(no subject)
Edward Whetstone
Rhet 1101 CV
The Storied History of Ed Whetstone’s Academic Mind
According to the “PLSI” test, my learning style is “Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Perceiving”. According to Introduction to Type in College, we I--P folks are supposed to have multifarious interests, never quite settling on one. We’re creative yet tend to delay actions and decisions, preferring to keep our options open. The middle portion, the -NT-, is supposed to be indicative of people who are intuitive thinkers, relying on personal intuition and structured logic to solve problems. This is definitely me. Practically to a T, the INTP style matches who I am. If you’ll take a trip with me back in time, through my dark and murky academic past, maybe the reasons for my introverted-intuitive-thinking-percieverness will come into focus. So come along…
I hated learning to read. My parents taught me from a dusty old tome called “the home primer”, which I’m sure dates back to at least the Cretaceous era. The pages were yellowed and the book had a faint odor of mildew that seemed to burn your eyes. Or maybe that was just the tiny print. It was by turns frustrating and tiresome, but very occasionally, when I got it right, it was exhilarating. It was one of the most arduous experiences of my life, but once I was through, I was hooked. Books became an integral part of my life, and they still are. No matter how hectic things get, I carry a book with me to help me through. I had discovered a love of reading, and at the same time, I discovered another great love: learning.
Kindergarten was a magical and wonderful place, where apparently learning was the main focus. We spent our time learning to count, learning the alphabet, even learning to pretend. The world started to make a little bit more sense, and with that realization came a sense of wonder that I hope to keep with me my entire life. Those early days were the best and most influential of my academic life. It was there that I was told that I could be anything I want. The sky wasn’t even a limit, since I could be an astronaut if I worked hard enough at it. The concept of being anything, doing anything, has been the guiding philosophy of my life. My early teachers were more like mentors. They supported me in every direction I chose to run. Then, in the second grade, something terrible and wonderful happened. I packed up my world and moved to Jakarta Indonesia.
Suddenly I was in a country whose culture and language were alien to me. I was lucky enough to go to an international school, where you couldn’t walk five minutes without hearing five different languages. It was a huge shock, and for a while I thought it was hellish. I could feel the way the locals resented our presence. It was alienating and exciting at the same time to live in such a new place. School in Jakarta was unique. The atmosphere was open, the educational style not directed towards any particular nationality or set of beliefs. It was once again the “sky is the limit” philosophy. My teachers were open and caring, and they encouraged me in any pursuit I might have. I believe the “N” part of my learning personality developed here. At the nexus of so many cultures, beliefs and philosophies, I learned to rely on my intuition, and to look forward to the future. One thing in particular has stuck with me from my years in Jakarta. In the Bahasa Indonesia language, there are two words for “no”. One is simply no, tidak. The other is belum, which means “not yet” or "maybe", while saying that there's a possibility. The Indonesian optimist responds to most questions with belum. I’ve tried to follow the philosophy of belum. Am I a millionaire? Belum. Am I a genius? Belum. Am I an astronaut? Belum. Do I have a girlfriend? Well, belum.
The greatest challenge of my academic life came with my return to the States. The experience overseas changed who I was, and I was eager to continue being the new person I’d become. Middle school did everything it could to change me right back. For the first time in my life, I had teachers who quite literally hated me. I had teachers who were more than willing to hold me back and tell me that there was only one right way to do things. There were many times that I came home from school on the brink of tears with rage and frustration filling me head to toe. It was a bad time for me. This is where the introversion came in. I withdrew into myself. I certainly wasn’t born this way. When I was four, I was particularly fond of telling complete strangers that I knew everything. For a while in middle school, I almost lost all semblance of myself. I wasn’t ready to give in, though. I learned to adapt. If the teachers weren’t going to help me, I’d learn to help myself. I became self-efficient and admittedly withdrawn. After middle school came the ninth grade campus: part Nazi prison camp, part school. I coasted through it, learning for myself and hiding from the teachers. The high school campus was quite another thing.
