What TASP is like

<p>I thought that maybe my "evaluation of TASP" might show you what is so awesome about TASP. Please, no private messages; I'm really really really busy...</p>

<p>The idea of describing the TASP experience is heretical. As I write these words, many other students around the world applying to live at the Telluride House at Cornell are also attempting to express what those six weeks meant to them. It is indeed a tragedy that they too will fail. As Antonin Artaud once wrote, ?To express it is to betray it.�?</p>

<p>But then again, not failing with a laughably grandiose 63-word response will do me absolutely no good in this case.</p>

<p>The idea behind the overly extravagant introductory paragraph is true: No given amount of writing would ever do our beloved program justice. It has been nearly a month since the ending of TASP, that dreadful day, August 5 and I am still struggling to recognize that ?TASP was the greatest experience of my life�? instead of ?Leaving TASP was the worst thing that has ever happened to me.�? I felt like Satan from Paradise Lost, ?hurled to bottomless perdition.�?</p>

<p>It took me several weeks to break out of this mindset, although I felt that one day at TASP was infinitely more meaningful than those weeks at home. Once I did this, I was able to appreciate TASP more fully and actually understand what it meant to me and how it has changed the way I perceive things in general. I remember reading the description of the program on the spam-like brochure that Telluride sent me. From this and several comments I found on the internet, I actually expected TASP to be a life-changing event. That said, TASP still exceeded every expectation of mine. It transcended every description on the brochure.</p>

<p>Students learn to form, and live responsibly within, an intellectual and social community.</p>

<p>As I was on my flight back to Springfield, I looked through the yearbook we had compiled at the culmination of our TASP. I could not hold back my tears as I reflected on all the journeys we had made together, small or large?whether it was our pilgrimage to 7-Eleven on July 11th to gather free slurpies or our epic odyssey to the downtown bookstore, which required us to master the Austin public transportation system, run frenziedly down streets, and flail our arms wildly at bus drivers. Yes, we were much more than ?an intellectual and social community.�? At the risk of sounding clich? and sentimental, we really became family to each other. I felt closer to the TASPers at the end of the 6th week than to friends I have known my entire life. For the first time in my life, I felt understood, appreciated, loved for who I am.</p>

<p>Sam, our factotum, asked me during the second week what I thought of TASP so far and what I wanted out of TASP. I told him that while the seminar itself was very interesting, I thought that what makes TASP so valuable are the many conversations about art, literature, politics, media,?life?that would make us think differently about ourselves and the world. I told him what Grace, a friend of mine who went to a different TASP, said to me once: ?I measure my life in memorable conversations like these.�? Indeed, TASP went beyond what I told Sam I wanted. In fact, I had some of the most interesting conversations of my life on the excruciatingly hot journey back to the house from seminar. Most of us thought the geography of our TASP quite damnable?we were living in a desert, and every morning we would have to walk twenty minutes to seminar and repeat after three hours of lecture and an elevation of 30 degrees. But in retrospect, this seemingly unfortunate problem of location was actually ideal for generating intellectual discourse. The walk was full of evaluating, praising, criticizing, complaining, joking, explaining?it was just intellectual paradise. The seminar never failed to humor us, spark our curiosity, or even anger us. We pondered over our responses to the professors? questions, the responses of the professors to our questions, and our responses to the professors? responses to our questions. Every day we thought and talked about the ?unanswered questions�? in our topic, like why there is no handwriting that goes strictly from right to left. Varun once had a flashbulb idea a moment right after seminar, and he jumped at me and sputtered furiously, ?Paul?I figured it out.�? He pulled out a sheet of paper and explained to me, ?See, you cannot see your writing as you move your hand from the right to left. Since the majority of the population was right-handed, they had to take this into account. Plus, your hand would smear the ink as it passes by.�? Weeks later, we heard a visiting professor, Dr. Mark Van Stone confirm this in a lecture, ?Some experts think that writing from right to left is not used because the hand would smear the ink.�?</p>

