The following blog post was written by peer advisor Eamonn, an ESIA junior studying international affairs and philosophy.
I embarked on my semester abroad at Trinity College Dublin having spent my first two years of college in Washington D.C. at the George Washington University. Washington is a vibrantly cosmopolitan city, featuring an effervescent milieu of ethnicities, occupations, creeds and political perspectives. Like the city it occupies, George Washington is an intellectually diverse institution, with students and faculty drawn from across the globe. Yet for my first two years of school, I was utterly negligent of these assets offered by city and college alike. Painfully obsessed with getting ahead, I drastically abridged the possibilities of student life. My semester at Trinity was an immense achievement precisely because it stood opposed to the narrow conformism I had let myself sink into back home. At Trinity, I rediscovered my intellectual, cultural and social freedom. At Trinity, I became a better, fuller person.
Intellectually, Trinity was diametrically different from my experience at George Washington. Foremost, my international affairs major was nonexistent there. Entitled to enroll and receive credit for courses across the swathe of the School of Social Sciences and Philosophy, I ended up taking classes far beyond the pale of my usual studies: imperial Roman history, contemporary theories of ethics, and the philosophical foundations of monotheism. Alongside my more standard fare of modern history and political science, this diverse combination of classes was immeasurably broadening and enriching. I learned new methods of critical analysis, new mediums to express argument in and essentially, new ways of thinking. Many of these classes hold no formal relevance to IA, but for that very reason, have enhanced my understanding of it. Without making the decision to go abroad and enter a new academic environment, I never would have had the courage to break the traditional confines of my studies.
Culturally, I became conscious for the first time. Never one to deviate from my favorite haunts and daily routines at home, studying in Dublin motivated me to participate in a wider world. Without familiar habits to collapse into, I went out to see the astonishing country I was living in. I came to love Ireland’s primal beauty, became attuned to the nuances, contradictions and energy of Ireland’s people and engendered an appreciation of how the Irish consider themselves before history’s arc. I hiked across the country’s rugged, lonely hills, spoke, laughed, ate with its occupants in cities across the island, and pondered the successes and tragedies that clothe Ireland at the nation’s chief heritage sites. These were accomplishments I was hardly aware could be had back in Washington. Now I am brimming with eagerness to turn this newfound cultural sensibility towards home. I am likely to find startling things in familiar places because of it.
Socially, Ireland challenged me in ways I was completely unaccustomed to. For the last two years, I have had a consistent circle of friends and an unswerving daily habit. For the most recent four months, I was separated from my friends, connected through only a shaky phone service to my girlfriend, and denuded of the little things that created normality in my life, from my preferred breakfast cereal to how I pay for meals at a restaurant (unless you practically simulate having a stroke don’t expect the waiter’s attention). These changes were jarring, at times, tormenting. Yet they were in finality salutary, giving me poise and resourcefulness. Further, Ireland made me more empathetic. Denied my familiar relationships. I went out to create unfamiliar ones. This led me to play soccer with the Trinity team, to go cheer on vying Gaelic Football clubs with the locals at their pubs, and to form friendships with students studying abroad from around the globe. In these efforts, I could not simply rely on mutually shared values or understandings. I had to genuinely work to appreciate what someone found serious, what they found funny, what made them cry, and what made them get up every morning. Doing this was at times awkwardly unsuccessful, but it was conclusively rewarding.
I went abroad to Ireland with a vague desire to change my surroundings. I came back with the clear knowledge of having changed myself for the better. My mind is broader and sharper, my social horizons more diverse and flexible, and my commitments in the world imbued with a sense of the universal. This last element, so difficult to explain, but so important to what I have become, was defining of my time in Ireland. It is a sentiment begotten by my experience abroad, an intuition that through the intellectual, cultural and social differences I have witnessed, I now have a more complete idea of how we are all the same. It is this similarity, a mutuality of dignity, compassion, suffering and resilience, which I take away as not only fundamental to my immediate future, but to my character. In this sense, studying abroad was life-changing.
Category: Student Voices
#HonorsProblems: Be Weird, and Be Better for It
The following blog post was written by Aaron, a junior in the Elliott School studying conflict resolution and psychology. Aaron is also the peer advisor training coordinator! You can learn more about him here.
