June 21, 2012

Shovel

Dedication - committing to continuing a course of action beyond the point of commencement. The longer you slog through, the more dedicated you are deemed. It doesn't have to be a slog, of course, but from the point of view of who is calling you dedicated, it perhaps seems like a slog, because to them, the course of action you are committed to would not seem worth undergoing.

Let me introduce Ll. He is in his twenties, and an avid poet. I'd call him a serious poet, because he knows what he is writing towards and what he does with his words. He also has an impressive (to me) history of poems he wrote from adolescence up until recently, alphabetised, dated, revised, pending the next revision because, as he and Prof. Lisa Samuels from the University of Auckland said as well, poetry is never finished, just abandoned. He memorised some poems because of the sheer enjoyment he derived from them.

Now let me introduce Ee. She is also in her twenties, and an aspiring law student. I'd call her serious about what she is learning due to the amount of attention she pays to absorbing it, to understanding the ins and outs and caveats of legislation. She writes an impressive (to me) amount of notes from her hundreds of pages of readings, in order to understand what she is learning. She also seems to have a penchant for particular areas of law into which she has done more research. In addition to the work she does for her university courses, she has put her hand up to participate in other time-demanding law-related endeavours in order to gain more research skills, network, and widen her experiences in the field she aims to pick up a shovel in.

Both Ll and Ee are dedicated to what they are doing. They both currently live at home. Ll finished the law school in his district, but could not get a job so he stays at home, continuing to progress in the craft of poetry, what he is passionate about, while also putting his mind to other endeavours such as possible entrepreneurship and modifications for computer games. I deem him very intelligent because of the depth of knowledge he has about the things he is dedicated to. He lives in Romania. Ll, who lives in New Zealand, I also feel is very intelligent because she has excelled throughout adolescence in the things she set her mind to, sometimes academics, sometimes activities of service, and has gained and continues to nurture a set of professional skills that seem to transfer well and be easily applied in the situations she currently has to face, such as for an exam or in preparation for a seminar.

I'm not very interested in a comparison between Ll and Ee because they are on different sides of the world and consequently may have very different circumstances that push them to succeed, and that includes upbringing, societal expectations, and inner drive. I don't have access to an analysis of those.

I want to instead speak from my point of view, to provide a self-analysis. I am a student at the same university as Ee, though I study languages in more depth. She studies French as well, though law is her greater focus, and French is occluded to an extent. Studying towards a Bachelor of Arts, I have found a far less need for me to put in extensive, sustained effort in note-making or studying, in order to still do well enough (A- and above). I used to feel dedicated to what I was doing, until I met those, such as the two above, who were far more dedicated - because it was demanded that they be.

Let me talk about perception now. The Bachelor of Arts is not perceived to be an intensive degree, perhaps because, being in my third year and noticing this now, the skills and thought processes that I have gained and undergone can be said to focus on questioning norms. As a skill, this is useful in many ways, transferrable to several fields, though I don't feel like those fields are narrowed as much as I perceive they are for Bachelor of Science students, for example, or Engineering students. I feel like the workload I have been tasked with is not great in quantity. In quality, I am hesitant to compare, but in quantity, it seems like I have done much less than, say, Ee, to get the desired Grade Point Average. The general student public, who I generalise to operate at an average Grade Point level, B, would look at a student who gets an A grade and immediately think they study more, focus more, listen more, have bigger brains, care more. But from my point of view, I feel I do far less work than Ee, and other students like her, to get the Grade Point Average that I aim for. The comparison between degrees then feels moot to me, but I will venture to compare a few non-content-related things.

Law students need to succumb to more competition, while Arts students have less of that to contend with. The workload is different, and perhaps the mindset as well. I'm not sure which is worth more. I venture that perhaps Ll, who has tried both fields, is more passionate about the Arts side than the Law side. Like I said before, dedication seems to be demanded of Law students, Arts students not as much. And I think I have fallen into that trap and realised that there is a feeling of laziness about 'doing well in my studies' that Law students cannot afford to have if they want to succeed. Success to them means getting to that A and by nature of competition, beating the ones who fall short. Success to me used to mean the same, but because it is no longer valued, that is, because the higher-ups are not so bent on delivering praise for those who do well in Arts, my motivation has decreased. By praise, I don't just mean a pat on the back, I mean recognition. Arts higher-ups seem to be warm, though not because I 'do well'. And because 'doing well' isn't as appreciated by them, I don't feel it is as valuable to me, either. Not anymore. And now I realise that I held on to the idea of success as 'doing well' in the eyes of others. Since it no longer means that, and the other's opinion is only of relative importance, I go back to me, and ask, what is the success that is important to me?

Dedication breeds success, I still feel that. My desire to 'be' a 'writer' means that to succeed I have to dedicate myself to the craft. But I have also tasted that it is difficult to be recognised in this field. An other may comment on the writing, say it's good because of this or it is falling short here, and one improves with this criticism, but because Science and Law field-shovellers are built up to reach a certain standard by higher-ups, or rather they have to strive to reach that standard set to them, and need to in order to succeed at what they are doing, it seems that what they do is much more recognised in the world. It features more. Society has carved places for them, because of the practical services they offer. Writers have to write their own place in society, and then frantically wave their shovel in the air to be noticed, unless of course their crop circle formations, their artforms, are noticeably impactful. Ll's poetry seems to me like it can be impactful, and it fulfills him more than the law work he underwent; at least, that's my impression.

With the realisation that my success is no longer guaranteed by someone else's opinion of me and my work, I feel a sense of freedom, one perhaps dangerous. I feel like floating with the wind, a balloon that doesn't have to be restricted, but at the same time, isn't tied to a string so can easily float away and never be seen again. What am I working towards? I can define that. What feels scary is that I feel I could define it wrongly, wrong meaning that it would not be recognised at all. Somehow, however I do define my success, it has to include the opinions of others. That is what I have been realistically taught. I cannot rely totally on my own whims because I don't live in isolation, so someone else ultimately still has to approve of what I do in order to make it successful on a societal level. I may be pleased with something on a personal level, but the success in terms of purpose has to include the other. Though I may be writing from me, I can never write just for me if I want validation, whether that be in the form of comment, or in the form of monetary sustenance.

I can choose my public, but I have to have one, in order for my writing to mean something, because it can only mean something if the other picks it up and they connect the dots I dot for them. Dedication then, has to mean shovelling from me to them, digging trenches and learning the best routes to reach them, to teach them. I of course have to have something to teach, and I must commit to getting to the other. Getting to them, that is my success. I realise because of this that delivery is important in helping the receiver receive. So I hope I have been clearer in delivering this message.

Thank you to Ll and Ee.

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