Category Archives: UBC

My Biggest Mistake Applying for Jobs Post-Graduation

Posted on by under Career, Observations and Reflections, UBC

Sorry for the clickbaity title, but hey, we know it works.

I went through four very self-assured years as an English major, hating the “What will you do post-grad?” question but always having some kind of answer: one that would satisfy…

  1. my grandma
  2. my partner’s parents
  3. my friend pursuing a Bachelor of Science
  4. etc.

I won’t bother giving you the half-artificial answers I gave these people, most of whom were genuinely and benignly curious about what kind of life I would have with this kind of undergraduate “training,” if you even want to call it that, but here’s the real answer: I had only but a faint, faint clue. As I approached graduation, I fixated a lot on the people who I knew graduated with English degrees from UBC. Outside of graduate school students, none of them had the same job. Editor at Penguin Random House. Sociology professor. Teacher. Lawyer. Public relations professional. Executive director at a non-profit.

More importantly, none of them planned out the steps to get where they ended up at that time that I spoke to them. I was hyper aware of this fact throughout my job application process, so I wasn’t too worried about the fact that I didn’t know exactly what the next steps were.

In my journal roughly around graduation time, I wrote out all the things I knew I cared about in a professional life, and they were vague, broad things like being community-centred, words-based, team-oriented. Having a work-life balance. Believing in my employer’s mission or cause. This approach was right, but not necessarily helpful at the time when I was applying for jobs.

So my approach shifted, for the worse, toward “not being picky.” Despite my confidence that I would be some kind of okay, I also knew that I didn’t know what was really out there, what I was good at, and what the world wanted from me. So I applied for jobs thinking I didn’t really have the room to be picky. In other words, I applied for jobs that I knew I wouldn’t take even if I was made an offer, which put me in difficult positions, because I would either get offers that felt like I should accept but didn’t want to, or I couldn’t commit fully to a hiring process, which really shows during an interview. Employers can tell when you’re bought in, and when you’re not.

Here was my biggest mistake: I should have, and could have, been picky.

I want to emphasize that what I’m sharing here is my specific experience. I know that this isn’t the case for everyone, so take what I’m saying with a grain of salt, and what I’m saying is: Have optimism, but it’s not going to be easy. Applying for jobs was draining. I shouldn’t have been, but by June, I felt discouraged and impatient. I also wanted to be earning money. And, I can’t emphasize this enough, applying for jobs was so much work. I am no stranger to the job application process: the nature of getting jobs through UBC, whether through co-op (which I didn’t do) or internship programs or Work Learn (both of which I did do), is you have to apply for multiple positions. So I was used to applying for multiple jobs at once, but I cannot stress the dramatic increase in volume for post-graduation job applications versus during school, for positions meant only for students.

I kept a spreadsheet to keep track of jobs I applied for, which I’m not saying you have to do, but if you know me then you know that lists and spreadsheets and planning and tracking is just generally kind of my style. Largely due to my “don’t-be-picky” strategy, I ended up applying for over 50 jobs until I got an offer for a position I was excited about at an organization that I believed in. Had I known at the beginning what I know now, that number would probably be cut in half.

So, how did my application process change? After doing a few interviews (over the phone and in person), getting one offer and a few rejections, and doing a little bit of travelling, I realized that I needed to stop applying for jobs I didn’t see myself accepting, ever. If I didn’t like it from the posting, I wouldn’t like it during the interview or even if I get the offer.

I also started focusing on the opportunities in front of me. I got so caught up in jobs that I thought were such a good fit that when I got invited to interviews for other jobs, I would only half-commit to those interviews because I thought other invitations would be coming. They didn’t.

When Dixon showed up as an opportunity, I genuinely thought I didn’t have much of a chance, based both on my experience over the last couple of months and how (un)qualified I thought I was. Despite what I thought, I was invited to an interview. I did my research (unbeknownst to me when i applied, I had two friends who had worked at Dixon). I went to the interview, and at that point, I knew that my predictions didn’t really amount to anything, so I wasn’t holding my breath. I had also, around the same time, interviewed for a digital internship for a private sector job that I was pretty confident I would get, and I would have accepted either, but I knew I wanted Dixon.

I accepted because–and I can’t emphasize this enough–Dixon had such a good reputation in my community, and the people were obviously fantastic from the get-go. Everything else fell into place perfectly around that: I would be challenged in this position because, even if I am qualified (which I am), it’s a step up for me. That was another reason I accepted. Yet another reason was that the position was only four days a week. I could have been making more at another job with full-time hours, but this way I would have time and energy to develop professionally in other ways, or time to devote to myself, or I could keep teaching skating, which would make up the income that I lose in working only 28 hours a week.

But at the time that I accepted, these things weren’t obvious yet. I mentioned earlier that I had been feeling discouraged and impatient: these were factors, and I can’t deny that. I wanted to start making money, and I would have accepted the next offer I got at that point, especially since I was being pickier in my process. I got incredibly lucky with my situation, but I also won’t diminish the fact that I worked hard to be able to get here.

