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#just because you failed miserably to see the point of the great gatsby doesn’t mean everyone is that inept at media analysis
lilmungie · 3 years
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hate when i see a post that’s like. a good opinion then op clarifies and it’s like oh actually you’re insane nevermind
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bridgetkat-blog · 4 years
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Imposter Syndrome
           “You should be an English teacher,” my dad used to tell me.
           And I would respond with something along the lines of, “English teachers get paid shit.”
             I sat in a blue, plastic chair in the front of my Calc AB classroom—one of the only air-conditioned classrooms in my budget-conscious Catholic high school—as my teacher projected a piece of paper onto the front wall. Written on the paper was a distribution of scores earned on the most recent test.
           “One person did get a hundred,” my teacher said as he gave us a run-down of the score distribution. “This is the first time someone has ever gotten a hundred percent on this test.”
           After he had finished discussing the scores, he began passing the graded tests back to the students. After anxiously awaiting the news of my score, he finally handed me my graded test. Bright red ink was scribbled on the top of the paper:
100
           Math was my niche, my safe haven, where I always knew I would succeed. Where I never feared failure.
             I’ve never been good at reading. It was always my lowest-scoring section on standardized tests. I read slowly, and sometimes I realize that I haven’t been paying attention for the last two pages. My eyes scan through the words, but they kind of just go in one eye and out the other. Not only did this make reading difficult for me, but the frustration it caused made reading utterly unenjoyable.
             I come from a family of health-care providers. My father is a physician, my mother is a PA, my uncle and his wife are both physicians, my grandfather is a surgeon, and my older sister is in medical school. My dad could always tell me if I had strep or not. He once used his stethoscope on me at home because I thought I was dying[1]. On another occasion, I had the stomach flu, and he called in a prescription anti-nausea tablet for me—it was that easy. When I had cramps, my mom would tell me, “the prescription dose for ibuprofen is 800 milligrams, so you can take four.” I couldn’t go to the grocery store with my dad without running into four different people that he either worked with or treated. When I got the stomach flu again in college, by parents were able to tell me everything from the best position to lie in to the best over-the-counter medicine to buy.
           There was never any explicit pressure for me to follow in my family’s footsteps, and I never felt any implicit pressure either; health care was just all I ever knew.
             Before I was an English major, I had some pre(mis)conceptions of “The English Major”: obsessed with books, wears big hipster glasses, spends free time reading The Great Gatsby while drinking tea in locally-owned cafés. Has read the entire Harry Potter series three times. Mildly, endearingly socially awkward, but otherwise unremarkable. At one point, I thought people chose to major in English because they weren’t good at anything else. That’s why I was hesitant to become one myself. Why would I be an English major when I’m good at other things – “more useful” things, “more impressive” things? Why would I give people a reason to think I was unremarkable?
             As I approached high school graduation, I never felt confident about what I wanted to do in college. I never felt like thinking about it. I told myself that I knew what I wanted to do just so I could stop worrying about it. I knew I was confident in math, and I was above average in science, so I decided on biomedical engineering—the same major my older sister had already been studying. It just made sense—I could use my talents in math and science, I could be involved in healthcare, and best of all, I could make good money. It made sense, didn’t it?
             I vaguely remember one day in 3rd grade when my class was having silent reading time. My teacher—who I did not particularly like—came over to my desk and told me that I shouldn’t mouth the words while I’m reading. I didn’t understand why doing that was bad, and I still don’t really understand now. I’m not sure if it was solely for that reason or if other evidence was involved, but my teacher ended up making me do one-on-one reading practice with a volunteer parent. This is the earliest memory I have of feeling stupid.
             I went into the semester optimistic—lots of people on my floor were in engineering, my older sister was a tutor in the College of Engineering, and I expected to enjoy all of my classes. But within two weeks, I decided I hated engineering and Engineering Problem Solving I[2]. “Everyone hates EPS 1,” they all said. “It doesn’t mean you hate engineering.” How exactly does one not hate engineering? was my only thought. I stuck with my engineering math class because it was basically just Calc II, and I wasn’t against advancing my math expertise.[3]  
           At this point, I was back at square one. So what the fuck do I do now? I decided to jump right on something else I had considered in the past: physical therapy. I had been interested in it since my senior year of high school[4], so the next semester, I began my work as a major in human physiology on a Pre-Physical Therapy track. It made sense, didn’t it?
