Tisch Global Jumbos

By Nicolas, Tufts 1+4 Participant

As a kid, I never took much pleasure in reading. I would do it when I had to, but it was never something I did voluntarily. Dyslexia made it hard for me to read without giving me headaches, especially in English since it was my second language. Although I hated reading, I really loved being read to. I loved when my parents would read me stories about adventures and made up places. I must have listened to The Odyssey book on tape at least ten times growing up, and it was without a doubt my favorite story. Once I was older and my reading improved, I had the chance to read my favorite book for the first time. The difference when reading the words myself as opposed to it being read to me was tremendous. I loved experiencing the adventure of the story first hand. This was the first time I’ve ever had that feeling where I didn’t want to put the book down, not even for a second. I thought Odysseus was the most incredible character ever. His leadership and determination was incomparable and he was really someone I looked up to. This story really changed my life. I loved The Odyssey because of the thoughts it provoked me to fathom. Different conflicts and challenges, and questionings of what I would have done if I were in that position. I now know, the deepest pleasure of reading isn’t the words on the page, but what thoughts those words trigger in your head. What do those words make you feel and why.

My best friend, Raf recommended this book to me a couple weeks before I set off on this incredible journey of a year. He said it was one of his favorite books ever and he hoped I would like it as well. So I bought this book and brought it with me to Brazil. The story of Siddhartha is that of a young Brahmin boy who sets out to find the Buddha in hopes of learning the purest form of wisdom and self discipline. The story is filed with love and compassion and fear and hope, and the portrayals or these deep seeded human emotions made me reflect of the foundation of what it is to be human and what it means to be alive. I felt extremely connected to this story in the sense that, I too was a young boy taking off to gain wisdom in a far and strange land. This story provoked so much emotion out of me that it literally brought me to tears on several occasions. Once again, these words on paper changed my life. I feel so lucky to have felt these connections with these books and emotions that ultimately shift my thinking. In a way I feel like these books are very similar to my gap year; they both have helped me grow and mature a lot, even in ways I can’t see yet, and I’m super excited to discover the ways in which these changes will unfold.

By Audrey, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Like an idiot, I came to Ecuador carrying expectations.

In August I looked ahead and saw “cool traveler adventurer Audrey,” the girl that could solve any problem. The girl that could speak fluent Spanish, change the world with her art, and maybe has a cool haircut. Independent, strong, and a citizen of the world: I saw myself as I thought that I should be, every secret aspiration candy-coated with stereotypes.

And now, over halfway through, I am dealing with the consequences of that notion of who I should be. Because I am not that girl. I am still scared and stressed and homesick sometimes, I still occasionally get lost, and I still worry about what I am doing here. I still feel like I have wasted time, and I still don’t really like eating guinea pig.

But while I am not the girl that I thought that I should be, I am also not the girl that I was. Coming from such a small town, my reputation had proceeded me. I had been Audrey the valedictorian, Audrey the vandal, Audrey the loud artist, Audrey the big fish in a small pond, Audrey the ambitious, Audrey the feminist, Audrey the creative. Identity upon rumor, I was known for many things, and other people’s expectations often proceeded me.

And now, sitting here in Ecuador, I am neither who I expected to become, or who people in my past thought that I was. I have settled into just Audrey. Coming to a place where nobody knew (or could pronounce) my name gave me the chance to forget about who other people thought that I was. I am imperfect, independent, creative, loud, ambitious, scared, and silly. I have not gotten rid of my imperfections or reputations, I have been forced to embrace them. I have learned to feel stupid when I could not understand something, and I have learned to feel proud of myself when I can. I have learned how to live in a city, and I have gotten better at making friends. Living here has taught me to enjoy my own company, and to embrace things that do not make sense to me. Overall, I have learned to be gentle on myself, and to let go. Instead of becoming what anyone expected, I have just become me, settled into my body and my personality in a way that I have not been before. I still do not fully understand this new version of myself, but now that’s OK, because nobody here pretends to either. I will still come back to Idyllwild differently than I left it, but instead of returning as “perfect, citizen-of-the-world, social justice warrior, fearless, adventurous Audrey”, I will just be me. And I could not be happier.

by Katherine, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Last Friday, my team and I watched Ava DuVernay’s 2016 documentary, 13th, during our monthly social justice talk. As someone who usually only has the attention span for animated movies and sitcom television, I want to highly recommend this documentary. I’d consider 13th to be “required viewing” for anyone living in America.

The documentary starts off with an ominous reminder of the loophole in the 13th Amendment: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.” In other words, all people are free… except those indicted for crime. Quoted from the documentary, “If you have [“except as a punishment for crime”] embedded in the structure, in this constitutional language, then it’s there to be used as a tool for whichever purposes one wants to use it.”

This loophole was immediately exploited. States began criminalizing black people for minor crimes. A law preaching “freedom” turned into something that allowed for the mass incarceration of black and brown people. A statistic mentioned in the documentary said that 1 in 3 black males born today will go to prison in their lifetime, compared with 1 in 6 Latino males, and 1 in 17 white males. Continue reading “Thoughts on 13th, School, and Prison”

by Elizabeth, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Something I loved about playing violin was erratic and surprising improvement. I would seem to plateau for weeks, even months, working hard but without apparent payoff. My violin teacher would say “have you even touched the violin this week?” in a lesson for which I had practiced two or more hours a day. Then suddenly I would be playing one day and everything would seem easier. The shifts all landed, my tempo was even, my vibrato controlled. Those days made it all worth it. When my teacher would say “I can tell you’ve been practicing.” Because with hard work comes reward. It eventually pays off.

All of a sudden, Spanish stuck. Subjunctive rolled off my tongue without me conjugating or practicing beforehand. I would have real conversations without people slowing down or simplifying their words. I could understand jokes, make jokes of my own, and pick up on the passive aggressive tension in my office. People I talked to for the first time in a while all commented on how much I’d improved. I’m not fluent, I might never actually have a passable accent, and some conversations still leave me wondering if I have functioning ears or even a functioning brain, but I have improved so much. I can understand kids when they talk, understand nearly every word in office meetings, actually talk in those office meetings, understand my host mom on the phone, and talk to my brother’s friends about TV shows without once having to say “mande?” or “no entiendo.” Taxi drivers understand the address I tell them the first time, and sometimes people don’t immediately ask where I’m from in conversation. And it’s really cool. It’s really cool to see marked improvement in something I have struggled with for so long, something I sort of gave up hope on improving.