Chase Ishii – The Stanford Daily https://stanforddaily.com Breaking news from the Farm since 1892 Tue, 29 May 2012 08:45:37 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.4.3 https://stanforddaily.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/cropped-DailyIcon-CardinalRed.png?w=32 Chase Ishii – The Stanford Daily https://stanforddaily.com 32 32 204779320 Half-Invented: Stare at the sun https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/29/half-invented-stare-at-the-sun/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/29/half-invented-stare-at-the-sun/#respond Tue, 29 May 2012 07:28:40 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1067677 Is having wonder in life necessary for meaning? And if so, why is it so underappreciated?

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Half-Invented: Stare at the sunI recently got to see author Ravi Zacharias speak. I hadn’t ever heard of him before the event, but he sparked my attention during the question-and-answer segment following the talk when he addressed the meaning of life. He posited that there are four necessary components to find meaning in life: truth, love, security and wonder.

If you stood in the middle of White Plaza and tried to ask 100 students on campus where they look to find meaning in life, the nine or 10 students willing to stop and respond would probably include the first three on their list: truth, love and security. But wonder? You may be hard-pressed to find that answer. Is having wonder in life necessary for meaning? And if so, why is it so underappreciated?

I recently restarted watching wrestling. And not Olympic-style, grapple, counter, mat wrestling. I mean chokeslam-through-a-table, steel-chair-to-the-face-of-a-7-foot-300-pound-gimmick, staged professional wrestling. I used to watch it every week growing up, and I dreamt of becoming a professional wrestler one day, despite possessing the size and shape of a meerkat.

I started watching again because of a new straightedge wrestler named CM Punk, and, let me just say, the 10 years between watching as a 10-year-old and watching it now has made a huge difference. I always knew it was fake, but not this fake. If you’ve never experienced the joy and wonder that is professional wrestling, you should stop reading this right now and hop on YouTube. The personalities are flat, the feuds are more scripted than soap operas and the actual wrestling is hit or miss. And by “hit or miss,” I mean whether the person gets a hit or misses, the other guy falls over. It’s incredible.

But twice a week for two hours, stadiums and convention centers are filled with fans cheering, booing and paying to see grown men in tights fake fight. And it’s because of the sense of wonder this fake world holds. Anything can happen. In this world, the good guy doesn’t always win, the rules aren’t always followed and the little guy can sometimes overcome the giant. Even though they are completely aware it is fake, thousands of people every week look to professional wrestling to divorce themselves from their world of mundane routine.

And this is the type of wonder I think Ravi Zacharias was referring to as necessary for finding meaning in life. Not professional wrestling specifically, but a wonder found from seeing the everyday world around us with astonishment, without jaded or dulled hearts. It is the appreciation for things regardless of their inevitability or routine. It is the hope that anything, no matter how small and insignificant, can become great. It is the excitement that anything and everything can happen.

And I think the busy college world is detrimental to this sense of wonder. In order to succeed as a college kid, you need to have your world figured out so you can best take advantage of it. The freedom of time is reduced to hourly calendar spots within a day that must be filled as efficiently as possible. Passions and longings simply become weekly routines of going through the motions. Actions and choices become the habitual cause-and-effect decision that reaps the most effective benefits. Emotions and imagination are dismissed for figures and graphs, and questions of “why?” and “what if?” are replaced by the more pragmatic and explainable “how?” questions. And therein lies the problem.

There was a solar eclipse last week, and everyone gathered with wonder and astonishment to watch, but the wonder seemed to die once the sun was no longer obscured. That seems ironic to me. There’s a giant, flaming ball of gas in the sky that gives us heat and growing plants and delicious Sunny D, and we only find it amazing when something gets in its way?

We need to rethink the way we perceive the world, and it starts with hope and humility. Maybe we haven’t figured out everything there is to know about the things and people and places in front of us. In the words of G.K. Chesterton, “The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.”

 

Have something you’re wondering about? Tell Chase about it at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: Christianity and LGBT: An addendum https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/22/half-invented-christianity-and-lgbt-an-addendum/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/22/half-invented-christianity-and-lgbt-an-addendum/#comments Tue, 22 May 2012 07:28:45 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1067208 Maybe the Christian God is less concerned with etching the line between right and wrong in order to distribute points, and more concerned with rescuing people of all sexual orientations and identities through grace and for goodness.

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Half-Invented: Christianity and LGBT: An addendumLast week I wrote a column titled “Let this be the end. Let all be forgiven.” Toward the end, it briefly touched on the intersection of Christianity and the LGBT community. From what I could tell, it received a good amount of support and a small but impassioned amount of criticism.

Judging by the amount of emails and questions I’ve received in the past week, I felt it appropriate to write an addendum to last week’s article. Especially at a place like Stanford, it can be difficult to vocally express disagreement, especially around the issue of LGBT, for fear of being labeled a bigot. I know there are those who disagreed with what I wrote, often for religious reasons, and those are the people I would like to address.

I first want to apologize to the community that may have felt offended by my broad-strokes language. The goal of the article was to make clear the very real pain and frustration of living in the secrecy of sexual identity and to encourage all people, regardless of how they personally view LGBT issues, to act and respond out of love and compassion. And it’s true that there are many people who disagree with homosexuality who still engage with the community in an unconditionally loving and considerate way. But there are also people who act out of anger and resentment to dishonor others and disguise it as a warped sense of religious or moral love, and those people were the targets of my criticisms.

With that said, I also did not state whether I think, from a Christian perspective, that homosexuality is “right” or “wrong,” primarily because I feel that that is a horrible way to frame the discussion. “Homosexuality is wrong.” What does that even mean? That heterosexuality is right? I can point to a lot of counter-examples in my life alone that would dispute that claim. Maybe the Christian God is less concerned with etching the line between right and wrong in order to distribute points, and more concerned with rescuing people of all sexual orientations and identities through grace and for goodness.

I’ve been accused of distorting Christianity, an accusation to which I would reply, “Ya, you’re probably right.” Every Christian is. I’m not under any false assumption that my word is infallible and that my views may not be incorrect. To be otherwise would distort and reject the fundamental premise and principle of Christianity.

I am confident, however, that Christianity is not defined by the views one may hold in regards to the question of homosexuality. Just because an issue might be influenced by religious views doesn’t mean that it is an issue that constitutes the religion itself.

The Old Testament is riddled with examples of people trying to love and serve God but missing the point because they focus on the secondary rather than the primary. To which I would ask, have we not done the same? Sure, Jesus speaks of sexual immorality, but he also speaks of hypocrisy. Even if it is your personal belief that Jesus was including homosexuality as we understand it today when he spoke against sexual immorality, shouldn’t the first step be to confront the sexual immorality in your own life rather than announcing and condemning it in the lives of others?

Further, “sexual immorality” would also include things like prostitution and human trafficking, and I would assume Jesus would be more outraged with the global systematic rape and enslavement of women and children for economic gain than what the United States legally constitutes as marriage. So maybe we are missing the point.

I’m not trying to dismiss the tension between Christianity and LGBT lifestyles. I’m just trying to put it into perspective. Your opinions are your opinions. But the consequences of your words and actions are not yours alone. Regardless of your personal views, there exists real pain around the issue of sexual identity and orientation, inflicted by society or by one’s self. All people, and Christians especially, need to address this pain, not with their heads, but with their hearts.

 

Tell Chase what’s in your heart at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: Let this be the end. Let all be forgiven. https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/15/half-invented-let-this-be-the-end-let-all-be-forgiven/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/15/half-invented-let-this-be-the-end-let-all-be-forgiven/#comments Tue, 15 May 2012 07:28:54 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1066409 Given how political the conversation has become in the last couple years, it’s easy for those disconnected from the LGBT community to drown in the stats and figures and forget how truly personal and individual the difficulties are.

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Half-Invented: Let this be the end. Let all be forgiven.Last Wednesday, on the same day President Obama gave his personal endorsement of same-sex marriage, an equally shocking tremor ran rampant through the punk music scene. Rolling Stone released a teaser story in which Tom Gabel, lead singer, guitarist and writer of the 15-year-strong Florida punk band Against Me! announced he was transgender. He has dealt with gender dysphoria and intends to begin living as a woman — Laura Jane Grace — by taking hormones and undergoing electrolysis treatment and full sexual-reassignment surgery.

Imagine how this announcement was received in the punk community, known for angry outbursts and middle-finger responses — a community Gabel helped create. Many people have been very supportive, but the responses have run the spectrum. Many are confused, some betrayed, others malicious. Masked by the anonymity of the Internet, people have cast their judgment upon Gabel with every profanity and vulgarity possible.

I’ll be honest: I was very confused when I read the preview article. I haven’t had any close conversations or relationships with someone who is transgender (at least that I know of). I didn’t know about the controversy surrounding gender identity disorder, debating how normative gender identities and roles actually are and whether cross-gender feelings and behaviors should be considered a disorder. But most importantly, I didn’t understand the severity of the issue on a very personal level.

“The cliche is that you’re a woman trapped in a man’s body, but it’s not that simple,” Gabel says of gender dysphoria in the article. “It’s a feeling of detachment from your body and from yourself. And it’s shitty, man. It’s really [freakin] shitty.”

What may be more telling of the struggle is the final song “Full Clarity” on the band’s album “Searching for a Former Clarity,” in which Gabel sings, “Confessing childhood secrets of dressing up in women’s clothes/ compulsions you never knew the reasons to/ Will everyone you ever meet or love/ be just a relationship based on a false presumption?” That album was released in 2005. It is now 2012. That’s seven whole years to live in torment and anguish while the secrets that keep others from truly knowing you tear you up inside. Gabel reveals in the interview that the fear and misery of the situation caused him to develop an addiction to alcohol and hard drugs at the age of 13. That sounds like hell.

I think, given how political the conversation has become in the last couple years, it’s easy for those disconnected from the LGBT community to drown in the stats and figures and forget how truly personal and individual the difficulties are. And given that everyone I’ve met who has identified with LGBT has, to some degree, begun addressing the internal tension and pain of secrecy, it’s easy to forget how severe that pain can be.

I have a friend I’ve known for years and spent a great deal of time with who recently revealed some secrets relevant to this topic. And after hearing everything they went through over the last few years to get to a point where they could admit it to themselves and to others — the denial and disbelief, the fear and frustration — my only wish is that I could have been there with them through it all. That they wouldn’t have had to go through it alone.

I know that, for many, this issue is a moral issue, and I don’t expect anything I write here to be able to change your moral views, as I understand they are grounded in a very personal part of your life. I’m not asking that you change these views but that you hold them in perspective. Because the opinions you casually throw out without a second thought can have lasting effects on another person in a very deep way. Those words can be the keys that lock a person into self-isolation and the belief that he or she can never be his or herself because it is wrong.

You may believe a person’s lifestyle is wrong according to your God, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. But what else do your choice of words and actions say about your god? That he wants to lock people in their silent despair? That his hatred justifies their outcast and mistreatment from society? I am a Christian, and that is not my God. My God desires freedom and restoration for all, independent of “right” and “wrong.” My God is love.

 

Show Chase some love with an email to ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: Don’t let me cave in https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/08/half-invented-dont-let-me-cave-in/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/08/half-invented-dont-let-me-cave-in/#respond Tue, 08 May 2012 07:28:23 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1065781 Rather than acting out of a pervading sense of freedom in the options and opportunities in front of us, we become enslaved to what we believe others expect of us.

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Prior to the 2012 baseball season, Albert Pujols, commonly referred to as the best hitter of our generation and a future Hall of Famer, signed with the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim for a 10-year, $254 million monster of a contract. Along with the obvious excitement and expectations, questions and speculations dominated the headlines. At 32 years, is he on the decline? Will he be worth the money?

Fast-forward to the present, 30 games into the worst season of Pujols’ career. Pujols failed to hit a home run until his 111th at bat on Sunday, the longest drought in his career. Every couple days, there was a new video or article on ESPN about why Pujols was hitting so poorly, and they all agreed he was pressing; he was trying too hard. Despite everything he said in interviews, his swing showed he was trying to break the pressure of the media and prove he was worth the $254 million contract. He was swinging at bad pitches and pulling long shots foul by getting ahead of the pitch. Rather than just playing the game he’d always played so well, he was trying too hard to prove himself to others. And ironically, his first home run came after taking a game off.

I would be audacious enough to assume that no one reading this article is getting paid $254 million dollars to do their job or having every grade and every comment scrutinized in the national media, but that doesn’t mean we don’t feel the pressure to perform or prove ourselves to others, or maybe even ourselves. I feel a lot of college students feel the weight of unbearable pressures and expectations, and the harder we try to uphold them, the longer we stand directly beneath their weight until we eventually cave in.

I recently talked with a sophomore who is finishing the HumBio core this quarter. She’s struggled and despised every minute of it since fall quarter, but continues taking classes because she feels she has to prove something to her parents. Since starting high school, her parents had always pushed her to be a doctor — not in a threatening way, but because they truly believed that’s what she wanted. She is no longer studying for herself or those she may be able to help as a doctor, but to not disappoint her parents. Every test has become about how many points she’s missed the curve by, and every day is pervaded by her fear of not getting into a medical school.