“You’ve got to embrace your inner strange, man. Just be weird.” – Willoughby, Everybody Wants Some
I play Dungeons and Dragons. There it is. It’s not something I’ve done forever – I played for the first time over last summer, had a blast, and now I play once a week with a group of friends.
I’ve always loved fantasy worlds. Marvel, DC, Harry Potter and beyond – you name it and I’ve probably spent a bit of time in that universe. I’ve fallen in love with movies, books, and comics.
As a new player, I quickly found the game to be incredibly social, interactive, and pushing me out of my comfort zone. In fact, I would go so far to say that it is one of the most creatively challenging things I’ve ever done. It was very difficult to communicate the rush of excitement over this discovery of a new passion to people who didn’t understand, even those who shared similar passions to those I mentioned above. I was ready for some awkwardness, but I quickly began to feel embarrassed. I was teased. Their perceptions of the game completely contrasted with my experience.
While rock climbing with one of the guys I play with – talk about the last thing you’d expect two DnD players to be up to on a rainy Saturday in DC – he shared that he rarely discussed the game with friends who didn’t play.
For me, keeping something that had brought me such an important dimension of creativity, imagination, and happiness to myself is not acceptable. Our quirky passions define us. They give us a reprieve from the stresses of the world and our more practical passions. Even more importantly, they often enhance skillsets that we don’t use in our schoolwork and other areas of life, creating a well-rounded self. These things should not be hidden – they should be celebrated. Be proud of the “weird” things you do because they make you happy in ways that “normal” things cannot. Embrace them. Share your stories and encourage others to share the passions they keep to themselves. Try someone’s passion and invite him or her to try yours.
GW is an incredible environment for career-minded individuals and those passionate about their academics. If not the first, I fall deeply into that second category. Having a passion so detached from my schoolwork is imperative to my academic success. For three hours every Saturday, I make the choice to forget about my homework, or the paper due on Tuesday, and lose myself in a character and a world. I laugh with my friends and think critically about imaginary situations. When we resurface at the end of a session, I feel refreshed and sharper, more prepared for the week of work ahead.
I didn’t discover DnD until seven months ago. If you feel you are lacking something similar, consider yourself incentivized to indulge curiosities and explore activities that you may have dismissed in the past. I never expected to find myself a DnD player, but here I am today, trying to derive greater meaning from something that makes me happy in the simplest of ways.
The Extra-Curricular: PLSA Publications – The GW Undergraduate Law Review & GW Justice Journal
The following blog post was written by peer advisor Zach, a CCAS junior studying history, law and society, and jazz studies. Zach is also on the pre-law track and wrote an amazing blog post last year about all things pre-law at GW! You can learn more about Zach here.
Happy finals week, UHPers! Today, I’m taking a break from finals studying and paper writing to tell you all about an incredible, unique opportunity on GW’s campus for anyone interested in law, policy, politics, history, philosophy, and the like. I’m referring to the two publications of the GW Pre-Law Student Association, the Undergraduate Law Review and the GW Justice Journal. Both provide incredible opportunities for students with great ideas to get them published in a professional platform that can be marketed for jobs, internships, etc.
The GW Undergraduate Law Review (ULR) is the premier publication of the Pre-Law Student Association and one of only about twenty law reviews of its kind in the nation. Writers and editors apply within the first three weeks of the academic year and work throughout the year to research, draft, revise, and publish their pieces. Each year, the ULR publishes approximately ten to fifteen full-length law review articles, composed and edited entirely by GW students, while most other undergraduate law reviews solicit articles from the general public, including other student authors around the country. We additionally pride ourselves on the use of Bluebook citation standards—the preferred citation system throughout the legal academy and profession, and a skill generally not taught until your first year of law school.
Do you want to suggest a new, more practical interpretation of the Mann Act? Do you think that the United States should do more to regulate offshore banking? Do you believe that the Supreme Court should have had a more active role in the Civil War? The ULR is the perfect place to spend a semester researching and then publish your work. We utilize a thorough process that you’ll be hard-pressed to find anywhere else, and it’s a process that produces high-quality, polished work at the end of the semester. And, yes, you can write about anything you want—all of the above examples are topics from last year’s ULR!
