The Fountain of Salmacis

Posted on May 20, 2013 by willyangelo

Within the North Pacific Gyre there is a collection of plastic debris. Most of this debris is thought to be made up of plastic bottles. The garbage in this gyre floats around in a circular vortex – hence the gyre – and thus remains in a cluster, which is why people call it the Great Pacific garbage patch, or Plastic Island.

Needless to say, this is a problem.

The good news is that Alberta has over 200 bottle depots to which people can take their bottles and have them recycled. Albertans recycle over 500 million containers every year, which is about 80-90 percent of all those containers manufactured and sold.

In Calgary, as of right now, we recycle 20 percent of our waste; in this way we don’t feed landfills and Plastic Island as much as, say, San Antonio, which only recycles about 4 percent of its waste. And the city of Calgary plans on improving that figure to 80 percent by 2020.

Given this city’s and this province’s commitment to recycling, the question must be posed: why aren’t there more schools adopting a bottled water-free policy?

The first university in Alberta to adopt a bottled water-free policy happens to be our very own St. Mary’s University College. That’s right; our little institution tucked away behind Macleod Trail is leading the pack in this area. We have replaced our normal water fountains with these cool new fountains:

Yes, you’re seeing correctly: that’s 11,312 uses, and just from one fountain!

There are several of these on campus – six by my count: three in the Classroom Building, one in the Library, one in the Administration Building, and one in the Lefort Building. They not only quench one’s thirst via the traditional Bubbler Head on the bottom right hand corner of the fountain, but as you can tell from the picture, they serve as a refill station for one’s reusable water bottle.

The point is to minimize everyone’s usage of disposable water bottles and to encourage the usage of reusable bottles, and the fountains themselves, of course. Remember, Plastic Island; it grows by the minute, but here in our little school nestled in the heart of Fish Creek Park we’re trying to do our part to keep the ocean, its fragile ecosystem, and thus the world in general as healthy as possible. Don’t let our size fool ya – we dream big round here.

But perhaps it’s only right that St. Mary’s is the first university in Alberta to take on this initiative. We are located in a provincial park, after all, surrounded by wildlife, so it’s only “natural” that we do what we can to make sure we live in harmony with nature. How many universities can you go to and see deer roaming around the campus grounds?

This should be a lesson to not only the people who work and study at St. Mary’s, but to everybody everywhere: we’re all in it together, humans and non-humans, living and non-living.

So drink from our fountains, not disposable plastic water bottles!

Ain’t that right, Mr. White-Tail?

I’m taking that as a yes.

Heart of Gold

Posted on May 15, 2013 by willyangelo

What does it take to create the ideal learning environment? Perhaps the most key ingredient is the right professor. It doesn’t matter where you are, how big or small the class is, or what the material is; the right professor can make all the difference.

For this very reason, a program like Humanities 101 fits perfectly in a place like St. Mary’s. And I don’t think there’s anyone better suited for the job of spearheading this program than Dr. Hyland-Russell. The extent to which she’s committed herself to the program speaks miles about her passion for her students.

This is the story of what Dr. Hyland-Russell has done for a group of 20 students, people, whose lives she’s changed forever.

She’s done a lot of the dirty work, but the program would not have been possible if she hadn’t had help from all her volunteers, including faculty, students, and alumni, as well as the bubbly Melissa Ferguson, the coordinator of Humanities 101.

This program is something that the entire school realizes is of the utmost importance. It fulfills an essential aspect of the St. Mary’s vision: our commitment to social justice. And I’m proud to say that in order to make this program a reality, the students of St. Mary’s donated all the proceeds from two events, Black and White (hosted by the SLC), and Loose Lips Sink Ships (hosted by The Historical Society) towards supporting Humanities 101. The sum of the proceeds accumulated by the students exceeded over 5,000 dollars, a remarkable feat by any stretch. Good job, guys, I’m proud to call you all my peers.

A snapshot from “Loose Lips Sink Ships”

When I asked Dr. Hyland-Russell about the difference between teaching a Humanities 101 course and a mainstream university course, she said the first job in a Humanities 101 course is to help connect the students with learning.

As we know, the students in this program are not your typical university students. For a lot of them, if it hadn’t been for this program, they might never have sought out a university education for themselves. Therefore, the biggest hurdle to climb is always the first, and that’s to get the students to cope with the university learning environment. Dr. Hyland Russell said you have to get rid of the “fear and anxiety” the students might associate with the university learning environment.

