Category Archives: Suki

A Quirky Career

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A small auditorium packed to the brim with women all staring at a large poster of a vulva and entranced by a woman who is explaining all of the unsaid wonders of what lies between the legs of over half the world’s population. This was a few Fridays ago at Scripps: two hours of Ashley Manta, a sex educator from Pleasure Chest (a major sex toy company) spreading her wisdom of all things related to the vagina.

As I watched her explanations with my jaw to the floor, I would sneak a peek at the other audience members who showed a similar level of shock. I was low-key embarrassed at how in shock I was. Nevertheless, this woman was single-handedly enlightening an entire room of people effortlessly with her knowledge of vulvas. As I began to think more in-depth about Ashley’s occupation, I was fascinated at the significant stamp she will leave on the audience who listen to her. She acts as a prophet to identifying women everywhere- covering the all of the forever questioned thoughts regarding periods, orgasms, hygiene, masturbation, STIs, contraception, and every little thing in between.

What was unspoken before, was unleashed thanks to Ashley and her ability to speak openly and honestly. I have looked her up and found her website, which is a portal to all the good she does. She writes blogs, books, articles, and even has a podcast regarding sex education awareness. Along with broadening my knowledge of sex education, Ashley gives a new spin to career planning. In college she majored in Philosophy and minored in Women Studies. Although these subjects definitely have relevance in Sex Education, it is refreshing to know that she did not feel woven down into her college majors. Her irregular and miscellaneous career is meaningful and makes a difference in our cultural epidemic of ignorant vulvas.

Mucho Character

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My mother’s mentality is tough. Growing up, I have been taught that every hardship builds some sort of character. My scraped knees, rainy birthdays, failed spelling bees and crushed crushes were always remedied by my mother’s aggressive assertions that I was fine and these downfalls would help me grow as a human. As a sensitive and emotional child, this was hard to react to. I know that my mom is always right, but I still had a natural desire to pout and be bummed about my petty shortcomings. Sometimes we all have the urge to just throw a tantrum! My mother conditioned me to not cry at every U9 rec soccer game, because: 1. Its recreational children’s soccer and 2. Losing is more useful than winning. I have always had a competitive soul, so I couldn’t comprehend why my mother thought this.  I later learned that my mothers harsh philosophy is valid, and is a useful application.

At the beginning of the semester, I decided that I would I could take on the challenge of Calculus despite my broken relationship with math. I didn’t even place into Calculus but I was so advent on getting my math requirement out of the way, and did not like the idea of taking a lower level class. My advisor and parents both advised me to just take a lower level math class, but I was arrogant. I took Calculus in high school; this should be fine! I was much too confident striding into the class, and became overwhelmed from the get-go. I ended up dropping the class, which upset me to know that I failed. After initial sadness and frustration, my mother’s words came to mind as usual. My downfall has taught to listen to the people around me (who know what they are talking about!) and that these things happen… You just have to move forward.

With this mantra inscribed in the side of my thoughts, I have become stronger from my disappointments in life. I offer that you too can take away lessons from all the wrinkles in life, especially in this often disappointing career world. Buck up, and move forward with strength from your mistakes!

Thankful

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For high school, I went to a boarding school in Western Massachusetts. The campus was big, beautiful, and resembled the many liberal arts colleges found in New England. Because of this, I had this arrogant idea that I already knew what college was going to be like. Living in a dorm, cleaning your own room, constructing your own time management, etc. I thought of myself as a total independent person at the age of fourteen. Sure, the first couple months were tough- I learned that I simply couldn’t live off meals of solely cheese, rice and brownies from the dining hall. I learned that washing sheets is a real thing, as well as vacuuming more often than the post- popcorn spill. I learned that you have to space out your homework times, never assume that you will finish all your homework in the last hour of study hall. After perfecting all the tricks of boarding school, I was confident that I was ready for the transition into college.  I failed to recognize the dozens of people who held my hand during my time in high school. I was supported by an infinite number of factors, and looking back, I can’t find a just way to thank them for the abundance of help I was given.

In those first rough months boarding school, I received a C on my first Physics test. After crying to my patient advisor, she set up a meeting with a learning skills tutor. I thought it was horrifying that I was meeting with a learning skills tutor, I felt dumb and ashamed. After our first meeting which was held in her comfy velvet-filled and cookie-scented living room, she gave me tips that have stuck with me and have become second nature in my study habits. Here are a few:

Space it out: Never leave anything for the last minute- Especially studying for tests that need memorization. It may seem obvious, but studying little by little will help loads.

DON’T bring your computer in bed: Sleep is the crucial ingredient for good academic results, and being on your computer in bed will confuse your brain and body and make it harder for you to fall asleep. Same thing about being on your phone, high stimulation before sleeping is a recipe for disaster.

Find a spot: Create a study space where you just study. If you dare to flip your phone out to check Instagram, you are subconsciously opening a door to distract yourself further. Don’t do it!