             You know those fat literature books you get in middle school? I always read the dumb little stories but hardly could remember what they were about. In high school, I Sparknotes’d my way through Huckleberry Finn and Of Mice and Men. I think I actually read about 50% of To Kill A Mockingbird. And I still got an A in American Lit, presumably because I’m good at bullshitting[5]. I got a 2190[6] on the SAT because, unlike the ACT, there is no reading portion.
              One day — after a year in Human Physiology, a week of shadowing, and semesters full of bullshit classes — I had an epiphany: I fucking hate this. Maybe it was the professors; maybe it was the three-hour labs in windowless rooms; maybe it was the fact that every class made me cry on at least one occasion. But I knew that I hated it. And besides that, how does a painfully shy five-foot-tall girl work as a health care provider, anyway?
           So for the next couple of weeks, I panicked and obsessed over what I was going to do. There I was, a second-semester sophomore, looking to completely start from scratch as I went into my junior year, and the self-reprimanding thoughts began. Can you pick something you actually enjoy for once? This is the rest of your life we’re talking about. Stop letting other people’s expectations make decisions for you and get your shit together.
               But I’ve loved writing since I took my first creative writing class in high school. As soon as I was formally introduced to it, creative writing became my coping mechanism for any and all things. It was my way of sorting out the jumbled thoughts in my head into something I could translate into words. And my composition teacher was constantly astounded by my flawless grammar. So, despite my less-than-ideal track record in reading, I chose to be an English major. Am I actually, diagnosably insane? Probably. But more than a year later, do I regret it? Not even a little bit.
             I need to make one thing clear for those who have the mindset I used to have: English is not easy, or useless, or unimpressive, or unremarkable. STEM students see English as a cop-out major, but ironically, those are precisely the students who are most likely to fail miserably in an English class. STEM is numerical, logical. English is subjective, creative, and abstract. Throw a stereotypical Engineering student into a Chaucer class or a creative writing class, and they are bound to have difficulties. But they don’t think so. They think it’s easy. I’d like to see a STEM major write a three-page paper on four lines of The Canterbury Tales. I’d like to see a STEM major read one of Shakespeare’s Sonnets and even have a clue what it’s talking about. I’d like to see a STEM major write five pages on the symbolism of fire in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. I’d like to see a STEM major read five novels in four weeks. I’d like to see a STEM major take a class entitled “Chaucer” and even make it out alive.
             I don’t read for fun, but maybe I would if I had the time. I don’t read or study in cafés because I can’t concentrate if I can discern nearby conversations. I wear glasses, but only because I need them to see, and contacts make my eyes itch. I’m socially awkward, but neither mildly nor endearingly. I’ve never read The Great Gatsby, or Gone with The Wind, or Great Expectations, or any books of the Harry Potter series[7]. I do drink tea, but only to calm my clinical anxiety.
           I always thought I had to go into math and science because I was especially good at those subjects. To me, there was never even a question of what I enjoyed; what mattered was what I was good at. People always asked me, “Why do you want to be an engineer?” or, “Why do you want to be a physical therapist?” And my answer was always based on the fact that I excelled in math and science, not that I enjoyed those areas. It only dawned on me that I should enjoy my career when I was halfway through college and it all suddenly became real.
           Why had I never considered a career in English, you ask? Because in 21st Century America, a successful career in English[8] is “unrealistic,” a “fantasy.” Doesn’t pay well[9]. Most people don’t even consider pursuing a career in English because it’s generally accepted that it’s not even a valid option, unless you want to be “stuck” teaching or working as a full-time barista, sharing a four-bedroom apartment for the rest of your life. And so what if someone does want that?
           Sometimes I worry about how I’ll be able to teach English if I’m not particularly gifted in reading – literally half of the subject. But then I realize that that is exactly the reason I will succeed as an English teacher. Some teachers are so gifted in their field of study that they don’t know how to help people who don’t understand it immediately. When you’re naturally talented in an area, it’s hard to explain it to someone else. It’s when you actually have to work to learn the material that you understand how to teach it to someone else. The best teachers are the ones who understand how it feels to struggle and know how to help. I’m going to be that teacher for someone.