The good news? The students all had a hunger for learning. They were dedicated, and so once that first hurdle was crossed, once the rapport was established, the rest was the fun part.

I had the pleasure of sitting in on one of the discussions for a class. The topic was “Death by Landscape” by Margaret Atwood. I saw first-hand what kind of dedication the students had towards their education. The discussions I heard in that class were more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced in a mainstream university class. They all had a lot to say on the story, and there were never any dull moments.

Dr. Hyland-Russell said that this program has affected her teaching in mainstream classes. She said it’s forced her to question her teaching methods. She’s had to learn to let go of, what she calls, her “professorial authority”. She acknowledged, and I agreed, that wielding too much authority hinders learning. She said, “You have to respect the students enough to connect.” Where is this idea more important than at St. Mary’s?

And this approach works. Just look at the effect it had on her students. They love and respect her.

A lot of people take a university education for granted. For some, it’s just the next step. But for the students of Humanities 101, getting a university education meant the world to them. At the graduation ceremony, a lot of them gleamed with pride that they could now call themselves university graduates. No, it’s not a typical 3- or 4-year degree, but you have to realize how special it is for these students to have received a university education. A lot of them were far removed from the idea of going to university, so entering into this program was like entering into a new world. But they made it out the other side successfully, and that can never be taken away from them.

When I asked a few of the students what they thought about the program, they all expressed gratitude at the opportunity they received.

Vicki Hosick, one of the students, said that she liked that there was a “real sense of caring”. She said the facilitators were all nice to her, and most importantly, she liked that she felt like a person here, rather than just a number.

Another student, Susan Gwynn, liked that the professors are all open here. She said, “Tara [Dr. Hyland-Russell] has made it easy to fit in.”

Student Lillian Parker remarked that she had “never seen a university do this.”

Indeed, this program is a special case, which is exactly why we must keep it. This program has to be one of those staples at St. Mary’s, like English and Psychology. What this program offers for people goes beyond what they learn in the classroom; it’s a life-changer. We have to, have to, have to be able to sustain this program. It mustn’t go away again.

At the graduation ceremony, Dr. Turcotte said Humanities 101 is a big reason why he came back to Canada to be at St. Mary’s. That’s how special this program is. And as I’ve said before, St. Mary’s is the best place to host a program such as this. We have the right professors for the job, the best of the best, like the ones who taught during this Spring course: Dr. Hyland-Russell, Dr. Garrison, Dr. Harvie, Dr. Hopkins, our Latin and Classical meister, Jim Schmit, and my mentor, Eugene Stickland.

The environment at St. Mary’s is perfect for a program like Humanities 101, so we have to make sure that this program is maintained.

Thank you to everybody who helped with the program at any point, and who made Dr. Hyland-Russell’s vision, and her students’ dreams, a reality.

A Change of Seasons

Posted on May 6, 2013 by willyangelo

You smell that? The flower buds are beginning to sprout. Look, the trees are re-animating again. The birds are migrating back north. The bugs are crawling back out from underground. People are back outside running around and frolicking. The circle of life is coming back round its primaveral point again. Ah, new life and new beginnings.

Speaking of new beginnings, welcome to the Spring term at St. Mary’s University College!

That’s right, just when you think it’s over, the game goes into overtime! The time is shortened, and the pacing is extra quick. When earlier in the game you could meander a bit and sort of take your time getting your head into it, now there’s no time for dilly-dallying – you’ve got to take the shot, now!

Oh, Spring term, what can I say about you that hasn’t already been said about Joe Pesci? You’re short, vicious, trigger-happy, and always threatening to bust someone’s kneecaps.

But you can also be fun – it is, after all, spring. How can spring not be fun? I mean, yes, most students are thousands of miles away in Greece or some other exotic locale getting sun-tanned by the beach, but look at it this way: some students are also working . . . in construction.

There’s another benefit to taking spring classes: you won’t be as estranged from school work once the Fall term begins. While everyone else is shaking off their summer rust, you will be in prime condition, ready to go at it again.

So take pride in yourselves, ya bunch of keeners. You are the few, the proud, the Spring-termers. Welcome back to school after your short recess.

Speaking of short, in that way this blog will be like this term: short and sweet. Like a good afternoon nap. Like an early Beatles record. Like the distance from any building on campus to any other. Like this sentence.

