360 Love, Final Self-Evaluation, and THANK YOU!

In this 360, as in the rest of my life, I have striven to be present. I find that often, I have trouble staying in the moment when I know that there are things coming up that I will have to do that are making me stressed, or when I feel impatient waiting for the next thing to happen. For every minute that I let my mind wander, it’s a minute that I’m focused on something other than the task or conversation at hand, which, while in class or other participatory activities, is generally a negative thing. In this cluster of classes, I have struggled with my presence, because while I want to remain in the mindset where I can focus on what’s going on around me at any given moment, I also don’t want my presence to impede on anyone else’s, especially as it relates to speaking in class.

            In each class, at the beginning of the semester, I spoke up when I had a comment going through my head that seemed relevant. I listened to other people, for sure, but I was also very concerned with how I was representing myself, and so I felt the need to be talking often, to establish to people that I was thoughtful, smart, funny, kind, progressive, likeable. I sometimes felt as though I said something I didn’t mean, or that didn’t come out exactly as I wanted it to, and so I would want to speak again to clarify. As we continued practicing silence in Anne’s class, though, I thought about how it might be beneficial, both for my own learning and that of my classmates, for me to quiet down a little, listen more to what others were saying, and focus less on making my own voice heard. So, for a while, I tried this just in Anne’s class. I was relieved when we did our first fishbowl exercise, because I wasn’t called into the center at the start, and didn’t have to put myself in until the very end­–it was good practice for me to just sit outside of the conversation and listen very actively to what others were saying. Next, I brought it to Jody’s class. We were in a space of bringing up a lot of anecdotes and personal stories, and I felt like I had more to learn from anyone else than they did from me. Part of this stems from my low sense of self-esteem, that I don’t think I’m very interesting or that I can add much to group discussions (which I discussed with Jody in our first conference). Part of me was just grateful to be in such an open environment, and I didn’t want to spend much time speaking, since I would have rather heard what other people had to say, who might have had more experience with or better insight into the kinds of injustices that we were discussing. Things really came to a head when, in the lunch that Barb organized before her class, I actively wanted to remain silent until I was called on as one of the people who, by the end of the discussion, had not spoken. I remember being terrified in expressing my frustration about Posse seeming a little exclusionary within our class, and about being unsure what people thought about me. I selfishly wanted to be more like Chandrea, having other people want to hear my voice while I refrained from speaking, instead of speaking too much.

            Soon, I realized that neither approach was going to make people like me or help any of us learn. So instead, I tried to temper the amount I spoke, to once in each class (maybe two or three times in Barb’s, since we only met once a week). After a few weeks of foolishly trying to hold on to this self-imposed rule in every situation, I just started trying to be the most active listener possible, while also speaking up when I had something (hopefully) significant to say. In large group conversations, this was still about once or twice a class, but when it came to smaller groups, I felt freer to talk a little more, while still listening intently. In these small groups, I really got to know people better, and I think they got to know me better. Through these smaller conversations, both in and out of classes, several of my classmates have astutely picked up on my insecurities. To paraphrase, I’ve heard that “it seems like you don’t think you have something valuable to say, but you do,” at least once or twice. Hearing that from classmates who I was concerned disliked me or thought I was a privileged jerk made me more comfortable in voicing my thoughts, albeit still a little hesitantly.

            In our group dynamics, both in class and online, I’ve tried my best to validate others the way that several people did for me, by telling them that what they’ve said is worthwhile and interesting. I don’t presume to have any authority with which to decide what is noteworthy or not, but, as Anne suggested we do in our Serendip readings and responses, I’ve tried to convey that ‘I was here’. I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to do throughout–figure out how, when, and where my presence belongs, and to establish that I am there (here), listening, learning, and working toward understanding.  My aim is generally to make others feel as safe and heard as possible, while also working to carve a niche for myself, where I can comment or remain silent online and in class, as fits the situation.