Once again, I was at a school where the reigning philosophy was one of openness. No more locked doors and roaming hall-monitors. I was free to be myself again academically, but the methods with which I’d survived middle school stayed with me. I was still introverted, still intuitive, but here I learned to be a thinker. For most of my life, I’d based my decisions on how I felt about something, which was part of why I was so angry about my teachers in middle school. Now I started seeing how I could detach myself from the feelings, to decide in a logical way. I’m not sure what prompted this development. Maybe it was my growing love of computers, which work in such a logical way. Methodology is the only way to fix them, too, and since they seemed to break around me, it was important that I learn the method. High school was also where I had my most influential teachers, the GT (Gifted and Talented) English teachers. They demanded excellence and truly loved their subjects. Not only that, but they were mentors for life. Especially in the senior year. Ms. Julian was more than a teacher, she was a genuine person who cared about her students. Most of all, she believed in potential and unstintingly supported her students. The three GT English teachers (one for each grade) taught me what teaching can and should be.
So now I’m in the big University. According to the test, people with I--P tend to not know what they want to do. I will admit that I am so afflicted. However, the book also says that we delay the decisions we make, never sure what we want to do “when we grow up”. I’m not like that. I’ve decided exactly what I want to do. I’m going to do professional photography, software engineering, animation, computer hardware design, music composition, Artificial Intelligence research, game design, screenwriting, directing, web design, philosophy, acting, novel writing, and everything else I possibly can.
I suppose it’s the curse and the blessing of people like me, with the INTP learning style. We’re introverted and have open minds. We’re intuitive, yet we love logic and form. Many things interest us, and we want to do many things. So far, I’ve tried to find careers that include as many different angles as I can. Arts and Technology seems like a good place to start. It has the artistic side for my intuitive nature, and the programming side for the thinker in me. The arts and technology careers, like game design or digital cinema can incorporate technology, art, music, even philosophy, and a person capable of seeing the big picture, as an “N”-type does, can be an asset. Then again, who knows what tomorrow will bring? It’s always possible that the perceiver side of my learning style will discover some new path to embark on. Will I ever be able to do everything I want to in life? Will I be who I want to be when I grow up? Belum.
Rhet 1101 CV
The Storied History of Ed Whetstone’s Academic Mind
According to the “PLSI” test, my learning style is “Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Perceiving”. According to Introduction to Type in College, we I--P folks are supposed to have multifarious interests, never quite settling on one. We’re creative yet tend to delay actions and decisions, preferring to keep our options open. The middle portion, the -NT-, is supposed to be indicative of people who are intuitive thinkers, relying on personal intuition and structured logic to solve problems. This is definitely me. Practically to a T, the INTP style matches who I am. If you’ll take a trip with me back in time, through my dark and murky academic past, maybe the reasons for my introverted-intuitive-thinking-percieverness will come into focus. So come along…
I hated learning to read. My parents taught me from a dusty old tome called “the home primer”, which I’m sure dates back to at least the Cretaceous era. The pages were yellowed and the book had a faint odor of mildew that seemed to burn your eyes. Or maybe that was just the tiny print. It was by turns frustrating and tiresome, but very occasionally, when I got it right, it was exhilarating. It was one of the most arduous experiences of my life, but once I was through, I was hooked. Books became an integral part of my life, and they still are. No matter how hectic things get, I carry a book with me to help me through. I had discovered a love of reading, and at the same time, I discovered another great love: learning.
Kindergarten was a magical and wonderful place, where apparently learning was the main focus. We spent our time learning to count, learning the alphabet, even learning to pretend. The world started to make a little bit more sense, and with that realization came a sense of wonder that I hope to keep with me my entire life. Those early days were the best and most influential of my academic life. It was there that I was told that I could be anything I want. The sky wasn’t even a limit, since I could be an astronaut if I worked hard enough at it. The concept of being anything, doing anything, has been the guiding philosophy of my life. My early teachers were more like mentors. They supported me in every direction I chose to run. Then, in the second grade, something terrible and wonderful happened. I packed up my world and moved to Jakarta Indonesia.