Thank you for reading, now go enjoy the springtime sun. And then go do your homework.

taken from http://www.kindgeratentimes.blogspot.com

The Song Goes On

Posted on April 30, 2013 by willyangelo

“Attention seniors. Before the merriment of commencement commences, I hope that your years with us here at Rydell have prepared you for the challenges you face. Who knows? Among you there may be a future Eleanor Roosevelt or a Rosemary Clooney, and among you young men, there may be a Joe DiMaggio, a President Eisenhower, or a Vice-President Nixon. But always you will have the glorious memories of Rydell High. Rydell forever. Bon voyage.”

- Principle McGee

What’s that? Can anybody else hear “We Go Together” from Grease playing?

With final exams signaling the end of another school year for most of us, and with summer just around the corner, let’s take a look back at this past year at St. Mary’s.

What has your experience of this past year at St. Mary’s been like? Has it been fun? Stressful? Perhaps a mix of both?

Some students are coming back next year, some are leaving to go to other schools, and others are graduating and moving on to the next step in their lives. Hopefully this past year has helped in your development, and hopefully you’ve made memories that will last for a long time to come.

Speaking of memories, let’s take a look back at this past year at St. Mary’s . . .

Thank you for reading, and thanks for the memories this past year. For those returning next year, see you soon. For those who are now treading new paths, live long and prosper. For those taking classes in the Spring term, see you tomorrow.

To Sir, With Love

Posted on April 24, 2013 by willyangelo

How do you thank someone who’s taken you from 5-paragraph essays to 10-page papers? How do you thank someone who puts you through the ringer because he or she knows how rewarding it will be once you come out of it?

Without professors, universities would just be one giant re-enactment of Animal House. That’s tempting . . .

In some places you might still be able to get away with that, but not at St. Mary’s. Yes, we can party as hard as anybody round these parts, but if this week and next week’s final exams will have been any indication, you will have to hunker down and stick your head in those books at some point.

Make no mistake, Dr. Harvie is one of the funniest and – dare I say – coolest professors I’ve ever had, but the man is a tough marker. He expects his students to do their assigned work and readings. I know, what a preposterous idea! Who’d have guessed university might be harder than high school? Although honestly I know some students, like me, perhaps needed a bit of time (and a couple of tries . . .) to adjust. But trust me, you will thank them later.

It’s not all about the books at this place, though, even for the professors. Some also function as tour guides . . .

Dr. Garrison showing students around and repping a St. Mary’s t-shirt.

Or double as make-up artists . . .

Dr. Hyland-Russell doing her best Carmindy impersonation.

Or as bakers . . .

Dr. Clay analysed the chemical composition of all the treats, and found them to be made out of 100% mm-mm-goodness. That’s the medical term.

Some will even sit down and have spot of tea with you . . .

I have a theory that Dr. Duggan is secretly Indian Jones.

Yes, we’ve got some multi-talented profs at this school, but of course, we must never forget why we’re here – to get an education. And to that end, the professors at St. Mary’s are some of the best and brightest you will find anywhere. So don’t worry, you’re in good hands here.

He combed his hair? AND wore a nice tie?! Somebody’s ready for his close-up!

This isn’t Dr. Hopkins, by the way. I managed to travel 30 years forward through time and space and retrieved a photo from the St. Mary’s website of Dr. Harvie. Did I mention that the profs here have great senses of humor?

All joking aside, this one here’s for all the professors I’ve had this year, or ever had at St. Mary’s. Sometimes you are underappreciated by students who don’t like to be challenged, but I want to say thank you for it. Thanks for the tough assignments, the mid-terms and finals, and the lectures. Thanks for letting me speak my mind in class, but also making sure I have solid arguments to back up my analyses. Thanks for letting me come into your offices with my various complaints and frustrations, and for settling every one of them. My assignments would’ve all stunk if there weren’t any doors I could’ve knocked on.

If there’s one thing I’d like you all to remember, it’s to never soften up your expectations. The more you challenged me, the better I’ve become because of it. There’s a fine line you all seem to walk of both toughness and tenderness. I’ve definitely needed both, so thank you all for helping me along in my journey, and in all the journeys of the students you teach.

This may be a small school nestled in the heart of Fish Creek Park, but the education you get here is second-to-none, and the profs here make darn sure of that.

Besides, the hard work you put in as students just makes this moment that much

sweeter . . .

Dr. Henderson, the world’s proudest professor.

And Your Bird Can Sing

Posted on April 18, 2013 by willyangelo

On Monday, April 8^th, 400 guests attended the St. Mary’s University College choir’s spring concert at the St. Mary’s Cathedral. This event was held in participation with two other schools, both of them also called St. Mary’s, so you are forewarned; I will be saying St. Mary’s quite a bit.

