Tag: school

September 26, 2013

Censorship Kills: Banned Books Week

I stayed up into the late hours of the night finishing the first Harry Potter book. I read it voraciously, finishing in just a couple of days. I couldn’t wait to talk to my friends about it. Imagine my surprise when one of my close friends told me that he hadn’t read it. I offered him my copy. He reluctantly refused — his mother wouldn’t let him read it because she believed it promoted witchcraft.

Since the birth of the printed press, there have been those who want to restrict access to the dangerous ideas found in books. According to the American Library Association, at least 326 titles were removed or challenged in schools in 2011, with many more instances of censorship going unreported every year.

Among the books most frequently challenged include The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, on the grounds of offensive language and sexual content, in spite of its brilliant treatment of the struggles of Native Americans and minority teenagers. Also on the list of books people wanted pulled from library shelves are To Kill a Mockingbird, and Fahrenheit 451 (ironically, a book about the perils of censorship).

Censorship is all around us. In Tuscon, AZ, all books about Chicano history were removed because they violated an Arizona law that prohibited teaching “racially divisive courses.” In China, a new law was just implemented to punish people who “spread rumors” online.

A library is probably the most dangerous place on Earth. You may run across ideas that conflict with your beliefs. You may be incited to break the law. Without controversial books, we could never challenge ourselves or change our minds. Censorship corrodes the mind and dulls the populace.

This week, read something that someone doesn’t want you to read. It might just change everything.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a freelance writer in Tacoma, WA. You can learn more about Banned Books Week at www.bannedbooksweek.org. For more subversive ideas, follow Jonny on Twitter.

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May 14, 2013

3 Things No One Told Me About the Year After College

A year ago, I graduated from college. I was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to take on the world with my fellow grads. Anything was possible. Since then, my optimism has faded. I’m still glad that I went, but I wish I’d known a few things back then that I learned over the past year.

1) It’s okay to settle for a less-than-perfect job

For some reason, I thought a bachelor’s degree was my golden ticket to my dream job. I was going to land the perfect gig and work there until I retired (or at the very least, I would get a cool job doing something I was trained for).

It didn’t happen. I didn’t get into my field. I didn’t even get a job that requires the degree I spent four years slaving over. At first, I was disheartened. But the more I heard similar stories from my old classmates, I realized that our expectations were wrong.

The economy is bad and getting any kind of work is difficult — even for highly intelligent, highly qualified people. It’s okay to settle for something less than ideal. Getting to the dream job is a long climb and you’ve got to start at the bottom and struggle your way up. Along the way, you might even learn a thing or two they didn’t teach in college.

2) Some Things Never Change

I used to believe that the transition from college to post-college was a magic door that would transform me into a “responsible adult.” I had to trade in my screen-printed t-shirts and hoodies for a suit and tie. Fun was forbidden.

The truth is, there’s no point when you’re “too old” for silliness. Graduating and getting a job may make you feel self-important, but you’re the same person you’ve always been. I’m only as old as I want to be.

I could take myself seriously, or I can have fun while my joints still allow me to dance and my metabolism still allows me to overeat. Just because I’m in the “real world,” it doesn’t mean that I have to give up on fun. So what if you have to wear dress shoes to work? Go to Denny’s at 3 am with your friends and eat some pie.

3) You Don’t Know Everything

You’ve completed a rigorous course of study at a premier institution of higher education. That’s not a license to let your brain turn into mush. College can’t prepare you for everything; it’s important to keep an open mind and be ready to learn new skills (like how to reset a jammed garbage disposal or how to speak sign language or how to design a website). The world is full of things you don’t know.

Even if you don’t return to formal education, you can still learn a lot. Read articles, travel and talk to people from wildly different backgrounds. You can gain so much from new experiences that you’ll never find in a textbook.

Education makes us more human. So learn and grow. You’ll be a better and happier person for it.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle graduated in 2012 with a degree in Journalism and Political Science. In his free time, he likes to come up with Top 3 lists, which are easier to write than Top 10 lists. You can also find him on Twitter: @jonnyeberle.

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March 10, 2013

The End of an Era

All things must end. Wind and water erode mountains, rust eats away steel, entropy unravels the universe and my university deletes my email account. I guess it was bound to happen eventually, but I’m not ready to give it up. I still use it for correspondence (and coupons), to use the school’s wireless internet and to impress people at parties (a .edu address makes you look smarter). But in a few weeks, the system will delete me from its databanks and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Nothing I can do to slow the inexorable flow of time from the past into the future. The only thing I can do is rescue my files and important emails from their digital apocalypse.