The final publication is housed in Gelman Library, on the shelves of the American Bar Association Library, and catalogued in the Library of Congress. So, yes, it’s REAL publication! This year’s team is already assembled and well on its way towards the April publication deadline, but stay tuned for next year’s application process! You can peruse past editions of the ULR at http://www.gwprelaw.com/undergraduate-law-review-1 (check out my article on page 217 of last year’s edition!).
However, if you want to find a place to get your ideas out there RIGHT NOW, the GW Justice Journal may be the place for you. The Justice Journal is the PLSA’s blog for legal commentary, with pieces published by a staff of writers as well as guest writers. With the Justice Journal, you’ll have the opportunity to form your opinions into a succinct article and have a staff of editors revise and comment on your piece before publication.
Topics for the Justice Journal tend to be more current-event focused, but run the gamut from every end of the legal commentary spectrum. Recent articles have dealt with the flaws of the electoral college system, racial discrimination in jury selection, foreign NGOs in China, and prosecutorial oversight. Read them for yourself at http://www.gwjusticejournal.com, and email gwplsa@gmail.com if you’re interested in getting involved!
Additionally, the Justice Journal assembles its best pieces every year in the Legal Annual Review, which gets catalogued in Gelman and the Library of Congress right alongside the ULR.
What does writing for the ULR or the GW Justice Journal get you, you ask? For one thing, you get to put a “Publications” section on your resume, which makes you feel like a BOSS. For another, you get to give prospective employers and internship bosses a glimpse into how you think about critical issues as well as your research and writing skills. From personal experience, writing for the Law Review and the Justice Journal helped start conversations at my summer job, got me internships last semester and next semester, and makes law school admissions officers’ ears perk up.
If you’d like to get any more information about either of the PLSA’s publications, or about joining the PLSA in general, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me at zsanders@gwmail.gwu.edu. I love talking about the Pre-Law opportunities we have here on campus, of which the PLSA publications are only a very small part.
The Intern Files: EMILY's List
The following blog post was written by peer advisor Delaney, an ESIA sophomore studying international affairs. Learn more about Delaney here.
I have always been a fan of the planning. In high school, I had weekly plans but also a broader monthly plan. I loved agendas, and I still do. My mom’s go-to Christmas gift to me each year is a wall calendar. It felt natural then that before coming to college, I should have a plan for my future. This plan formed midway through my junior year of high school when I discovered my love of international affairs. My plan was to major in international affairs, do all things international affairs and pursue internships with international foci. Basically, I wanted to follow a straight and narrow path toward my intended career as a diplomat for the United States.
When it came time to pursue my first internship, I maintained this line of thinking. By summer, I had a running list of about seven internships I thought I wanted to apply to. I applied and was accepted to one, which I was relatively happy with. The organization was international, but the department I was placed in did not particularly interest me. Nevertheless, I accepted the offer.
Just a couple days after interviewing with this organization, I stumbled across another internship per the suggestion of a friend. The internship was with EMILY’s List which, after a bit of research, I discovered was a domestic organization that aimed to help elect pro-choice, Democratic women into office, with a particular focus on millennial women and women of color. I loved these goals, but the organization was domestic, not international, hence a deviation from my original plan. Despite my concerns, I applied and two weeks later was offered a position on their State and Local Campaigns team.
Don’t get me wrong—I love domestic politics. I had been following the election since before the primary. I was the girl in high school who was teased about her vocal political views. My Facebook is littered with political posts, and I geeked out so hard over this election. By no means was I uninterested in domestic politics; I simply had intended to pursue a career in the international arena.
I had to make a decision. Should I forgo the opportunity to intern with an international organization in a not-so-great department to work for a domestic organization I had just become interested in a couple weeks prior? Was I seriously considering deviating from my plan?
After talking with my mom, consulting with friends from school, and some one-sided conversations with my dogs, I decided to back out of my internship at the initial international organization and accept my offer at EMILY’s List.