I remember getting to the Cathedral that day and the only thing I was worried about was the 30-second solo I had to perform later on. This was the first time I’d ever sung a solo, and it would end up being in front of the biggest crowd in STMU choir concert history.

See, when I’m in the midst of the choir, just one small voice among dozens, I have no problem singing in front of people. I could sing my heart out and still go unnoticed in the wall of sound coming from the entire sum of voices in the choir. But if the spotlight is on me, I choke up as if somebody is squeezing my vocal chords and the sound comes out all strained and shaky. Think of a bad American Idol audition and that’s what I sounded like when I first started practicing my solo in front of the choir. It was really bad. I would sing in the wrong key, or start in the right one and go to a wrong one, or sing too fast or not loud enough.

The key for me was that everybody was supportive. If I had had just one criticism, one bad remark about my voice or how much I stunk at one point, it would have been over for me. My confidence would’ve been shaken and I would never have been able to perform the solo. I’m not usually that fragile, but my voice has always been one of the hardest things for me to gain confidence about, so even a bad look coming my way would’ve destroyed my self-esteem. Thankfully, though, nobody shot me a stink-eye.

There was another thing that spurred me on and helped boost my confidence: at a certain point, almost towards the performance date, I made Malcolm Edwards, our choir director, smile. Anybody who knows Malcolm knows that making him smile sometimes is like trying to break into Fort Knox. The man has high standards. So once that was accomplished, I was ready to take on all comers.

Fast forward to the performance, and there are 400 people sitting in the audience, and as the solo is coming up my legs start shaking and I start tensing up. Oh no, oh no, not good.

And then, silence. Malcolm looks at me, hums my first note, and I’m off. Who did I think about throughout those 30 seconds? – Another lovely member of the choir, Sepidar, and how confident she always is when she sings. I’ve yet to tell her this, but I copied her mannerisms, like the way she looks the audience members in the face, as if to say, “You’re all mine, right in the palm of my hand. I’m going to sing to you and you’re going to like it.” While I did that, my legs were shaking the whole time. But from the waist up, I was as cool as a summer breeze.

Then the choir came back in and we nailed the rest of the performance.

The thing about our choir, what I love about it so much, is that we work on our performance pieces the entire year, and sometimes we’re not as good as we can be, but when it’s time to deliver, we always pull through. Aside from my solo, I wasn’t worried about a thing going into the performance at the St. Mary’s Cathedral. We laid a serious smackdown on all the songs. As did, by the way, the other two choirs that joined us that evening, the St. Mary’s High School choir and the St. Mary’s Elementary School choir. If you haven’t guessed it yet, yes, the theme of the event was “St. Mary’s”.

If we thought our choir was big with 45 members, the elementary school had us beat with 60 members, and the high school dwarfed us with 80 members. This means our choir is still looking to grow and is always seeking new members. No, Malcolm did not pay me to say that, but hopefully that, too, will make him smile.

In total there were 185 of us singing that evening. That was enough to shake the stained-glass windows. I also heard tell that Richard Dawkins heard us, thought it was the voices of angels, and almost became a convert. True story.

The elementary kids, an all-girl choir pretty much, were as cute as buttons, with super-pinch-able cheeks and all the like. One of them kept coughing, and that was also cute . . . although probably not for the sound tech.

The high school kids were very good, too. The guys were all dressed in matching tuxedos, making me in my short-sleeved dress shirt feel horribly under-dressed. Those guys really took “suit-up!” to heart. I envied them. I’ve never worn a tux, but one day I will, and I’ll make sure to say, “The name’s Bond. James Bond.”

For the last three songs we all huddled up on stage and performed together. The elementary school girls brought the cuteness, the high school kids added about 50 decibels to the overall sound, and we brought, well, the swagger.

We ended on perhaps the biggest, most grandiose “amen” that has ever been sung in that cathedral, capping the event in style.

The concert was a monumental success, and although they said it was a one-off, I know a lot of people would love to see a second incarnation, a reunion of the three St. Mary’s schools, like the Power Rangers all joining together into one giant super awesome fighting machine. Go-go St. Mary’s!

Castles Made Out Of Sand

Posted on April 1, 2013 by willyangelo

I’m pushing a person in a wheelchair down the hall. She asks me where we’re going. I tell her we’re going to play Bingo. She replies oh, ok. I like Bingo. I continue pushing her down the hall. A few more steps and she asks me where we’re going. I pause. What did they tell me? A lot of the residents here have dementia, including Alzheimer’s. I’ve never encountered a person with Alzheimer’s. I tell her we’re going to play Bingo. She replies oh, ok. I like Bingo.