As I forward old conversations, I realize that this is how eras end — they do not come grinding to a halt all at once, they are dismantled piece by piece. This is how my college years end, as a gradual drifting away. Graduation; friends moving away; email account deletion. Bit by bit, it all slips out of my grasp.

You and I both know this is about more than just losing my email. It’s about moving on from a phase in my life that is finished. And I think letting go of that is ultimately healthy. Time to let go. Time to log out.

— 30 —

I’m a writer and photographer in Flagstaff, AZ, the town where I went to college. When I’m not getting all nostalgic about my inbox, you can find me on the Twitter machine: @jonnyeberle. Please feel free to follow me there and leave your thoughts in the comments.

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February 5, 2013

A Tale of Two Parking Tickets

I received my first parking citation at the university almost five years ago. It was my first day of work at the Office of The Bursar. I was eighteen, a recent high school graduate in the awkward summer months before starting college. I had no idea what lay before me. I was starting my first real job.

The Bursar’s Office was on the ground floor of the old university library. It was a stately building of Coconino sandstone. It was sweltering in the summer. The fans ran nonstop from when we opened at 7 to when we closed at 4:30. Flies buzzed under the copper ceiling panels.

Fast forward nearly five years later. The night of the 2013 Super Bowl. I’m a college graduate, twenty-three years old, in that awkward year after finishing school and having little to no idea of how to spend my future. I had been watching the game (and making fun of the blackout) with my girlfriend and a few of our friends (all but one of whom I didn’t know five years ago).

I can’t help but be amazed by how far I’ve come in the span of two parking violations. That eighteen-year-old kid could never imagine my life now. My education, my friendships, my interests and my career path have evolved and changed radically in the last half-decade. That’s the nature of growing older — our plans are always in flux.

But some things haven’t changed. I still don’t know where I’m allowed to park.

— 30 —

When I’m not occupied ignoring posted warnings about required permits, you can find me on the Twitter machine: @jonnyeberle.

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May 13, 2012

The Sum of Our Genes

Yesterday morning, I was an undergrad; today I am an alumnus of Northern Arizona University. The word itself — alumnus — comes from Latin, and respectable sources inform me that it derives from the verb alere, which literally means “to nourish.” I have been nourished, fed, and not just in my classes. I have been nourished my entire life.

Among my friends, I have a reputation for confidence that some say borders on arrogance. Sure, I’m proud of my accomplishments, but I’m under no illusions about how I got here. I have been fed intellectually, emotionally and spiritually by many people: Professors, friends and family all got me here.

No one is a one-man or one-woman show. We all require nourishment from others to succeed. From the moment we leave the womb, we’re dependent and though we learn to do many things on our own (I make a mean guacamole, for instance), we never grow out of our need for companionship and support.

Perhaps it’s no coincidence that so many university commencements fall on the same weekend as Mother’s Day. I wouldn’t be alive without my mother’s generous donation of genes, food and love — let alone graduating from college. In fact, it occurs to me that I’m indebted to all the generations of my family who came before me — to the humble printers who founded a newspaper in a small town at the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers in western Pennsylvania around the time of the Civil War and to the peasant farmers who braved the passage from Europe to build a better life for their children in a strange new land around the turn of the century. I would not exist without their sacrifices (and I wouldn’t be so dashingly handsome without their good looks).

I am the product of centuries of hardship and perseverance. I am the result of generations of fateful decisions and fantastically good luck. I am the sum of my genes and I owe my ancestors a debt of gratitude. I’ve been nourished by all of them. Before I try to take credit for all of my success, I think it’s important to acknowledge that.

— 30 —

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there, congrats to the grads and if you’re so inclined, I’d love to hear from you in the comments or on Twitter, where I go by the pseudo pseudonym @jonnyeberle.
May 1, 2012

One Small Step for Grad

There are some strange goings on in the world this week. When I woke this morning, I looked out my window, where I discovered that the willow in my backyard had grown leaves overnight. Birds were sitting on telephone lines, singing. For the first time this year, I cracked open the window above my bed to let a crisp breeze flow through the room.

