The Perception of the gym

If you read my blog regularly, you’ve probably caught onto the fact that I’m a big believer in the power of daily exercise. Whether I spend an hour on the courts, running, or walking, I find that hour of some form of exercise is super beneficial to my sleep, study, and energy levels. While I can (finally!) see my legs when I walk out of the dorm in the morning (a.k.a I can finally wear shorts), it is snowy, wet, and cold for most of the year in New England. During those days, it is difficult to stay motivated and go out for a run or walk, and it’s definitely impossible to play tennis on an icy court. In those months of the year, I find myself going to the gym to use the ellipticals, mats, and some light weights to get in a good workout. I’ve always noticed that the number of girls and boys in the gym is pretty equal and there are the “regulars” in the gym who appear anywhere from 3-5 times a week. However, it recently came to my attention how intimidating the gym is for many people and the social stigma that surrounds the room itself.

When I look around the gym, most people who hang out in there regularly are varsity athletes or are passionate about fitness. Many athletes from the same team workout together in groups, which can be even more intimidating. I’ve haven't yet been intimidated by going into the gym, but it recently came to my attention that many of my close friends are. Last week, I was working out on the elliptical when I got a call from a friend. She asked me where I was. I replied I was working on the elliptical in the gym. She said cool, I’ll be there in 30 minutes. Can you stay with me while I stretch? I told her I would likely be done before 30 minutes but she insisted that I stay. I wondered why, and she told me that she was afraid to go into the gym alone without a “regular” because she never went herself. She also said she felt uncomfortable just going to the gym to stretch since she wasn’t going to break a sweat like all the people who squat hundreds of pounds or spin for an hour. In other words, she didn’t want to be judged. 

That’s precisely the social stigma surrounding the gym; it’s a persisting notion that all people who go to the gym lift 400 pounds, squat 200 lbs, run for 30 minutes, and are all super in shape. As a “regular” at the gym, I know this is untrue and I wish there was some way to change this perception on campus. I wish I could just tell people that the gym is a place for anyone with an intention and a purpose. Some people are in there to get stronger, others are trying to get faster, some of trying to change the way their body looks, and some are simply there to stretch.  While I can’t speak for others, I find that going to the gym with other people always decreases the anxiety that’s associated with it. As of now, I don’t know any immediate fixes, but I believe it’s important to make the gym a safe space on campus and not a place that represents some sort of social symbol. It’s not an easy fix, and other kids on campus may have talked about this issue before. I’m not exactly sure what I would do but I hope that someday, the gym can be a more welcoming place for everyone and not a room on campus that anyone has to think twice about before entering. 

Here's Passion

In everything we do, there are bound to be setbacks. I suppose passion is when you continue loving what you do even through those tough times and going into something with the willingness to fight. 

Tennis taught me that this week. At the beginning of the week, I was struggling with myself in the sport. I hadn’t been elected a co-captain and I was playing doubles instead of my preferred game, singles. At the time, during those rainy days where we didn’t have practice or those windy days where I struggled to hit the ball the way I wanted, I couldn’t focus on anything besides the fact that I wasn’t playing singles and that I hadn’t gotten the leadership position I strove for. Late at night, I would find myself watching quick match points on Youtube to accrue some inspiration and I questioned whether I wanted to stay on the team and whether I even wanted to play tennis anymore. At the time, it felt as if I couldn’t imagine myself being on the team if I didn’t play singles. 

Our game on Friday indubitably reversed these negative thoughts I’d been having at the beginning of the week. I played a singles exhibition match which I won 6-0 and a tight doubles match where my partner and I lost 7-9. But after I stepped off the court and got onto the bus back to campus, I couldn’t help but notice how…great I felt. It didn’t matter that I’d lost in doubles because my partner and I fought for every point. We came back after losing three games in a row.  We came back even though someone in the crowd was rooting for the other team. He was making funny (but distracting) comments such as: “LOVE that volley! Right over to the next area-code!” or “I love my poached eggs”. He was hilarious and his commentary set a unique dynamic on the court for my partner and me. Nevertheless, we came back after being down 6-3 and we had to play an extra game because it was so close. It was a match worth fighting for and I don’t regret it one minute. I look back at that match and I smile. 

When I look at with a clear head, I realize that I’ll never quit tennis. It’s like a part of me. It’s doesn’t matter how good I become or whether my skill declines later in life. I feel this sport is truly a part of me and I get inspired in a unique way every time I walked off a court satisfied.  I thought about some of the good points and how my partner and I overcame our distractions with the annoying fan. I keep thinking about how amazing a feeling it is being able to fight for something so intensely in the moment. Even though I played an exhibition match for singles, I played some technically advanced points and, of course, some not so bright points. It was that concoction of events that lead me to feel extremely happy even just to be able to play. I was talking to my friend about it on Friday night and she told me: “it means you’re really passionate about tennis since you’re able to find happiness in it after you’ve faced some obstacles”. I guess I am. But now I also know what the word passion means to me. It’s hard to put into words and I suppose it’s more a gut feeling than anything else. It’s a happiness that arises and a willingness to work through anything that comes in the way. And it’s something you wouldn’t ever abandon. 