I look at this person as I push her down the hall. What am I doing? I don’t know, but I find her fascinating. Is it improper to stare at a person because you’re fascinated by them? Should I not look at her and pretend as if I’m unfazed by her disease? Where are we going? Where are you taking me? There she goes again! How can she forget so quickly? I tell her we’re going to play Bingo. She replies oh, ok. I like Bingo.

Incredible.

I keep looking at her as I push her down the hallway. My words appear to fall flat on the ground. I get it now. It’s not that she forgets; it’s that she doesn’t even retain.

She continues to ask me where I’m taking her, and I reply the same as before. She’s nervous and fidgeting in her wheelchair. Her fingers caress each other; she looks around in trepidation. Does she recognize anything?

A nurse passes by and addresses her by name. She doesn’t respond back. Might as well be a stranger.

We get to the Bingo hall and at once I sense that she realizes where she is. She is no longer fidgety, and now relaxes in her wheelchair. Not only that, but she tells me where she wants to sit. I always sit there, she tells me. It’s amazing how the mind works. We think playing Bingo is wasteful and boring, but for one person at least it can be something as powerful as restoring not only their sense of familiarity, but their sense of self identity.

After Bingo is over, I go over to her again to take her back to her room. I want to go home, she tells me. Home. Does she mean her room? Or is she referring to a certain memory?

I ask her if she knows where she lives. She doesn’t respond. I don’t know where she lives. I picked her up from the sun room. I’m just going to take her back to the sun room.

I push her down the hall and she says she wants to go home. I ask her if she knows where she lives. She doesn’t respond. I continue pushing her down the hall.

Right before the sun room there’s a fork going left and right. I figure I’m just taking her to the sun room but then she extends her hand to the left. Does she actually know where she lives? I then veer to the left. We pass by several rooms. I slow down at each one and see if she can tell whether or not it’s hers. She makes no motions.

We pass by a room near the end of the hall and she reaches out and grabs the door frame. I immediately stop. This must be it. Amazing! This is the same woman who before might as well have been in a foreign land surrounded by strangers. Did Bingo do this? Is Bingo responsible for bringing her memory back? Or was it there all along, latent?

I leave her in her room and go back to the Bingo room to bring back another resident.

This is an experience I had at the Father Lacombe Care Centre. Thanks to Nancy Quan I had the opportunity to volunteer there this past year. We are right next door to this place, and yet I wonder how many of us have ever gone down there to see what it’s like.

The residents at the FLCC all need special attention to help them get through everyday life, and some need more help than others. I volunteer every other Friday and play Bingo with the residents. It’s literally the very least I can do. I spend a relatively small amount of time with these residents, and yet I feel like I know some of them very intimately, even if they may not have a clue as to who I am. Some residents can barely move, but it’s those whom I feel perhaps have the most to say.

With some of the residents, looking into their eyes is like looking into the eyes of a child. There is innocence and wonder, as if the world is completely new to them. With others, there is an extreme agedness in their eyes, as if they’ve lived too long and seen too much. Some are jokesters, and some are stoic. Some are talkative, others are quiet. Some even just talk to themselves. Some like to tell stories. Some are infinitely patient, others don’t like to be kept waiting. Some laugh every time they land a number. Some fall asleep and wake up every time a number is called. Some are so excited when they win they almost fall out of their wheelchairs.

Once a family came to visit a relative. Among them was a small child; couldn’t have been more than five years old. While playing Bingo, the child came up to one of the residents, and upon noticing this child, the resident lit up like I’ve never seen. The resident, Francisco, began laughing, then hugged the child and patted him on the head. This was one of the residents who had trouble moving, but the sight of a child brought life to his limbs. I guess sometimes it’s the smallest things that can have the biggest impact.

What do I know about the impact I have on these people? Nothing. As far as I know, some of the residents might not notice I’m there at all, but it’s the impact they have on me that makes all the difference. I can’t speak for all the students who volunteer their time at the FLCC, but I know that for me it’s been one of the most rewarding experiences of the year. Thanks, Nancy, and thanks to all the students who have volunteered this year at the FLCC.

John Marquina, a student at St. Mary’s and a volunteer at The Father Lacombe Care Centre.

St. Mary's University College

A Student Perspective