoming Cam Meekins or Michael Christmas fans. But this shouldn’t keep them from understanding that these guys are excelling. I may not care for the theater as much as some of my friends do, but I can still respect the talent of the people they talk about. I’d also like to add that Cam Meekins and Michael Christmas are two guys on this list of many, I have left countless concerts with similar thoughts. This way of thinking is not merely about speaking in a language that any person can understand; it is also an important way to think about an artist in general. 

 

PEACE – Cam Meekins: http://www.livemixtapes.com/mixtapes/24196/cam-meekins-peace.html.

 

Michael Cera – Michael Christmas: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OPUFvf8oUs.

The Mission

 

“It isn’t just being happy for other people, it’s believing in that person and, when they find success, being a part of that success in that you know you played a part in getting them there. Your never-failing dependability is a trait that cannot always be found, but in you it is.”

 

While doing a massive backup of my laptop, I came across quotes from some of my friends that I used when I was applying to college. When I stumbled across this one from my good friend, Bella, I realized that she had perfectly captured my very core in two sentences that I could never seem to put together previously.

 

In the past, I have gone through a ton of career goals. I wanted to be an artist, a famous soccer player, a newspaper editor, a worker at the United Nations, a creator of a non-profit, a photographer, a creative advertiser, an advertiser for the NHL, and many places in between. I was always interested in a myriad of things, and I never saw the connection, that is up until recently. Everything I wanted to do involved me wanted to make some kind of difference and using one way or another to bring out the best in people. That main goal still holds me. All of these career paths were phases, they never lasted more than a month or two. This “music thing” though, it has really taken a hold on me and I don’t see myself meandering into another field anytime soon. Never have I been so determined, so involved, so happy about anything since I decided this is what I wanted to do. I’ve never been busier, but I’ve also never been happier. Everything I do, I get so excited that I just want to call each of my friends and tell them about all about it and how excited I feel.

 

 I know for a fact that the music world is where I want to be. What exactly I want to do, I am not sure, so for the time being this blog will be a way to track my exploration. As of right now, I am just focused on meeting as many likeminded people as I can and trying to get my hands dirty wherever I can in hopes of finding my place. As a pretty self-aware person, I know that the passion that I feel towards hip-hop is not something I have felt before and just knowing that is enough to send me into a smile so big my cheeks hurt a little.

 

As someone who came into the game relatively late, I’m still playing catch-up a bit with my knowledge of the music and the industry. I’ve really only been listening to hip-hop since I was 16 or 17.  That being said, I come out of every day knowing that I have done something to put myself ahead of where I was the day before and that is the best way to continue. It’s very cool to look back at where I was even three months ago and to be able to honestly say I’ve made great strides.

 

As of right now, I’m working on my promotional skills, building my network of likeminded people, writing, and I’m also learning how to DJ.

 

I have no name for this blog right now, I will leave it as Untitled for now, but I’m open to any suggestions, so feel free to comment with ideas! 

The Start of the Beginning: An Epiphany

June 14, 2013

Something incredible dawned on me last winter (2013), a glorious epiphany that upon realization, my ambition and happiness have been boosted more that I ever though possible. Allow me to give you a mental picture.

A cold and rainy Sunday, Boston winter morning, I wake up in my Boston University, Sleeper Hall dorm early in the morning. My roommate, as usual, is asleep and stays that way for at least five or six more hours. I lean over my lofted bed to grab my laptop sitting on top of the dresser under my bed. I plug my headphones in and go to YouTube as I did often when I was procrastinating writing a paper or something else, I typed in “Aer Interviews,” and proceeded to watch a recent 45-minute radio interview that was filmed. FOURTY-FIVE MINUTES. Then I watched another (shorter) interview, and then a few Hoodie Allen interviews, then G-Eazy, Cris Cab, and the likes. Listening to all of these incredible artists and amazing people talk about their music, their pasts, their futures, their fans, their beliefs, all I could think was, “Wow, these guys are doing it right.” Of course, then I realized multiple hours had passed and I was sucked into the vortex of hip-hop and rap and not writing my research paper due in a week, and it hit me.

If I can make a career out of what I do when I procrastinate, I will be forever happy.

Sirens seemed to go off in my head along with a large Wile-E-Coyote-style sign reading, “DUH!” But then my idealistic thought was pushed aside by a depressing realism. I have no musical talent. At all. I can’t sing. I can’t write songs. I can’t play an instrument. I can’t mix records. I can’t make beats. I can’t read music. Oh yeah, and I’m this 5’4’’, green-eyed, white, Jewish girl who looks more like a future teacher or Corporate American drone. Fuck.

Thankfully, my brain is not that into realism, so that thought bubble burst quickly with a trumping thought. I’m an advertising student. I don’t have to make hip-hop music myself to be in the business. There’s room for me on the other side. I can do anything.