What obstacles will you encounter while trying to complete a college degree

Obstacles?  Hurdles?  Barriers?  In the climate that presupposes certification, diplomas, and licensure is a must-have by discriminating employers, obtaining any lauded paper is the least of my concerns.  And while many a student climbs the rungs of academia toward that lofty accreditation, there looms larger the question, will that be enough to land that prize position?  Perhaps some tracks are less susceptible to change, such as Drafting, or Nursing, perhaps not even Biology.  The hoops that each student must jump through is dependent on the altitude by which we desire to reach, not our attitude so much.  Take the computer industry, with plethora of evolving technologies, where once a course is crafted, designed, and taught by educators to students, by the time they reach the end of the first year of coursework, the climate has changed--once cutting edge is old news, even antiquated.  No, I have no doubt that the biggest obstacle while trying to complete a college degree is augmenting that education with vendor-specific training, and re-training to both current and emerging standards.  This is specific to any field within the computer industry, specific to networking, security, and support thereof.  For my purposes, chasing the paper-tiger will be nothing short of daunting, considering the vast landscape of products that inundate every aspect of this industry.  It is the nature of the beast, and no one degree will be sufficient, and though employers want the degree, they expect the paper-tiger mentality to accompany it.

Banal to Zealot ~ Perdition to Vindicate! (Free writing exercise)

Growing up, finding a new word to either abase, abate, even define my abhor towards another, such a handy anomaly as the 'vocabulary list' aggrandized my toolbox of insults and/or adroit abhor for others.  So were the days of adolescence, posturing, postulating, rebelling against society in my own vain anarchy, defying authority, and animosity toward my parents.  And while reflecting on the triggers to this end, my autonomy bolstered by my blithe attitude, would cajole the verbiage within without regard to application, let alone applicability, save my life, let alone my outward persona. Such immaturity exuded untold instances of arrogance, ignorance, at my expense, nonetheless.  Not till years later, would such avarice for distinction, or blatant outbursts with my untrained vocabulary, would there be a realization that the use of a language is a skill, not a toolbox of handy words to hurl across the tongue.  I have to laugh at my own learning curve in this regard, as in this paragraph alone, the temptation to eviscerate my ego is seen within this piece.  Just for fun, poking at my own humanity, and weak use of humor to poke at the past assignments.  So what?  I'm a buffoon captivated in my carp of my own acerbity.  LOL!

The Most Significant Invention by Mankind is Language

From the dawn of humanity, language is the single invention to which all other inventions are possible, for without language, there could not be collaboration, let alone the sharing of a root idea.  Moreover, as this debate continues among society, at the very core of humanity is both our individuality, our own language.  However, without a shared language, no intention can be transferred, shared, or developed, outside of our own limited abilities.  Thus, language, hands-down, is the greatest invention for mankind. 

Aloft In The Clouds

 

My favorite place is untethered from earth, aloft in the clouds.  Even as a small child riding in my mom's Volkswagen bug, my early memories hinged on sitting in the rear seat all the while staring up and into the sky.  With my invisible control panel, many a trip would find my fingers manipulating the imaginary aircraft in which I rode, opening the hatch above me, lifting out into the sky, to soar high and fast, sailing across the panoramic celestial scene.  The air racing through my hair, the mist of the clouds dampening my face, and the ever-present sensation of freedom all around, serene, peaceful, I would meditate in these moments and find profound solace and contentment.  Years later, actually flying a trainer into the clouds, the excitement and anticipation that followed could never compare to those early years flying an open cockpit craft.  Within the scope of my mind, as the Piper Cub pushed up and through the clouds, the awe and shock in the moment, finally experiencing flight, and now my greatest achievement, aloft in the clouds.