I have another friend who is the first of his family to go to college. He has two younger sisters and a younger brother that look to him as an example. He feels that, given his opportunity, he has a responsibility to his family to make tons and tons of money in order to improve their life. And when he didn’t get the internship he wanted this summer, he broke down. He felt guilty that he had let his family down.

As a college student, I often get caught up in the day-to-day routines and tasks and don’t stop to ask why I am doing what I’m doing. Is it because I truly enjoy it and made a commitment, or is it because I feel I have to prove myself to someone? The latter may not always seem like a bad thing. Sometimes it leads to better grades or a better job, but it also robs us of our worth and places it in the hands of another person just as broken and insecure. Rather than acting out of a pervading sense of freedom in the options and opportunities in front of us, we become enslaved to what we believe others expect of us.

When will you have accomplished enough that you no longer feel the need to prove yourself? Once you’ve won a World Series? Once you’ve signed the second-largest contract in baseball history? Maybe that point never comes, and maybe it is better to identify the source of pressure so you can step out from underneath it. Take some time for yourself to figure out what you really love doing. Create space to develop your individuality. Have those difficult confrontations with the people you feel pressured by. Odds are they don’t realize how negatively their words and actions affect you. Surround yourself with encouraging people who don’t make you feel like you have to earn or deserve their approval. Don’t cave in.

 

Feel like caving in to Chase’s charms? Send him an email at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: Liar! (It takes one to know one) https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/01/half-invented-liar-it-takes-one-to-know-one/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/05/01/half-invented-liar-it-takes-one-to-know-one/#respond Tue, 01 May 2012 07:28:49 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1065138 The way we perceive, understand and react to the world around us is completely dependent upon our emotions, our experiences (or lack thereof) and the fact that we can only get inside our own heads and not anyone else’s.

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There’s a concept in every form of storytelling known as the unreliable narrator. It basically means the person telling the story has been compromised and can’t fully be trusted. Oh, examples you say? (Spoiler Alert: I’m about to reveal some big twists. So if you haven’t seen Fight Club or read “The Catcher in the Rye” yet, then, “spoiler alert,” you’ve been living under a rock for the last 13 years. C’mon!)

In Fight Club, you get about three quarters of the way through the movie before you realize Brad Pitt is actually Edward Norton, just with a cooler jacket and better abs. Or think back to when you read “The Catcher in the Rye” in high school and only in the last chapter did you find out Holden Caulfield was crazy the whole time. Or when this girl tells you The Notebook is really sad and you’re going to cry and then you watch the whole thing and it turns out nothing is sad because they end up together…or something like that. It shakes you up a bit. You have to go back and decipher what was really true in it all. So Edward Norton blew his own apartment up? And is that why people think I’m cool if I namedrop “The Catcher in the Rye”? And are all girls unreliable narrators, or just that girl?

Another Spoiler Alert: We’re all unreliable narrators in our own lives. That’s just the way life is. It doesn’t mean we’re liars necessarily; it just means we can’t be objective and distanced from our own emotions and desires. The way we perceive, understand and react to the world around us is completely dependent upon our emotions, our experiences (or lack thereof) and the fact that we can only get inside our own heads and not anyone else’s. We’re all unreliable, and some are more unreliable than others.

For example, if you ask a friend why they broke up with their significant other and their answer is, “Well, he/she is just a [insert enthusiastic curse word],” then they’re probably a little unreliable on the subject. Or if you ask a friend in a fraternity or sorority how they did in rush this year and they answer, “We totally destroyed everyone else. Best pledge class ever!” they’re probably a bit unreliable too. Or if a friend uses the phrase “YOLO” for whatever reason, even sarcastically, they are 100 percent unreliable and you should probably re-evaluate how you choose your friends.

So if we’re all unreliable narrators, why does it even matter? That is a fantastic and conveniently timed question that I just incepted into your brain. There are some major benefits when we remember our viewpoint isn’t the only viewpoint, and probably isn’t even the most accurate viewpoint. The only thing we can ever be sure of about our unreliability is that it will always be unreliable to an extent. So the best we can do to minimize our own bias is to understand it as fully as possible.

When we acknowledge we are unreliable and our objectivity has been compromised, we stop supposing the intentions of others and start focusing on our own. If I get one of those lovely passive-aggressive Stanford emails that I feel is attacking me, it’s really easy, and even fair according to my unreliability, to shoot a less-passive, more-aggressive email back at the person who is trying to hurt me. But, if I acknowledge that I am emotionally biased because I feel threatened, then I can entertain the possibility that my emotions are reading negativity into the email and it may not be there at all. Knowing my gut reaction may be wrong, I can respond more patiently and constructively.

This allows for more grace when dealing with others because our conception of “fairness” becomes closer to the truth. Because I can only know my side of the story and my intentions, I’m really only working with half a deck. I can do my best to imagine or assume what the other person intended or experienced, but I’ll probably end up selling them short. Either way, even if I can fabricate a complete understanding of the situation, it’ll always be half-invented, and fairness based on only half-truths isn’t fair at all. This forces us to have real authentic conversations, discussions and even confrontations with each other. It allows us to focus on our own shortcomings rather than that of others, and to treat each other with humility and grace. And that is the truth.

 

If you want to find out just how unreliable Chase is, or you are still angry he spoiled Fight Club (or The Notebook) for you, email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: We clean up so well https://stanforddaily.com/2012/04/17/half-invented-we-clean-up-so-well/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/04/17/half-invented-we-clean-up-so-well/#comments Tue, 17 Apr 2012 07:28:30 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1063614 It’s a pretty simple concept: If you pretend to be confident and successful for long enough, you will eventually become confident and successful.

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“Fake it ‘til you make it!” It’s a pretty common phrase, especially in the business world and entertainment industry. I’ve heard many guest writers and business leaders attribute their success to this mantra. It’s a pretty simple concept: If you pretend to be confident and successful for long enough, you will eventually become confident and successful. Buy expensive clothes even if you’re getting paid minimum wage; they will think you are rich and capable. Never let on that you don’t know about whatever is being discussed. Just say things like, “You’re so right, and that’s what the (insert: Conservatives/Liberals/French) will never understand” or “I liked their first album better,” and then inconspicuously exit the conversation. It doesn’t matter if you’re sad on the inside — be happy on the outside. Basically, just be yourself, but a better yourself…so actually, not yourself at all.

But it still works, right? The people who swear by the “fake it ‘til you make it” mentality all seem so successful and happy. For example, take that one guest speaker from a couple weeks ago. He had a fancy suit and was super nice to everyone. He even told me my views on health care reform were genius, but they would never get passed in this country because the conservatives are too…oh, wait, now I get it.

There are some major problems with this mentality. The line of when a person has “made it” is pretty arbitrary because there is always more to make. Why quit what has worked in the past?

And then there’s the fear of what kind of effect “faking it” has on others when it spills into other areas of your life. Imagine one of your parents saying, “We never really cared for you that much, but we pretended to, hoping that we might eventually grow to love you” or your favorite professor saying, “Yeah, that stuff I taught the class that nobody understood — I don’t get it either. But I’m glad you thought my suit looked good.”

But the greatest damage is in what “faking it” does to the person constantly playing pretend. I’m not a huge John Mayer fan, but he has a song called “Tracing” that describes the loneliness of faking emotions in an empty relationship. He describes the song as saying, “When is this going to kick in? Cause this feels like it’s never going to kick in. When is this sex going to turn into love? You think one runs into the other; it really doesn’t.”

There’s a bitter hollowness that comes from lying to yourself and everyone around you. You get the feeling that no one really knows you, or that you don’t even know yourself. Even if you make it on the outside by lying to yourself, you never really make it where it counts.

About a year ago, I was talking with one of my friends about to graduate. He described his college experience by saying, “It was alright. There were some good moments, but I was pretty unhappy for the last three years. College kind of sucked. But, whatever. It happens. Life moves on.” That answer blew my mind. College is supposed to be the best years of your life, and there he was so honestly and casually dismissing it. It shook me up.

For my first two years at Stanford, I wasn’t always completely happy either. I enjoyed some things and made friends, but I didn’t really feel like I had a purpose for being here, and I spent a lot of time looking for excuses to take time off and be in the real world. I felt like I didn’t really fit in, and, to be honest, I didn’t want to fit in with what I understood a typical Stanford kid to be. I didn’t like these feelings of discontentment, but they were there nonetheless.

Rather than addressing them, I decided to fake it. I put on a smile and exaggerated how great everything was out of some absurd fear of “failing” the college experience. But the brutal honesty and self-awareness of my friend encouraged me to be really honest with myself, and I started being honest with others. When asked, I would say that college was alright, and I describe both the good and bad. My impossible expectations were lowered, and I’ve actually enjoyed myself much more since then. “Fake it ‘til you make it” may fool others, but I prefer to confront, embrace and make the best of the truth.

 

You won’t have to fake it with Chase. Email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: Think with your heart https://stanforddaily.com/2012/04/10/half-invented-think-with-your-heart/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/04/10/half-invented-think-with-your-heart/#comments Tue, 10 Apr 2012 07:28:43 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1062795 I never wanted to go to Stanford for college. I never wanted to go anywhere in particular. Of course I wanted to go to college, but I never had my heart set on a specific college.

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I never wanted to go to Stanford for college. I never wanted to go anywhere in particular. Of course I wanted to go to college, but I never had my heart set on a specific college. This, however, was not the case for the girl sitting next to me in the outfield bleacher seats at the Coliseum in Oakland nearly two years ago. She had finished spring quarter finals early, so we decided to catch the Angels vs. A’s game to celebrate. I had a final the next day, but it was an IHUM final, so I accepted the inevitable “B” and drove up to Oakland.

Stanford University was her lifelong dream. It was where her parents met. It was her motivation to ace tests and join clubs in high school. It was the only future she’d ever imagined. And it was the cause of great despair and even greater joy as she endured the long, torturous months between having been waitlisted and eventually accepted. She was glowing just talking about it. But the glow eventually wore off as I began to share the completely underwhelming story of how I only applied to Stanford because my mom wanted to see if I could get in, and how, before applying to any colleges, I had decided to go wherever I got the most financial aid. Thankfully, Stanford is very generous with their money.

In one of my classes, we discussed how it is a very common tendency, especially at this school, to analyze situations rather than react emotionally because we feel more comfortable on intellectual grounds. This became evident as a conversation intentionally geared toward emotional reactions to a recent, tragic event morphed into an intellectual discussion on depression, complete with statistics and psychological theories. I’ve often been teased and labeled as an “Emo Kid” (because I listen to awesome music), but I still direct problems to my intellect rather than my emotion because emotions are scary. It is safer to think than to feel.

Objectivity keeps us distant and removed, an arm’s length from situations and possible failure. It cleanses us of responsibility by placing decisions purely into the hands of cold reason and logic. By choosing my college based on numbers, I didn’t bear the responsibility of choosing “wrong,” and by keeping the gravity of the situation away from my desires, I insulated myself from the pain of possible rejection. However, removing myself from the emotional experience consequentially meant removing myself from experiencing the full joy of being accepted.

This intellectual default also allows us to maintain the image of being composed, mature adults. (I promised myself I wouldn’t use the Duck Syndrome here because everyone uses the duck metaphor.) It restrains our expression of emotion to only what is justified and considered rational and acceptable. But emotions are hardly ever rational, and we end up disguising how we really feel — and consequently who we really are — for the sake of looking composed. Part of the appeal of “getting wasted” is the freedom to reveal these dangerously vulnerable feelings and emotions through the newly provided justification of “just being a little tipsy.” It’s as if we need the excuse of not being our  normal  selves in order to be our real selves.

I’m not suggesting we completely throw out rationality and intellect and become slaves to our impulses and emotions. I’m merely giving the postmodern nudge to the significance of emotion by stating that there are limitations to rationality and intellect, and that living purely in your head is not living at all. Analytical judgments allow you to calculate risks, but it doesn’t necessarily help you take those risks. Jim Adkins of Jimmy Eat World (an awesome emo band) writes, “You’ll sit alone forever if you wait for the right time. What are you hoping for?” There’s hardly ever that perfect moment when chasing your dreams and desires is also the most sensible and rational choice. Yet, even as the head shakes side-to-side, the heart continues to beat feverishly.

Dustin Kensrue of Thrice (not an emo band, but an awesome band nonetheless) wrote in the liner notes of a record, “Nothing worth loving is safe to love.” Great rewards are preceded by great risks, leaps of faith over chasms far too vast and unpredictable for logic and sensibility to dare tread. While both intellect and emotion have limitations, they compliment each other in their weaknesses. By denying either when considering our actions, convictions and overall worldview, we are denying ourselves.

 

If your head kept saying “No!” but your heart (or body) kept saying “Yes!” while reading this, let Chase know by emailing him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: The Great Divorce https://stanforddaily.com/2012/04/04/half-invented-the-great-divorce/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/04/04/half-invented-the-great-divorce/#comments Wed, 04 Apr 2012 07:28:20 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1062233 But after a couple of days, there’s something about being away from school that makes me go stir-crazy.

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I love breaks from school, don’t get me wrong. I love the beach, spending time with family and friends and getting to peacefully sleep late without the guilt of having missed morning classes…or afternoon classes. But after a couple of days, there’s something about being away from school that makes me go stir-crazy.