<p>We formed cohesive bonds, fueling each other?s love and intellectual curiosity. It is interesting how the two can be so related?that such an emotion could germinate merely from a series of conversations. It never occurred to me that conversations could actually promote such a deep understanding and sympathy for each other. TASP was very much a utopia?a truly ethereal experience. There was always someone who was willing to do anything with me, whether it was to go out for and talk about the history of constructivism in Russia, to watch Amadeus and gasp at the horrific sight of the white powder diffusing from Mozart?s corpse, or even to read The Penal Colony at midnight. A TASPer named Ferris even gave me company as I finished my paper in the wee hours of the morning, offering me encouragement and advice throughout the night to help me break out of my procrastinating ways and finish the damn thing while attempting to occupy himself by reading the Oresteia or staring blankly at the ceiling, patiently waiting for me to finish so that he could review it. We frequently walked together alone on the shortcuts to and from the sorority house like mavericks, refusing to take the longer, stupider route the others would take. We would boost our egos at having outwitted a bunch of people who didn?t even care, evaluate the efficiency of our daily travels, fantasize about using Austin Public Transportation to get to class, and solve the world?s problems in between. When I finally decided to use TASP as a golden opportunity to acquire a mohawk, as the environment was essentially a hiatus from social pressures, he accompanied me to the barber because I was frightened of the irreversible change. Tracy would take care of me and keep me in line?she too helped urge me to finish my papers, also helping to organize my messy pile of papers, books, and CDs. When Apple contacted me to say that they would not fix my iPod because of a very small dent, Varun spoke passionately on the phone for more than two hours to an increasingly irate representative. He failed. But what is significant about these anecdotes is how we eventually exhibited characteristics of a family.</p>

<p>TASP is a story of how eighteen students from all over the world came to know and love each other, despite all the potential time for disagreements. In the real world (especially the Real World?), this does not happen?a group is bound to have its share of disagreements, hostilities, quarrels, disputes. But we didn?t. In my opinion, we were truly special. At the conclusion of the program we were almost inseparable. I felt like a baby being taken away from my mother. The house was like a luscious breast I had been suckling for six weeks, and I didn?t want it to end.1</p>

<p>Each TASP encourages the students to use the seminar as a foundation for exploring ideas together, and the intellectual life of the program continues well after the seminar ends.</p>

<p>The truth in this statement cannot be underestimated. First of all, the seminar was ideal because of its overwhelming breadth. Therefore, everybody had something to add to the conversation?it did not require any of its participants to have a specialized knowledge of the history of writing. As I said before, class discussion never failed to stimulate deep thinking. We were asked to question whenever we could?even whatever the professors said. In fact, the professors themselves questioned each other. Frequently Professor Sue would stop Professor Kurt to question the validity of his statements or even to defend a student.</p>

<p>The class discussion actually began when the real one ended. People were especially conversational on the day before the papers were due?I told the professors that while they only saw the end product of our efforts, they missed much of the excitement: Each night before the due date, everyone would sit down together, collectively working on papers. Everyone would engage in lengthy discussions about the assignment. One would see people have revelations, bursting into frenzied jumps of joy. One would see people slowly disappearing from the computer room, finished with their papers, while their peers looked on jealously. Contrary to what I thought at the time, writing the papers was probably one of the most rewarding experiences of TASP. It was almost impossible to write a paper without thinking carefully about the prompts. However, the effects of writing these papers on my body were another matter. These are discussed in the second essay.</p>

<p>TASPers are urged to take advantage of the resources of the college and university communities where the programs are held.</p>