I planned out almost every hour of my four years of undergrad. So you can understand my frustration with this fact, something which I knew but didn’t really learn until this spring: there is no exact science to applying for jobs, or being offered jobs. Sometimes it really is just timing. Fit. Luck. Things that are completely out of your control. It sucks. But it’s not so dreary as all the Grown-Ups told me when I talked about my English degree. My biggest takeaway from this experience is a real faith in the Universe in being able to work things out, if not in ways that you expect. More often, actually, in ways that you don’t expect. So be patient. Trust the process. And, especially if you’re a liberal arts major, be brave. Be open to the possibilities, and be especially open to the possibilities you can’t even imagine.

6 Lessons I Learned from my First Full-time Job

Posted on by under Career, Observations and Reflections, UBC

I just finished a Canada Summer Jobs position at Mom2Mom Child Poverty  Initiative, and am heading back to school (for the last time in my BA!!!) next week.

After spending quite literally all my money in Europe earlier this summer, I returned home at the poorest I’ve been since I started making my own money, and all I really wanted was a job–ideally one that would pad my resume, pay off my trip, and would understand that I was going back to school in the fall. Mom2Mom’s Canada Summer Jobs posting showing up on my Facebook feed was absolutely providential for all those reasons, but I definitely got so much more than just a job and paycheque. I learned so many things that I can hardly distill it into a list, but here are 3 things I learned about working, and then 3 things I learned from working at Mom2Mom.

It was my first time working a full-time position. There was probably only one week in my life that I worked upwards of 35 hours before this summer, so having a 9-5 office job was new to me. The weekend before I started at Mom2Mom, I was chatting with some friends who had been doing full-time co-op jobs all summer or all year, and they talked like people tired of their full-time jobs, tired of spending 40 hours at the same place doing the same thing every day, and listening to them, I felt a little bit of dread for what I thought I knew would be a dull, mundane office life.

It was also my first time working for a non-profit, although I’ve always been involved with a number of non-profits, always a volunteer. I’ve always known that it’s not glamorous, and that it would never make me rich, which is perhaps why I never seriously considered working in non-profits as a career.

On both fronts, my expectations and assumptions were seriously questioned and then proven wrong.

#1:

I bring so much more than just “English major” to the table. It was very cool that my boss graduated from the same program and the same university that I did, and it probably helped both in terms of getting the job and in terms of getting the job done, but what I actually did at Mom2Mom, and what I did well, cannot be fully expressed when I tell strangers that I am an English major, Law & Society minor.

#2

I distinctly remember my mom telling me when I was very, very young that she wanted to do anything but an office job. I’ve seen the media caricature the office drone at a computer, tapping at keys for 8 hours and then going home to a greyscale life. What I forgot to consider is how I would fit into that frame. I have always been a go-getter. I love setting goals for myself and getting things done.

Working a 9-5 office job just means that I can leave work and I can actually leave work. When I leave school, I come home to do more school. Every English major knows that doing reading for pleasure is out of the question during the semester; sure, you might be on top of your reading (if you’re lucky!), but you can always read ahead, so why bother starting something for your own leisure reading?

This summer, I got to spend my transit time reading books that I chose. I got to write more, watch Netflix when I got home, go to the gym, hang out with friends, and more, because I had a 9-5 office job. My life became fuller of things I love and am passionate about because working at Mom2Mom left me with time and energy to do so. It also meant I could go back to work ready to get stuff done. I was a better employee because I was better to myself.

#3

I have always loved school. I love reading deeply, writing thoughtfully, and thinking critically. That, coupled with the fact that I like a challenge, always suggested to me that staying in academia makes sense, because wouldn’t a 9-5 office job, doing admin or comms, be mundane?

In fact, I found myself confronting impossible problems and internal conflicts throughout my term at Mom2Mom, and I was always thinking critically, which brings me to my third set of lessons.

#1

Moms love their kids. Love cannot be measured by gifts, involvement in extracurriculars, or public displays of affection. Moms don’t all start from the same place.

#2

Poverty cannot be solved by work. It cannot be solved by throwing money at it. Because not everyone learns how to budget. Because families get stressed. Because children grow, and have needs. Because making ends meet can only do so much, and because emergencies happen. Poverty cannot ever be reduced to a single root problem.

So many of my peers–myself included–think that we can create the most efficient change by creating and changing legislation, or advocating for the underdog. I still think that the law is a powerful tool, and I’d love to explore that, but legislation is slow and it doesn’t focus about the individual.

Government services doesn’t imagine solutions to a single mother’s broken laptop for school: Mom2Mom does. Community members do. Volunteers reach out to their communities, look into their resources, and do the work themselves. Change doesn’t have to be large-scale and dramatic to be worthwhile. We don’t have to “fix” poverty. It is enough, and it is also so much more, to help make changes for the individual and the family.

#3

I am privileged. I get to take out student loans to attend one of the top universities in the world. I got to grow up competing in organized sport. I have had fancy, shiny electronics, I’ve accumulated books and expensive clothes and accessories. I am a woman and a visible minority, and I am privileged. My job earnings at Mom2Mom could have helped feed a family, and I thought about this every time it felt like I was wasting time.

