Table of Contents Economic Policy Causes and Consequences of the Subprime Crisis Brendan Dowling 11

Gilbert, Sandra M. and Gubar, Susan.  “The Madwoman in the Attic.”  The Norton Anthology

Chalk glazes my vision.

little light is able to pierce through

The hole of my pupil.

Itchy.

Irritated.

Who cleanses my lookers

To see all that is real,

And all that I imagine.

Dammit, I forgot to put them in this morning.

Again!
What is she writing up there?

Why did she chuckle at the board?

F of X doesn’t tell jokes.

F only tauns X.

Tells X that he must be what F wants him to be.

Tells X to think what F wants him to think.

That you are nothing.

Nothing without me.

Nothing with purpose as X stands alone

Blowing away in the wind like

Dandelions that endlessly separate into single particles

Of lent.

X has no brain.

And neither do I anymore.
It ran away.

It didn’t jog away slowly so I could jog alongside it

Able to hold its hand.

Able to taste the tears of anxiety running down it.

It didn’t jog away slowly so I could catch it.

Or even feel its presence next to mine.

Numb.

It ran away from me once I entered class

What are we even learning?

F and X are starting to look like the darkness that fills my empty skull

That was once filled with life,

Is now vacant.
Rivers of glitter watered the skyline of grass

That lined the inside of my skull

Keeping my dreams breathing a fresh dose of oxygen

With every breath my heart took.

Tiny,

Of my dream world

Even though physically,

I sat with cracked eyes in the center of the room

In a daze between notes

And my doodles.

My diary between the lines of trig

Cast upon the pages.

Through my skull

Leaving room for the butterflies

That I feel in my tummy when I fly

Extending my arm into someones heart.

I want to feel hearts beat rhythmically paired with my own

Of rainbows and joy.

So I dream it.

I miss a brain,

But I am a blank heart

With powdery edges that come to shape point.

The walls of my heart extend to the world

So that I may write my diary in the air.

I close my eyes missing more of the lesson

Of why X must always be a composition with in F.
But why bother.

It is more important to know,

Believe,

And understand why I am a composition of you.

I realize that my skull has woven my bad into my good

In order to make sense of my composition.

Hatred pierces through the sky of my dreams

Like a fresh flu shot needle.

No longer can the clouds depend on Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwiches to stay in the sky.

Like my 15 pound head on my neck.

Dangling.

Dripping from my body like the blood of those who look like me.

It is foreign to think of hope shaped as a weapon

That may some day end the writing of my diary

-Math notes.
There goes that symbol.

I wonder what that means.

Boy are they heavy.

Bricks upon my face.

My pencil runs off the page.

It is nice inside my skull’s fresh scent of

Blossoming flowers in the spring.
Holiday Heart
Mya Peters
Holiday Heart is a movie that was released in 2000 about a drag queen, Holiday, who takes in a drug addict mother, Wanda Dean, and her 12-year-old daughter, Niki Dean, off the streets (West, 2000). Holiday lets the two live with him for a year. During that time period, Holiday and Niki try to help Wanda stay clean, but their attempts fail. With no father figure around, Holiday and Silas, a drug dealer and pimp Wanda befriended, raise Niki when Wanda is absent from Niki’s life because she is struggling with her drug addiction. With the circumstances that Niki has been placed in she is demonstrates some of the characteristics of a child with a neglectful parent. As Niki ages through puberty, she encounters some of the challenges that come with menarche, such as being sexualized by older males. Niki’s cognitive development also gets her in trouble with Holiday as he is trying to help her not follow in her mother’s foot steps.

Throughout the movie, it is clear that Niki is the daughter of a neglectful parent. Being a neglectful parent is a parenting style that often times parents who are struggling with their own personal issues elicit (Steinberg, 2013). Neglectful parents often time make themselves the center of the relationship between themselves and their child (Steinberg, 2013). These type of parents do not have standards for their children and rarely respond to the needs of their children (Steinberg, 2013). Sadly, this is not the best parenting style to prompt optimal and healthy development in the children of neglectful parents. As a result, children of neglectful parents tend to be impulsive, socially withdrawn, are at a higher risk for substance abuse, early sexual behaviors, and depression. These children are also typically parenting or taking care of their parents instead of it being the other way around (Steinberg, 2013). In the movie, Niki often time hugs Wanda when she sees that Wanda is struggling with her addiction (West, 2000). These hugs are preceded by no words, only Niki standing in front of her mother with a disappointed facial expression. After Holiday and Niki helped Wanda get clean through religious activities, Niki catches Wanda smuggling drugs from behind their church while service was in session. Niki hugs Wanda tightly while Wanda explains that she is okay, then states that she is scared (West, 2000). This scene demonstrates how Wanda’s neglectful parenting style has impacted Niki because it shows Niki attending to her mom’s needs.

