Category: Uncategorized

Keep Your Space!

Well, we might be in one of the most convoluted liminal spaces of all time. 

“Brian, what’s a liminal space?”

Glad you asked. 

As this aptly named website explains, “A liminal space is the time between the ‘what was’ and the ‘next.’” It’s the threshold between where you were and where you’ll be In other words, we’re in a bunch of liminal spaces right now. We’re in the liminal space between leaving school for social distancing and coming back to school after social distancing (hopefully). Most of us are in the liminal space of getting into colleges and deciding which college to go to. As a country, we’re essentially in a liminal space between the presidential primaries and the general election.

A visual interpretation of a liminal space. Source: BetterHelp

The idea of liminal spaces first popped into my mind after listening to Michelle Kee, one of my speech competitors from Naperville Central, talk about them in her Informative speech. Usually, Informative Speaking rounds are rounds in which you can basically fall asleep, but her topic made me snap up immediately—it felt pertinent, relevant, and essential to any high school senior (and literally anybody) going through this crazy year. 

Often, liminal spaces arise after disappointment: it’s the space between getting rejected from your dream college and having to commit to another one, the space between losing a job and finding a new venture. Essentially, they’re the ultimate unknown, forcing you to reckon with what used to be and what could be next, with no guidance in between. They can either be a blessing, or, more often, a curse. 

Liminal spaces can be frightening, depressing, and, especially in this season of self-isolation and social distancing, lonely. That’s why it’s imperative that we take liminal spaces and regard them as opportunities, rather than an opportunity to sink into a deeper hole. As Psychology Today explains, if we take the time and use our resourcefulness to craft a future for ourselves, rather than waiting for the liminal space to resolve, we’ll end up better off. 

So, in that vein, I’ve decided to analyze our collective liminal spaces, and maybe come up with a few ways we’ll be able to improve ourselves during this time of uncertainty.

Liminal Space 1: College Decisions

The picture for “college” on Wikipedia. Source: Wikipedia

Congrats! By this time, pretty much all of you have received your college decisions, and I’m sure you got in somewhere. Even if it wasn’t your top choice, take solace in the fact that the best predictor of future success is your parent’s current wealth, so really, having the good fortune to live in Naperville or Lisle is a much better accomplishment than making any elite school anyway. 

If you are trying to decide which school to go to, this particular liminal space is a bit trickier to navigate this year. For one, pretty much every school in the world has cancelled their admitted student days, and flying in this environment to visit anyway is basically asking for Governors Andrew Cuomo and J.B. Pritzker to yell at you. 

So what can you do during this time? Well, more research can’t hurt. In my opinion, the best thing to do is to find a current student that goes to the school you’ve been admitted to, and fire away with the questions! Ask them about everything from academics to social life, and make sure you’re making the best decision for you and your future. You can also join the Class of 2024 Facebook group and Groupme chats (I’m sure you can find them) even if you haven’t committed, to see if the group of people you’ll be spending the next four years with are people you vibe with.

Liminal Space 2: Social Distancing

Our current reality. Source: Hillsborough Country

This is the new one. Every single class before us has experienced the liminal space between college decisions and committing, or acceptance and actually stepping foot on campus. No other class has experienced not being in school for so long. Sure, Naperville 203 says we’ll open up right back on April 8th, but CPS has already closed until late April, so are we really sure?

I’m sure all of you have already gotten into a quarantine routine so far, but if you feel like your use of this unique liminal space is making you stagnant and bored, maybe try a couple new things out.

First, try some at-home workouts! I know many of us are taking walks outside, but if you’re craving the gym, check out the BodyWeightFitness subreddit for some at home fitness routines! I’m currently on the Recommended Routine, which I daresay might be more work than actually going to the gym. 

Next, maybe read a book or two! My bookshelf is filled with books I haven’t touched and have been meaning to read, and I’ve finally been able to get through a couple of them. 

Finally, find a passion project! Maybe learn how to cook or bake a bit more, or get a bit better at League of Legends. Whatever you do, just keep making progress. That’s the best way to get something useful out of our liminal spaces.

Liminal Space 3: Presidential Elections

I had to sneak politics in somewhere. If you haven’t noticed, the Democratic primary campaign is basically over. Joe Biden is the presumptive nominee to take on President Trump. However, with the current COVID-19 situation, regular campaigning has basically ground to a halt, confining the campaigns to the internet. 

Youth turnout in elections is historically spotty, but I want to make a pitch for all of you to vote this November if you’re a citizen and are 18 by then. The future of our country depends on the choices the voters make, and without voting, we won’t have a say. 

For now, take this liminal space and do some research! Watch some virtual town halls, look up campaign platforms, and make the best decision come fall.

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We’re in uncharted territory right now. The most we can do is to make the best of it.

Saturdays are for Speaking (and Learning)

Two Saturdays ago, on February 22nd, I stepped out of a competitive speech round for the final time in my career. The speech itself was one of my favorites I’ve ever given (it was about a burgeoning feud between Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders), but stepping out of the round, I couldn’t help but feel a bit bittersweet. 