Suddenly I was in a country whose culture and language were alien to me. I was lucky enough to go to an international school, where you couldn’t walk five minutes without hearing five different languages. It was a huge shock, and for a while I thought it was hellish. I could feel the way the locals resented our presence. It was alienating and exciting at the same time to live in such a new place. School in Jakarta was unique. The atmosphere was open, the educational style not directed towards any particular nationality or set of beliefs. It was once again the “sky is the limit” philosophy. My teachers were open and caring, and they encouraged me in any pursuit I might have. I believe the “N” part of my learning personality developed here. At the nexus of so many cultures, beliefs and philosophies, I learned to rely on my intuition, and to look forward to the future. One thing in particular has stuck with me from my years in Jakarta. In the Bahasa Indonesia language, there are two words for “no”. One is simply no, tidak. The other is belum, which means “not yet” or "maybe", while saying that there's a possibility. The Indonesian optimist responds to most questions with belum. I’ve tried to follow the philosophy of belum. Am I a millionaire? Belum. Am I a genius? Belum. Am I an astronaut? Belum. Do I have a girlfriend? Well, belum.
The greatest challenge of my academic life came with my return to the States. The experience overseas changed who I was, and I was eager to continue being the new person I’d become. Middle school did everything it could to change me right back. For the first time in my life, I had teachers who quite literally hated me. I had teachers who were more than willing to hold me back and tell me that there was only one right way to do things. There were many times that I came home from school on the brink of tears with rage and frustration filling me head to toe. It was a bad time for me. This is where the introversion came in. I withdrew into myself. I certainly wasn’t born this way. When I was four, I was particularly fond of telling complete strangers that I knew everything. For a while in middle school, I almost lost all semblance of myself. I wasn’t ready to give in, though. I learned to adapt. If the teachers weren’t going to help me, I’d learn to help myself. I became self-efficient and admittedly withdrawn. After middle school came the ninth grade campus: part Nazi prison camp, part school. I coasted through it, learning for myself and hiding from the teachers. The high school campus was quite another thing.
Once again, I was at a school where the reigning philosophy was one of openness. No more locked doors and roaming hall-monitors. I was free to be myself again academically, but the methods with which I’d survived middle school stayed with me. I was still introverted, still intuitive, but here I learned to be a thinker. For most of my life, I’d based my decisions on how I felt about something, which was part of why I was so angry about my teachers in middle school. Now I started seeing how I could detach myself from the feelings, to decide in a logical way. I’m not sure what prompted this development. Maybe it was my growing love of computers, which work in such a logical way. Methodology is the only way to fix them, too, and since they seemed to break around me, it was important that I learn the method. High school was also where I had my most influential teachers, the GT (Gifted and Talented) English teachers. They demanded excellence and truly loved their subjects. Not only that, but they were mentors for life. Especially in the senior year. Ms. Julian was more than a teacher, she was a genuine person who cared about her students. Most of all, she believed in potential and unstintingly supported her students. The three GT English teachers (one for each grade) taught me what teaching can and should be.
So now I’m in the big University. According to the test, people with I--P tend to not know what they want to do. I will admit that I am so afflicted. However, the book also says that we delay the decisions we make, never sure what we want to do “when we grow up”. I’m not like that. I’ve decided exactly what I want to do. I’m going to do professional photography, software engineering, animation, computer hardware design, music composition, Artificial Intelligence research, game design, screenwriting, directing, web design, philosophy, acting, novel writing, and everything else I possibly can.
I suppose it’s the curse and the blessing of people like me, with the INTP learning style. We’re introverted and have open minds. We’re intuitive, yet we love logic and form. Many things interest us, and we want to do many things. So far, I’ve tried to find careers that include as many different angles as I can. Arts and Technology seems like a good place to start. It has the artistic side for my intuitive nature, and the programming side for the thinker in me. The arts and technology careers, like game design or digital cinema can incorporate technology, art, music, even philosophy, and a person capable of seeing the big picture, as an “N”-type does, can be an asset. Then again, who knows what tomorrow will bring? It’s always possible that the perceiver side of my learning style will discover some new path to embark on. Will I ever be able to do everything I want to in life? Will I be who I want to be when I grow up? Belum.