<p>Most of the TASPers took advantage of the recreational center. Some TASPers went there daily?there was a group of TASPers who went there every morning before seminar to run or swim. While I did enjoy going there to play the occasional game of basketball, ping-pong, or pool, the resources of particular interest to me were the libraries. I was the first one to explore them and also the only one to visit them frequently, as most of the others were reluctant to walk across campus. Indeed, the library was very far away but certainly not disappointing. I checked out a fair share of plays from the PCL Library, but what particularly attracted me was their Fine Arts Library. I returned frequently to listen to rare vinyl records and to check out some CDs from their rather large CD collection. The Museum of Art was also a very pleasant place to visit, especially its contemporary and modern art section.</p>

<p>Students attend specially arranged guest lectures and give speeches on topics that interest them?as well as join in informal dinner-table and late-night discussions of a great range of issues!</p>

<p>I must say that I was somewhat bored with a few of the guest lectures. One involved a professor from the law department giving a three-hour analysis of the Constitution without stopping. Another professor from the physics department gave a somewhat tedious story of the birth of science, although the ensuing session for questions (which actually did not include any questions on the history of science but rather, on physics!) was fascinating, even though all of us were unable to comprehend the scientific language that he used. Two of the lectures were very illuminating, in my opinion. The professor who lectured on Hobbes made sure to use language that was easily understandable. He had asked us to read selections from Leviathan the night before, so we were able to engage in a very interesting conversation about the problems in logic that Leviathan depended on. However, the most rewarding lecture came from the professor who spoke about the value of a liberal arts education. Honestly, I had never thought about the purpose of education in a broad sense and was never able to justify the value of studying a topic that did not directly contribute to the well-being of others. Using Plato?s Cave metaphor, he emphasized the need for students to question what they have learned throughout their life and to independently think and form their view of critical questions such as, ?Why should I be moral?�? or ?Why is it good or not good to be selfish?�? Before we can evaluate artworks or laws, we must first understand the very definitions of art and justice themselves.</p>

<p>I enjoyed the pubspeaks very much. Everyone was genuinely interested in their topics and this fact was very evident in their work. There were a couple of people who took the shortcut and simply read a paper they had written before. Their speeches were still very interesting, but in my opinion they missed out on opportunity to learn new things even about topics they are familiar with. I actually took a safer route and chose a topic that I was familiar with, but it still required me to research and formulate a structured speech. At first, the pubspeak really felt like a burden, but the end result was very satisfying. I spoke about the theoretical differences between Dada and Surrealism, and the eventual evolution of the former into the latter. I also read a Dada poem in the Dada tradition, complete with wild arm movements and shouting. I was actually shocked at how interested my audience was. At my own school, I would have been attacked for attempting to flaunt my intellect, but they asked very engaging questions. This was actually the first time I could fully understand how teachers could love their jobs.</p>

<p>The informal discussions, however, were the most rewarding experiences. To list the topics would be an impossible task. I had my fair share of serious, intellectual conversations?I spoke with Varun about the history of Guatemalan violence on the very first day of TASP; David and I discussed the significance of magical realist literature, comparing and analyzing the novels of Marquez and Allende; and Rachel and I talked about the ascension of the American underground in the 80?s and worshiped bands like the Replacements, Drive Like Jehu, and Nation of Ulysses. But I had a penchant for more unusual topics, which I am quite adept at broaching. Ed, Ferris, and I had a very deep conversation about why light sabers could not be fired at the Death Star from a distance, since they were able to pass through any substance; I conferred with King and Stephanie about the possibility of creating ?phallus.com�? and the rewards the domain might bring; and I told Jon about the how the discovery that epithelial cell tissue in foreskin can be grown very quickly could help humanity in many ways, such as serving as the principal material of parachutes, hats, or windbreakers. We also visualized a B-movie flick in which the growth of a foreskin sample suddenly becomes incontrollable, going rampant and ruthlessly devouring the inhabitants of the city.</p>

