In Chase of Perfection

In Chase of Perfection


Jessica Vasil

So I've read an article today (http://www.danoah.com/2010/09/disease-called-perfection.html), and heard a song called Deadly Beauty by Falk (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8IHwai118s) and it really got me thinking....

How many people in my life have struggled with these issues? Body image? Eating Disorders? Self mutilation? Suicidal thoughts? Over all feelings of worthlessness? Stress that is so bad it manifests itself to physical ailments? Sexual Assault? And am I a person they feel they could talk to about it?

I sat down today to focus on school, but I could not shake some of the thoughts I had. How many times have I been a part of a group talking about the ‘skanky’ girls at the party last night? Or stayed silent while good men around me throw around phrases like ‘the ho I’ve been bangin on the side’?

Everyone talks about how they wished they lived in a society where people were more open and honest-it would lead to discussions that would help people overcome these 'obstacles'. Yet no one is talking. Why is it that talking about one of the above mentioned topics is still so taboo? I'm not blameless; I wouldn't even know how to start a conversation like that with someone in my family. My family is amazing, I'm very close with them, but those are issues that just aren't discussed. No one had to pull me aside and tell me not to talk about them. It's just understood. No one wants to talk about something so controversial and uncomfortable around the dinner table or at a family party. Keep it light and simple.

No one wants to be labeled. I think that's part of the struggle. I've done some volunteering for both SAAVI (Sexual Assault and Anti-Violence Information) and CAPSA (Community Abuse Prevention Services Agency), and am passionate about both causes, yet the amount of judgments and stereotypes I have encountered in this field is unbelievable.

I googled perfection, and here are some of the images I found on page one.
So how do we break through these walls of society? I wish I had an answer. It's easy to blame the media-which doesn't help the issue, and probably holds part of the blame. But that's not the whole picture.

I feel like our generation should take the lead. We need to sit down with our sons and daughters at a very young age and talk about these issues until they are no longer uncomfortable.

On a university level, we need to continue to have discussions like the one we had at my school, Utah State University, last semester when Reed Cowan visited us. He showed his documentary “8:The Mormon Propostition,” and led a very emotional and frank discussion about his film and personal experiences being a homosexual man.

How do we reach children in high school where being cool is so important? What about the children even younger than them? My cousin teaches school in the inner city of Chicago, and she has girls in eighth grade getting pregnant. EIGTHTH GRADE! What isn’t this making news? Why aren’t we as a nation more outraged at the deaths of Todd Ransom, David Standley, and Tim Tiley who all commited suicide?

I could rant on and on about the under covered tragedies that should have gotten more coverage. The question still presses, how do we change this?

My contribution is this-I challenge myself to be the type of person who someone could talk to. I work at CAPSA on the mobile crisis unit-I am the first person from CAPSA to meet with victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. I present them with their options, and let them choose what they would like to do next.

I challenge myself to pay closer attention to the words I use, and what affect they have on the people around me.

I challenge myself to speak up in groups when I disagree with the words used and the topics discussed.

This is not to say I’ve suddenly become a different person and will never say a mean thing about another. It does mean I have made a commitment to myself to do so less and less. Who is willing to join me?

Paris!

The day began early, too early, in my opinion. Four am is too early to be getting up, but there we were, all five of us, in the lobby getting ready for our first European adventure.  The group was Jenna, Laura, Emily, Chris, and I.  We gathered our luggage and found our way to Liverpool Street where a bus would take us several hours to the ferry.  We crossed the English Channel and returned to the bus for another two hours.  Nine hours later we were in Paris, and although exhausted, ready for sightseeing. 

We took a boat tour, and although we saw a lot of interesting architecture it was like a teaser.  We couldn’t actually get out and see any of the places we were passing. After the boat tour, we took a bus tour through the city, and received some helpful insight from our tour guide about how to navigate the city.  Around nine o’clock we finally reached our hotel, exhausted and hungry.  The girls went off in search of fine French cuisine on a budget.

We ended up in the quaint area with cobblestones everywhere.  We selected the best restaurant we could afford and although under dressed, we went in.  We tried these amazing French cheeses with a bottle of wine for the table; then, Laura and I split the duck for our main entrée. I was apprehensive, but surprised myself and loved it.  Dessert was chocolate mousse that was rich and creamy and wonderful. 

We returned to the hotel, and Laura and I made plans to go to Pere Lachaise`in the morning before our tour began.  Seven thirty found us still tired, but we took off, determined to see Jim Morrison.    We made our way there, only to get caught up in taking pictures of the amazing headstones, and all maps in French didn’t help much.  We made it back just in time to meet up with our tour group, and decided we would try again the next day to see Jim. 