 

Now before Stanford copy-pastes that statement and slaps it onto the cover of some recruiting pamphlet, I should clarify: There is something about being home for a week or two that doesn’t feel like real life. It makes me restless. It feels like a waiting room. Sure, it’s a really fun waiting room filled with people I love, the television isn’t permanently stuck on the local news and it doesn’t smell like old people, but it’s a waiting room nonetheless. It’s as if none of my actions have real consequences. The way I spend my day, whether positive or negative, has no lasting impact upon my normal college life at Stanford. I can’t get ahead. I can’t get behind. All I can do is wait.

 

This spring break, I finally got around to reading “The Great Divorce” by C. S. Lewis. The story describes a man that takes a bus ride from Hell to Heaven, but in this story Heaven is an extremely vivid and dense reality where the man appears only as a shadowy phantom, and Hell is a sad, mundane neighborhood known as The Grey Town. I pictured it as Boston, probably because baseball season is less than a week away and I despise the Red Sox. It’s a novel that I highly recommend. And while it is in no way a central theme, it speaks to the life-is-a-waiting-room feeling where actions appear to have little effect on “real life.”

 

I often lull myself into the notion that my actions primarily affect others. If I give money to a homeless man, he gets to eat. If I don’t let that lady in the Prius merge in front of me on the freeway, she gets angry. But Lewis suggests the opposite: that we are the primary beneficiary and victims of our own choices. Sure, when I give a homeless man money, he gets food, but more importantly, I become a person who values the needs of others ahead of myself. And when I don’t let that Prius in ahead of me on the 101, I become a person who values my time over others.

 

In every action and decision, no matter how inconsequential, we are constantly choosing who we are becoming. I’ve heard it said that, “Your future is an amplification of your present,” and our present is right now. There are people with dreams of helping the poor who are waiting until they’ve made their personal fortune so they can give out of excess. But in constantly choosing wealth over charity, one may slowly, and almost unnoticeably, become a person who values his or her comfort over the needs of others to such an extent that he or she no longer considers the poor when they have wealth. Others are working themselves to death so they can one day finally relax and be satisfied. But in continuously choosing work and stress over joy and rest, it is very possible they may slowly become a person who is no longer able to be content and satisfied. As Lewis puts it, “First they will not, in the end they cannot.” Every moment is eternally significant.

 

I have a friend from high school who was a very close friend for a good year or so. Then for some valid reasons and some stupid reasons for which we were both responsible, we stopped being close friends. And as of now, we’ve basically stopped talking altogether. Enough time has passed that it doesn’t bother me like it used to, but I know I need to apologize and ask for forgiveness. This choice in no way affects my future. It’s not motivated by blame or guilt or a search for closure; I’m pretty content with where I’m at right now. It’s not to make things right for the sake of a future friendship; without effort and intention, I could easily never see this person again, that’s just the way life is. But by letting things go to avoid uncomfortable confrontation, I am choosing to become a person who values pride and stubbornness over forgiveness and reconciliation. And that is a step down a road I do not want to take.

 

Who we are in the future is constantly decided by the choices we make right now.

 

For some absurd reason, Chase is an Angels fan. Help him get over his horrible taste in baseball teams at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half Invented: Something left behind https://stanforddaily.com/2012/03/06/half-invented-something-left-behind/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/03/06/half-invented-something-left-behind/#respond Tue, 06 Mar 2012 08:28:06 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1060569 I know many of us deal with feelings of shame and inadequacy on a very real level, but there was something about seeing the response of a seven-year-old, so vulnerable and uninhibited, that made the pain seem that much more visceral.

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Half Invented: Something left behindI started teaching math to kindergarteners and first graders after school twice a week. For two major reasons, I feel obligated to share that I get paid for this. First, I want to give an honest depiction: I am a starving college student looking for a relatively easy minimum wage job, not Mother Teresa. Second, by stating that I get paid, it implies it is through a professional organization and that I’m not just randomly showing up to elementary schools, giving out snacks and teaching tiny kids how to add of my own accord. That would be kind of creepy.

 

Some days, I take my group of students outside to do math on the playground, partially because they are kindergarteners and don’t have the attention span to be inside a classroom for two hours, and partially because I’m in college but still don’t have the attention span to be inside a classroom for two hours. On this particular day, we were doing subtraction by jumping backwards on a number line near the kickball court. (Best teacher ever!) The children were laughing and excited to be outside, and everything was great.

 

But, then one girl started crying — a soft, slow cry. At first, it was just sniffles and heavy breathing, but the other children began to notice, and her panic began to grow. I had no idea why she was upset. I started walking over to assess the situation, but the moment she saw me coming, she screamed and ran across the blacktop to the jungle gym on the other side of the playground. I began to run after her, leaving the rest of the class of kindergarteners standing there with no instruction other than to “do math with each other.” (Worst teacher ever.)

 

She was hiding in the winding tunnel slide. But she didn’t come out when I called her name. I stuck my head inside and called her again, and when she saw me, her face grew terrified, and she began to scamper backwards up the slide out of fear. It was the most scared I’d ever seen a child.

 

She eventually came down, (or was forced down by the other kids using the slide). And once she had taken many slow, deep breaths, she was able to tell me what was going on. She had seen her mother and younger sister walk by across the parking lot, but her mother had promised her on that day that she would be picked up before her sister. She felt forgotten. Abandoned. She felt “like nothing.”

 

I know many of us deal with feelings of shame and inadequacy on a very real level, but there was something about seeing the response of a seven-year-old, so vulnerable and uninhibited, that made the pain seem that much more visceral.

 

Shame, for something we’ve done or that has been done to us, often rears its ugly head through unhealthy addictions, resentment toward others or complete bitterness and hatred toward oneself. And it’s not like a skinned knee on a playground, where we can just slap a band-aid on it and call it a day. These wounds run so deeply to the core of our emotional health and conception of identity that we deem them too dangerous or painful to expose to others. We get really good at climbing backwards up the slide.

 

At least from my experience, hiding shame or sorrow doesn’t make the pain go away or alleviate it. In fact, refusing to identify or acknowledge it just compounds the problem; it breeds the loneliness that no one truly knows or understands you. The pain of abandonment or rejection, self-loathing or self-pity, needs to be brought into the light in order for the hope of healing to be seen.

 

What the crying kindergarten girl from my math class needed most was to be heard. Only when we can talk openly with someone about our faults or ways we’ve been hurt can we begin to tell our story in a more positive light, focusing on how things can be better. Only then can we re-conceive the suffering and creatively choose how to deal with it.

 

Healing requires an openness to sharing your story with others and a boldness to receiving and embracing their stories without shying away. Shame and suffering exist, and they are very real. We either choose to support and share our pain together in love, or we are left to bear it alone.

 

Talking is great, but Chase knows an even better way to make you feel good. Let him help you — email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: Simple math https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/28/half-invented-simple-math/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/28/half-invented-simple-math/#respond Tue, 28 Feb 2012 08:28:33 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1059717 "There are two ways of getting home, and one of them is to stay there. The other is to walk round the whole world till we come back to the same place,” writes G.K. Chesterton, an early-20th century wizard of words, in the introduction to his book “The Everlasting Man.”

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Half-Invented: Simple math“There are two ways of getting home, and one of them is to stay there. The other is to walk round the whole world till we come back to the same place,” writes G.K. Chesterton, an early-20th century wizard of words, in the introduction to his book “The Everlasting Man.”

 

He then continues by summarizing a story he had yet to write about “some boy whose farm or cottage stood on such a slope, and who went on his travels to find something, such as the effigy and grave of some giant; and when he was far enough from home he looked back and saw that his own farm and kitchen garden, shining flat on the hillside like the colors and quartering’s of a shield, were but parts of some such gigantic figure, on which he had always lived, but which was too large and too close to be seen.”

 

What if we’ve been trying to get to where we’ve always been?

 

We all have ambitions and goals for our future. For some, it may be a detailed, 40-page single-spaced life plan (the original of which is kept in a top-secret vault in the nonexistent basement of Old Union) and, for others, it may be as vague as to just “be happy.” My guess is that you’re probably somewhere in between. Law School? A successful engineering career? Top pick in the NFL draft? (Here’s to hoping Andrew Luck reads this and shoots me an email!)

 

Whatever the case, we all have some projection of the ideal future that we are progressing toward and trying to reach: the summit, the golden age, the actualization of potential, the ultimate fulfillment and validation. But there’s a nagging chorus lingering in the air that is continuously drowned out by the clamor of our hard work and busyness. It embodies the theme of Chesterton’s story and screams, “What if we’ve been trying to get to where we’ve always been?” (It sounds exactly like Manchester Orchestra’s song “Simple Math,” which happens to have the coolest music video of all time.)

 

There are two types of goals we attempt to reach: achievement and transformation. The former are the more concrete aspirations, and they are never ends in themselves. No one wants to become a doctor just for the sake of becoming a doctor. The root desire is a combination of helping people (or gaining the satisfaction of helping people), the high salary, the social status or to fulfill a lifelong dream of turning your life into the show “Scrubs.”

 

There is a complication with treating the simplest desires, such as wanting to be happy or successful or influential, as goals in and of themselves. How much is enough? Will you know it when you reach it? Chesterton adds, “There are two ways to get enough. One is to acquire more and more. The other is to desire less.”

 

Regarding the two types of goals previously described, I’ve continuously advocated for the latter, the transformative process. Regardless of where you go, what job you have or whom you marry, the constant in each situation is you. So rather than trying to achieve a certain status, it is better to transform — or rather be transformed — into a certain type of person. Instead of holding an occupation as a target, allow your character to be primary. Rather than striving to become a genius coder, work to become a patient and understanding person who also codes extremely well. Instead of trying to become a suave entrepreneur, work to become a generous and compassionate person who happens to run million-dollar companies.

 

The true superiority of this goal is that it can happen right where you are, today. The ideal future, the golden age of opportunity, the ultimate fulfillment and validation that we predict for the future and have anxiously anticipated has come near and is all around us right now. That place we’ve been trying to get to — where we can take steps toward becoming a person who loves and forgives and is patient, humble and joyful independent of circumstances — is actually where we’ve always been.

 

The boy in Chesterton’s story was unable to see he was falling asleep and waking up everyday within the fulfillment of his quest because he didn’t recognize his surroundings for what they were. It is only by re-seeing, or possibly seeing for the first time, the opportunities and potential around us everyday that we can grow and be transformed into something greater: giants within our own frame.

 

If the place that you’re trying to get to isn’t where you’ve always been, but instead a romantic, candlelit dinneror if you’re Andrew Luckemail Chase at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half-Invented: Is Jeremy Lin a superstar? https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/21/half-invented-jeremy-lin-is-not-a-superstar/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/21/half-invented-jeremy-lin-is-not-a-superstar/#comments Tue, 21 Feb 2012 08:28:58 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1058873 For most of my life, I’ve considered myself a product of a white, Southern Californian culture, stressing the “American” much more than “Asian-American.” He had very appropriately called me out for suddenly leaping onto the Linsanity bandwagon.

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Half-Invented: Is Jeremy Lin a superstar?My friend Brett is an avid Derek Fisher fan. And when I say avid, I mean the only thing keeping him from stealing a lock of Fisher’s hair and performing a creepy, voodoo ritual in his closet shrine is the fact that Derek Fisher is bald and has no hair.  So after Jeremy Lin torched the Los Angeles Lakers with 38 points in his third career start, I texted him, “Looks like your D-Fish couldn’t handle guarding my Asian tonight.”

 

To which he cleverly responded, “Oh, so you decided you’re Asian now?”

 

For most of my life, I’ve considered myself a product of a white, Southern Californian culture, stressing the “American” much more than “Asian-American.” He had very appropriately called me out for suddenly leaping onto the Linsanity bandwagon.

 

Also, I wish they would have instead called it “Linception,” and then played the ominous boom from the “Inception” soundtrack every time he scored.

 

Jeremy Lin has been called a symbol, but a symbol of what? If you don’t follow basketball/don’t have any Asian friends on your Facebook news feed, Jeremy Lin has exploded into the league out of obscurity and is making history in the NBA. For me, it isn’t really an encouraging story of Asian-American empowerment. Even though this theme is incredibly important to those with a strong Asian identity, the fact of the matter is: he is 6-foot-3 and I am 5-foot-3. For me, it’s not the empowering “If He, Why Not Me?” Jackie-Robinson-of-basketball story.

 

It’s just like the “Christian sports hero” line, which doesn’t resonate with me either. Jesus often empowered the poor, obscure and rejected, but I still haven’t found the verse that says, “Blessed are the rock stars and sports heroes.” I’m not saying that his success is wrong or shouldn’t be celebrated by Christians as a brother in Christ (especially in the case of Lin’s incredible humility), but it seems like idolatry to place him on a billboard for Christianity, as if his success makes the faith and message cooler or more compelling.

 

This is scientifically known as “The Tebow Effect.” However, I don’t think the label of an “outspoken Christian” is fair either. After all, he isn’t half-court proselytizing. People are asking personal questions about his life and sticking a mic in his face, and he is responding honestly; this is what Christians should be announcing over his statistics.

 

David Brooks of The New York Times recently wrote a misinformed and unconvincing article titled “The Jeremy Lin Problem” about how “the moral ethos of sports is in tension with the moral ethos of faith.” Brooks claims today’s sports hero is an assertive, self-touting, center-of-attention-seeking athlete that puts himself on display. It’d be difficult to argue against the worldwide coverage (and violent mob of New York Knicks’ fans) that Lin is not a sports hero. But, does he fit Brooks’ definition?