           But yeah, I’ll probably get paid shit.
 [1] I was not, in fact, dying.
[2] Engineering Problem Solving I, or EPS I, is a core introductory course for all engineering students.
[3] I ended up getting an A.
[4] Throughout high school, I had a chronic muscle knot near my right shoulder blade—a result of cheerleading, show choir, and bad posture. Eventually, it got so bad that I started going to physical therapy. In my efforts to relieve this massive knot, I became infatuated with muscles and how they functioned. And that’s how I got interested in the field of physical therapy.
[5] A lifetime of mandatory religion classes in a Catholic school system gets you good at that kind of thing.
[6] Out of 2400. This is approximately equivalent to scoring a 33 out of 36 on the ACT.
[7] I have seen all of the Harry Potter movies, though; I don’t live under a rock.
[8] Besides teaching.
[9] Includes teaching.
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socialattractionuk · 5 years
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What is soft-ghosting and is it any better than your standard disappearing act?
Are you ready for soft-ghosting? (Picture: getty/metro.co.uk)
Red alert, singles: There’s yet another dating trend for you to learn.
Soft-ghosting is the new term for misery-induing behaviour, describing yet another way for someone to reject you.
It’s the creation of the people over at Bumble. The term, we mean. The dating app isn’t responsible for this awful act.
Basically it’s a lot like normal ghosting – when someone you’re chatting to disappears without a trace – but rather than entirely vanishing into thin air, the object of your affection just likes your message.
Yep, rather than responding to your messages, a soft-ghoster just ‘likes’ whatever you sent.
It’s ‘soft’ because it’s not as sudden a departure as your usual ghosting… but that doesn’t make it any better.
While with a ghosting, you’ll figure out pretty quickly what’s going on, a soft-ghosting seems eternally baffling. Did this person mean to hit the heart on your message? Are they planning to respond any further? Did your message not invite further conversation?
And then you’re struck by the horrible to urge to message them again, perhaps with a direct question so a ‘like’ simply wouldn’t make sense.
Either they like it again or they do a full ghost. Either option comes with a nice serving of embarrassment.
A soft-ghoster is often trying to be polite (Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)
Soft-ghosting appears to be an attempt at politeness, from someone who can’t really be bothered to continue the chat but doesn’t want to appear blunt by leaving the conversation entirely. But it’s actually pretty rude – a heart or a smiley face or whatever other one-tap reaction to a message isn’t adequate engagement. Can’t this person be bothered to just type out a message?
It’s important, however, to make sure you’re dealing with a genuine soft-ghosting.
If your message doesn’t really invite a response, that might explain the lack of one. Give the possible soft-ghoster some time to start the conversation up again. A day should work.
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Then, if you’re really keen on this person, swallow your pride and double text – this time making sure to include a direct question that requires a response. If the conversation picks right back up and flows with ease, you’re all sorted. If the person just ignores your communication, they were clearly warming up to a full-on ghost. If they respond but the conversation still feels half-hearted, ditch it – they’re clearly just trying to be ‘nice’.
Glamour also recommends giving your match a ‘clear call to action’, giving them a specific invitation to a meeting to assess their seriousness. Again, if there’s no response, move swiftly on. If it’s a half-hearted one, they’re clearly not that keen. But if they’re immediately eager, maybe they’ve just been struggling to keep the banter going. Easily done.
Just remember above all that anyone who makes you feel rejected and confused likely isn’t worth your time.
If someone really fancies and respects you, they’ll be clear in their approach and won’t waste time playing games or faffing about with the whole ‘who should message first’ question.
Leave soft-ghosters in the bin, along with stashers, submariners, and firedoor-ers.
Dating terms and trends, defined
Breadcrumbing: Leaving ‘breadcrumbs’ of interest – random noncommittal messages and notifications that seem to lead on forever, but don’t actually end up taking you anywhere worthwhile Breadcrumbing is all about piquing someone’s interest without the payoff of a date or a relationship.