            I think that my role in the classroom has largely been as a learner from my classmates, with my class work and discussions helping me get a better grasp on the opinions, experiences, and thoughts of my classmates and of the authors whose words we have read. I don’t mean this selfishly, that I was only focused on my own learning experiences and tossed aside those of my classmates, but rather that I wanted to be a sponge in these spaces of learning, soaking up as much as possible. I hope that I was able to help in my classmates’ learning by making them feel safe with me, both in that they trust that I will listen actively to what they have to say, and that I will follow that golden rule, that what’s said here, stays here; what’s learned here, leaves here.

            In terms of the readings for this class, I honestly felt as though I learned much more from the discussion of the texts than from the texts themselves. I was grateful to have background knowledge of theories of learning, struggles with silence, and tales of incarceration and prejudice. But at the same time, I was glad to be able to lean on the insights of my classmates and all three professors, to help enrich my understanding of the texts, and to complicate what the authors had said with theories, struggles, and tales of our own. In that way, I guess my pleasures as a reader in this 360 were really in the discussion, rather than in the solitary reading itself. For Jody’s class, the silent discussions when we brought up important quotes and I was able to focus in more specifically on good points from the authors and agreement or counterarguments from my classmates were really where I found my best understanding of what we were reading, both textually and in “reading” one another. For Anne’s class, I found my best reading practices to be when we had the opportunity to connect them to the greater picture of what we were learning in the 360 as a whole–Lisa Delpit, especially, I felt was a turning point in the class where our framework for understanding every reading that followed it shifted. In Barb’s class, the readings felt totally groundbreaking to me. I’d never known an incarcerated person before going into the Cannery, and I’d had no idea the kind of criminal injustice that really runs through the veins of the justice system. I especially loved “Prisoners of a Hard Life,” because it was very accessible to read and sparked a great discussion, but also because it made a huge impact on how I viewed incarcerated women in general, and helped me see and identify with the profiled women specifically.

            My challenges with the readings for this 360 were that I did worry about accessibility of the texts. Even though I have been very fortunate to have a good foundational education, I have not been able to understand everything that we have read. This felt especially pertinent in Jody and Anne’s classes, where more of our readings were based in theory, which I sometimes have trouble connecting with. In Barb’s class, things were a little more focused on the experiential, which I appreciated. But I think that I grew as a reader through our in-class and online conversations, where I was better able to apply others’ understandings and anecdotes to the theories as they applied and better illustrated the concepts for me. I’ve recognized that I really do need to have both the theoretical and the experiential to best learn material. As Anne probably knows, my reading edges seem to lie in close reading of texts. I find it difficult to focus in on only one section or passage when reading an entire text, because I feel like I am missing out on a broader context, and therefore things that would add meaning. I feel as though each piece of a text contributes to my understanding of the rest of it, and even my reading of separate texts. But, in a conference with Jody, we discussed the idea that maybe I need to be doing closer reading of fewer texts, which is something that I dipped my toes into at the end of this semester, but will have to keep working on as my time at Bryn Mawr and as a learner (which, as I’ve realized, will last forever) continues.