 

In last week’s win over the Sacramento Kings, Lin scored only 10 points on 4-6 shooting (but with 13 assists) and then commented he felt he was taking too many shots. Imagine Kobe Bryant (averaging 23.9 attempts) saying that.

 

When asked to comment on his recent success, Lin stated he was uncomfortable with the limelight and wished people would pay more attention to his teammates’ accomplishments. And in the Knicks’ only loss in eight games with Lin at the helm, he publicly took full responsibility for the loss. Imagine LeBron James saying either of those things.

 

In response to questions about taunts, insults and racial slurs, Lin answered, “As I grew older, I realized that I shouldn’t allow that stuff to affect me, and at the same time I shouldn’t retaliate…It’s just something I’m used to now, and it’s a good opportunity to reflect the grace of God when you don’t say anything back, or when you’re really respectful in return.” Just like in that Sprite commercial when Kobe says his thirst is to “prove them wrong,” right?

 

Perhaps Brooks is right in claiming that the self-soliciting superstar we know is not compatible with the morality of faith. And perhaps the flashy, adventurous, take-charge superstar we know in our Western world is not compatible with a more Eastern understanding of masculinity. But, perhaps Lin has no intention of being the superstar we know, or a superstar at all for that matter. Rather than downplaying or dropping his Christian and Asian values to meet the current archetype of a superstar, Lin has fully embraced his fundamental identity. He’s shattered the mold. All he does is Lin.

 

If you’re thinking, “Forget Jeremy Lin. That 5-foot-3 Asian guy sounds like a real score!” then email Chase at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half Invented: Dismantle. Repair. https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/14/half-invented-dismantle-repair/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/14/half-invented-dismantle-repair/#respond Tue, 14 Feb 2012 08:28:52 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1058118 A lot can happen away from home, away from familiarity and security. The people around you don’t behave the same way, share the same beliefs or value the same things as the world to which you once belonged. It is a fascinating new world to freely explore or a menacing unknown to fear at every turn. In this sense, we are all nomads, pilgrims and wanderers, all on a voyage of discovery.

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Half Invented: Dismantle. Repair.I’ve heard it said that there are essentially two types of stories: a stranger coming to town, and a person leaving their home on a voyage of discovery.

 

In the former, the main character’s familiar world is shaken and disturbed by “an outsider” to such an alarming degree that returning to the status quo is no longer possible — for example, the movie “Footloose.” (I think. I haven’t actually seen “Footloose.” Though I have seen the scene in “Hot Rod” where Andy Samberg angry-dances in the woods, which I hear is an allusion to “Footloose.” I also danced to the song “Footloose” in an ’80s musical in high school. And by danced, I mean violently hip-thrusted behind everyone else the entire song.)

 

The latter is an adventure story. The main character leaves home and must adapt and expand his or her worldview according to fascinatingly bizarre new interactions and discoveries — for example, in “Alice in Wonderland,” “Candide” or “The Odyssey” (at least according to SparkNotes…just kidding, Honor Code). While both stories follow a character’s changes and challenges, I feel the latter heavily embodies the college experience.

 

A lot can happen away from home, away from familiarity and security. The people around you don’t behave the same way, share the same beliefs or value the same things as the world to which you once belonged. It is a fascinating new world to freely explore or a menacing unknown to fear at every turn. In this sense, we are all nomads, pilgrims and wanderers, all on a voyage of discovery.

 

But the more important discoveries to be made and tensions to be tamed are completely internal. It is the voyage of self-discovery. Only when we’ve “left home” and divorced ourselves from the influences and expectations of our friends, family and familiarity can we confidently distinguish where their perceptions of us stop and where we truly begin. Is this really what I believe, or is this just what I’ve always been taught and expected to believe? Is this actually what I want to do with my life or just what my parents expect of me? Is it wrong of me to think Dubstep has no redeeming qualities? These are questions that don’t have simple answers (except the last one, which is not just a definitive, resounding “no,” but also includes a “shame on you for even second-guessing” wag of the finger.)

 

If we treat this time in college, our first independent steps into the real world, as an adventure, an exploration of identity and self-awareness, we gain a freedom and forgiveness incompatible with the stepping-stone-to-success mentality. In the success framework, a test failed or an opportunity blown is unforgiveable. You can’t get it back, and there’s no redeemable outlook. But there are no wrong turns in an adventure. There are dangers, setbacks and complications, but if you are seeking experiences that reveal who you are and who you want to be, every situation is a stepping stone. There is grace and redemption at every turn.

 

This doesn’t promise or imply that life will always be enjoyable. Adventures often include long treks across scorching deserts, over blistering mountains and through shadowed valleys. Honest introspection can easily lead to feelings of frustration, shame, inadequacy, bitterness or helplessness. But entering into this dangerous vulnerability is where we truly find ourselves, who we are deep down to the core.

 

It’s about this time every quarter when I begin to feel extremely restless, like Stanford is the last place I want to be. (Dan Campbell would say, “I’m not sad anymore, I’m just tired of this place.”) But as I learned last year, after spending a month at home and then three months halfway across the world, the restlessness really had nothing to do with where I was but rather how I was. I had to peel back layer after layer of ugly truth about myself to reach the dark heart of the matter — a lot of unresolved bitterness. Only in comprehending the extent of how easily my actions could be guided by pride and resentment could I truly understand the necessity of forgiveness, humility and honesty in the person I wanted to be.

 

The voyage of self-discovery constantly requires effort and intentionality, with many ups-and-downs, but it is an adventure nonetheless. We must dismantle to repair.

 

If you have thoughts or questions — or would just like to see Chase violently hip-thrust to “Footloose” live and in person — email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Half Invented: An introduction (to your new best friend!) https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/07/half-invented-an-introduction-to-your-new-best-friend/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/07/half-invented-an-introduction-to-your-new-best-friend/#respond Tue, 07 Feb 2012 08:27:12 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1057178 This column will be about telling that alternative story. I believe that with everything we do -- our actions, our conversations, our attitudes and our relationships -- we are all telling a story to the rest of the world about who we are, what we believe and what we value.

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Half Invented: An introduction (to your new best friend!)Why hello there, Tuesday Reader! Fancy meeting you here.

 

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Chase Ishii, and for the next four months, I will be your new best friend. (If you are reading this next to your current best friend, don’t worry. Just breathe slowly and act natural, and they won’t have a clue. Unless, of course, they are reading this with you, in which case, you have been replaced as well, so everything is fine.)

 

Some of you may know me as “the Thursday Poop Newspaper Guy” from last volume (which is actually one of the better nicknames I’ve received. Much better than Squishy Ishii…I immediately regret putting that in print.) But with a new volume and a new day comes a new theme. This column will not be a traditional Opinions column, but you will forgive me for it (because that’s what best friends do.)

 

I will not be addressing controversial topics, such as politics, the economy or whether or not the E! Channel is ruining America’s reputation more than any act of foreign intervention ever could. (It is.)

 

The older I get, the more I realize how gray black-and-white issues really are and how important it is to hear all sides (especially the minority) before taking a firm stance. (So, if I ever do write an overly political column, it probably means I have been kidnapped by the North Koreans and am writing at gunpoint. Rather than assessing the persuasiveness and rhetorical strength of my argument, you should write a letter to your congressman petitioning for my release.)

 

Ivan Illich, an Australian philosopher, wrote, “Neither revolution nor reformation can ultimately change a society, rather you must tell a new powerful tale, one so persuasive that it sweeps away the old myths and becomes the preferred story, one so inclusive that it gathers all the bits of our past and our present into a coherent whole, one that even shines some light into our future so that we can take the next step…If you want to change a society, then you have to tell an alternative story.”

 

This column will be about telling that alternative story. I believe that with everything we do — our actions, our conversations, our attitudes and our relationships — we are all telling a story to the rest of the world about who we are, what we believe and what we value. It is not a question of if we are telling a story, but what kind of story we are telling. Is it exciting? Does it have twists and tensions? Is there a happy ending? Is my story worth reading?

 

And what better way to talk issues of identity, belief and worth than through stories and art? Self-awareness is the goal. We can answer the “who?” and “why?” and “how?” and “what next?” questions much better if we bring the same level of analysis to our own lives that we bring to stories and artistic endeavors. I hope that the honesty and vulnerability in this column will allow for a dialogue, a response in addition to an opinion, on the more abstract and more personal aspects of life, the kind of things you really only share with a best friend.

 

In maintaining the dialogue, I invite, encourage and beg you to use your voice. If you have opinions or questions about my views, email me. If you want to know why I don’t drink or how I can be “intellectual” and still a Christian, or if you want a 15-page single-spaced explanation of why the Angels are the greatest baseball team in the MLB, email me. If you have your own story you want to share that you think can change (or shift) society, email me. This column is a platform, and your voice in the conversation is the difference between “talking at” and “talking to” the Stanford community. And I’m all ears.

 

Half Invented refers to the way we experience the world. Without getting into the metaphysics of it all (mainly because I don’t understand the metaphysics of it all), your reality is just that — your reality. It is the way you, and you alone, perceive the world. We hypothesize to fill in the inevitable gaps we can never really know — the motivations of others, their perceptions of us and what we think is “capital-T Truth” — and then we respond accordingly. We may be right or wrong in these assumptions, but either way, it’s all we really have to go on. And in that way, our lives — the stories we experience and the stories we tell — are always half-invented.

 

See you next week, new best friend. I’m looking forward to it.

 

If you want your new best friend to be your new more-than-just-friends, email Chase at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu. Cheers!

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Untitled https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/02/dos-and-doo-doos-untitled/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/02/02/dos-and-doo-doos-untitled/#comments Thu, 02 Feb 2012 08:30:01 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1056545 And this is the problem. We’ve been imprisoned within in a world of entitlement. Some fail to see the doors are locked. Others fail to see the bars at all. But we all, to some degree or another, have become slaves to our own sense of fairness and what we believe we deserve.

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DO's and DOO-DOO's: UntitledLet’s talk about entitlement. (I had about three paragraphs of witty humor and background on the issue of piracy – including a killer Sir Francis Drake joke – to provide a topical and relevant introduction before I pulled the ol’ bait-and-switch, as usual, but due to my limited word count, I was forced to reduce those paragraphs to this one, long, most likely run-on explanatory sentence.)

 

We all place expectations upon others and ourselves which color the way we operate and behave throughout the day. These expectations become our normative standard for what is fair and deserved. If I give the lady at Chipotle $6.55 plus tax, and she gives me a delicious steak quesarrito (quesadilla + burrito) then everything is kosher (well, at least in the non-Jewish sense of the word; I’m not sure by what dietary laws Chipotle prepares their meat).

 

But expectations and entitlement become messier than a delicious steak quesarrito when we view it within the context of relationships. Everyone has their own subjective expectations of reality that create their definition of fair and deserving. European imperialists may have understood their actions in the 19th century as fair. (The “take-what-is-yours” mentality is extremely appealing when you are the one that defines what is “yours.”)

 

And this is the problem. We’ve been imprisoned within in a world of entitlement. Some fail to see the doors are locked. Others fail to see the bars at all. But we all, to some degree or another, have become slaves to our own sense of fairness and what we believe we deserve. I would argue that living your life according to fairness and entitlement, for both yourself and others, is captivity rather than freedom.

 

I see a great example in romantic relationships. Let’s say one person gives loving gestures, reaches a certain level of honest vulnerability or even lets the other person’s mistakes slide over and over. These are very normal and necessary things to maintain a relationship, and if they are done purely out of love and appreciation, everything is fine. But, sometimes they are done less out of love and more out of an unspoken expectation that things will be reciprocated – because that is what is fair. The first person will begin to feel they deserve the actions to be reciprocated, and if they are not, then the person grows resentful.

 

Ultimately, our desire to always get what we deserve is an attempt to grasp an illusion of control on the world around us. If I study so many hours, then I will get a good grade, because that is what I deserve. If I sacrifice my time helping others or go to church or am a good person, then good things will happen to me, because that is what I deserve. But it is just an illusion of control.

 

I have a good friend from high school that was recently involved in a serious car accident. Broken bones, collapsed lung, internal bleeding and signs of brain damage. He didn’t deserve that. He was a great person, but regardless of moral characteristics, no 21-year-old deserves that. No person deserves that. But it happened. Beyond anything that he or I or anyone could control, it happened.

 

Suddenly, even the little things seem like a blessing – an act of grace.

 

I believe there is a world free of entitlement – if only for moments and instances at a time. If I wake up every day feeling entitled to a certain career, a certain quality of friends and a certain level of happiness for whatever reason, then anything less is the taunting cry of dissatisfaction.

 

But, if I wake up everyday and tear up the scorecard of the things I’ve done and the things I deserve, then the act of waking up in itself is already more than I am entitled. Everything else is icing on the cake. The good things are that much better, and the bad things don’t seem as bad. I can do the really hard things, like forgiving and being grateful and sacrificing and loving in the most difficult of times. You know, the things that are worthwhile – the things that are, by definition, unfair.