A Memorable Childhood Trip

Oahu Vacation

It was a summer trip to the beach on the island of Oahu with my family.  At 8 years old, I recall sneaking an Oreo cookie to bed and hiding it under my pillow.  In the morning, I awoke to thin line of black ants coming and going from beneath my pillow.  Quickly pulling the pillow back, the ants had set up camp and were devouring my prize possession.  I took notice that the army of scavengers cleverly nestled upon every inch of the cookie, leaving nothing to spare.  The orchestra of dissection well underway, ants carried off pieces across the floor to a crack in the floor.  And so began my day, dejected, I hurriedly disposed of the remains and scattered the remaining ants to the four-winds with a broom and towel.  With no one else awake and the ocean waves heard breaking on the beach outside, I ventured outside to explore.  In Hawaii, we often were barefoot and on the beach, the sand was still reeling from the cold night under the palms.  The ocean in sight and snaking my way around a few bushes, the cove was inviting and ominous at the same time.  In a strange setting, there was nothing familiar besides the sand between my toes, the fresh air from the Pacific ocean, and the beach that could be found anywhere else on the island.  However, the exploration of this cove would be my newest and most memorable experience largely because of the associations, from the cookie to the social interaction to come.  Running into the water, I swam around in the temperate water, slightly colder than a luke-warm bath.  After awhile, I saw some boys with a dog coming down the beach and tried to interact with them.  As they went to and fro, I found myself curious about them, even wanting them to include me in their games.  At one point, one of the boys called me over and asked me if I wanted to see their underground fort.  Of course, I did.  "Stand here and guard our underground base", said the boy.  "But don't look for the opening.  It's locked.  We'll be back later and show you around."  As they walked away, I could hardly contain the excitement of being invited into their sacred space, and included in their gang.  An hour passed and my mother could be heard up the beach calling us to breakfast.  I stood my ground, diligently waiting for the boys to return.  My mom walked up and asked me what I was doing, to which I answered with vigor and passion.  She took my hand, "Come with me, son."  But I had to stay, to which she grinned and coaxed me to follow with my favorite breakfast menu waiting inside at the kitchen table, scrambled eggs and hot cocoa.  I eventually relented and enjoyed the meal, all the while purposing to stand watch afterwards.  My mom knew I might do so and gently broke the news, and the rouge that I had swallowed hook, line, and sinker.  Still, I took off to see for myself, and after several minutes of digging in the sand, I gave up.  Dejected, I regarded my surroundings, the cookie lost to the ants, and passed the rest of the trip away sitting in front of the television set.

Deborah Tannen

In Deborah Tannen's piece, "There Is No Unmarked Woman",exemplification is demonstrated in the authors usage of examples.

The Paradigm "There Is No Unmarked Woman"

Within the piece, extensive exemplification is shown from the shoes to the hair styles.  Interesting enough, while the author crafted a carefully written argument contrasting fashion between men and women, pointedly creating a stereotype focused on the sex of an individual alone.  Perhaps the author is sensitive to her audience, or is purposely avoiding other audiences largely due to the complexity that is associated with her examples.  As the paper is written, there is no default audience, what race, or religion, or ethnicity, let alone cultural or social status.  And while the author hints at social standards, there is no clearly defined understanding of what the baseline standard is, but only what the author considers important.  I find it hard to follow a piece when the subject being discussed neither implies a social factor that is inherent to the climate in which I live.  And while my own paradigm may be exclusive to others, it is not so narrow-sighted to exclude the societal awareness of common paradigms.  Surely, this is a subjective view that on its on merits is spitting in the wind.  And one might glean that this rhetoric is nothing more than author-bashing.  And you would be right.  However, the other component missing in Deborah's piece is the scope to which "There Is No Unmarked Woman" attempts to draw a distinction.  Is this title appropriate to reflect the theme, or is it a cleverly crafted diversion to distract the reader away from the critical audiences, such as myself.  Knowing this is a possibility, I would be more inclined to entertain this piece had the author incorporated the underpinnings that society also considers.  Could the reader also draw the conclusion that the author is sexist?  The point that the author draws the conclusion that men are 'unmarked', is a pure example of sexism.  I would argue that women, and men alike, are fashion-driven, and to say that only women wear this label can be construed as narrow-minded by my constituent men-folk.  Aside from the paradigm "There Is No Unmarked Woman", I would argue that there is no unmarked man.