            I tried to make my work in this 360 as collaborative as possible, which translated to my trying to connect my writing with that of my classmates whenever I could. I really enjoyed the weeks for Anne’s class where I wasn’t assigned to do a post of my own, because it gave me the opportunity to read others’ posts and respond to them, instead of trying to come up with something to say on my own. As much as I wish I’d been able to write each of my posts in conversation with those of a classmate, I do recognize that I could have done more responses and fewer “stand-alone” pieces, and that it’s something I want to work on in the future. This is largely due to time­–I try to get things done as early as I can, and so sometimes, it was easier to post something independently on my own time than to wait for someone else to post something that I could comment on. When I posted “stand-alone” pieces, I didn’t always feel like I was getting the feedback or response from my classmates that I really enjoyed, which was why posting in response to an already existing post was generally more gratifying, and something I wish I’d done even more.
            I have worked very hard on my writing in this class, because I’ve worked very hard on my thinking. To clarify, I feel as though, even if my writing style has not dramatically changed, the scope of learning and perspectives that I have to draw on to think about and write on subjects related to what we’ve discussed in class has increased enormously. I’ve put a lot of effort into trying to tie what I’ve learned both from reading and from class discussion into my writing, by really taking the time to think about a topic that I hope to write on before I sit down to do it. I’ve found that talking out what I plan to write is extremely beneficial for me–Hummingbird and I have a great partnership where we can listen to and give feedback on the ideas that we each have for papers, and then read one another’s and make comments or suggestions. I think this has helped improve the quality of my writing, because it gives me a second set of eyes and ears to bounce things off of. I also think that the 360 structure as a whole has helped me to write better, because it allows me to make connections that will be commonly understood among all the students and professors, and deepens my understanding of each class’s focus by giving me extra lenses through which to view it. So in terms of “moving”, I don’t want you to think that I have not gone anywhere because I have not changed the way I write very much, or made revisions to past works. I think I’ve really moved much more in the content of my writing, which I hope is deeper, richer, and more all encompassing than it was at the beginning of the semester.

            Going into the Cannery was uncharted territory for me, as I have mentioned before. I wasn’t really sure how to prepare for what I would see, hear, and experience, so mostly I just wanted to come in with an open mind, to the degree that was possible. Once we had been in there a few times, I prepared myself by trying to forget about what I’d been thinking about in the days prior, both because it helped me to focus on this very unique experience, but also because I had to reconcile my preconceptions of “prison” with what I was seeing in the Cannery. I was particularly struck by the conversation we had about life after prison, that leaving the walls of the Cannery, as we were so eager to do after several hours each Friday, was not necessarily best for women who didn’t have a guaranteed home, income, or access to their families once they were released. This, and other conversations about niches in prison, forced me to shift my perception, to see life inside and out of the walls of an institution in a more nuanced way.

            I didn’t get to know anyone at the Cannery very well, but not for lack of trying. I would say that, especially at the beginning, I tried to push myself out of my comfort zone to initiate conversation with the women, to ask them how they were doing, what they were thinking about the class, etc. But I have trouble keeping a conversation going on my own, and I wasn’t sure what questions were okay to ask, so when it seemed like the woman I was talking to stopped engaging, I generally let it be. I probably should have tried harder, and I feel bad that I didn’t come out of it with a strong relationship built the way some of my classmates did. I tried to critically engage with what I heard from the women when I wrote in my journal, especially in trying to think about how their answers to the self-reflection questions might be similar or different from my own.

            It was easier to talk when we were doing art projects, though, about why someone chose a certain color, pictures we found in magazines, and the like. I think I learned that personally, it makes me feel relaxed and thoughtful to do art in a group setting, especially when I don’t necessarily have to come up with the ideas for the projects on my own. That being said, the time limit was sometimes distracting from the task at hand. But overall, I really appreciated the art creation as a way to take my long thought out reflections from my journal, and try to turn them into visual pieces to share with others. The final products that we and the women at the Cannery made helped me to engage more with our readings and class discussions inside and out of the prison, because, on a very visual level, they were a reminder that who we are and what we think of ourselves is both a personal and a sociological experience, colored by ourselves and our environments.

            I could probably keep writing for another 9 pages, but instead I’ll stop here. I would mostly just like to say thank you to everyone involved in this experience. I am so grateful to have been a part of this group, to have had the opportunity to talk and laugh and sometimes cry about all these weighty topics, and to learn so much about myself and all these people that I’m lucky to call friends. It’s a rare opportunity that comes along when we get the chance to connect with one another in such a way, especially crossing the barbed wire of a prison. I’m a little melancholy that the experience is over, but it’s a chapter of my life that has changed my perspectives, made me more socially conscious, and taught me to look at and listen to the world around me more attentively. Thank you.