Living for the 1%

I find myself saying that a lot lately: living for the 1%. I use this phrase in conversations, discussions in class, and most prevalently in my decision-making processes. Even though I say it so often, I wanted to use this post to clarify for myself what it means to me. 

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There are some people in this world whom we’re bound to dislike, whether it be due to the way they talk, the way they think, or just how they present themselves in public. Even when I find myself in classes or just walking along the paths of campus, I endeavor to enter every conversation judgment free. I’ve found this practice has allowed me to capture different parts of everyone and compartmentalize these traits into someone whom I call myself. 

There’s one particularly interesting person in my grade from whom I learned this phrase that I find myself repeating. He has surface-level knowledgable on an expansive array of topics and is one of the most opinionated people I’ve met. One of his mantras is living with some risk for the greater majority of the times when things actually work out okay. 

After lunch, I was sitting in Commons finishing up some work before my next class. Suddenly, I realized that I’d forgotten to bring a sheet of paper that my teacher had handed out the day before. He usually doesn’t refer to handouts from previous classes, but in the moment, a sudden fear that he would ask we take it out became the impetus for my plan to take an 8-minute walk back to my dorm to get it. Only a few minutes remained before the class would begin, so I told my friend that I needed to run back to my dorm to get the sheet. He replied matter of factly: Do you really think he’s gonna check it? Like he never does. I said it was a possibility, and I wouldn’t want to be called out on that. He promptly replied that it was better to come to class without a paper that would most likely not be used than to come to class late with a paper that had that 1% chance of being referred to. I thought about it for a moment and could see his point. Am I living life for the 1%?

It reminded me of a topic we studied in my Proof and Persuasion class about framed risk. The example I remember most vividly is about a car accident. There was a scenario where a person dies in a car because they wore the seatbelt. This seems like an unlikely and merely unfortunate situation since seatbelts are designed to ensure safety. However, the public overreacts to the incident and deems seatbelts as inherently dangerous. This is what I consider to be living for the 1% chance, as people have changed their perceptions on something that proves effective the majority of the time. 

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I suppose what I’m learning is to take some more risks with life and to minimize inevitable outcomes of fighting for the slim chances that something might happen. If I’d gone back to get that handout from the previous class, I would have sacrificed my timeliness to class to get a sheet that we likely would not use. If people stopped wearing seatbelts, they would save themselves from the 1% chance that they die from wearing a seatbelt but escalate the probability of death from an accident in general. 

I guess what I’m really weighing are priorities and risk. I’m figuring out the value of doing something in the grand scheme of things and weighing the benefits against the inherent negative outcomes. This is becoming increasingly important in my high school career, as I’m finding I have less time to make up for these minor mistakes (forgetting a sheet of paper, forgetting to take reading notes etc.). This can signal one of two things, either I walk into class slightly less prepared but pull through just this once or create a new fault that cannot be excused. 

Time's greatest gift

Time’s greatest gift is its ability to alleviate and dissipate our most troublesome worries. 

To my 16-year-old ears, the phrase “Just sleep on it” couldn’t stand truer.  Magic happens overnight and I’ve discovered how dark clouds of worry in my head before bedtime clear when I wake up. It’s starting fresh. Issues and worries that seem to have no end during the long nights suddenly appear to have feasible solutions. To this sense of clarity, I thank time. 

Sometimes, things happen during the day that I know even sleep won’t mitigate and these occurrences can strain my ability to think clearly. I found that time creates distance. It’s like we’re on an evergoing train powered by time where every stop is a event. Time drives us further from each stop. I’ve discovered that after a certain threshold of stops, I end up looking at that troublesome stop in the distance with some pity. In certain cases, of course, these are life-altering stops, but most of the time they look petty in the distance. I end up asking myself, was it really worth all that stress? 

Regular readers of my blog will know that I’m a believer in the idea that everything happens for a reason and I’ve come to realize that time is a significant proponent.

So better things can fall together

https://www.tripsavvy.com/switzerland-map-and-travel-guide-1509044

"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together" -Marilyn Monroe

Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Perhaps my online-book-shopping methodology is catching up with me. I usually do my book shopping on Amazon's Charts. The primary problem I've discovered from this methodology is that I miss out on the bestsellers from earlier years, since the Charts are composed of the newest bestsellers. I've missed out on a lot of good bestsellers, which I plan on revisiting, one of which is Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell, published in 2008. When I posted a story on Instagram about this book today, several people replied to me saying they’ve also read (and really enjoyed!) this book. Apparently, this book is quite popular and well-known, yet I’d just become aware of it last week! The examples in the book blew my mind every step of the way, and Gladwell’s research is truly insightful. 

