Embrace Your Inner Nerd
This past weekend I spent hours having fun. Not only was I having good time, but also over 300 students were in the same building having fun with me. Interestingly, there was no DJ, no food, nor were there any beverages. Saturday night you didn’t hear anybody blaming it on “the goose that had them feeling loose”; you heard them blaming it on Marx and Hegel. I know you’re probably thinking that we are a weird bunch of people. That is a fair assumption. However, we weren’t discussing Communism and the dialectic at a frat party. Our party was in the infamous A-level of the Regenstein Library.
During finals week at the University of Chicago you will find more students drinking red bull to stay awake than drinking beer. You will also find more kids with blood shot eyes because of a long night of studying, not partying. You are probably wondering why I actually think spending my Saturday night in the library is fun. One simple reason: I’m a nerd. There I said it.
No, no, no. I already see you judging me. I’m not the socially awkward, pocket protector-wearing guy who never sees the light of day because he’s drowning in a sea of physics problems. For the most part, I’m just a typical college student that works hard during the week and usually goes out on the weekends. I enjoy dancing and attending social events. However, I also love learning. I’m fully aware that a lot of learning takes place outside of the ivory tower. Yet, I’m also fully aware that many of the things that I have learned in the ivory tower have expanded my horizons.
I attend a school where students endlessly complain about how much work they have, but secretly enjoy the pressure of writing a ten page paper two hours before it’s due. I attend a school where kids take self-deprecating to another level. I attend a school where students get a kick out saying that they have more work than the next person. That’s right, I attend the University of Chicago. I am a proud Maroon! As a student at the University of Chicago we are told to embrace “the life of the mind”. For many people that means asking “big” questions. For others it means building a nuclear reactor in their dormitory. For most of us, it simply means being exposed to the classical liberal arts education a.ka. the core.
My freshman year I tried to deny the fact that my school was different. I told prospective students that we are not that much different from other research institutions, we just study a little bit more. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Most students here are quirkier than the student who was voted “Most Individual” at your high school. This is not something we should shy away from, but rather we should embrace the very peculiar U of C culture. Simply put, it makes us who we are. But what also makes us special is that we are all different and bring our own idiosyncrasies to the table.
Although this post has basically been an ode to the University of Chicago, this was more so about embracing individuality and accepting who you really are. Don’t let anyone tell you that staying up late to read Ralph Waldo Emerson is lame. Don’t let anyone tell you that going to the museum instead of the step show is stupid. Just do what you do, and those who love you will continue to love you for who you are.
I read your Scary Black Men post along with this one. You have thoughtful insights and have a nice writing style.
I feel I have to share a story with you. I’m a Korean male from Toronto, Canada. When I was a high school student many years ago, I visited NYC for the first time. One night, a group of us visited the Juilliard School and I somehow managed to end up on my own. Now, as I was walking along the sidewalk, I noticed a black male in a three-quarter length jacket with puffy hair walking behind me. There really wasn’t anyone around us. I glanced back again about 15 seconds later and I noticed he was walking faster and had closed the gap between us. At this point, I was struck with fear and started walking faster myself, heading towards where our van was parked. I was able to get into the van and the black male either continued to walk along the sidewalk or crossed the street. To this day, I’m not sure if he wanted something from me or if he was harmless. However, my gut tells me that he wanted something from me. This is based on the fact that he was walking faster behind me and he looked ‘hood’.
Now, my only two experiences where I was approached on the street and told to give my money involved two black males. Once was in a crack area in Toronto. The reason I was there was to go to a club in the area which was quite popular at the time. The other incident was in Lisbon, Portugual, where an African man grabbed my shirt and demanded my money. In neither of these incidents were either men successful.
It’s quite unfortunate that the only incidents I’ve had of this nature involved black males. I don’t want to hold prejudices towards any particular group, but, how can I not help but be on guard if I see a ghetto-looking black male around me?
Also, some of my family members own convenience stores (my parents’ generation). My father and my aunt have both been robbed by black men. I would have to add that my aunt was also stabbed and robbed by white men in separate incidents.