Niki is essentially the backbone for her mother. Niki does not show how she feels to her mother. She holds everything she is feeling inside in order to keep her mother from feeling bad. This portrayal of Niki shows adolescents and adults that adolescents are strong mentally because they can hold in their emotions. (Holding in your emotions is not a positive attribute all the time.) Niki is a resilient child. Despite her circumstances she is a straight A student. With Niki’s academic accomplishments coupled with her strong persona, viewers of this movie may be led to think that having an indifferent parent is not so bad when it comes to child development. This is inaccurate compared to the findings of research. Typically, children who have neglectful parents perform poorly in school (Steinberg, 2013). Research also suggests that children of single parent households, where the mother is neglectful or unstable, have high risks for behavioral problems, poor psychological outcomes (East, 2006). For the most part, Niki is an exception to the rule as a child who demonstrates resilience in overcoming her circumstances, but this can give viewers the wrong idea for adolescents in general.

At the start of the movie, Niki is only 12 years old. Girls typically reach menarche between the ages of 10 and 16.5 years-old (Steinberg, 2013). Niki had her first cycle at the age of 12 while her mom was away, so Holiday and Silas helped her with this transition as best as they could. Research has shown that girls do struggle with transitioning into puberty, but those girls who have mother to help them through this stage of life tend to remember having more positive experiences with puberty (Steinberg, 2013). With Wanda away, Niki does seem to have some negative moments during puberty that her mother could have helped to prevent. Sadly, Niki does face some of the challenges young girls often encounter when their have reached menarche, like being sexualized by older men. At one point in the movie, Niki finds her Wanda prostituting for drugs. A man receiving services from Wanda spots Niki, likes what he sees, and tells Wanda that he will only give her drugs if she tells Niki to sleep with him (West, 2000). From Niki’s facial expression after being told this, she seemed to be disgusted and confused. One of the three reasons why girls have a difficult time transitioning through puberty is because of developmental readiness (Holt, 2016). Girls get more sexual attention from the opposite sex, typically older, due to their body changes. Girls gain larger hips and breasts during puberty. These are often times seen as being attractive to the opposite sex. For Niki, this was a challenge because she often found herself in situations where men wanted her, and not her mom for sex. This created a greater divide between Wanda and Niki.

Adolescents watching Holiday Heart may get the idea that puberty is a rough time period for both the child going through it and their parents. This is an accurate portrayal that the movie presents for viewers according to research. Studies show that from childhood through the middle of puberty, that parent-child conflict increases, especially between the child and their mother (Steinberg, 2013). The emergence of Niki’s adult-woman-like figure could have added to the tension in Wanda and Niki’s relationship creating an increased distance between the two of them.

As children enter adolescence, they gain more advanced cognitive abilities. They are able to think abstractly, have the ability to reason and rationalize better, and more, which allows them to be better arguers (Steinberg, 2013). Niki tries to use these cognitive changes to her advantage when she decides to engage in risky sexual activity. Niki knows that Wanda had her at a young age, but she stills decide to engage in sexual activity. She believes that this will not also happen to her. This is an example of a personal fable, where the adolescent feels that they are special and the consequences that could happen from doing a behavior will not happen to them (Holt, 2016). When Holiday walks in on Niki engaging in sexual activity, Niki tries to rationalize her decision to him and argues that she knows what she is doing (West, 2000). Holiday tells Niki that she is not thinking about the full consequences of her actions and that he does not want her to end up like her mother, Wanda.

An adolescent viewer may watch Holiday Heart and think that adolescents are not capable of making great decisions for themselves. This portrayal is partially true. Adolescents are just as capable to make sound decisions for themselves as adults are (Holt, 2016). Adolescents have the same brain machinery as an adult (Steinberg, 2013). Adolescents and adults both engage in personal fables. The difference is that research shows that adolescents struggle to make emotion driven choices (Casey, 2011). Niki decided to have sex out of emotion. She focused more on the reward she would receive from engaging in that behavior. She failed to consider the consequences of sex.