Outliers is riveting from page 1. Gladwell begins by discussing how history and opportunity play a role in a person’s success and he makes the argument that success is not so “random” an occurrence. He first analyzes star-hockey players. For years, many people have been trying to figure out what it takes to be a hockey star. Of course, hard work, talent, dedication, and physical size play a tremendous role in determining how successful the athlete will be. However, Gladwell notices that most star hockey players are born in the months January, February, and March, with the fewest athletes born in fall and the last couple months of the year.  He wonders why this trend occurs.

It turns out that there is a logical, and utterly random reason, as to why this pattern persists: little league cutoff dates are on January 1. What this cutoff date suggests is that hypothetically, on a given team, there could be a person born on January 1 and a person born on December 31. They’re almost a year apart, which doesn’t seem like a lot, but the December 31 kid is a day too old to play the younger team, so they’re stuck being the youngest on the older team. While a year doesn’t seem like much, there’s a major gap in the physical development between the two players. The January 1st kid will probably be bigger, faster, and stronger, making the coaches want to spend more time coaching them and give them more play time. The difference between these two players will, therefore, start out very small, but year by year, the difference in their skill levels will differ greatly with the extra play time and coaching. One of Malcolm Gladwell’s primary claims in Outliers is that timing is one of the most crucial and uncontrollable aspects of successful people. Building upon this principle, Gladwell explores how the Beatles and Bill Gates are connected, the secret behind geniuses, and how 1930 and being in the garment industry sets one up to be a successful lawyer in NYC. 

The first part of Outliers was certainly my favorite, though the second part none the less captivated me. Part 2 focuses more on how culture plays a role in outliers. My favorite example in the second part is Gladwell’s analysis of plane crashes, and how where the pilot and his crew are from influences the chance that an accident will happen. The chapter of the book analyzes the Power Distance Index, developed by Geert Hofstede. This index measures the distribution of power between nations and I believe one of the primary ways Hofstede’s measures this index is through seeing how likely individuals are to stand up to/rebel against authority with whom they disagree. Meanwhile, Gladwell uses recordings from the cockpits of planes that crashed in the past, and analyzes how first officers and flight engineers from high PDI countries are less likely to directly report when a something on the plane is malfunctioning. This chapter analyzes the inherent nature of cultural habits and ways of communication between ordinary people and authority from country to country. Part 2 of Outliers also analyzes how history and the culture that has been developed around that historical event has influenced people’s behaviors and successes in the modern world. 

I would recommend Outliers to anyone looking for a fast read that’s meaningful. I honestly started seeing things in a way I hadn’t thought of before. While Gladwell may be perceived by some as taking a pessimistic viewpoint on the success, I think he presents ample evidence and reassures readers that no one succeeds on their own. I found Outliers on the “Stay Curious” table at the COOP in Harvard Square. I think that’s a fitting description.

Everything Happens for a reason

I’m too often lead to believe that everything happens for a reason. Maybe I’m missing a logical fallacy here. Or perhaps I just don’t notice how nothing worked out just fine on those days where things seem to be spinning out of control.  I’ve come to realize how holistic I am.  I often see random connections between different things, or perhaps I just hope certain things happen. A while back, I wrote about this idea…that everything happens for a reason. Between then and now, my logic has been working to fully experience this idea and wrap my head around. I’d sort of forget the notion for a bit, and then return to it when something relevant in my life occurred. Last week, there was a dance at school, and after my experience at the end of the dance, I don’t think I will forget the idea that everything happens for a reason. 

Andover has dances quite frequently, and at the closing of every term, there’s a semi-formal. Getting ready may be the best part, as everyone in my dorm is helping each other get ready and it’s simply amazing to see everyone dress up together after a term of hard work. The process of dressing up is made a cultural element of our school along with taking photos…lots of them…before our party. The funniest scene I’ve been to is going to a party within the first 30 minutes to find an empty dance floor and a huge crowd of people taking photos at the entrance.  We’re young. And we like to take photos. However, last weekend, I decided not to bring my phone with me because I somehow came to the conclusion that dancing with a phone in one hand was inconvenient. I left my phone in the pocket of my jacket, which was hanging up with all the other jackets. I remember being frustrated when I didn’t have my phone to take photos. I kept saying to myself, “how could you have left your phone in your jacket?” After that evening, it turns out leaving my phone in my pocket was one of the better impulsive mistakes I’ve made in a while. When the dance was over, I went over to the coat racks to find my jacket and I couldn’t find it. After searching (and much panicking), I realized that someone had probably taken it. It’s worth a pretty penny, but I realized that probably must have mistaken it for theirs since it’s a popular jacket at school. 