Our day of sightseeing was amazing.  We began at the Cathedral of Hearts (which translation I don’t remember) where there were no pictures aloud, but was breathtaking.  I said a prayer, and had a rather spriitual experience as I saw part of my name spelt out in the ceiling. 

The market where locals sold their paintings

St. Peter’s was around the corner, and was another gorgeous church.  Stained glass everywhere, amazing attention to detail in everything you saw.  Across the courtyard, was a market where local artists were selling their paintings.  Talk about talent! They were incredible, and I decided when I come back to Europe (as an accomplished career woman) I want to buy a piece of artwork from every country I visit.  Walking around this market were French military men holding automatic weapons. I wanted to see if one of them would take a picture with me, but everyone was too scared to go with me. 

Notre Dame

Moulin Rouge was next on our stop, which was cool to see, but since we didn’t go in, it was just another tourist destination.  Notre Dame was beyond words.  To think that it was built in the 1300s just boggles my mind.  I can’t fathom how people were physically capable of creating such a marvel.  From the stained glass to the Stations of the Cross, to the attention to detail, it was just mind blowing.  The statues were unbelievable.  Even with tourists everywhere taking pictures and trying to whisper, the presence of Christ could be felt.  There was a book where people from all around the world could sign and leave a message.  I left a message for my Grandma Karen, who is very religious and would have loved Notre Dame.     

From there we wandered the streets with our free time.  We found a great hole in the wall for lunch where we all bought homemade crepes from the vendor.  They were fantastic! Everyone got Nuetella and bananas except me, I got strawberry jam.  They were incredibly filling, only a few of us could finish them. 

Me in front of Versailles

We met up with our tour group and headed on a bus to Versailles.  It looked like something out of a romantic novel or a movie.  The entrance was these huge gates covered in gold.  The palace had twenty feet high doors with gold detailing everywhere you look.  Vaulted ceilings covered in paintings, every inch of space contained a decoration of some kind.  There were over a thousand rooms, the king, queen, and daughter all had their own separate wings of the palace.  There was a lift for the king’s favorite mistress to come up secretly for rendezvous. 

Victorian reminiscent art was everywhere.  A hall of mirrors was incredible to view.  Unfortunately it was a really overcast and very rainy day, so we were unable to go walk through the gardens, but it was absolutely amazing place to see.  Visions of women in ornate Victorian dresses spun through my mind all day. 

When our time there was done, we met up with the group and were dropped off in Central Paris.  My feet and legs were throbbing with pain.  We must have walked over four miles that day on little sleep.  For dinner we were all broke, and stopped at a local grocery store for some baguettes and cheese.  We ate on the side of the street, and probably looked like we were homeless.  Laura’s big find that day was wine in a juice box.  We were all amazed by this discovery.

The infamous Eiffel Tower was next up, and we spent several hours there.  We made it all the way to the top and the view was amazing.  There were people all over trying to sell you souvenirs, bargaining with you to try to get you to buy anything.  They were not only ruthless but annoying.  After we made our way back to the AllSeasons hotel, we decided to try to see Jim again the following morning.

I woke up that morning in the same position I fell asleep in, and dragged myself out of bed.  We headed back to see Jim, excited and as refreshed as we could be.  Unfortunately, the cemetery didn’t open til nine am on Sundays, and we had to be back to meet up with our group.  We waited until 8:30 hoping someone would let us in early, but eventually we had to leave, and Laura and I left disappointed. 

That morning we had a real breakfast, and then headed to the Lourve.  Jenna and I mapped out what we wanted to see, so we could maximize our time there. At this point, exhaustion is setting in and our feet were really dragging.  We mustered up as much energy as we could and headed to see the Mona Lisa.  We also saw the Venus de Milo and a great collection of Egyptian, Greek, and Roman artifacts. 

We got back on the bus for the nine hour journey home utterly exhausted, and slept as much as possible on the bus.  Another interesting point I don’t want to forget, is we drove through the tunnel where Princess Diana was hit.  There was a memorial of sorts erected in her honor there. 

Little Security for an Ex-Head of State

Black suits, ear pieces, and Men In Black style sunglasses. Okay, maybe the last bit is an over exageration, but I definetly picture CIA style security when I hear that the ex-president of a country will be speaking to the public. Instead, I met the ex-president of Bolivia, Carlos Mesa, in a small auditorium with no visible security to speak of. He seemed alone, and during his two hour speech I found myself wondering why?