Caspering: Being a friendly ghost - meaning yes, you ghost, but you offer an explanation beforehand. Caspering is all about being a nice human being with common decency. A novel idea.
Catfish: Someone who uses a fake identity to lure dates online.
Clearing: Clearing season happens in January. It’s when we’re so miserable thanks to Christmas being over, the cold weather, and general seasonal dreariness, that we will hook up with anyone just so we don’t feel completely unattractive. You might bang an ex, or give that creepy guy who you don’t really fancy a chance, or put up with truly awful sex just so you can feel human touch. It’s a tough time. Stay strong.
Cloutlighting: Cloutlighting is the combo of gaslighting and chasing social media clout. Someone will bait the person they’re dating on camera with the intention of getting them upset or angry, or making them look stupid, then share the video for everyone to laugh at.
Cuffing season: The chilly autumn and winter months when you are struck by a desire to be coupled up, or cuffed.
Firedooring: Being firedoored is when the access is entirely on one side, so you're always waiting for them to call or text and your efforts are shot down.
Fishing: When someone will send out messages to a bunch of people to see who’d be interested in hooking up, wait to see who responds, then take their pick of who they want to get with. It’s called fishing because the fisher loads up on bait, waits for one fish to bite, then ignores all the others.
Flashpanner: Someone who’s addicted to that warm, fuzzy, and exciting start bit of a relationship, but can’t handle the hard bits that might come after – such as having to make a firm commitment, or meeting their parents, or posting an Instagram photo with them captioned as ‘this one’.
Freckling: Freckling is when someone pops into your dating life when the weather’s nice… and then vanishes once it’s a little chillier.
Gatsbying: To post a video, picture or selfie to public social media purely for a love interest to see it.
Ghosting: Cutting off all communication without explanation.
Grande-ing: Being grateful, rather than resentful, for your exes, just like Ariana Grande.
Hatfishing: When someone who looks better when wearing a hat has pics on their dating profile that exclusively show them wearing hats.
Kittenfishing: Using images that are of you, but are flattering to a point that it might be deceptive. So using really old or heavily edited photos, for example. Kittenfishes can also wildly exaggerate their height, age, interests, or accomplishments.
Lovebombing: Showering someone with attention, gifts, gestures of affection, and promises for your future relationship, only to distract them from your not-so-great bits. In extreme cases this can form the basis for an abusive relationship.
Microcheating: Cheating without physically crossing the line. So stuff like emotional cheating, sexting, confiding in someone other than your partner, that sort of thing.
Mountaineering: Reaching for people who might be out of your league, or reaching for the absolute top of the mountain.
Obligaswiping: The act of endlessly swiping on dating apps and flirt-chatting away with no legitimate intention of meeting up, so you can tell yourself you're doing *something* to put yourself out there.
Orbiting: The act of watching someone's Instagram stories or liking their tweets or generally staying in their 'orbit' after a breakup.
Paperclipping: When someone sporadically pops up to remind you of their existence, to prevent you from ever fully moving on.
Preating: Pre-cheating - laying the groundwork and putting out feelers for cheating, by sending flirty messages or getting closer to a work crush.
Prowling: Going hot and cold when it comes to expressing romantic interest.
R-bombing: Not responding to your messages but reading them all, so you see the 'delivered' and 'read' signs and feel like throwing your phone across the room.
Scroogeing: Dumping someone right before Christmas so you don't have to buy them a present.
Shadowing: Posing with a hot friend in all your dating app photos, knowing people will assume you're the attractive one and will be too polite to ask.
Shaveducking: Feeling deeply confused over whether you're really attracted to a person or if they just have great facial hair.
Sneating:When you go on dates just for a free meal.
Stashing: The act of hiding someone you're dating from your friends, family, and social media.
Submarineing: When someone ghosts, then suddenly returns and acts like nothing happened.
V-lationshipping:When someone you used to date reappears just around Valentine's Day, usually out of loneliness and desperation.
You-turning: Falling head over heels for someone, only to suddenly change your mind and dip.
Zombieing: Ghosting then returning from the dead. Different from submarineing because at least a zombie will acknowledge their distance.
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