This decision was undoubtedly one of the best I’ve made thus far in my collegiate career. I joined a group (/network/family) of well-connected, wildly intelligent and passionate woman who genuinely care about their work. I experienced this election year in a manner I never thought possibly. I gained skills I will use for the rest of my career, participated in meaningful work, and had so much fun doing it.
One of my favorite memories from my internship was traveling with staff members and interns to the suburbs of Virginia for the weekend to encourage people to vote on election day. I woke up at the crack of dawn and sat in a small van, all the while discussing the election, our intended careers, our backgrounds, and our hopes for the future of the country, sharing laughs and small life stories. While knocking on doors, I met so many kind and interesting people and was able to bond with my colleagues in a very new way. Ultimately, adjusting my life plan to allow for an internship outside of my original goal afforded me so many unique opportunities like this one.
As it turns out, deviating from your initial plan and trusting your gut, your mom and your dogs is often the best option out there. There has not been a day I have regretted diverging from my plan, and in fact doing so has opened doors to international careers I had not previously considered. My advice: don’t be afraid to pursue opportunities that force you to adjust your original plan. You never know what doors will open and what experiences you’ll gain as a result!
#Honors Problems: My First 20 Page Paper
The following blog post was written by peer advisor Richie Beck, a SEAS sophomore on the pre-med track studying biomedical engineering. To learn more about Richie, see his full bio here.
A 10 page paper is easy. Five pages single spaced, use a bunch of block quotes, restate that wonderful work of art that is your thesis about 30 times, and make lots and lots of paragraphs. Simple, done and easy. But 20 pages is a whole different monster.
What your second semester of Origins does is give you a research paper on a 20th Century topic that you think you’re an expert at. Little do you know that the papers you read – when you begin your research at a max of two weeks prior – just blow all your novice ideas out of the water.
Your professor gives you practically the entire semester to work on and with your early semester positivity, you give yourself this plan that will make this 20 page paper an achievable feat. In hindsight that first plan is always the best.
With two weeks to go before my paper was due, I began my research and I was on this philosophy high that could only resonate with fellow Honors kids. I had my preliminary research done so I gave myself a break because it was just smooth sailing. That break turned into a week of not doing anything and procrastinating until everyone else in the class was finishing their papers and I hadn’t even written a single, coherent sentence. With a few days left, and no confidence in my abilities at all.
Each day was longer and longer and my progress wasn’t what I had planned. I was getting worried. I accepted the fact that I had to pull an all-nighter in order to finish this paper. This is something I would never recommend. Gelman at 4 AM is indescribable and with your delirium at its peak, you are reflecting on the poorest of your choices and anxious about the work you are supposed to be doing.
Walking out of Gelman that morning was a big hit to the ole self esteem, but I felt accomplished after finishing that paper.
Handing that paper in was the greatest feeling I had at GW because that was my blood, sweat and so many tears into one long paper. It made me truly understand the need for time management and putting in your 100% from day 1 of the semester.
I got a 94 on that paper and yes it went on my fridge.
The Intern Files: Randolph for Congress
The following blog post was written by peer advisor Kelsie, a CCAS sophomore studying political science and history. She also works in the UHP front office! You can learn more about Kelsie here.
I’m sure that everyone is just dying to read more about the elections of last week, but I’m here to share my own work experience during the historic 2016 cycle (keeping opinions to a bare minimum, I promise):
Last summer I worked on Susannah Randolph’s congressional campaign after I found a post looking for interns on the UCF Political Science Department website. This local election was a pretty big deal. Florida’s 9th congressional district covers a huge chunk of the state; the southeast side of Orlando, down into a generous portion of Osceola and Polk counties. The 9th district is a Democratic stronghold in Florida, with the blue candidate winning by 10 points or more in the past four elections. Alan Grayson was the two-term Representative for the district, but he left the seat to run for the Senate. The seat was open, without an incumbent, and whichever campaign won the primary election had a near certain general election win, the pressure was on.
At the beginning of the summer, most of the work I did was on a computer: compiling lists of potential voters, maintaining records of calls to donors, and researching opponents. Occasionally, I would help do ‘call time’ with donors, dialing numbers and passing calls on to Susannah.
