Holding Jessie's Hand

Last Wednesday, I walked across the TC3 campus holding hands with a girl who is in my Creative Writing class. I have no idea if people were looking at us, but it was definitely a unique feeling to know that I was doing something unusual even for me (and you know that if it's unusual for me, it's definitely unusual for the general population).

Holding hands with Jessie was a spontaneous moment of friendly affection, and my remark at the time was "If we were doing this in Europe, it would be totally normal." The excited/nervous feeling I had came not from who I was holding hands with, but rather from the knowledge that by holding hands, Jessie and I were challenging all sorts of stereotypes and preconceptions. I sure didn't get that feeling when I walked around Brooklyn holding hands with my friend Adam.

Who says that two people of the same sex who identify as heterosexual (or bisexual, in Jessie's case) can't hold hands in public? This feature of American culture has been bothering me lately. Any of the people who saw me walking hand-in-hand with Jessie who have no prior knowledge of either of us likely assumed that we were in a romantic relationship; I've made the same assumption myself about others. I think that it is becoming more acceptable, even in middle-of-nowhere Central New York, for same-sex couples to hold hands in public, but doing so automatically "outs" them to everyone who sees.

I've said many times that people are free to believe whatever they want about me. It doesn't bother me that anyone who saw me holding hands with Jessie might assume that she and I are lesbian; what bothers me is that such an assumption is still uncomfortable or unsafe for so many people.

Stereotypes were challenged all the time at Simon's Rock: a male student could wear a skirt and no one would blink or assume him to be gay unless he was known to be (and if he was, so be it. People were supportive and accepting in any case). If I had walked around the Simon's Rock campus holding hands with Jessie, it wouldn't have been an unusual event, and I was acutely aware of this last Wednesday. This contrast made me miss Simon's Rock on the one hand, and wish that the rest of the world was more tolerant on the other hand. If a little friendly hand-holding on my part makes any kind of difference at all, even if that difference is just for me and my friends, I'll be doing more of it.

A Day in the Life, Part 2

Once again, I'm a few minutes before my morning TC3 classes. I have a persuasive speech due on Monday, and I'm actually looking forward to it. My dad will be so proud: the speech will be an attempt to get all my classmates to open a retirement account. He made me start one when I was 17; at the time, I thought he was insane, but now it's really fun to get my statements and watch the account grow.

It's this kind of planning for the future that I'm trying to take into consideration on a fairly regular basis. I've been learning how to balance my expectations and wishes with what actually happens, but it's becoming clear to me that it is far better to have a plan than to just wing it. For example, I've been in touch with some of the Agricultural Science professors at Cornell, and they've put me on their mailing list. Through the list, I've already found out about several job opportunities. It's amazing to me that people will want me to work for them because of the college I attended. Simon's Rock is an amazing place, but it just doesn't have that kind of recognition.

My chemistry class this semester is about survival. It's CHEM 101 and I'm taking it to make the Cornell admissions office happy. They won't accept the CHEM 107 and 108 that I took in high school because a) it wasn't taught on the TC3 campus and b) it counted for both high school and college credit. This wouldn't be so bad if my professor actually knew what he was talking about and made it interesting; as it is, I'm taking notes out of the book and doing my homework in class.

Again, to be continued...

A Day in the Life

Each day brings me one day closer to Transfer Orientation at Cornell. Almost none of my daily activities center around that anticipated event, except that I wouldn't be at TC3 if I weren't trying to make the admissions office happy. Each day, however, is part of the journey; so, here is what the last day or so has been like.

This semester I am living with a family that I babysit for. Jason and Rebecca are the parents; Aspen, Lucas, and Ava are the children. A bit of trivia for background: Aspen is blind. Henry the Jack Russell cross puppy joined the family a couple weeks ago; he's 10 weeks old now. This, of course, makes life with the Pooles quite interesting.

Jason's grandparents got a puppy from the same litter and named her Princess. (I have an opinion on this, but I'll keep it to myself.) Jason's grandpa has been sick for a couple years and has gotten worse since the arrival of the puppy (correlation, not causation). Grandma can't deal with both. Guess who got Princess.

Basically, I've cleaned up so much puppy waste in the last two days that my skin is perpetually dry from washing my hands so much.

Right now I'm a few minutes away from my morning classes at TC3. Public Speaking class comes first, followed immediately by Chem 101. Later today I'll go to Creative Writing, after spending the intervening two hours editing my short story.

To be continued...

Environmental Studies

My first full-fledged college course ever was Environmental Studies, back in the fall of 2002. (Freak-out moment: how did that get to be five years ago already??!) The course was taught by a visiting professor, and even as a freshman I could tell that he wasn't used to Simon's Rock discussion-style classes. It was barely controlled chaos, and I loved it.

My first semester was very much "sink or swim". I didn't drown, but it was a near thing. What I ultimately took away from the Environmental Studies course wasn't anything profound about the state of the natural world and human interactions with it; the course just whetted my appetite for more.

By the end of the semester, I realized that the focus of the class had largely been on the environment itself, and that my interest had more to do with the environmental ramifications of political policy and social behavior. I signed up for Introduction to Sociology in my second semester and was enthralled by the idea that social systems could be studied, albeit in a manner quite different from "hard" science or anything I had ever encountered before. That fascination would shape the remainder of my time at Simon's Rock.

In the Beginning...

My great-grandfather, Wilburn Herrick Potter, attended Cornell's College of Veterinary Medicine in the early 1900s. My grandparents and parents earned their Bachelor degrees from the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences; my dad also has his JD from the Law School. Various aunts, uncles, and cousins have studied at Cornell; we've had at least one family member in attendance at any given time since 1954. Clearly, Cornell and agriculture are practically ingrained in my DNA.

I never could do things the easy way, though. I always have to take the road less traveled. This blog is the story of my journey from Simon's Rock College to Cornell and my dream major, Agricultural Science.

I graduated from Simon's Rock in 2004 with my Associate of Arts, and it's taken me three years to figure out where I want to be and how I'm going to get there. The way has been rife with every possible pitfall, roadblock, detour, and setback (well, most of them anyway); it's occasionally frustrating but always an adventure.

For much of this time, I thought I had moved on from my childhood love of farming and obsession with Cornell as the "best college in the whole wide world!" I've finally come full circle. What I want (to graduate from Cornell and become a farmer) is virtually the same as what I wanted when I was 12 years old, but I have the maturity and experience to truly "own" my passions now. I'm proud of my legacy in agriculture and at Cornell, but I'm independent enough to realize that legacy is incidental to my dreams in the present.

What happens when DNA and legacy get the best of a girl? What happens when others refuse to believe that she's on the right road or try to derail her plans, or when life throws curve balls? What happens when people are more supportive than she ever dreamed possible? Stay tuned... the adventures are far from over!