 

I have the words “nothing is alright” written on the cover of the journal I carry. Sometimes “nothing is alright” is my answer to how things are going with the world, and sometimes, if I’m lucky, “nothing is alright” is my answer to what I am expecting of the world. In the end, we are beggars all

 

And ladies, Chase knows that you’re begging for his love. In this case, he thinks reciprocation is fair. So why not email him at ninjaish@stanford.edu?

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Finding joy in a hamster-eat-hamster world https://stanforddaily.com/2012/01/26/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-finding-joy-in-a-hamster-eat-hamster-world/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/01/26/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-finding-joy-in-a-hamster-eat-hamster-world/#respond Thu, 26 Jan 2012 08:27:26 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1055614 DO: Attend the campus-wide memorial for Gov’na this Monday Night at Yost. Please wear all black. (I don’t know if memorial gifts are a thing, but they will be gladly accepted.)

DOO-DOO: Consume the people around you.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Finding joy in a hamster-eat-hamster worldOn Oct. 20, 2011, after (not so) careful consideration and (little to no) planning, my roommate and I decided to commit entirely to our friendship and adopt two adorable, healthy Syrian hamsters. (Well, one was healthy, and one was incredibly fat.) They were named Gov’na, (pronounced “Governor,” but as if a British person is pronouncing it,) and Emilio (as in “Emilio Estevez! The ‘Mighty Ducks’ Guy!”).

 

We loved these hamsters with all our hearts. We stayed up late watching them fight over their little wheel and try to chew their way out of their tiny jail-I-mean-cage. We worried whether they would get teased by their little hamster classmates once they started hamster school. (Not for having two multi-racial fathers, but for having two multi-racial fathers that gave them incredibly ridiculous names.)

 

But on winter quarter’s eve, tragedy struck. (Disclaimer: if you are squeamish, you should probably skip to the next paragraph. You also probably shouldn’t text me asking for a picture.) I awoke to find that Emilio, to put it bluntly, had eaten Gov’na’s head. I don’t know if it was in self-defense or for survival or some alpha-hamster complex, but what I do know is that Mr. PetSmart Guy, who promised us they would be fine in a cage together, was bloody wrong. Which brings us to this week’s Do’s and Doo-Doo’s…

 

DO: Attend the campus-wide memorial for Gov’na this Monday Night at Yost. Please wear all black. (I don’t know if memorial gifts are a thing, but they will be gladly accepted.)

 

DOO-DOO: Consume the people around you.

 

Without drawing too many parallels to human nature out of a story about hamsters, I think there is an element of truth here. We all act harshly and destructively toward others out of our own pride, fear, jealousy, comfort and desire for personal gain. (Or at least I think we all do. Right? Shoot, I hope it’s not just me.)

 

And a lot of times, it’s not even intentional. There are so many times I’ve been impatient and short with people (“short” referring to temper) because I want to do things my way. I’ve let relationships fizzle out because I don’t want to apologize or admit that I’m wrong. And I’ve given the cold shoulder to people because I feel too busy and overwhelmed to give some of my time away. I honestly try my best to love the people around me, but far too often and far too easily, the concept of “me” and “my needs” gets overinflated and consumes the needs of the people around me. (I naively described this as “swallowing the people around me” until someone wisely criticized my word choice.)

 

I’m writing a short film right now where the main character wakes up every day in a different person’s life. He/she (I’m not sure even what to call them) literally lives life day-to-day — a new life each day. Nothing lasts — consequences or rewards. The character initially feels invincible and lives selfishly; they recklessly spend money that is not theirs in the first place. They act inconsiderately, knowing that the consequences won’t last past the day.

 

The turning point comes when the character grows unhappy because none of these immediate joys from selfish behavior carries from day to day. Further, they wake up one day in the life of a person that has been negatively affected by one of their past life’s irresponsible behaviors. The character suddenly realizes that their actions have lasting consequences on others. They begin to strive for the betterment and happiness of others, though with the selfish aim of bettering their future position, not knowing who they will be the next day. Ultimately, the character discovers that they receive the most lasting joy from positively impacting the permanent lives of those around them. End scene.

 

It requires some imagination, but it is the best way for me to communicate the lesson that I’ve learned and continue to keep learning (because I continually forget.) The more we focus on the happiness and betterment of others and the less we focus on our own situation, the happier we will be. I don’t have the philosophical arguments or sociological statistics for why this works. (If someone does, send them my way!) But I do know that on the lucky days and lucky moments when I can push my joy and my truth and my fulfillment aside, I enter into joy, truth and fulfillment that is so much bigger than me.

 

If you count slightly cannibalistic hamsters amongst your turn-ons, then email Chase forthwith (RIP Gov’na) at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Fears https://stanforddaily.com/2012/01/19/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-fears/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/01/19/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-fears/#respond Thu, 19 Jan 2012 08:28:24 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1054707 DO: Know your fear.

DOO-DOO: Hide from your fear.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: FearsFear is defined by Dictionary.com as ”a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined.” (“Classic use of a definition as an opening hook. You’ve got ‘em suckered in now, Chase!”) If we were playing an icebreaker game and you asked me what was my biggest fear, I would first make a joke about how awful of an icebreaker game this was and then probably answer, “bald people.” (“And you just lost ‘em. Nice job, Chase.”)

 

I understand this fear is completely irrational. Most bald people I’ve met have been pleasant and not threatening. I don’t know what type of danger they may pose. I don’t even know if “bald” is the politically correct terminology. (Maybe they prefer “hair-follicle challenged?” I’m getting angry emails either way.) Honestly, I don’t even know that many bald people. (That’s a much better icebreaker game! Make a list of all the bald people you know. Extra points if they are in the room!)

 

All I know is that whenever I see a bald person, I think of that scene from The Mummy when High Priest Imhotep opens up his mouth and millions of bugs fly out, and the eight-year-old inside me starts to cry. (Metaphor alert: there is not actually an eight-year-old inside of me.)

 

That long and slightly (or very) obnoxious ramble was to demonstrate that in order to face our fears, we must first identify them. We may do our best to not think about our fears because that requires admitting they exist. (Fear of fears? Meta!) But it is important to be aware of what we fear. It allows us to understand ways in which we have been crippled or controlled by our fears, and most importantly, it reveals our true values. And that brings us to this week’s advice:

 

DO: Know your fear.

 

DOO-DOO: Hide from your fear.

 

Without properly understanding our fears, we are more prone to being controlled and held captive by them. (If you replace “fears” in that sentence with “robots with lasers,” this article gets much more interesting.) As mentioned in past articles, I entered Stanford with a negative perception of Stanford students and culture. I imagined everyone to be the rich, pompous elitists so expertly portrayed by the satirical twitter handle @stanfordDOUCHE. (I had a good laugh when someone sent this to me. If I understood the Twitter, I would follow or subscribe or twit-attack or whatever it is that you do on the Twitter.)

 

I was so scared of being lumped into this negative image (which doesn’t even really exist) that I actively went out of my way to be perceived as “non-Stanford” as possible. (For the first half of freshman year, when people asked where I went to school, I would answer “a small school up north,” and when I then had to answer “Stanford” to their follow-up question, I looked like the pretentious asshole I was so afraid of being.) Worse, I missed out on a lot of the opportunities provided by the school.

 

We can also be crippled by our fears. I’ve talked to plenty of students who are stressed about choosing their majors. (There’s that less-than-half-truth floating around that your major determines your job, which determines the rest of your life.) At the root of their indecision were different types and degrees of fear. “I’m scared I might make the wrong decision” actually means “I’m scared I may not have a job,” or “I’m scared of what my parents will say,” or “I’m scared I won’t enjoy it” or any combination of any other possibilities. Especially at a place like Stanford, hyper-concerned with researching and knowing the facts before making a decision, these fears can be paralyzing.

 

I’ve recently been exploring the possibility of co-terming in…something. Only more recently did I identify this false ambition as a response to my fear of failing as a screenwriter. It’s a tough industry, and if I don’t make it, I would at least have a degree to fall back on (besides the religious studies degree that I know EVERY company is looking for). Identifying this fear of failure doesn’t make it disappear, but it does allow me to consider the situation more fully. What do I value more: security and stability or creativity and passion? And is it worth the risk of failure?

 

Take some time this week and ask yourself, “What am I so afraid of? And why? And is it worth the risk?”

 

Are you scared of emailing Chase at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu? Don’t be. (Well, only if you look a lot like Kate Beckinsale. Bald people and everyone else, don’t waste your time.)

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Nostalgia! (The Illusion of a Golden Age) https://stanforddaily.com/2012/01/12/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-nostalgia-the-illusion-of-a-golden-age/ https://stanforddaily.com/2012/01/12/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-nostalgia-the-illusion-of-a-golden-age/#respond Thu, 12 Jan 2012 08:27:14 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1054088 Do: Appreciate the past.

Doo-Doo: Live in the past.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Nostalgia! (The Illusion of a Golden Age)Last quarter in my creative writing class, we performed an emotional awareness exercise (it’s not the heart-warming Breakfast-Club-moment it sounds like, though if it was, I would have most definitely been Emilio Estevez). We took a specific state of being and described the resulting physical sensations it had upon our body. For example, humiliation = throat and stomach squeezed together; anger = lungs slowly filling with sand; Tapatio = mosh pit on the tongue.

 

The most intriguing state was nostalgia. For some, it invoked the same golden glow and weightlessness of gratitude. For others, it was that sinking emptiness expanding from the stomach that comes when one experiences despair or loneliness (or country music). Though the memories were heartfelt, they carried with them discouragement and hopelessness. They were the illusive phantoms of a life once lived. (I may have meant ‘elusive’ there, but I think either one works.) That leads me to today’s advice:

 

Do: Appreciate the past.

 

Doo-Doo: Live in the past.

 

The past is peculiar. (I feel British whenever I use the word ‘peculiar.’) The past has an incredible influence on our present and future even though it is just that — time passed. It’s obvious the way a person’s emotional, mental and relational health can be crippled by a harmful past — abuse, addiction, betrayal, tragedy — sadly, the list goes on. But there can be a negative reactionary component to good memories as well, one that speaks much more to our present than our past.

 

I spent last spring quarter abroad in Oxford. The majority of my time was spent writing or researching my weekly 10-page tutorial papers. (I don’t say this to brag, but rather to help paint an accurate picture…but also to brag.) Yet when I think back on the trip, my memory tends to leave out the less than desirable parts. I don’t remember pulling multiple all-nighters, paying double for everything because the American dollar is having performance issues or being told to stop shouting in public because my best attempt at a British accent sounds like the Geico Gecko. But I do remember running around the streets of Edinburgh, Scotland at midnight and trying to explain my love for Angels baseball to a baseball-illiterate (and therefore lesser) nation and getting to attend Will & Kate’s royal wedding due to a crazy, fluke mistake with invitation deliveries. (I don’t remember if that last part actually happened, further proving my argument for the faulty nature of memory.)

 

The Illusion of a Golden Age: a flawed longing for a fictionalized past can keep us discontent and shackled from proceeding in the present. (Don’t believe me? Ask Owen Wilson’s character from Midnight in Paris.) Take, for instance, a break-up, a divorce or a death; these are very concrete signs that life pushes forward indifferently, and there are some things you can’t get back. And it’s ok to grieve what has been lost. That is probably the healthiest and most honest way to handle tragedy. But to romanticize the past as the best life will ever be paints the present like a prison and the future as absent of hope.

 

Scott Hansen, a San Francisco artist who creates music under the moniker Tycho, released a breath-taking instrumental record last year called Dive. (Big thanks to Thrice’s Riley Breckenridge for the recommendation.) This is what Hansen had to say about the record: “Nostalgia is a common thread in my work, but this album wasn’t driven by that idea. I see these songs as artifacts from a future which might have more in common with our past than our present.”

 

I’m slowly learning (the hard way, more often than not) that life moves on and things change. People change. They walk in and out of your life, sometimes forever. And even if they remain, there may be no returning to what was once had. But just because you’ve lost one relationship doesn’t mean you can’t have a comparable one down the road with someone you meet tomorrow. While it is often easier to cling to the momentary comfort of the past, it is better to hope in the golden prospect of the future.

 

It’s no surprise that trying to go back is the biggest deterrent to moving forward. Living in the past is not living at all. It should be called “loitering in the past” (and if the past is anything like the parking lot of Baskin Robbins in San Juan Capistrano, loitering there may be punishable by a $250 fine. San Juan PD, you are unreasonable tyrants). The loss of an incredible past doesn’t necessarily produce a lesser future — unless you let it. If hindsight is 20-20, then nostalgia is 50-50, and the odds are in your hands.

 

Still living in a past relationship, ladies? Chase would be happy to help you escape that nostalgia. Email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu for details.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: You remind me of home… https://stanforddaily.com/2011/12/01/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-you-remind-me-of-home/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/12/01/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-you-remind-me-of-home/#respond Thu, 01 Dec 2011 08:27:08 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1052640 DO: Be Grateful.

DOO-DOO: Be Homeless.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: You remind me of home...There’s a line in the coming-of-age indie-flick, Garden State, when Zach Braff’s character says, “You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of a sudden, even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone…You feel like you can never get it back. It’s like you feel homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist.” That brings me to this week’s advice:

 

DO: Be Grateful.

 

DOO-DOO: Be Homeless.