A few hours later, I earned my fourth IHSA state title, rounding out four amazing years in the speech and debate community, both within Illinois and outside of its borders. I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past week or so, and here are four lessons about life I’ve learned from four phenomenal years.

A picture of me outside the Peoria Civic Center after my last ever state tournament.

Lesson 1: Timing matters

As soon as he holds up the two, I need to transition into my last point.

In extemporaneous speaking (my event of choice), timing is everything. When you only have thirty minutes to craft a cohesive argument on literally the world’s biggest problems (I’ve come up with makeshift solutions for everything from climate change to civil wars halfway across the world), and a mere seven minutes to deliver that message, you’d best keep your eyes on the clock.

Fifteen minutes to prepare the speech; fifteen minutes to memorize it. One-and-a-half minutes for the introduction. 1:40 for each main point. Thirty seconds to conclude. 

Perfection.

Sometimes, timing falls outside your control. 

What if you’re the fifth (out of six) speaker, and the judge is already bored out of her mind, teetering on the brink between staying awake and nodding off? It is 8:00 on a Saturday morning, after all.

What if, even after racking your brain for a good five out of those fifteen minutes, you still can’t figure out what to say?

Whatever the case may be, there’s always a limit. Thirty minutes before prep ends. Two months and change before we graduate. Six months until we leave some of our friends forever.

Time is of the essence. Use it well.

Lesson 2: Your Voice is a Tool

“We need more women in extemp.”

The six extemporaneous speakers in the final round at state were all men—something a bit disheartening, considering the fact that all over the nation, women extempers proved their mettle at the highest level time and time again.

When it came time for me to give my state-winner performance, I knew it was something I had to address. On a whim, I decided to add in thirty extra seconds, completely ad-libbed, of the importance of more women competing in extemp, an event about the world around us all—after all, amidst the political strife of reproductive rights, family leave, and sexual harassment, extemp is more important to women than ever. 

 I had the confidence to shatter the norms of the state performance because I was confident in my own voice. Speech taught me that progress can come from everywhere and from anyone, that even as a straight man I can be an ally and advocate for causes that matter to me, from feminism to LGBTQ+ rights to racism to tax reform to climate change. 

You don’t have to be a speech champion (or even be in speech at all) to use your voice. Find a cause that matters and contribute to it. Go to the downtown climate strike, the Women’s March, a March for Our Lives. The future depends on it. 

(If you by any chance want to watch my final performance, the video of my last-ever extemp speech is below!)

Lesson 3: Privilege impacts everything

“Yeah so I was at Yale in September, Florida Blue Key in October, Glenbrooks in November, Nashville for MBA in January, and then I’m heading to Kentucky and Northwestern the week after for TOC in late April, before finally going to Milwaukee in May for Catholic Nationals.”

When I broke down the national tournaments I went to last year, one thing stood out: I went to a lot of tournaments in a lot of different states. In other words, I took a lot of plane rides. It goes without saying that plane rides aren’t cheap. And since I travelled nationally under Naperville North’s banner, but without the supervision of the team, I had to foot the bill for all of those trips. 

While I would have theoretically been able to compete at the highest level in Illinois without the economic privilege I was born under, there’s no chance I would have the opportunity to ply my trade nationally. Without the financial ability to seek out individual coaches, buy plane tickets, and pay registration fees, even the best speakers and debaters are unable to showcase their talent.

Unfortunately, it’s a lesson that extends everywhere, as perfectly exemplified by this Stephen Jay Gould quotation:

“I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops.”

 

Lesson 4: Let it Sink In

In the four weekends leading up to my final state tournament, I had a tournament every single Saturday. That meant five straight Saturdays consumed completely by current affairs and overused vocal cords. It also meant that my speech career came to an end at a breakneck pace—tournament after tournament, without enough time for me to really even take a breather and reflect.

Now that it’s been a week or so, I’ve come away with an intense gratitude for my four years competing in this wonderful activity. 

As some of you already know, I’ve written personalized thank-yous, a few sentences for nearly everybody I’ve met on the circuit, both in Illinois and nationally, to show my appreciation for the impact they had on my life. I consider it the best way to show my appreciation, and the time it took to write them is also coincidentally why this blog post is so late (sorry, Mrs. Trowbridge).

Wherever you are, and whatever you do, I hope you all remember to thank those who have helped you, and remain grateful for the opportunities you have.

Four years fly by fast, but the memories? They’ll stay forever.

RedUcE, rEUse, reCycLe

I’m sorry, but buying a reusable metal straw will not save the planet. 

After some research, I’ve come to the dreary conclusion that, contrary to popular belief, individual effort to reduce one’s carbon footprint has little impact on the fight against climate change.

Now, let me be clear. I’m not just talking about slacktivism, like signing an online petition to provide support for Australia’s firefighters or posting misleading photos about the Amazon wildfires to garner public support. It’s obvious that those sorts of actions have little to no impact when it comes to any sort of public issue, much less a global catastrophe on the scale of the climate crisis.

