Interesting Stories from Various Locations

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Culture Clash: internship toolkit class

My bus was stuck in Parliament Square when I thought "I can't do this.  I can't go to creative writing and still have this paper looming over me.  I'd be very very distracted.  I won't have enough time to finish it.  Besides, I didn't sent it to myself so I can work on it in a computer lab on campus."  So I got off while it was still stuck and tube'd it back home where I spent the next five hours until the internship toolkit class completing the rambling thoughts I've previously been writing and managed to form a solid thesis.  Go me.  Then I wrote the entire paper in two hours and sent ti to myself so I could print it on campus. 

Remind me to email my creative writing instructor to say "Sorry I missed class.  Where in the Tate Modern are we meeting next week?" 

The internship toolkit, I realized today, is probably the biggest culture clash I'll ever witness this side of the pond.  Here we have a classroom full of Americans, who only partially plan their careers because that's how we roll, taking part in a Britishified version of an internship class which makes us plan out our career goals to an uncomfortably specific tee.  Shelby doesn't know what she's going to do in five years because the thought tends to freak her out.  I don't know what I'm going to do in five years because I just don't think that far ahead in general.  I don't have career goals.  If an exciting opportunity comes up, I take it whether it was planned or not.  You don't do that in Britain.  Here, you know exactly what you're going to do after your first term at Uni and you spend your entire University career working towards that goal.  I still don't have my future planned out ahead of me.  I don't even have a preference of where I live (as long as it's near a big-ish city or metropolitan area similar to the Fox Valley).  Okay, I do have a preference, but I didn't specifically way which city in which state I want to live in. 

Today in the internship toolkit, we just sat around and discussed our career goals.  Which hardly anyone did.  Xanthy and another woman whom I don't know went around and talked to everyone about their goals.  I said I didn't have one and she basically said "You'll be unemployed" in as many nicely thought-out words as possible.  Shelby laughed at that.  I did too.  Culture clash.  Seriously, no one in that class takes it seriously or thinks its any huge benefit.  Shelby said that she had her meeting with Andrea at her internship the other day (Andrea the one that makes sure we're doing all right at the actual internship, the one who found us these internships Andrea).  Andrea asked how the class was helping Shelby, Shelby just went "Um . . . ." and didn't really answer the question. 

I tell you know, I don't really have career goals.  It'd be nice to work in a publishing company, but I also want to be a writer.  Perhaps I'll go down the path of John Scalzi and do something like he does.  Or maybe I'll somehow make it like Patrick Rothfuss and spend my time working on my own gigantic novel.  I hear you can make a living as a professional blogger too.  So for my final project for the internship toolkit, which involves a portfolio of your work experience and a detailed explanation of your career goals (haha), I'm going to do some research on these different professions so I can adequately BS my way around that.  And there you have it.

At the computer lab, did a final read-through of my paper, printed it off, and then took the train going the wrong way.  No worries, I just sat at the Great Portland Street station for twenty minutes waiting for my train to come back.  When it did come, I sat near a guy who was challenged -- he didn't sway with the train and he made weird noises and passed gas.  I felt uncomfortable so I moved when someone else moved across the aisle.  A woman gave me a sympathetic look that made me feel better for moving.

I asked two people where the homework drop box was before I found it.  They do things differently here in terms of homework grading.  Your professor is not the one looking over your work -- they have someone else read it over and grade it.  And it does make me nervous, but I feel I put forth the best effort I could possibly give in that paper, so I hope it's adequate.  As I was turning it in, a group of girls were turning in their own assignments.  They kissed their papers and prayed for good grades and then they took pictures of them as they dumped them in the shoot.  Is homework really that big of deal over here?

Dinner was leftovers, a mini pizza, and a giant orange.  Then I called Oscar to see if he wanted to hang out, which we did.  I ran out of money on my phone so I have to remember to top up tomorrow.  Cieron stopped by quite often because he was bored and the three of us just hung about and talked and stuff.  Got a minor Spanish Inquisition on political activities in the US.  They asked questions like "What's a super liberal viewpoint for you?" which I couldn't answer because I'm not politically involved.  Last person you want to ask about that stuff, right here.  When Cieron left, Oscar and I watched Princess Mononoke which is still a good movie. 

Reader Question: do you guys want me to post links about the things I talk about?  Such as the links for Princess Mononoke, John Scalzi, and Patrick Rothfuss in this post?  Let me know in the comments, please!  Also, please don't be afraid to comment.  Or openly follow me.  *cute smile*

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