 

I’m not sure if it was a life-imitates-art-imitates-life sort of thing, but my first two years of college were pervaded by a strange sense of not homesickness, but homelessness and restlessness. Stanford was my new life, but I wasn’t about to call it home. And when I would return home for breaks, home just felt like a house where I kept the things from my past life. It was like my life was placed on pause, nothing I did at home would contribute to “the bigger picture;” there were no feelings of consequence or progress.

 

This led to a great deal of restlessness and discontent. When I was at Stanford, I just wanted to be in Orange County, and when I was there, I wanted to be anywhere but there. I was stuck living in the past bliss of nostalgia or the future hope of a place to call “home.”

 

Over the last two years, my concept of “home” has drastically changed — and it’s allowed me to be truly happy where I’m at in the present. The sense of security and belonging we call home isn’t a place we find or discover or reach in the distant future, it’s a feeling we create here and now, where we are with the people around us. Thanksgiving break was the perfect reminder for me. There are times when we all feel lonely and lost in the world, and I’ve found that the best remedy is gratitude — true appreciation for the people that have shaped our lives. It may help to sit down and remind yourself where you belong and what you call home.

 

For me, home is Clint having the Deathly Hollows tattooed on his calf forever, and Lauren knowing “I’ll be at your house in 15,” means “I’ll be at your house in an hour.” It’s David still saying “Yo Yo Yo!” upon entering every room, and Colton still insisting that his virtual girlfriend exists (well then, how come we’ve never met her?). Home is how it somehow makes sense that Matt got disqualified from a pancake-eating contest…for eating too many pancakes.

 

Home is the way Brett still has an unshakable faith in the 18-year-old Green Van, and the way Hilary cares less about the Cal-Stanford rivalry than even I do. It’s how Greg had the hardest year of his life and still strengthens the people around him. And how Nick and I spent the winter writing songs about getting better (and if we’re being honest, we’re getting there.) It’s Doug having the dumb idea of biking to Berkeley from LA for no reason at all, and Sunny having the geniusidea of secretly following him to film how far he actually goes (he’ll probably make it.)

 

Home is Landon performing the sickest cover of “Skinny Love” I have ever seen (in the deepest v-neck I have ever seen). It’s Jill knowing some things never do change. It’s how Coleman used to get teased for being straight-edge and now gets teased for not being straight-edge, and how Michael still won’t let me ride his horse (this is a 100-percent literal statement and should not be taken figuratively in any way.) It’s how Garrett will go down in history as the funniest, nicest and most agreeable person ever (a narrow finish over Will, who used to be Bill in high school), and how Clark knows more about more things than you do (but seriously, he does.)

 

Home is how Arya knows anything I write here wouldn’t do him justice, and that Carson still is…and will forever be…Carson. It’s how Hayden is going to be super famous some day, and it won’t change a thing. It’s how we’re all counting down the days until Ian, Sam, Taylor, Lauren and Sarah come back to us in America (aka Amurrricccaaaaa!)

 

No doubt, home is something different for each of you. But there’s a strange confidence and joy in life when you remember you always have a home to return to, no matter where you go. And better yet, you can create one right where you are.

 

If you’re really stuck in trying to find a new home, Chase’s bed might be a great place to start. Email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu for directions.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: How to be in a movie https://stanforddaily.com/2011/11/17/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-how-to-be-in-a-movie/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/11/17/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-how-to-be-in-a-movie/#respond Thu, 17 Nov 2011 08:27:46 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1051876 DO: Live life like a movie.

DOO-DOO: Live life like a Lifetime movie...

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: How to be in a movieI recently experienced the uncomfortable situation of being forced to watch a below-average romantic comedy with a girl who had an above-average love and enthusiasm for below-average romantic comedies. (I stress, it was not a date.) As the credits rolled, she shouted, “Ah! I wish my life were like a movie!” Maybe it was because I’m slowly turning into an elitist movie snob, or maybe it’s because I had just been subjected to watching the art of cinema be viciously tortured onscreen for the last 96 minutes, but my first thought was, “No, you absolutely do not.” That brings me to today’s advice…

DO: Live life like a movie.

DOO-DOO: Live life like a Lifetime movie…

Everyone wants the happy movie ending, but everyone seems to selectively forget the hour or two of hard work and pain and failure that the character endures leading up to the resolution. For the girl to get to make out with Ryan Gosling in the rain (or whatever actor doing whatever action in whatever manifestation of weather is hot stuff right now), she has to go through the pain of being left at the altar or cheated on by her fiancé with her mother (I swear, I could write 50 romantic comedies in a week.)

We want the success without the failures, the excitement without heartbreak, results without time or effort, self-awareness without honesty, redemption without humility, adventure without commitment, discovery without having to forget what we know, glory without being the underdog, intimacy without vulnerability and fundamental change without admitting our failure or relinquishing control.

But how many movies do you know of in which the protagonist is always happy and behaves well and never gets in above his or her head? Or where the team that wins the championship doesn’t have to work hard or overcome any obstacles? Or the guy gets the girl and the movie is just watching them live happily ever after?

None. (Because those movies would suck and never get made.) And that’s because the value of the resolution is wrapped up in the failures. It’s the passion and perseverance that we admire, and that ultimately leads to fulfillment. It’s when the stakes get raised from mere comfort to ultimate survival that we truly invest in the character; when their reward becomes our reward; when it becomes worthwhile.

I believe our life would be more exciting and fulfilling if it were lived more like a movie. But it requires us to be willing to risk everything. There’s a scene at the beginning of the iconic 80s movie “Say Anything” (it’s the guy-in-a-trenchcoat-holding-up-a-boombox movie) when John Cusack’s lovable character responds to a friend deterring him from chasing after a girl for fear he’ll get hurt by shouting, “I want to get hurt!” There’s “Inception,” in which Leonardo DiCaprio’s character is willing to risk everything for what he values as most worthy — reunion with his children. He is willing to enter into an adventure knowing he is fully committed and can never opt out.

There are huge lessons we can learn from the silver screen. We need to embrace vulnerability, take bold risks and be brutally honest with ourselves and others. It’s a strange paradox that fictional characters can be more real and honest with other fictional characters than we can be with each other. This is not just a Stanford thing or a college thing; it’s an everyone thing.

I think if we understood the value in failure, we wouldn’t kill ourselves so much to avoid it. Not to mention, there’s a value in true perseverance that would never be learned without failure. (“What do we do when we fall off the horse? We get back on!” “Sorry, Maury. I’m not a gymnast.” Name the Movie!) Movie characters are able to undergo fundamental changes when they are willing to admit their failure and humbly start anew. They find adventure when they don’t just accept, but embrace their situation. They find forgiveness and redemption when they are willing to admit their faults, and they find glory when they acknowledge their faults, yet continue fighting.

The best characters don’t make decisions based on what is safe. They become so enamored by a person or goal or ideal that they are willing to let go of everything they have to pursue it. Nothing worth loving is safe to love.
A truly captivating, influential and worthwhile life story requires risks and failures — in careers, in relationships and in conception of the self — and the higher the stakes, the better the story.

Have you seen the romantic comedy in which the newspaper columnist gets a date with a beautiful girl when she responds to a piece he wrote? Chase hasn’t either. You can change that with an email to ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

 

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Identity theft https://stanforddaily.com/2011/11/10/dos-and-doo-doos-identity-theft/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/11/10/dos-and-doo-doos-identity-theft/#comments Thu, 10 Nov 2011 08:27:37 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1051605 Today’s tip is guaranteed to make you cooler. Or maybe make you a hipster. Probably both.

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DO's and DOO-DOO's: Identity theftToday’s tip is guaranteed to make you cooler. Or maybe make you a hipster. Probably both.

DO: Listen to Childish Gambino.

DOO-DOO: Do The Cha-Cha Slide.

I’m usually not into rap, but I’ve been spinning the new Childish Gambino album all week. (When I say I’m not into rap, I mean I don’t know how to listen to it. I know you’re supposed to make an angry face, bob your head and drop some “uh’s” and “mmh’s” here and there, but I still look like an Orange County Asian Kid Trying To Be A White Kid Trying To Be A Black Kid while doing it.)

Childish Gambino is the rap moniker of actor-comedian Donald Glover, most famous for playing Troy on NBC’s Community and writing for NBC’s 30 Rock. (Ya, that’s right. Pop culture columns two weeks in a row. You can stop reading now, Grandma. Sorry about it.) I would highly recommend Glover’s commercial debut album, CAMP, to anyone that enjoys music and isn’t easily offended by offensive language, suggestive lyrics, racist and homophobic slurs, or tracks that will make you poke your roommate while he’s sleeping and say, “Yo, these beats iz tiiiiight!” (In Glover’s defense, most of the derogatory titles are satirically directed toward himself.)

Thematically, the album is about searching for identity. Glover, a black rapper, dishes about the difficulties of not belonging; being “too white” for the black community, but still not being white. He raps, “No live shows, cause I can’t find sponsors/ For the only black kid at a Sufjan concert.” Furthermore, he refers to himself as “the only white rapper who’s allowed to say the n-word.”

There’s also the element of Glover being a crossover act. While he’s been releasing music for the last three years, he fears people view his music as a secondary gimmick to compliment his primary role as a comedian (As for comedian, he has a hilarious bit about how he had to change his Twitter name from @DonGlover because people kept calling him “Dong Lover.”) He wants to be respected as a musician, and not as a gimmick, saying “I used to get more laughs when I got laughed at/ Oh you got a mixtape? ‘That’s fantastic.’”

And I can relate with the fundamental question of identity; the difficulty in negotiating “How People Perceive Me” against “How I Want To Be Perceived” against “Who I Actually Am.” More often than not, how I want to be perceived by others is a direct response to my fear of how others perceive me, and neither honestly depicts who I am.

I don’t own Stanford clothes. No sweatshirts, no shirts, no nothing. (And not just because it’s #NoShirtNovember.) Pre-admission to Stanford, I remember seeing students from elite colleges strutting around in their school paraphernalia acting like snobby, elitist ____________. (It’s a mad-lib. Feel free to write in your best, nastiest derogatory word in the comments section online. Winner gets a prize!)

So I don’t wear Stanford clothes for fear people will think I’m a snobby, elitist [insert same word]. Is it illogical? Probably. Does the logic fall apart even more once I’m on campus surrounded by thousands of (mostly) humble and kind-hearted people? Definitely.

It’s dangerous to allow your fears and desires dictate who you are. If you place your identity in being successful, you’ll hold onto success like it’s your life (because in a way it is now.) You may start only seeing people as obstacles to reaching your goal or as stepping stones to boost you higher. It works for anything. If you place your identity in beauty or good looks, you’ll start doing everything to keep it (until you’re a plastic Botox’d vegetable owned by Armani.) Worse, you start valuing others for how they fit into your shallow scale of worth.

I have a deep desire to be creative and rebellious–to be an individual–which is not bad in itself. But when I refuse to do the Cha-Cha Slide dance when the song comes on because “I’m an individual” and don’t want to dance like everyone else, then it becomes prideful and stupid. (However, I also think it’s a brainwashing tool by the government to make humans accustomed to taking orders from robots.)

Donald Glover raps about how he can get any girl he wants (like every other rapper ever does). But he gets really vulnerable when he admits that after whatever sexual conquest with whatever girl, he never gets what he really wants. The problem with rooting our identity in our fears or our desires is that both eventually fracture and fall away. And then who is left?

Chase is happy to make you even more connected to pop culture. Just email him at ninjaish “at” Stanford “dot” edu.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Spoiler Alert: Everything turns out great https://stanforddaily.com/2011/11/03/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-spoiler-alert-everything-turns-out-great/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/11/03/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-spoiler-alert-everything-turns-out-great/#comments Thu, 03 Nov 2011 07:27:30 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1051401 DO: Google “Fred Armisen Commencement Speech.”

DOO-DOO: Not watch the video that comes up.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Spoiler Alert: Everything turns out greatToday’s advice is especially great because it gives you a reason to procrastinate on that midterm paper you’ve been working on.

DO: Google “Fred Armisen Commencement Speech.”

DOO-DOO: Not watch the video that comes up.

I recently watched a commencement speech delivered by Fred Armisen at Oregon Episcopal High School this past June. Fred Armisen is a comedian known for his roles on “Saturday Night Live” and “Portlandia” and is famous for being the most ethnically ambiguous person of all time. (Seriously, he’s played everyone from President Obama to Steve Jobs to Saddam Hussein to Nooni the Swedish husband of Nuni to a giggly Japanese schoolgirl to the glasses kid from Glee.)

If you’ve ever given a speech in public, you understand the difficult necessity of presenting virtuous substance in an entertaining and thought-provoking manner. Too much funny, and no one knows what you’re trying to say. Too much serious, and no one cares what you’re trying to say. (My high school graduation speech fell into the former, littered with short-people jokes and an extended reading and analysis of the song “I’m On A Boat” by The Lonely Island, feat. T-Pain.)

Armisen did a great job captivating the audience with advice and well-placed humor, but still managed to carry a bold thesis with his speech. “My message to you is this: no matter what happens, everything turns out great. I promise you. It all turns out great.” I wondered how responsible it was to tell high school seniors that. Sure, it sounds comforting and encouraging and gives that warm, happy millions-of-fireflies-let-loose-in-your-chest sort of feeling, but does it really help prepare them for real life? And most importantly, is it true?