Canvassing neighborhoods was the biggest portion of the work that I did. We would go out to different parts of the district, often driving about an hour out to Polk County on the weekends, to talk to voters. We knocked on doors and passed along information about the campaign and our candidate to voters. As the primary drew closer, we would go out almost every evening to neighborhoods in all three counties. Walking around in temperatures above 95 degrees was not the most pleasant thing to do, but I did enjoy the conversations that I had with enthusiastic voters. I learned a lot about the people that live in my community and what they wanted and needed from their representatives.
When absentee ballots were sent out, we started phonebanking every night to remind people to fill out and return their ballots. We also provided information about Susannah and answered questions about her platform. When early voting started, we called to help people make plans to vote, making sure that they know where their polling place was. I felt that this was probably the most impactful thing that I did during my time at the campaign; even if the people I spoke to didn’t vote for Susannah, hopefully they did go out to vote.
Ultimately, Susannah did not win the primary. We ended up with a respectable 28.2% of the vote in a four-way race. We did get the most votes in Polk County, which I am very proud of after having canvassed in the boiling Poinciana sun. Our opponent, Darren Soto, won the November election and went on to win the general election a week ago, keeping the district in Democratic hands.
In terms of life lessons, I learned a lot about communicating with other people. Making sure that the other person feels like they are being listened to is especially important. Voters are people, and people want to have their concerns heard. Also, I think I finally overcame the Millennial aversion to talking on the phone, it is a whole lot easier after hours and hours of practice with people that you don’t know.
The smaller sized campaign allowed me to some fantastic contacts with people who have already helped me out with future aspirations. My advice: if you do decide to stay home for a summer, make it an election year and get involved in your local politics, they really are important and an excellent learning experience.
The Extra Curricular: Resident Assistant
The following blog post was written by Aaron, a junior in the Elliott School studying conflict resolution and psychology. Aaron is also the peer advisor training coordinator! You can learn more about him here.
A Gladiator in Sweatpants with Sleepy Eyes
We all know Olivia Pope. She’s the fixer.
The one you go to with everything from the tiniest question to the monumental crisis. She’s got all the connections you think you need and even a few that you’ve never thought of trying. Most importantly, when you think you’ve had enough, she reminds you that you’re just as strong as anyone else and that together you can weather any storm.
She’s kind of like a resident advisor in college. Which is weird, because Kerry Washington WAS IN FACT an RA at GW.
As a resident advisor, I’ve had the unique privilege to be one of your live-in Olivia Popes. I act as a primary resource and a first line of defense in the residence halls. Knock or send us an email, and we’re there to answer questions, resolve conflicts, and support residents in their toughest challenges.
We’re also hiring.
So, I’d like to give you an insight into a job that has allowed me to grow as a leader, challenge myself, and meet some of my closest friends.
As a leader:
At the broadest level, being an RA drops you into a position where you have the freedom to implement your own style of leadership.
There are guidelines and building blocks provided in our training, but I feel that we are encouraged to learn the information and then apply it in the way that best allows each of us to use our diverse strengths. This is an ideal setting to try new things and learn how to be your best leader.
As a challenge:
Residents can plan all they want, but eventually many will encounter something they never expected. That’s when, as an RA, you really get to be there for someone. You need to think on your feet and be a creative problem solver. You need to know how to listen and support them.
I always have the full support of the Center for Student Engagement, but in those moments, what I say, what I do, and how I approach the problem can make a big difference in how that individual processes the situation.
This is not an easy thing to do. I can practice all I want, but it doesn’t compare to the real thing. To mediate a conflict or to sit in uncomfortable silence or to make a late-night phone call – it’s hard. It’s supposed to be hard. If it weren’t hard, everybody would be an RA. The hard is what makes it such a valuable experience. (See A League of Their Own for the origin of this paraphrasing.)
As a friend:
I had never encountered a team that was truly the epitome of the concept until I became an RA. My team, this year made up of the RAs in Potomac, is fluid and supportive. No ropes course can stand our communication skills or our ability to motivate each other. We often bounce ideas off each other and suggest new perspectives from which a problem might be tackled.
More than anything, I’m proud to call my teammates my friends. Just as we foster community in our building, we are a community in ourselves. Returning as a second year RA has given me the great opportunity to be a leader within this team, as well as make a second team’s worth of new friends.