All in all, Niki did face some challenges during her adolescence with being a child of a neglectful parent, encountering sexualization, and gaining heightened cognitive abilities. Despite her challenges, she is a good example that adults and adolescents can look at to see how resilience can play in the favor of a child who is put in poor situations like Niki. By the end of the movie, Wanda is killed, and Niki says that she is happy that her mother can rest in peace knowing that she, Niki, will be taken care of by Holiday and Silas (West, 2000). This shows that Niki’s circumstances have helped mold her into a selfless young lady. This can be regarded as a positive or negative attribute, but in my opinion, this is a good thing for Niki to be able to do for viewers. It shows adolescents that there is hope for them if they are in situations like Niki.

Casey, B. J., Jones, R. M., Sommerville, L. H. (2011). Braking and accelerating of the adolescent brain. Journal of Research on Adolescence, 21, 21-33.

East, L., Jackson, D., & O’Brien, L., (2006). Father absence and adolescent development: a review of the literature. Journal of Child Health Care, 10, 283-295.

Holt, L. (2016) Personal & Social Responses to Puberty. Personal Collection of Laura Holt, Trinity College, Hartford, CT.

Steinberg, L. (2013). Adolescence (10th Edition). New York: McGraw-Hill Publishers.

West, C. L., & Townsend, R. (2000). Holiday Heart. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Television.

Sarah Beckmann

Who are you?

I confront these questions every day. I’ve learned that your mind and body can do a lot more than you think they can. And I believe you can reach your full potential in life by facing these questions head-on. It takes grit, but most of all it takes grace. Only good can come from these experiences, because if you weren’t sure about the last question, challenge yourself like I do and I think you’ll find an answer.

***

Because I was born to row.

I found a sport that gives me that militaristic feel, that prestigious sense of command and grace and power—raw, physical power—in a way that other sports never did. I fell in love with the culture, the people, the boathouse, the shells, the oars, and the sound of the oarlocks snapping together. I was raised in a town by the sea, but I fell in love with the water all over again, in a new way. I learned how to balance a boat, how to feather the blade, how to make big puddles—and suffer through hand blisters. I learned how to tame the erg machine. And, almost more importantly, I learned how to trust in teammates who would become more like my sisters.

Rowing is not just a sport. It’s a way of life, a way of life for ordinary people who have the choice to become extraordinary. The key step is whether or not they commit themselves to reaching that excellence—if they have the physical strength, as well as the strength of character to make good on that choice for self-betterment.

Rowing will take them there. It’s only a matter of hanging on for the ride.

***

As a thirteen-year-old, I was severely impacted by the death of my grandmother. I am the oldest of her grandchildren, so my grandmother had been a key figure in my childhood. I experienced true grief for the first time. However, I learned how to channel my emotions through a positive outlet: writing. I wrote endless poems about my grandmother, and I still write about her today. While some teenagers use other, more negative alternatives (like drugs and alcohol) to deal with their feelings—adolescence is a dire time of transition—I learned early on how to manage challenges and accept change through my writing. In both my middle and high school graduations, I wrote poems about transitions and coming of age. They reflected my thoughts, but also captured those of my peers as we prepared to step into our new worlds.

My dedication to learning has set a strong foundation for me as I navigate college. Throughout late elementary, middle, and high school, my grades were a number one priority, always above my performance in athletics. I’m really quite the nerd. And with my concurrent background of playing sports, I came athletically inclined to rowing, while also having the skill to balance athletics with academics. But more importantly, my investment in learning allowed me to try new things and pick up a sport like crew; I quickly grasped the mechanics and technique of the stroke, and the ability to row at certain ratings came almost naturally to me—something unique for a walk-on with absolutely no prior experience.

My growing confidence in trying new things became a theme in my life just before entering college. For the first eighteen years of my existence, I had long hair. But soon after graduating high school, I decided to chop it all off—all of it. It was a risk, it was different, but it suited me. I look at the old picture on my ID card and barely recognize myself. I continued on this path of change by signing up for the Quest First Year Orientation Program, where I spent four days hiking on the Appalachian Trail with other freshmen and upperclassmen instructors—something my old self would never have imagined doing.

One of my instructors was on the crew team, and she encouraged me to join. The truth was I had already begun to think about rowing. My father was asked to row in college (he’s 6’4’’ tall; size gives you advantage in crew), but he’d suffered some serious injuries from other sports, so he declined the offer. He told me he regrets that decision today. And that’s why I kept rolling that story over in my head as I debated the opportunities before me.

After getting back on campus for freshmen orientation week, an upperclassman came up to me, gave me an up-and-down look, and asked if I was a rower. I remember being surprised (as well as secretly gratified) by this remark. I told her, no, I was not a rower. But, as opposed to my father’s response, in my head—in my gut—something inside me was saying yes.