It almost seems arrogant and self-absorbed. Oh sure, the successful comedian who made it to the big times is assuring me that everything will work out great. (It bugged me the way it bugs me when incredible singers assure people that “anyone can sing.”) But then Armisen continued on with a brief history of his life. He got rejected from NYU’s film school and ended up going to a small visual arts school, which changed the way he perceived art. He dropped out of that school to play drums in a band that watched so many other bands get their big break while he was stuck playing empty clubs.

As a diversion to his struggling music career and seemingly unattainable dreams, he began doing stand-up comedy…and it all turned out great.

I think I agree with Armisen. No matter what happens, everything turns out great. It is true if we allow it to be true. But I think it requires a shift in philosophy. So often we are concerned with where we are going in life and less concerned with whom we are becoming. (I don’t know if it’s who or whom in that last sentence, but the green squiggly on the screen went away with “whom.”)

There’s something commendable about desiring a specific goal and achieving it through dedication and perseverance. But we do ourselves a disservice if we are not open and willing to changing and re-evaluating what would be considered a worthy outcome for our lives. Tunnel vision that strips the definition of “great” down to one specific situation or scenario is doomed to failure from the start.

I dream of becoming a brilliant screenwriter, but the fact of the matter is that it may not happen for reasons beyond my control. No matter how talented or persistent I am and no matter how many dues I pay, the reality of the entertainment industry is that I may never get a break. But even if I can’t be a screenwriter in Hollywood, I’ll always be something to someone somewhere. Maybe a husband or a father or a neighbor or a son — whatever the case, there will always be a reality in front of me that deserves my attention and appreciation.

What would happen if instead of answering “a screenwriter,” I completed the statement “In 10 years, it would be great if I could be…” with character attributes? It would be great if I could be generous. Or patient. Appreciative. Loyal. Forgiving. Encouraging. Loving. Joyful. (Taller.) These are all things that I can control; I can actively and intentionally take steps towards becoming them every day (except the taller part. There’s nothing I can do about that…according to 50,000,000 Google search results.)

Things never go according to plan. Your future will never be perfect. But if you concern yourself less with what you’ll be in the future and more with how you’ll be in the future, then no matter what happens, I promise you, everything will turn out great.

But seriously, Chase really wants to get taller. Email him with tips at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: I am America, but I need to not be https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/27/1051135/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/27/1051135/#respond Thu, 27 Oct 2011 07:27:50 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1051135 DO: Love America.

DOO-DOO: Be America.

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Another Thursday, another set of hot tips. DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: I am America, but I need to not beDO: Love America. DOO-DOO: Be America.

A couple nights ago, my roommate and I got into a 2 a.m. philosophical discussion/debate/passive-aggressive argument about whether it was okay for America to be culturally isolated. We were talking about how Americans are less prone to discover and appreciate music from other cultures. (This entire article will be written in generalizations, so if you are American and are going to take offense, please do so generally.) People halfway across the world appreciate and emulate American songs, films and political leaders, but most Americans would fail a test of global culture. We were trying to determine if this global ignorance was a bad thing.

I was presenting arguments about the social, economic, technological, political, geographical and pretty much every other “-ical” differences between the United States and other countries. I was making sure to acknowledge our influential power and cultural independence. (I think, sadly, I used the argument, “It’s like millions of people choosing to follow Brad Pitt on Twitter. You can’t expect him to follow all of them back.”)

Ultimately we ran circles around the argument. He was presenting well-prepared and reasonable arguments. In return, I was Stephen Colbert-ing him to oblivion. Colbert-ing is my usual form of argumentation, in which I make claims so preposterous that no one knows if I’m intentionally being ridiculous for satirical purposes or if I’m just a plain idiot. And when I say no one knows, I mean no one. Not even me.

We eventually settled on the conclusion that most Americans don’t find value in exploring and understanding other cultures because America has been culturally independent for the last 200-odd years. We’ve either been a world juggernaut, or we’ve been left alone. Our music, film and sports industries haven’t needed a foreign outlet to be sustainable.

European countries know the importance of appreciating other cultures because they’ve seen and participated in the shifts in global power and have been forced to adapt and widen their understanding of art and cultural worth. America has yet to depend on another country’s culture. We’ve grown into arrogant elitists of cultural convenience.

Here’s an analogy. Say there’s a football team that has gone the last two seasons undefeated. They’ve dominated every team in the league in every game. Now, it makes sense that every other team is going to be studying their strategy, trying to pick up whatever is working. But is the dominant team going to spend its time trying to understand what all the losing teams are doing? Probably not. They will most likely settle on what is working for them.

And is that a bad thing? Yes and no. No in that it is not illegal-bad or unethical-bad. The league is not going to fine them for not branching out. But yes, it is bad in that it is a shame for the team. While they are dominant having mastered their specific style of play, they would be unstoppable if they could master other styles as well. It’s a shame that they’ve grown so complacent that their pride doesn’t allow them to be even better and more diverse.

This team will never understand the need to diversify and learn other strategies — until they lose. Until they are no longer dominant, independent and capable. Until they are humbled.

It’s the same thing with America. Once China takes over the world (because everyone keeps telling me it will — I hope it hasn’t already happened yet, because I still prefer regular checkers to Chinese checkers), you can bet more Americans will be learning Chinese for business, which will trickle into our political, educational and social lives. We will understand the value of a different culture out of necessity.

And it’s the same for Stanford students. For so many of us, we are the America of our own lives. Everything I know and value is because it is convenient for me. I’m not willing to take the time to learn about someone else’s culture or religion or background or personal history or whatever it is because I’m doing just fine on my own. Now, is this a bad thing? I’m not going to go to jail for not appreciating a certain culture. But it would be a shame to be that wrapped up in myself.

I think we could all serve to be humbled a bit; to find appreciation and value in the people and things that are not our own.

Chase would like to serve you a nice slice of humble pie. (You know, maybe after a nice dinner?) Email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu to set up a time.

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Breaking the Stanford Bubble! https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/20/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-breaking-the-stanford-bubble/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/20/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-breaking-the-stanford-bubble/#respond Thu, 20 Oct 2011 07:28:19 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1050910 Here’s this week’s hot advice!

DO: Break the Stanford Bubble.

DOO-DOO: Poop in someone else’s toilet...

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DO’s and DOO-DOO’s: Breaking the Stanford Bubble!Here’s this week’s hot advice!

DO: Break the Stanford Bubble.

DOO-DOO: Poop in someone else’s toilet…

I trekked across the Bay to spend a night in the fascinating world of Berkeley last weekend. Now before you sharpie “traitor” over my face, burn the newspaper and piss on the ashes (I’m not sure what the equivalent of disrespectful vandalism would be for Internet readers. Maybe turn me into a “WTF?!?!” gif?), please allow me to make my view of Berkeley perfectly clear. I hate the school of Berkeley, but I rather enjoy the city of Berkeley. (To be honest, I don’t really hate Berkeley minus the unspeakable 2009 Big Game. But I am trying to encourage a healthy rivalry. So…suck it, Cal.)

Some of my high school friends from the L.A. area had traveled up for USC’s Weekender game against Cal, so I hopped on CalTrain to BART for a mini reunion. (You may be wondering where my reluctant cheering landed for such a game, considering I have an honest dislike for all things USC. I was cheering for some anomaly in our logical universe to emerge, allowing both teams to lose. The same thing I cheer for whenever the Yankees play the Red Sox.)

We had a party at my friend’s house off campus, and it was extremely enjoyable. I got to catch up with old friends. I got to meet boat people from all over California who were there for some giant sailing race called a “regatta.” I mistook regatta for ricotta, so when they kept saying, “I drove here from San Diego for the regatta,” I kept looking around the house for some amazing Italian cheese that was apparently worth a seven-hour drive.

But the highlight of my night was hands-down getting to crack the case of The Poop Intruders (aka the Dookie Duo)! (Those of you that have emailed me complaining about the lack of poop jokes in a column titled “Doo-Doo’s,” well, this dump’s for you.) Apparently two girls had drunkenly broken into the Cal women’s soccer team’s house next door (while they were inside), locked the soccer team out of their own bathroom and then escaped out the window to find the refuge of anonymity in our party filled with random boat people.

The soccer girls were furious and threatened to call the cops on the party if the situation wasn’t rectified (more like rectum-fied…lolz!). A few of us went back to their house with the intent of climbing back through the window and unlocking the door, hoping that would be the end of things. But once in the bathroom, shit hit the fan. Literally. (Just kidding, not literally. But that would’ve been awesome.) The two intruders had left a message…in the form of a rather large dookie floating in the middle of the bowl. A senseless crime? Perhaps. A scent-less crime? By no means.

The party became a witch-hunt. My friends and I had some fun popping up in various areas around the room and proudly proclaiming in our best Spartacus voice, “I am the pooper!” The whole ordeal turned into a bizarre and unforgettable night, and it only could have happened because of my journey to Berkeley.

One of the best ways to get the most out of your Stanford experience is to get away from Stanford. (It’s paradoxical, so it must be true!) Get off campus, if possible, on a regular basis.

“But, Chase, there’s always something going on here. I love it here. Why would I want to leave?” Because Stanford is not the real world. Part of the college experience is preparing for the real world, and this is not the real world. Minimum wage isn’t eleven dollars an hour. There isn’t as much appreciation or tolerance for diversity. There are people that may have never heard of your major (I’m looking at you, Symbolic Systems). The real world isn’t seen through cardinal-colored glasses.

But the real world is a lot more interesting. There’s a Stanford bubble that we are well aware of. When I go to shows in San Francisco once a month, there’s an emo/hardcore music bubble to explore. There’s another at my church in Menlo Park every Sunday. And another down south at UC-Santa Cruz. There’s an entire exciting world to explore and interesting people to meet, but it requires getting away from Stanford.

Most of us are here at Stanford because we intend to change the world in some way or another, but that requires being part of that world. That requires breaking the Stanford Bubble.

If you need a reason or excuse to get off campus (especially if you’re a cute girl and want to get dinner), email Chase at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Do’s and Doo-Doo’s: How to be an amazing quitter https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/13/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-how-to-be-an-amazing-quitter/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/13/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-how-to-be-an-amazing-quitter/#respond Thu, 13 Oct 2011 07:28:20 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1050680 DO: Be a quitter.

DOO-DOO: Try to do everything.

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Do’s and Doo-Doo’s: How to be an amazing quitterHere it comes: that blast of advice that’s surely guaranteed to brighten your Thursday.

DO: Be a quitter.

DOO-DOO: Try to do everything.

I’ve been working at a clothing store at the Stanford Shopping Mall for the last three weeks. (I won’t say which one, because that would start us down a path that inevitably leads to “Sorry, I can’t get you a discount.”) I’ve loved working with the staff and managers there, but the job definitely has its difficulties. I’ve had to learn colors. While I’ve mastered the standard Crayola eight pack, most of the female customers are operating with the deluxe 256 pack. (Them: “Excuse me, this dress is violet, and we were looking for it in periwinkle.” Me: “Uh…it looks purple. But I’ll go look for…a different purple.”)

Women’s clothing in general is confusing. A tunic is a girl dress-shirt-combo-thingy, but, despite the name, it looks nothing like what Link wears in The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. (Confusing, I know.) And I still don’t know what a “camisole” is, but I do know that I don’t know how to fold them correctly.

The hours are difficult. If you asked me to make a list of my ideal ways to spend a Tuesday morning, it would be multiple sentences with the words “bed” and “sleep” rearranged. What would not make the cut is “biking in the rain at 6:05 in the morning to the Stanford Shopping Mall to fold and re-fold shirts in a back room for eight dollars an hour and ultimately getting in trouble for being late.” (I showed up to work at 6:15 in the morning, and I was late. I didn’t even know that was possible.)

But the hardest thing about working in retail so far has been quitting.

And I don’t say this in the endearing, “I can’t quit, I just love it so much!” way, but more in the “quitting cigarettes” sort of way. Like, I can’t. The job was clearly eating away at me. I had eight hours between my Monday night and Tuesday morning shift to do all of my homework and try to fit in a (Stanford) night’s sleep. I spent most of my Saturday “looking busy” on the sales floor rather than catching up on school or being a regular college kid. But something in me would not let me quit the job.

Every time I thought about quitting (which is a gazillion times while folding shirts for eight hours), all of these voices appeared in my head to talk me out of it. “You’re just being weak. Plenty of other college kids are working while going to school.” “Tough it out. You just need to prioritize your time better.” “You need to make money. Don’t be a quitter.” I kept buying into these voices.

The majority of students on campus are overcommitted, and we come to view it as a good thing. “Overwhelmed” is synonymous with “ambitious” or “hard working,” and taking time to rest is treated as barely a step up from failure and defeat. Due to technological advances and an increasingly competitive job market, our generation is working longer hours than most others in history; and we at Stanford are right smack in the middle of it. We work as if we have no human limitations, pushing through the exhaustion and anxiety with sheer willpower. And rather than telling each other to slow down and take care of ourselves, we praise each other with awe-filled “how-do-you-do-it” faces.