Thank goodness I hadn’t been able to take those photos at the party! If I had, I would have lost my jacket and have had to walk back to the dorm in 20-degree weather with a sleeveless dress. I used the handy-dandy Find My iPhone app to recover my jacket and true to my initial notion, someone had mistaken it for theirs on the coat rack. 

Perhaps things may seem dire in the midst of them. Maybe I failed that one math test as a wakeup call for me to study more for the following one. Thinking for the benefits of the future has been a primary focus of mine and I place this odd faith on some eternally existent fate that each of us is predestined to follow. Failing once, or not getting something once in the moment is okay, as long as I take something away from it for the future. The present matters…but it really prepares us for the future. 

Is this what the real world looks like?

This term, I’ve been doing a community engagement (Andover’s version of community service) called Bread and Roses Cooking. The first Wednesday of every term is when I head out with three other people who are part of the event and we make a salad for Bread and Roses. Bread and Roses serve meals to people who stop by in a hope to help those living in poverty. It continues to impress me how the organization has been sustained for so many years simply through donations from locals. Bread and Roses is able to provide a full three-course meal to every person who walks in through the door. My experience this term doing Bread and Roses Cooking has been very positive. My peers and I are usually very quiet when we’re cutting up the vegetables but on the road, we tend to have some great conversations. 

The teaching fellow who drives us to and from Bread and Roses went to Deerfield so he has a pretty similar account of high school to us. Something that I’ve noticed quite a bit through high school and even in middle school is the “social hierarchy”. There always seems to be the same couple of people who do similar things and act a similar way who are on the “top” of the social hierarchy. Moreso, I’ve found that the social structure which develops within classes almost never shift and that people usually fall into proportionally similar places between middle school to high school. 

Why is that? As a student, we never talk about social hierarchies though it’s tacitly understood by most. I’m curious, of course, there certainly are going to be social hierarchies after college when we’re in the workforce. In any field there will be those who dominate and who rise to popularity through external factors beyond their knowledge or work ethic in a particular field. I wonder how these échelons will be different than high school. Is it still going to be the male varsity athletes on top? I’ve felt like from middle school to high school I’ve almost fallen into the same échelon even though I’ve switched schools and I’m older.  Perhaps this is a natural and inevitable fallacy of an individuals persona, and merely the type of person we are influences how we’re perceived within a large group. 

I wonder how this plays out in the real world. I sometimes believe that Andover is an accurate representation, a simulation almost, of what it’s like to be in the real world. Even though it’s only high school, there are certainly times where I, as a woman, feel judged more harshly as a woman. There are also times where I, as a woman, do really like the certain stereotypes in the real world apply even on our campus. I think implicit biases are also a reality on this campus as they really are anywhere else in the world. When I told our teaching fellow about these points, he told us that there certainly will be social hierarchies in the workforce. They’re different than how they look in high school, though age plays a bigger role. He told me that often times people don’t care about it as much. Still, I have this innate feeling that Andover does embody in part a liberal version of what the social scene in adulthood may resemble. Maybe our teaching fellow is right: we just shouldn’t think too much about it. 

Take care of the minutes

 

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"Take care of the minutes, and the hours will take care of themselves" -Earl of Chesterfield

The side we don't see

Once we get a certain age, I’ve noticed there are things we do not tell people about ourselves. I would suspect that each and every one of my peers at school has stories and hidden talents that no one on campus knows about. I remember in elementary school, it felt as if everyone knew everything about everyone. Oh yes, this person did this over the summer, met this person, had Christmas dinner with this person, this person accidentally spilled chocolate milk on his shirt etc. Elementary school seemed to be those years where we seemed to share everything about ourselves and about our families to all our classmates. People didn’t bother as much with the details; most people were too preoccupied sharing their own stories to listen to others. 

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed how more and more people I’m friends with have secret talents, secrets, and niches to their personalities that I had only found out recently. For example, one of my friends in my French class has already done two triathlons…and when I sit there in class, I never knew that about him! Or my other friend in my fitness class who runs an energy drink business with his brother. I had dinner with one of my closest friends at school last night, and she told me that she’d published a research paper last summer. When I heard this, it blew my mind. One of my closest friends had done research and published a paper in physics! What’s mutual about these examples I’ve mentioned is that their hidden aspects of people I would have never recognized at a first glance, or even after being friends with them for a while (over a year), only now have I found out about their inner selves, the people they are outside of academics, or off campus. 

There’s this adage: people are not how they appear to be on the outside. I suppose for a while I never believed that saying, maybe because I was still young. When I was younger, I believed everyone would tell me everything. But as I’m beginning to experience now, most people I’m going to meet are truly very interesting people. Most have stories and histories few people know about because people chose to keep it hidden. That’s something I didn’t pick up before. And the amazing thing is: if I just stop and open my ears, I’ll probably learn something interesting.