In the end, I found the courage to attend the first crew meeting during the fall of my freshman year. But without my increasing abilities to learn, cope with, and voluntarily seek change, I probably wouldn’t have sat in the McCook auditorium that day, feeling excited and somewhat terrified about joining a new sport.

I never looked back from that moment on. Even my body changed in ways I never imagined it could (I gained the freshman fifteen, alright, but instead of fat it was muscle). I was beginning to train my body to become a machine. Yet as I was pushing my body’s limits, I was also testing my mind’s limits—a crucial lesson that I know will guide me as I face other types of boundaries in the future.

***

Rowing is known as a tough sport, but I don’t think people truly realize the levels of adversity that rowers face (that is, unless they try it for themselves). A few quotes from The Boys in the Boat, by Daniel James Brown, outline in more detail the physical hardships rowers must face, and why they must prepare for them:

And what comprises this light, you may ask? Well, it’s difficult to describe in words. People will watch us kill ourselves on the erg, or listen to our complaints about having to get up for a 6 a.m. practice, or stare at the marks on our hands, but what all this suffering amounts to is—is—

Is this: The feeling of putting on that uniform for the first time after a long winter. The feeling of being watched by your parents, friends, and alumni as you carry the weight of a vessel on your shoulder, a vessel powered by pure muscle—your muscle. The feeling of dying on the water and coming back to life and never having felt so, so…alive. It sounds cheesy, but these memories and sensations have value in a way that others do not. Wesley Ng, the head coach of Trinity Women’s Rowing during my freshman year, might describe this notion more accurately, all through the words of an email:

As you improve upon your ergometer fitness numbers remember a couple of reasons why we are doing it—so that we can practice the correct rowing motion more and practice it at a higher intensity. But more importantly, and far more importantly, we are getting fitter, more aggressive, and more proficient so we can earn a moment that happens at the end of the race.

That’s the main reason why I, among others, row. These are things that most people just don’t experience everyday. I see the challenge in rowing as an opportunity for self-betterment, and not self-destruction, though it may seem like that on the outside. It might sound twisted to you, but then again, welcome to the rower’s mindset: it takes a little craziness in order to push yourself beyond the borders of common sense. And yet taking these kinds of risks proves to yield a special kind of reward. For life is full of moments, but the ones we remember most? Well, more often than not, they’re never ordinary.

***

That moment in a race. Not the hallelujah, I-love-rowing-so-much moment I was just talking about. I’m talking about the moment when you really hate rowing—that unbearable instance that stretches on for seconds upon seconds—that moment when you know you’re dying.

We were racing on Lake Quinsigamond in Worcester, Massachusetts, which features a straight course of two thousand meters (the standard distance for spring races). From what I remember, we were in position to win a bronze metal, with Bates and Wesleyan a few seats ahead of us. Our coxswain, Sarah Duffy, a freshman like me at the time—I remember seeing her foot start to tap in front of me. That’s when I knew we were really contending. My legs and lungs were burning, my vision was hazy, but through the last section of that race I’ll never forget Duffy’s voice screaming: “WE HAVE THEM, WE HAVE THEM, WE HAVE THEM!” I’ll never forget how we pushed through that pain using pure willpower—and how, as a crew of mostly walk-ons, we had edged Wesleyan to win silver by a millisecond.

And I’ll always remember looking up at the sky after the race was over, my insides churning like volcanic lava, and simply…breathing. Simply looking at the sun through the shade of my black glasses, and finally knowing that all those hours in the tank room, at the boathouse, on the erg—had not been for nothing. I had dedicated so many months of training for this moment. To win a medal was great, given the low odds of achieving victory in this sport, but somehow not as extraordinary as that feeling I had as I sat in that boat, on that lake, on that sunny spring day.

So here is what I have learned…in a sense, crew races are excruciating and short, kind of like life; I fought through the agony of seven and a half minutes, but I hadn’t given up during that race. Shouldn’t we all be pushing as hard as we can to get the most out of the limited time we have? Who cares if you come in last or first place—it’s all about the experiences we have in getting there, to the finish line. Because once we’re at the finish line, there isn’t much else we can do but look at the sky, wondering when the next race will happen, wondering if we’ll be ready for it…

I know the lessons from this sport will guide me through the trials of the future, a time ahead where I will no longer call the campus in Hartford and the boathouse on the Connecticut River my home.

But I’ll still have those moments, those memories seared in my brain to remind me of who I am and what I can do, and ultimately, to echo this:

Why the fight is worth it.