I’m talking about actions that most people think will help our planet’s environmental position: eating less meat, taking shorter showers, and, of course, ditching the notorious plastic straw.

How much does banning these things help, anyway? Credit: Eater Chicago

After all, the U.S. produces over 10 million barrels of oil a day; last year, the world released 43.1 billion tons of carbon dioxide into the air. We’re on course to barrel past the Paris Climate Accord target of 1.5 °C warming, and a future where we hit 3 °C or even 4 °C warming—leading to mass drought and vast swaths of uninhabitable land the world over—isn’t inconceivable. 

Those are staggering statistics. 

Even more striking? One, two, or even 500,000 people changing their lifestyles to live entirely carbon-neutral lives wouldn’t make a dent in those numbers. 

I know what you’re thinking. 

“Brian, you’re literally a pescetarian because of environmental concerns, and now you’re telling us it doesn’t matter? What’s your deal?”

First of all, I’d prefer you use the term “transitioning vegetarian.” I’ll get there in college, I promise!

Second, I’m not saying that individuals shouldn’t live a more sustainable lifestyle. By all means, eat less meat, buy less fast fashion, and use less plastic. Any individual contribution, no matter how small, is a step in the right direction—at the very least, it helps us avoid a defeatist mentality that’s sure to prevent any meaningful climate action.

What I’m saying is that shifting responsibility for the climate crisis away from institutions and onto individual shoulders is an attitude that’s foolhardy at best and disastrous at worst. 

As a piece of anecdotal evidence, whenever I talk about the environment or climate change in class, from elementary school to senior year, the discussion has always revolved around the steps we as individuals can take to mitigate the effects. 

“We can use LED light bulbs instead of those old CFLs.”

“Make sure to turn off the TV when you leave the house!”

“REduCe, reUsE, rEcyCLe!”

This old adage has basically lost all meaning. Credit: Raconteur

The result of such an individual-centric focus to our environmental issues? As Morten Fibieger Byskov, a postdoctoral researcher in international politics at the University of Warwick, writes, “focusing on how individuals can help is very convenient for corporations.”

Exactly. 

By focusing on the fact that ordering an Impossible Whopper, rather than a regular Whopper, reduces the purchase’s carbon footprint by a whopping 87% (pun intended), we conveniently ignore the fact that fast-food chains like Burger King, KFC, and McDonald’s are heavy contributors to the 14.5% of global emissions that result from livestock farming.

By choosing to buy a hybrid Toyota Prius because “it helps the environment,” we conveniently ignore the fact that Toyota is a huge contributor to a car industry whose 2018 cumulative emissions surpassed those of the European Union. 

By buying one of Asos’ “Responsible edit” pieces, we conveniently ignore the fact that the fashion industry contributes more to global warming than airlines.

Buying a Toyota Prius, while friendlier to the environment, still obviously supports Toyota. Credit: Toyota

In other words, it seems like no matter what sustainable choices we make, we still play a huge role in propping up the very corporations that pollute the Earth in the first place. 

That begs an obvious question. 

What can we do?

Well, seeing that just one hundred companies have emitted 71% of total global carbon emissions in the last three decades, it seems reasonable that in order to stop the climate crisis, we have to get corporations to stop polluting at such ridiculous rates. 

A small part of that is making decisions about where you spend your money: buying a Prius or Tesla is certainly better than buying a Hummer or pickup truck.

The bigger component is realizing just why those corporations pollute so much in the first place. The video below teaches the basics of the tragedy of the commons, an economic phenomenon that explains why a public resource, like land or water, will naturally become overused, overharvested, and overgrazed.

When given free rein to do what they want with natural resources, corporations will naturally pollute the environment. The only method to stop it? Governmental regulation. 

Until the leaders of blue-chip corporations come together and decide to collectively lower emissions at the expense of the quarterly profits (a wildly unlikely proposition, albeit admittedly more probable now than ever before), strong governmental rules, like the Obama Administration’s Clean Power Plan, are the only way to ensure that corporations behave responsibly and with regard for our future.

So what can we do?

We can push the government for stronger reform by attending a local climate strike, or by writing your congressperson.

The September Chicago climate march, which yours truly missed class to attend. Credit: Chicago Tribune

If that doesn’t work? Just vote them out. 

The summer after my sophomore year, I worked as a field intern for the campaign of Sean Casten, a former clean-energy entrepreneur who was running against Rep. Peter Roskam, a climate-denying congressman with no scientific grasp of reality. Even though I wasn’t even old enough to cast my vote for Casten, I’m pretty happy with how it all ended up.

So if you call yourself an environmentalist, it’s probably time to brush up on your political knowledge. 

When we have a government that takes the climate crisis seriously, we’ll have a policy platform that reflects that. When we have an effective, enforceable policy platform, corporations will pollute less. That’s our only chance at avoiding catastrophe. 

Pretending otherwise is like trying to drink the ocean out of a (reusable) straw.