My Purpose for attending College

Many moons, years, or what seems eons ago, after graduating from high school, I swore off college or any other institution for higher learning.  Looking back on my scholastic experience from kindergarten through high school, there were pivotal events that inadvertently impacted my otherwise less than stellar academic inclination.  In short, school was the bane of my existence largely due to being pigeonholed with a learning disability.  As cynical as it sounds, school was a useless institution and nothing more than a babysitting service for parents.  Though at the time I did not cling to this attitude, later I would gravitate to the false belief that society used public schools as a babysitting service.  It was free!  What else could a parent hope for?!  As I moved from grade school to elementary, I found myself transferred out of public school to a special education curriculum.  Unknown to me at the time, I had been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyper Disorder, or ADHD.  From then on, elementary school, middle school, and intermediate became a surreal experience wherein my education took a backseat as the teachers focused on behavioral modification.  My cynicism, another attitude that grew out of ignorance to the terminology, nonetheless, became a ruler by which I measured my success each year.  How much could I get away with, and still pass the class by doing literally nothing to achieve that grade?  This question became a dogma, that while in 'special ed', often enough I discovered, and trained myself to polish, a skill at circumventing the system.  In the final analysis, as the end of my high school approached, I had become a skilled con, learning the bare necessity, and often was the case, sensitizing the teacher to granting a passing grade.  Regardless of how far I had fallen below a D-grade, I managed to persuade a passing score.  As my life continued into the military, my first of success with superior academic excellence came in the form of self-motivation in a occupation that I was enamored with-electronics and mechanical systems.  Unaware of my scholastic level, not only did I ace every exam, I graduated in the top 5 percent of my class-with honors!  It would be the catalyst that would eventually overturn my cynical views.  However, I did manage to excel on my on-the-job training accolades for a couple decades, avoiding the college bullet.  As with anything, this too would run its course and I found experience in this recession was not going to get me a paycheck-Not anymore.  Unconsciously, I thought I could not succeed in college; more so, I could not succeed academically.  With my benefits and unemployment drying up, and being either over- or under-qualified to work, I tossed my hat into the collegiate hat, per say.  After 20+ years of creating some resemblance of common sense, I found myself taking a hard look at my greatest fear of attending school.  Here was an opportunity to practice my own guidance to other would-be commercial drivers that wanted to succeed as owner-operators.  Here, I had to knuckle-down and throw off my own resistance to change, and face the cynical views once and for all.  As I stepped into the Lane Community College advisory office, there were many instances of fear, dread, apprehension, and self-defeating thoughts.  However, I pushed threw the fog of looming failure, focused on those counselors, their input and advice, and found myself emerging out of a well-worn excuse of denial.  My purpose for attending college began to take shape, not in the final grade or piece of paper on which a degree would be printed; nor was it because of a presumed 5- or 6-figure income.  It was simply to shed, once and for all, the attitude that 'I can't', for 'I can.'  With nearly four semesters completed, I have revisited my old self-defeating patterns less and less, that through a certain amount of self-pep talk, I have managed to maintain a high GPA.  And at 3.922, considering the post-shameful GPA that I dare not mention, my other purpose for college is demonstrating to myself, and my children, that success is not just a measure of grades and accolades, but that it is a journey from self-doubt into a higher plane of self-worth.  As it turns out, swearing off any education is just senseless, and can be detrimental to a person's gainful employment, not to mention, to their own identity.

A Memorable Experience

Shortly after being employed with a software development company through a professional placement agency, I learned that the company I worked for had very different goals than that for which I had been hired.  At first, my job title had little to do with the actual assignments to which I was tasked to do.  For the majority of my tenure with this small business, I found myself jumping through hoops that not only challenged me professionally, but also personally.  At one point, my employer wanted me to supervise a work crew that had been hired to do manual labor in one of our new business offices.  "I want you to watch these porch-monkeys and make sure they work the clock."  I was taken-aback, since my own background did not subscribe to such labels, nor even considered the possibility of working for anyone that did so.  Reluctantly, I wandered over to the construction area and introduced myself.  Two African Americans were busily working and in my own opinion were very industrious about the task at hand.  With my own jobs getting behind in the lab, I shook hands with them, and confidant with their efforts, returned to my own work.  "I thought I asked you to watch those workers?", inquired my employer.  I reported their efforts and returned to my own job.  Mark, the employer, was visibly upset and I sensed a more deviant distress that I did not share his southern values.  Again, he told me to go watch them until they had finished.  Again, I went to check on the crew.  I began to question the 'hat' to which I was forced to wear by this company, and I recognized that I would have to either waffle on my values, or accept the fact that I could not continue to work for a bigot.  As the days began to blend together, Mark recruited me to ride along to his home for an odd-job.  In the past few weeks, there had been opportunities to shine under most hats, from assembling servers to installing network equipment.  This had led to more and more hats, some of which I had no clue how to support.  All the same, Mark had made a sincere effort to include me in operations far removed from my hired status, and even so, had began introducing me to his sales team.  At his home, he seemed genuinely interested in my thoughts, even asking me how I felt about watching those niggers.  "Mark, this is the first time I have worked for someone so comfortable being a bigot."  I expected a reprisal that would cost me my job.  However, that was not the case.  It was as if the label had no affect and it incited what sounded more like a revival speech for white-supremacy than a defense for his character.  It wasn't a month before I began to see the writing on the wall, as co-workers distanced themselves and management reduced my access to company assets.  On one day, I was accused of fraternizing and was called into the office.  As Mark's dad began his slow rehearsed speech, I blurted out, "I quit."  "You can't quit.  YOU ARE FIRED!"  Relieved, I smiled, stood, thanked him for the opportunity, experience, and training, and dropped the keys on the desk.

Lane Community College ~ Writing 095 ~ Journal blog