<p>But the conversations I am most fond of are the personal ones I had with various people, especially Sam. I frequently read out loud with Sam?originally out of pity for the guy, but eventually for myself. In between readings, we would have conversations about education, our futures, and our lives. I remember telling him the story about my conflict with my dad?how we never speak any more and how he will probably not help pay my college tuition. He sympathized with me, telling me of his own, almost identical situation and his solution. He also enjoyed telling me about his experience at Deep Springs and how it had affected him as a person, and how superior that experience was to any other part of his life. I told him how I became interested in art and literature. He explained to me how he became interested in political philosophy. It was truly through conversations like these that helped me to better understand who I am and what made me that way. In fact, at times I considered Sam to be more of a father figure to me than my own real one.</p>

<p>Students also attend group meetings and are responsible for planning community activities and discussing questions of self-government.</p>

<p>Our house meetings never had enough problems. They were very orderly and everyone behaved very courteously. We also never had any instances in which there was a serious division in opinion that prevented a decision from being made. The only exception to this was in determining what article of clothing we would choose and what design would go on them. This seemed to drag on for weeks, until we forced ourselves to a decision. By this time, it was too late to receive the clothing by the end of TASP. Other than this slight inconvenience, we governed ourselves quite well and there were no problems in the meetings.</p>

<p>uh...nice expository description, if you will, seems to have touched on the essence of TASP</p>

<p>lolll believe it or not
i shed a tear or two after reading this -_________________-</p>

<p>now think, if i made it into tasp, what i would be like at the end of six weeks, oh my.</p>

<p>thx wang for putting this up</p>

<p>Haha, Paul...</p>

<p>I thought we were going to keep up the image of TASP as a secret place where they breed you for the next army of Nunn-sense...</p>

<p>Ah well. <em>shrugs</em></p>

<p>UTASP = Best TASP. Pwned.</p>

<p>Tracy would take care of me and keep me in line--she too helped urge me to finish my papers, also helping to organize my messy pile of papers, books, and CDs.</p>

<p>Awww, how sweet. <em>hugs</em> Who would be so kind, compassionate to do such a thing? ;)</p>

<p>My sister attended TASP and said that it was one of the most amazing experiences of her life.</p>

<p>Haha. The kid you talked about Varun goes to my school. He is one of the most intellectual and compasionate people in the world. What a small world this is. Very nice report.
Thanks!</p>

<p>To what TASP did your sister go to, Vtoodler?</p>

<p>UM. EXCUSE ME, TRACY?! UT = BEST? No, I don't think so.
PSHHHH.
Let's just say we were all freaking excellent and that TASP 2006 was the best collection of TASPs. ;)</p>

<p>Oh god, Paul. Magical Realism; have you talked to Laura Gonzalez of my TASP? :P</p>

<p>P.S. "The house was like a luscious breast I had been suckling for six weeks, and I didn't want it to end." has got to be my favorite line ever.</p>

<p>phallus.com is STILL free. SERIOUSLY. I think we should ask for money from every 2006 TASPer to buy that domain.</p>

<p>B.I.R.T.</p>

<p>The 2006 TASPs herein pledge to donate precious monies towards said site.</p>

<p>I SAY AYE!</p>

<p>Really.</p>

<p>Umm...I promise you, if it were free, the UT-Austin TASP would have bought it as an address for the blog. It's already registered! It's just that nobody is using it!</p>

<p>They stole boustrophedon too. <em>shakes fist</em></p>

<p>did you get passed the first round for deep springs?</p>

<p>ja, going there thursday morn'. well, to reno. goin' to DS on friday morn'.</p>

<p>so im assuming your going there for your interview which would mean you got into the 2nd round?</p>

<p>sry not famliiar with ds admission process</p>

<p>Thank you... that totally inspired me to apply.</p>

<p>Now I'm ridiculously excited. :[</p>

<p>oh my gosh every time I think I get over the TASP angst, things like this come back to remind me that 6 of the best weeks of my life have passed...waaah...:( </p>

<p>"Foreskin banks!" 'Nuff said.</p>

<p>it sounds like such an amazing experience.....i agree Katarina, this has only made me want it more!!!!</p>

<p>Sorry to revive this thread…</p>

<p>INSPIRATIONAL</p>