We all get those pesky e-mails at the end of the quarter that remind us to fill out five different faculty evaluations for our professors and teaching assistants. And frankly, a lot of us don't. As a result, a great flurry of e-mails collect in our inbox, many rife with exclamation points reading, "Window Closing!" However, with a couple clicks of the delete button, we continue on our way with final papers and exams. For a moment, imagine that your professors anxiously await your feedback. They're not just pleasantly interested; they are twiddling their thumbs in excited anticipation to read what you write about them. Why, you might ask? Perhaps they are motivated by a personal desire to improve their teaching skills. Now, add the additional motivation of a $10,000 bonus...
Back-stabbing; conniving; manipulative; bitch: We all know the stereotypes of strong and successful women in the workplace. However, what if these so-called "ill-founded" images weren't really that off-point? As young girls in Girl Scouts and then as members of sororities in college, women are taught the importance of sisterhood, solidarity and friendship. Yet, many women in the workplace have been known to put aside these vital lessons in hopes of a pay raise or promotion. It is unfortunate that in the workplace, many women are known to sabotage rather than help fellow female co-workers get ahead.
While by no means a comprehensive list, here's an alternate list of things each and every one of you can do to resist the negative impact you have on our ecosystem. Incorporating these suggestions into your everyday life may be difficult, even painful, but it is possible and absolutely necessary for the survival of the planet and the plants, humans and non-humans inhabiting it.
THE SOCIAList: Most of us weren't good enough to get into UCLA or UC Berkeley. Most of us had no shot at schools like Stanford University or Yale University. Some of us have boyfriends or girlfriends that attend those schools. Some of us grew up diehard fans of the University of Southern California or UCLA sports. I don't care. Quit representing them on campus.
Real Life Confessionals Series: My parents got divorced shortly after Sept.11. It happened, like the coup de grace of a one-two punch. So every time I think back to that October afternoon when they sat my brother and me down in the guest bedroom, I involuntarily think of burning and collapsing buildings. I don't think I need to explain the symbolism any further. I was in seventh grade, my middle brother in fifth and my youngest in pre-school.
It's tax season, so it's once again time to try and cook the books enough to get a little extra beer money from that return. Some of the most important tools that students have in their tax arsenal are the various educational deductions and tax credits, capable of wiping out most of the tax liabilities that we impoverished academicians carry around.
Is California the golden paradise it once was? Would the state that at one time had the eighth largest economy in the world be lucky to have just the eighth largest state economy in the United States? Should you even be living here anymore?
Sara Farsakh frantically scribbles notes on the sides of her paper, adding names and places as they come to mind. Behind her, a friend massages her shoulders like she would a boxer about to enter the ring with her toughest yet most anticipated opponent. Farsakh just spent most of the previous day and half the night debating whether she will be able to share this story in public and dreading the path her emotions might take should she choose to do so. Her decision made, all she can do now is stare at the floor and focus intently on keeping her intentions and emotions in check as she waits for the introduction to her first public speech in years. With a few deep breaths and a couple mutters of "bismillahi rahmani rahim" (I begin in the name of Allah, most beneficent, most merciful) under her breath, she begins...
SUBURBAN OUTFITTER: Back home in the Bay Area, I never thought about shopping for spring and summer clothing until March when, if I were lucky, the temperature would slowly climb to the cool mid-60s. Here in Irvine, however, it's mid-January and a ridiculous 85 degrees. Even though I'm wearing denim cutoffs, I feel like I'm about to pass out as I trudge up a slight slope in Aldrich Park. What does this tell me (besides that I'm ludicrously out of shape)? It's time to shop for the new season.
From the rural backcountry of Placerville outside of Sacramento comes a musician whose affecting brand of music comes across as simple and serene as his surroundings. His name is Andrew Heringer.