Give yourself breaks: I can’t focus for more than thirty minutes at a time, and that’s okay! Stretch, listen to your favorite song, check social media, something that is quick and fun and can rekindle your studying energy.

These things might seem silly or obvious, but have really helped me become a better college student. If it weren’t for the things my teachers taught me in high school, I would be nowhere near prepared for the rigor of Scripps Academia. I know these tools will help me through my college years, and can’t wait to see how they help me past these years and in the realm of the career world.

Unconventional Teachings from Summers Away

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As college students bare large amounts of stress over perfecting their resumes and tweezing their potential career identities, it seems to be an overwhelming norm to acquire a prestigious “summer internship” to help boost their credibility in this all-hungry work world. Although I have not reached that point in my timeline, I feel it creeping up on me by the summer. I cringe at this thought because my summers have consisted of working and living in the place I love: a place called camp.

Ten summers ago, my mother decided to send me away to summer camp for a month. As a timid nine year-old, the idea of living away from home was a death wish. How could I possibly function without my mother? Was anyone going to kiss me goodnight? Who does the laundry? Who’s going to tell me to clean? I was weirdly and obsessively concerned with who was going to take care of me. Upon arriving, I began crying profusely as if I was being tortured cruelly rather than being at an all-girls summer camp. And it wasn’t even one of those weird 80s horror movie type camps. This place was surrounded by postcard-esque scenery that L.L Bean catalogs wouldn’t dare to touch up. Every rock and root seemed to be placed in so perfectly; a true supermodel of nature. And yet, on that bright June day, I was not going to be left off alone in the woods with a bunch of smiling strangers. I kicked, wailed, and screamed. My last vivid image was seeing my mother from the inside of my cabin’s screen door; I was locked in a prison of wood.

As I lay in my bed my first night, thinking how I was sure to perish before my month in prison was over, my counselor came over to my cot and scratched my back, talked, joked, and even sang to me until I fell to sleep. (It felt like hours but I’m sure I was passed out by 9:45) For the next month, I fell fast and hard for a place I can confidently call home now. I wouldn’t have felt this way if it weren’t for the superhero counselors I looked up to with such respect. Looking back, I can’t believe that I am now filling those shoes as a counselor to young girls, and can’t think of a better way of spending my summers.

10632701_4625404128894_5887907320369110781_nA day in the office 

Although internships prove to be good practice, my job at summer camp prepares me for the unexpected problems, the miscellaneous bits and pieces that build my character and make me more equipped for-in lack of a better word- life. I have come up with a brief list that touches on just the surface of things my summers as a counselor has taught me:

  • 12 year-old humor
  • How to clean up throw up (in the woods and out)
  • How to cure homesickness
  • When curing homesickness fails, how to deal with it
  • Creative problem solving
  • When a camper wets the bed, how to covertly change sheets and mattress within minutes
  • The art of writing letters
  • Functioning without electronics in this tech-crazed world
  • How braiding someones hair can fix most problems
  • Leadership by way of professionalism and goofyness

I can think of dozen more reasons, which makes me feel more confident as I go back summer after summer. Although some may think as this as a “safe option” I think of how each summer shapes me differently and strengthen me far beyond any summer internship can stretch me. I will always be grateful for camp, a paradise that also duals as my workplace.

Naked But Not Afraid

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I’m standing in front of a room full of mundane stick figures in stuffy business suits. I’m giving a presentation of sorts, pointing to an ambiguous pie graph, and using a pointer stick much too enthusiastically. I look out into the sea of khaki colored doodles, and they look unsettled. Am I saying something wrong? I look down, and curse under my breath…I am so, so incredibly naked. I continue with my presentation hoping that my audience won’t notice, and I try to convince them through my confidence that this is completely normal, I’m just redefining business casual.

I’ve had this dream twice this summer, and have woken up in relief and confusion. Why am I having this dream? Through my recreational analysis, I have come to terms that my subconscious is a worry wart. That I am already having thoughts about “the professional world” and my place within it. Everyone around me seems to feel comfortable with the professional world, just as the cool kids know exactly where they sit in a high school cafeteria. They know their place, and I feel like a misfit.

From a young age, many of my friends have known what they want to be. Actresses, doctors, therapists, teachers. As these conversations became interlaced with permanence, special programs, and specific majors, I began to sink lower into my chair of uncertainty. I am scared of the professional world. She is aggressive, pretentious, and wears a pantsuit. I hate pantsuits.

Returning to my dream, everyday I feel as if I’m convincing the professional world that its okay to be naked. The more I am doing this, the more I am persuading myself. I have no idea what I want to do, and it can feel vulnerable at points, just like being naked. In this sometimes snooty universe of Academia, we are given the notion that ignorance is a sin. We must know what the future holds, especially our own. I’m learning that its okay to be a misfit and that soon enough I’ll find the right lunch table to sit at. Until then, I shall float between interests as I please, enjoying every step of the career journey.