I am horrible about this, and consequently, I burn out or spread myself too thin far too often. Sometimes I try to do everything to ensure I don’t miss out on anything: the Fear Of Missing Out (someone somewhere called it “FOMO,” which makes it sound legit.) Sometimes it is out of pride. I see others doing everything, and I need to prove to myself that I am just as capable (or more). Sometimes it is just a simple case of overachieving and people-pleasing. No matter the reason, I burn myself out and end up too exhausted or too anxious about the future to live in and enjoy the present.

It’s impossible for me to do and be everything to everyone all the time, so I need to stop pretending like I can. We are all people with physical, mental and emotional limitations. We need to stop telling ourselves that this is a bad thing. Say no every once in a while (break the golden rule of improv). Take some time to restore your body and soul. Sometimes, it’s okay to be a quitter.

Before you decide to relax, you should email Chase at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu.

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Do’s and Doo-Doo’s: Discovering what is enough https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/06/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-discovering-what-is-enough/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/10/06/do%e2%80%99s-and-doo-doo%e2%80%99s-discovering-what-is-enough/#comments Thu, 06 Oct 2011 07:27:39 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1050420 I think there is a similar mindset at Stanford, a campus full of overachievers so competent at overachieving that we make it look like regular achieving. We wrap our identity and our worth in our accomplishments. “It’s not enough to just be a doctor, I need to be going to the number one medical school.” “It’s not enough to just be a student, I need to be starting dozens of clubs while juggling 20 units and a dance team.” Nobody is saying this out loud, but everyone is saying this in one way or another.

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Do’s and Doo-Doo’s: Discovering what is enoughHey Stanford! Here’s some more pseudo-advice to help you get through your Thursday!

DO: Be satisfied and happy.

DOO-DOO: Climb the “ladder of success” to be satisfied and happy.

I love telling people I was a pole-vaulter in high school. There is something about watching the immediate “I call bullshit” laugh slowly fade into a hesitant, skeptical “Oh, I think he might be serious” look and eventually settle in a social squirm of the body and tongue. “That’s surprising — wait, not surprising. Well it’s not surprising that you were a pole-vaulter, just that — pole vaulting, huh? That’s cool…I’m going to leave now.”

What I don’t tell them is that I wasn’t a very good pole-vaulter at all. The only reason I was on the team was because it was a “no-cuts” team. Apparently there’s no track event where even a 5-foot, 100-pound noodle of a person has a disadvantage.

It wasn’t just physical stature that kept me from being a star athlete. I lacked the attitude as well (along with everything else that makes someone a star athlete). All the best athletes have this no-nonsense, never-satisfied mentality that drives them to the highest level of success. I don’t know what you would classify my specific mentality as, but I got disqualified from competition for wearing a cape. (Twice).

I had friends on the team who were real track stars. They were the athletes that got to stand on the podium in the middle of the field at the end of the track meet. They were the athletes that got their pictures in the paper. They were the athletes that every parent was secretly watching when they were supposed to be videotaping their own kid.

But more often than not, they were the athletes that left every meet disappointed and discontent. No matter how fast they ran, they could always go faster. No matter how high they jumped, the bar would always be set higher. Winning the race, clearing the bar or wearing the gold was no longer enough.

I think there is a similar mindset at Stanford, a campus full of overachievers so competent at overachieving that we make it look like regular achieving. We wrap our identity and our worth in our accomplishments.

“It’s not enough to just be a doctor, I need to be going to the number one medical school.” “It’s not enough to just be a student, I need to be starting dozens of clubs while juggling 20 units and a dance team.” Nobody is saying this out loud, but everyone is saying this in one way or another.

This raises the most important question anyone will ever ask you. (Bold. Arrogant. Probably incorrect, but now you’re paying attention.) What is enough? What accomplishment or status, once yours, will leave you completely satisfied? If you don’t know what is enough, you’ll never know when you reach it.

I’m learning that it is a dangerous myth to believe ultimate satisfaction exists at the top of the ladder of success. It’s a dangerous myth to believe there is a top to reach.

I spent my first week this quarter planning out my classes so I could graduate two quarters early. I thought that the sooner I got out of Stanford, the sooner I could get to LA and start working in the film industry. Once I had a job or sold a script, I would be happy; that would be enough. And in that first week, I was completely miserable. I can’t see the future, but I can only imagine that even if everything went as planned and I reached that level of “enough,” it would not be enough.

The more I focused on everything I hadn’t accomplished, the smaller and more worthless I felt. The more I viewed contentment and satisfaction as something to be attained in the future, the less I was able to see it around me in the present. From personal experience, I’ve learned that the quickest way to curb the unquenchable thirst for success is with gratitude and humility. Recently, I’ve been trying to focus and be thankful for the things I have and the opportunities I’ve been given. When I lose sight of what I have, I get bogged down by everything I don’t have. But when I focus on what I already have, I find it tends to be enough.

I never really cared how well I did in track, and I loved every second of it.

If you sucked at sports too, then why not email Chase at ninjaish(at)stanford.edu?

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Do’s and Doo-Doo’s: “Hooking up” with friends https://stanforddaily.com/2011/09/29/dos-and-doo-doos-hooking-up-with-friends/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/09/29/dos-and-doo-doos-hooking-up-with-friends/#comments Thu, 29 Sep 2011 07:28:09 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1050196 Alright, friends. I wanted to give you a little advice to help you get through an always-awkward first week of classes. Do: Get to know your friends. Doo-Doo: “Hook up” with your friends.

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Do's and Doo-Doo's: "Hooking up" with friendsAlright, friends. I wanted to give you a little advice to help you get through an always-awkward first week of classes. Do: Get to know your friends. Doo-Doo: “Hook up” with your friends.

We all know first impressions and interactions with new housemates can be a quick indicator of the future type and quality of relationship you will have.

So naturally I was excited when the super attractive girl down the hall popped into my room to ask if I had a screwdriver. While I was empty-handed in the tool department (I bet there’s a self-deprecating joke in there somewhere), I did contribute some witty banter and navigated the standard “how was your summer?” questions (with impressive beginning-of-the-year enthusiasm). After the laughter and conversation subsided, I extended my hand and said all smooth-like, “By the way, I don’t think we’ve met yet. My name’s Chase.” It was soooo smooth.

She batted her eyes, blushed a bit and with her mouth slightly ajar responded, “Are you [cuss]ing serious! [Cuss] you Chase!” Not so smooth.

It turns out I had spent my entire freshman year on Frosh Council with this girl — an entire year — and had forgotten her name. Not so smooth at all. After the embarrassment withdrew from my face and the feeling of being a complete asshole settled firmly into the pit of my stomach, I apologized and promised I would make it up to her. (Phase one of making it up to her, calling her “super attractive” in a school-wide publication. Smooth.)

I’m learning there’s a difference between knowing people and really knowing people. It’s one thing to ask, “What’s your major?” to fill small talk. It’s another to ask, “Why do you want to major in that?” because you really want to get to know a person. And when others ask how you’re doing, you’re allowed to answer something other than, “Pretty good, you?”

There’s a difference between loving people and loving yourself through people. In my two years at Stanford, I’ve primarily been guilty of the latter. I was making efforts to befriend people, but not to be a good friend. It was so I could feel comfortable. I could stop into rooms and have surface-level conversations. I could go to parties with people and then recount all the shenanigans the next morning at brunch. I was getting to know people so that I wouldn’t feel alone at Stanford, and once they stopped serving that purpose, they were replaced. Gone. Forgotten.

They say there’s no dating culture at Stanford. They say people don’t have time to date. The underlying statement is that people don’t have the time or energy to spare from preparing for school and careers to spend loving or caring about another person. The result is “harmless hook-ups,” which is rarely loving another person and more often than not loving yourself through another person.

But back to business; this is an article on friendship, not dating. (You win again, rambling ADD brain.) I am realizing how selfish I have been with my friendships. Rather than spending time and energy genuinely getting to know people, I have settled for “hooking up” with friends — and by that I mean developing and maintaining friendships only when it is comfortable and convenient for me. I have friends who I call when I want to talk music, go to the gym, play sports or borrow a car. But that is often the extent of it. Our paths are merely intersecting, rather than running parallel to each other (for you techies out there. I think that makes sense.)

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to sacrifice the time I dedicate to truly important things (sleeping through class, deleting spam emails, watching YouTube videos, sending spam emails, etc…).Maybe I’m afraid of depending on someone for fear they will let me down (like the Angels this season — another lonely postseason October ahead). Maybe I’m afraid of those friends getting too close to me and realizing that I’m not the put-together Stanford student I work so hard to display. I don’t know. Maybe I should read some Freud. I bet he could diagnose me and figure it out. (On second thought, let’s not go there.)

So I’ve resolved to do my best to truly love the people around me, for their sake. I don’t know about you. Maybe you’re getting an A+ in Friendship and you just think I suck. Maybe you feel betrayed because you expected a crazy “Friends With Benefits” or “No Strings Attached” story and wound up with a whiny, emo confessional about friendship. But maybe it’s something for you to think about.

If you have embarrassing forgetting people’s name stories, email Chase at ninjaish”at”stanford.edu.

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Dos and Doo-Doos: Adjusting to college life https://stanforddaily.com/2011/09/20/dos-and-doo-doos-adjusting-to-college-life/ https://stanforddaily.com/2011/09/20/dos-and-doo-doos-adjusting-to-college-life/#respond Tue, 20 Sep 2011 12:29:34 +0000 https://stanforddaily.com/?p=1050025 This is the closest thing to an advice column you'll see in The Daily. Unfortunately, it is not written by a doctor or therapist but by a guy that applied for a column mainly to see the word "Doo-Doo" put into print on a weekly basis ... so good luck with that.

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Dos and Doo-Doos: Adjusting to college lifeThis is the closest thing to an advice column you’ll see in The Daily. Unfortunately, it is not written by a doctor or therapist but by a guy that applied for a column mainly to see the word “Doo-Doo” put into print on a weekly basis … so good luck with that.

The DOs are things you should do, and the DOO-DOOs are things you should not do. It’s not rocket science — just poop jokes.

Joining (or avoiding) clubs, teams, etc.
You will have tons of people badgering you about joining their clubs or activities every time you bike through White Plaza. No matter how nice and enthusiastic they are, you will feel like they’re just handing you a flyer saying, “Here, you throw this away.”

DO: Keep an open mind to new experiences. Follow up with what interests you, even if your parents don’t understand why they’re paying $50,000 a year for you to dig up rocks … or something else that’s weird and makes for a good example. Juggling?
DOO-DOO: Sign up your roommate’s email on every spreadsheet and clipboard in sight. While it will be objectively hilarious when he gets 50 emails a week letting him know that the Stanford Dance: Liquid Flow Performance has been moved to Roble Gym, he will not think so. If he’s anything like my freshman roommate, he will retaliate by “accidentally” drawing phallic symbols on you any chance he gets. “Sure Chase, I’ll help you paint your chest for the football game. Oh whoops, my bad, the ‘S’ in ‘Go Stanford!’ accidentally looks like a penis.”

Finding your way around campus
Stanford is huge, there’s no doubt about it. According to (my edit yesterday of) Wikipedia, “Stanford University is so big that the moment Berkeley students set foot on campus, they pee their pants out of sheer intimidation.” Irregardless (which is not a real word), it can also be difficult for new Stanford students, even with their indisputably larger brain capacity.

DO: Download the campus map app. Find your way to all of your classrooms before the quarter starts so you won’t be late for class. Let’s face it: if you’re going to be more than 10 minutes late to IHUM lecture, you’re not going to IHUM lecture. You’re going back to sleep.
DOO-DOO: Let your roommate draw a map of the Stanford campus on your chest in Sharpie. Even if he claims you’ll be able to find your way around campus easier or that you’ll “look awesome, like that guy from ‘Prison Break,'” it is not true. First of all, it’s Sharpie; you won’t look cool lifting up your shirt at the bookstore to see how to get to the new Panda Express. Second of all, no matter how much he denies it, you both know he drew Lake Lag in the shape of a penis on purpose. It looks nothing like that.

Making friends
Friends are the building blocks of life. Without friends, we wouldn’t have the TV show “Friends,” and without the TV show “Friends,” I wouldn’t have my go-to question to ask girls on awkward first dates. (“Do you see me as more of a Joey or a Ross?” If she says Joey, then I’m set. If she says Ross, then we are definitely splitting that dinner check.) College can be the perfect setting to make incredible life-long friends.

DO: Try your best to love everyone, no matter how different they are. Just because you’re a dorky, white medical student doesn’t mean you can’t be best friends with a cocky, black surgeon and go on crazy adventures with your stuffed dog Rowdy (“Scrubs”). Just because you’re a passive, discontent, white-collar “everyman” doesn’t mean you can’t befriend an eccentric, self-assertive soap-maker and start secret underground fight clubs across the country until you realize you’re actually the same person (“Fight Club”). Just because you’re a strong, yet slightly neurotic woman doesn’t mean you can’t hate an egotistical jerk of a guy that actually turns out to be a kind of sensitive man when you get to know him, and by being forced to interact together for some slightly comical, yet predictable reason, you two work through your relational problems and eventually fall in love. (“Every Sandra Bullock Movie Ever”).
DOO-DOO: Confuse movies and television shows with real life. People will think you’re a freak and not want to be friends with you.

Chase also has some great album recommendations for you, so DO email him at ninjaish at stanford.edu.

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