I’m just one RA in a long line of RAs who have also been in the Honors program. It’s an invaluable opportunity. Applications open this week! Here’s the link to the application and the schedule for required information sessions! https://studentengagement.gwu.
* I chose to write this blog of my own volition. My views do not reflect those of the CSE. I simply wish to share my experience and encourage other UHP students to check it out!
Dancing on the Seine – Winning the Luther Rice Fellowship
The following blog post was written by Linda Ryan, a CCAS junior studying dance and exercise science.
The year was 2015. It was eleven-thirty PM. I was in my room, holding a can of Pringles in one hand and scrolling through my Luther Rice Research Proposal on my laptop with the other. My faculty mentor had sent her recommendation a few days earlier, I was finished proofreading, and it was time to click “Send.”
Jump ahead a few months to April – the third floor of Gelman. Finals were nigh. I was writing a paper in my pajamas. And I had just received an email saying that GW was giving me a grant to do research in England and France that summer.
Fast forward a couple times more and you’d see me choreographing in London’s Victoria & Albert Museum; taking notes on the doorknobs in King Louis XIV’s bedroom; dancing outside of Tube stations, on the banks of the Seine, and all over the Chateau of Versailles; and now preparing to present that choreography in GW’s MainStage Season later this month.
It’s a weird story – but it happened to me. And (something like) it can happen to you too, if you apply for a Luther Rice Research Fellowship. The Rice Fellowship offers a unique opportunity to execute a funded, high-level, independent research project during your undergraduate career. You decide what to study, where to go, how to do it, and what the product will be. GW provides the means to make it happen.
My Rice Fellowship sent me on a solo trip to Europe – where will yours send you?
Study Ablog: From No Regrets in Seville with Love
The following blog post was written by peer advisors Ellen, a sophomore in GWSB studying international business. You can learn more about Ellen here.
After taking 12 years of Spanish language classes, conversing with my teachers and peers during class just wasn’t enough anymore. I was reading, writing, speaking, and even dreaming in Spanish by the end of my junior year of high school. I read Spanish literature, listened to Latin music, and could converse with native speakers with ease. In one year I was going to begin my education at GW majoring in Business Administration and minoring in Chinese, leaving no room for further pursuit of the Spanish language—but I wasn’t ready to give it up yet, I couldn’t give it up yet. Something was missing.
I knew I had to go abroad. This was the only way I could gain closure on my Spanish experience and head into college with no regrets. I wanted to go to Spain so badly that it hurt, but I had no idea where to start and how I was going to finance the trip. I talked to a classmate who studied in Seville as part of a summer program, and thankfully, she was kind enough to coach me through the application process. I wrote my application essays in Spanish, she edited them, and I earned a partial scholarship. I saved money from my part-time job to finance tuition for the program, and my family picked up the airfare as my high school graduation present. With the support of my friend, teacher, and family, I was able to make my dream a reality—I was finally going to Spain.
Early June was high school graduation, and two weeks later I was on my way to Sevilla, a city in the province of Andalucía in Southern Spain. The journey was my first time flying alone and internationally—and after two layovers (one of which was a 10-minute sprint through the Portuguese airport due to my flight being delayed) and three planes later, I finally arrived in Seville. My time there was unforgettable. I met amazing people, my Spanish improved tenfold, and I experienced a completely different way of life. I couldn’t stop smiling walking along the cobblestone streets, the sweet smell of fresh bread in the air, the sound of accordions in the background, and the sun shining on my skin. I was amazed by the history, architecture, and breathtaking views of Reales Alcázares, the royal palace of ancient Muslim kings, La Giralda, the third largest cathedral in the world, and the legendary Plaza de España. Studying in Seville truly felt like a dream, and provided the perfect ending to my Spanish experience.
The most meaningful part of studying abroad wasn’t the sites, the food, or the language, but how I grew as a person. I took the initiative, sought out the necessary resources, and proved to myself that I can do anything I set my mind to with hard work and the support of my friends and family. By the end of this trip I was a pro traveler and a more confident, knowledgeable, and independent woman. If you are dedicated, you can turn your dreams into reality and live your life with no regrets, but the first step is to believe. And although I dearly miss the Spanish bread, gelato and beautiful buildings, I was excited to come home and share my experiences with my friends and family who helped me get there.