It’s spring — and while I’m not ruling out the possibility of a freak blizzard — it’s increasingly clear to me that a lot of things are ending. In 11 days, I walk across a little stage, get a handshake and step off into the next chapter of the novel of my life. It’s too bad I don’t have the rest the plot outlined.

When I was young, I believed in the popular myth that one day, by magic, I would be transformed into an adult in a blinding flash of light and credit card statements. Instead, I’ve found that growing up is a gradual, imperceptible process. We mature little by little without even noticing it, like red wine in a cellar. Then, one day, we realize that we became an adult years ago and that it’s an unending process of refinement.

And then, you stand in your driveway, dumbfounded and wondering how you got here. Still, it’s not like I’ve been sleepwalking through life. I’ve made more than my share of mistakes. I’ve loved and I’ve lost and I can proudly say that I was conscious for all of it.

In 11 days, a significant part of my life ends, but I’m not ready for the nursing home just yet. I’ve got more mistakes to make and I can’t wait to get started. Here goes nothing.

That’s one small step for grad, one giant leap for grad-kind.

— 30 —

Wow, that was sappy. If you thought that was bad, you ain’t seen nothing yet. My Twitter feed will make you cry: @jonnyeberle.
February 2, 2012

No Time to Write

Some days, you can’t form sentences, so you have to write your blog post in the form of a poem. Ladies and gentlemen, today is one of those days.

Time
slips away
no matter how tightly
you hold it,
but lingers
long after the party
is over and the other guests
have all gone home
and it doesn’t get the hint
that you want it to leave.

Time
is never on your side.
Don’t bet on it
to spare itself
on your account.

Time
is stingy—
23 hours
and 56 minutes.
Yours to waste
on work and school,
stuffing your face
and zoning out.

Time
is scarce
when you need it.
Cant buy it.
Can’t save it.
Can’t manufacture more
or capture seconds
in a jar
like ticking fireflies.

Time
wants me to pay
my bills.
It doesn’t want me
to write.

Time hates writers.

I will bottle time
and tame time.
I will hunt time
and bend time
to my evil
writerly plans.

So there.

— 30 —

Tweets are kind of like haikus, so you if you like haikus, you should consider following me: @jonnyeberle.
October 7, 2011

The Enemy of Completion

As an amateur filmmaker, I occasionally get contracted to film an event. In most cases, this is a simple undertaking. Bring a camera, set up in a corner out of the way, press record when it starts and press pause when it’s over. Other projects are a little more demanding.

Take, for instance, the wedding I filmed last summer. No, not Summer 2011, but Summer 2010. It was a big deal. I had never filmed an event of such magnitude or importance, so I was taking no chances. I borrowed cameras and tripods, I tripled my memory card reserves. I brought along my trusty AD to run half the show. We spent hours running ourselves ragged, trading out cards when they filled up and cameras when the batteries gave out. We raced around to get in everyone’s face and capture even the most incidental moments for posterity. Between the two of us and four cameras, we recorded over 12 hours of footage.

And 12 hours of footage has lived on my hard drive ever since. I was making progress over that summer until I got a job that demanded my attention and the school came along to gobble up little time was left. As fall gave way to winter, I experienced a hard drive crash (actually, I had physically damaged my drive by being too rough with it over the years, but that’s a different story). Luckily, I had all of the raw footage on an external hard drive, but all of my progress was lost.

In the spring, I bought new editing software (Goodbye iMovie ’08, hello Final Cut Express) and had to begin the long and arduous process of learning a whole new editing language. Once again, jobs (of which I currently have two) and classes (of which I take five — all upper division) have sucked dry the watering hole of my free time. Time is the enemy of completion.

So, here I am. Over a year after the nuptials, feeling like a scam artist for cheating a nice family out of a sizable chunk of money with nothing to show for it. Unprofessional. Inexcusable. All accurate.

However, there is hope. I have become fairly competent in my new skill set on Final Cut and finally feel comfortable enough to tackle this monumental project. As always, time is my nemesis, but next week, a ray of light is calling to me. I’m flying to New Orleans for a few days, meaning at least 10 hours of uninterrupted, Internet and text message-free time to sift and edit. I will not waste this time. After more than a year, I will get the long awaited DVDs to the family that so generously paid me upfront and regain a measure of the personal and professional integrity that I lost somewhere along the way.

Problem solved. Case closed. Now, about that year-old play footage that’s taken up residence on my SD cards…

— 30 —