Also, when I was in the seventh grade, I was rushed by a group of black kids. I was curled up in a ball while 3 or 4 black kids kicked and punched me. I forget what provoked the incident, but, I certainly did not say anything racist. I learned early on growing up in multicultural Toronto not to throw racial insults. Again, the only time I’ve had multiple people kicking and punching me at the same time involved black people. I have to add that I was rushed in high school by a multicultural group, but I was able to successfully get away without being attacked.
Also, when I hear of friends having been robbed/attempted to have been robbed in the past, it always involves black males. Three separate incidents come to mind. In one incident, a small Korean girl was knocked down onto the sidewalk and had her head kicked in – by a stranger.
My point is the experiences I’ve had with black people have not always been the most positive. (Mind you, I have met nice and friendly black people as well.) These incidents/experiences stick in your head and affect your perception of a certain group of people (e.g. black males) at a subconscious level.
I feel bad that black males have this negative association attached to them – in a perfect world, this would not be the case. If I were a decent black male, I would feel angry/sad/perplexed about this – it sucks.
All I can do is to try my best not to judge, but I’m only human and my experiences shape and affect my thoughts and perceptions of the world around me.
I read your Scary Black Men post along with this one. You have thoughtful insights and have a nice writing style.
I feel I have to share a story with you. I’m a Korean male from Toronto, Canada. When I was a high school student many years ago, I visited NYC for the first time. One night, a group of us visited the Juilliard School and I somehow managed to end up on my own. Now, as I was walking along the sidewalk, I noticed a black male in a three-quarter length jacket with puffy hair walking behind me. There really wasn’t anyone around us. I glanced back again about 15 seconds later and I noticed he was walking faster and had closed the gap between us. At this point, I was struck with fear and started walking faster myself, heading towards where our van was parked. I was able to get into the van and the black male either continued to walk along the sidewalk or crossed the street. To this day, I’m not sure if he wanted something from me or if he was harmless. However, my gut tells me that he wanted something from me. This is based on the fact that he was walking faster behind me and he looked ‘hood’.
Now, my only two experiences where I was approached on the street and told to give my money involved two black males. Once was in a crack area in Toronto. The reason I was there was to go to a club in the area which was quite popular at the time. The other incident was in Lisbon, Portugual, where an African man grabbed my shirt and demanded my money. In neither of these incidents were either men successful.
It’s quite unfortunate that the only incidents I’ve had of this nature involved black males. I don’t want to hold prejudices towards any particular group, but, how can I not help but be on guard if I see a ghetto-looking black male around me?
Also, some of my family members own convenience stores (my parents’ generation). My father and my aunt have both been robbed by black men. I would have to add that my aunt was also stabbed and robbed by white men in separate incidents.
Also, when I was in the seventh grade, I was rushed by a group of black kids. I was curled up in a ball while 3 or 4 black kids kicked and punched me. I forget what provoked the incident, but, I certainly did not say anything racist. I learned early on growing up in multicultural Toronto not to throw racial insults. Again, the only time I’ve had multiple people kicking and punching me at the same time involved black people. I have to add that I was rushed in high school by a multicultural group, but I was able to successfully get away without being attacked.
Also, when I hear of friends having been robbed/attempted to have been robbed in the past, it always involves black males. Three separate incidents come to mind. In one incident, a small Korean girl was knocked down onto the sidewalk and had her head kicked in – by a stranger.
My point is the experiences I’ve had with black people have not always been the most positive. (Mind you, I have met nice and friendly black people as well.) These incidents/experiences stick in your head and affect your perception of a certain group of people (e.g. black males) at a subconscious level.
I feel bad that black males have this negative association attached to them – in a perfect world, this would not be the case. If I were a decent black male, I would feel angry/sad/perplexed about this – it sucks.
All I can do is to try my best not to judge, but I’m only human and my experiences shape and affect my thoughts and perceptions of the world around me.