#HonorsProblems: Surviving Organic Chem
The following blog post was written by Naomi Naik, a CCAS senior studying biology and english (through the combined BA/MA program). Naomi is also pursuing the pre-med track. You can find out more about her here.
The molecule looked like a giant jellyfish. Or maybe a spider. Halfway through my organic chemistry final, the monster lay there on the page, mocking me. My task: explain how the ungainly molecule folds into a tidy package. The problem: I had no clue. Maybe if I looked at it sideways? No, that didn’t help. This was getting ugly.
Contemplating changing my major, I spent eight months sophomore year slogging through two semesters of organic chemistry, or orgo, the course widely known for weeding out pre-meds. When I wasn’t hopelessly confused, I spent my time wondering what the class was actually about. Because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just about organic chemistry. For me, the overriding question was not “Is this on the test?” but rather “What are they really testing?”
Orgo has been haunting pre-meds since 1910, when the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching released a landmark report calling for tougher admission standards to medical school and for medical training based on science. Hence emerged science prerequisites that have remained virtually unchanged: two semesters each of biology, physics and general and organic chemistry.
The report was meant to professionalize medicine but led to generations of doctors more grounded in science than in the humanities. This is not necessarily bad, but lately a sense has emerged that the pendulum has swung too far. Medical schools are tweaking admission protocols, looking beyond an A in orgo for future doctors who are less Spock and more Kirk.
So what is organic chemistry, anyway? And why is it so difficult? Basically, orgo examines how molecules containing carbon interact, but it doesn’t require equations or math, as in physics. Instead, you learn how electrons flow around and between molecules, and you draw little curved arrows showing where they go. This “arrow pushing” is the heart and soul of orgo.
To develop orgo intuition, you solve problems and draw arrow-pushing mechanisms again and again, until they become instinctive. This takes a huge amount of time, for me 20 to 30 hours a week. The class turned me into a bore, a sleep-deprived, orgo-obsessed grind who saw the shapes of molecules in every sidewalk crack and snack cracker.
My study group and I called orgo the “bad boyfriend,” because it stole so much time from our personal lives. As in, “I just blew off Thanksgiving dinner to hang out with the bad boyfriend.” This is one thing that orgo is testing: whether you have the time and desire to do the work.
At first, this commitment of time and psyche did not pay off. On the first exam I scored well below the mean. My problem sets came back with whole pages slashed out in red pen. I felt stupid and demoralized. But slowly, orgo awakened my long-dormant spatial-reasoning skills, and I (occasionally) started to enjoy some of the problems.
Second semester, I had a breakthrough. On the third exam, stuck halfway through the final problem, I tried a new strategy. I put down my pencil, leaned back and stopped thinking. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the answer sprang into my mind’s eye. “Oh, my God!” I thought. “I actually have orgo instinct!” After that, everything started clicking.
When the final exam came, I was ready. I chugged through the first few pages, then stopped. There lay the giant jellyfish-spider, streaming carbon chains like tentacles. Draw the arrows? I didn’t even know where to start. Next problem, just as bad. The test became not a showcase of my new orgo instinct but a scramble for damage control. I guessed I got a C.
When the test ended, the students sat stunned. “What was that?” my study partner asked. “A monkey could have done better on that exam than me.” Later, in the bathroom, one of our classmates sobbed as another consoled her.
The day after the final, a physician friend gave me a celebratory gift: a stethoscope. I told her about the exam, and she nodded. “That’s a terrible feeling,” she agreed. “It’s kind of how you feel when you lose your first patient.”
Of course, bombing a test isn’t the same as watching someone die. But what’s similar is that dreadful realization of your own limits, that terrible moment when you stop controlling the situation and start mitigating the damage. I expect that’s an all-too-common feeling in medicine. I often felt that way in orgo, but kept going back for more. That’s what orgo is testing, I think: resilience. And humility.
I got a B on the final, by the way. You know what? I’ll take it!