My lack of concentration frustrated me; however, I was torn between listening to him speak in Spanish and using the headphones that had a British man with too much spit in his mouth translating to English. Eventually I gave up trying to translate on my own, and put the headphones on to hear the entire message (trying to figure out what neo-constructizism is in Spanish is a challenge).

Sitting in the world renown London School of Econmics and Political Science, where the likes of the Kennedy's have studied, I felt intimidated by the scholars around me. I found out Mesa was a journalist for roughly 25 years before he became president. With a little internet searching before hand, I also found out he was elected as vice-president and took over for the president mid-term. He attempted to resign several times during his term before the Congress accepted his letter of resignation.

In his speech, he addressed several issues, comparing Bolivia to Brazil and Venezuela. Bolivia has one percent of Brazils GDP, and he cited the differences between Chavez's rhetoric and actions as the reason for some of their financial success. He stated that Venezuela needs the U.S. to sell their oil to, so Chavez does a good job of not making the U.S. too mad that they refuse to by his oil.

Indigenous people in Bolivia are not recognized as citizens, and I found out that the racism in Bolivia is unreal. One student in the audience addressed this issue during the Q and A session, and Mesa skirted around the issue. He said racism was still a problem but avoided addressing any potential roads to a solution.

After the speech, we got to meet Mesa in an informal meet and greet where wine and hor de

vours were served. There was a major language barrier, but he seemed pleasant enough; he was more than willing to take pictures with whoever wanted them and engage in both small talk and more in depth conversations with the native Spanish speakers.

So the question remains, was an ex-president of Bolivia just not that concerned with security, or was his security so good they remained unseen unless needed? I will never know, but I will find out if the Prime Minister of New Zealand shares the same sentiment next month when I go see him speak.

things that are on my mind...

Reed Cowan... www.digitalcommons.usu.edu/mediasociety/1

I attended this presentation of "8:A Mormon Proposition" and was amazed at the amount of knowledge and strength Reed Cowan has surrounding such a controversial issue. Regardless of your personal feelings on the matter, he displayed an amount of respect for those who blatently disapprove of him and his life choices. I watched this posting today per an e-mail from one of my profesors (Ted Pease), and my feelings on the matter washed over me as if I was back in that room. The anger and saddness I feel for those who are so closed minded to not be able to have this conversation runs rampant in my mind. Whether your personal feelings are agree, disagree, or still figuring it out-mutual respect and a willingness to open communications are crucial.

International Security...

What is the first thing you think of when you hear this title? Personally, I thought of current events, and the struggle world leaders have today in defining what international security is, and how that choice affects their policy making decisons. Unfortunately for me, the Brits seem to think otherwise. The class that I was most excited for has turned out to be an advanced political theory class, and as week two is now coming to a close, I have dwindling hope that any sort of current events or decisons will be addressed at all in this class. Will this class ultimately make me more informed about political theory (my least favorite topic in the discipline)? Yes, it will force me to do so; however, my hopes of learning about a British mentality on current security issues from my colleagues in a classroom setting is diminishing.

First Few Days In London

Two suitcases weighing sixty pounds each, a pack, and a breifcase-studying abroad for five months in this seemed impossible as I laid my clothes out a week ago. Upon arrival, I have realized my father was right, I brought too many shoes, but I am excited for the months in front of me. I am in London for this "term" as they call it, where they have too much change (one and two pounds are change here as well as tehir pence or cents), and put vinegar on their fries (which they call chips).

I thought I would be more nervous, maybe because I grew up in Chicago, this city seems normal to me. Take the tube (subway) to campus, walk to the grocery store, swipe cards to go everywhere. Where's the excitement? The non stop parties and cute boys with British accents? The mest of cultures? I've only met Americans so far in orientation; I thought there would be all internaional students, but we're all from the States.

Don't get me wrong, I am excited to be here, I guess I just expected something more. Maybe next week when classes start I'll find it. Right now it's overpriced crappy food though, and I'm wishing I was going to be home for the SuperBowl.

There's an overwhelming amount of information, I take notes everywhere I go, and I'm still afriad I'll miss something important for school. It's like being a freshman all over again, only I've been in college for four years and feel like I should know whats going on.

I have met some awesome people. `We have bonded over finding our way through the city and where to get cheap hangers for our clothes, already I can tell we will hang out all term long. Tomorrow's the tour through London, so I will come bearing my camera, and ready to take lots of pictures.

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