When you plug in the numbers, it doesn’t make sense and the system sucks. But liberal arts majors know what accountants don’t: privilege, society, and humanity don’t work like an accounting spreadsheet.

I come out from this incredible summer job so much more grateful and simultaneously so much more critical of my degree. I recognize that it equips me with the skills to do great things, but I am also so much more than my degree. I love university, and I am excited to go back, but I am also so excited to finish; there is a world beyond May 2018 and I can’t wait to see what it looks like, but thanks to Mom2Mom, I am assured that that world is not so bleak as others might have me believe.

CWILA: my Arts Internship Program experience

Posted on by under Books, Career, UBC

Technically, my Arts Internship Program placement was supposed to end in August. It went so well that this ended up not happening, but I’ll get to that part of the story later. I wanted to reflect on my official Arts Internship Program experience, because I’m actually very grateful for it.

I applied for the Arts Internship Program in fall of 2015. (You have to apply first to the program and then into an actual internship placement.) I actually got waitlisted at first—I never found out why, but my theory at the time was that my interests were not exactly non-profit-related, so maybe the program didn’t really fit my goals. (Spoiler alert: I was wrong.)

After the program’s applying-to-internships workshop, I applied to five different internships, as recommended by the program coordinator. I kept the following things in mind: the causes I cared about, the time commitment (I was going to keep working part-time), and I also wanted to get an office position instead of a remote one, since I had done a remote internship the summer before.

Despite that last criteria, Canadian Women in the Literary Arts (CWILA) and their remote Communications Assistant position was my first choice. How perfect could it be? I, a self-described Canadian woman in the literary arts, in an office-y type communications position.

I also interviewed for West Coast LEAF, and although I still love their cause and remain interested in the organization, I didn’t get offered a position. (All for the better, I think.)

My interview with Judith Scholes, a CWILA board member, and Sheila Giffen, at the time the Executive Director and my would-be direct supervisor, went very well. Having had my fair share of interviews at this point, I now know that you sometimes just get feelings about certain employers, and I got that feeling with them. I was still a little green in the employment business at the time, so I was a little nervous, but I could sense that CWILA was the organization for me.

As a minority among minorities—a girl growing up in the Philippines who loved books—I understand what it means to be underrepresented in a field that you love. When I grew up dreaming about writing my own book, I thought about the fact that I had never seen a Filipino man (let alone a Filipina) publish a mainstream fiction work. Would it be weird, I thought, when I do that?

I told this to my future employers, and it’s one of the few parts of my interview that I remember. The other part is that I was curious about social media: I had checked out CWILA’s social media feeds, and was astounded I’d never heard of them before. I wanted to help CWILA spread their reach, and I wanted to keep them active online, where social justice thrives.

Although accounting for race still remains a difficult issue, CWILA allowed me to develop professional social media skills, and they did it with enthusiasm and encouragement. Sheila gave me the personal project of developing a social media policy while managing the organization’s social media feeds. I also had the opportunity to read and share the various interviews and essays that CWILA published, which, as a student of English literature, were incredibly exciting, especially when the interviews and essays were by people who I thought belonged only in textbooks.

Something that is frustrating about CWILA is that the many amazing people involved with it are so far spread out: from us here in Vancouver to my new direct supervisor and CWILA Chair in Halifax. Not only are we in different timezones, but we also have lives outside of the non-profit. Many of CWILA are academics, writers, editors, critics, etc. It is hard to stay on top of things, or get in touch, or stay on one page.

But this is also what I love about CWILA. When Erin Wunker asked me in July if I was preparing to move out of my position, I told her I would love to stay if they needed me. I’m so excited to be part of this organization while it is still growing. There is so much work left to do, and I am so excited to be part of it.

Imagining my third year at UBC

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Although I am an upper year and am not strictly an invitee to Imagine Day festivities, for all the (two) years I have been not a first year, I have volunteered to be an Orientations Leader for new-to-UBC students.

This is the first year that I have felt displaced from Arts One: there is a full year between me and that first year experience. However, as I told my first year students, it was the best decision I made for my first year. I am glad that they made the choice to do Arts One, and I know that it is an experience they will treasure for the rest of their university career.

This year’s theme for Imagine UBC felt a lot like the drive to build community, and I think that’s always been one of my biggest themes. As a commuter and Arts One student, the transition to university from high school meant building almost an entirely new community for myself from scratch. In such a big university, that might seem kind of paradoxical.

I find, however, that it’s not so difficult. I chose Arts One and the English Honours programs because they were small (among other reasons, obviously). I lost none of the advantages of learning at a big research university while still learning in small classrooms and forming close relationships with professors, not TA’s (wonderful though they are).

Even outside those programs, I find myself seeing people I’ve met through friends of friends, the odd social event I attended a few months ago, and even through the orientations I participated in when I was a first year.

And even beyond that, one of the coolest feelings–one that I missed out on during my own Imagine Day–is to be sitting in the pep rally with your first year class, having this almost absurd sense of belonging in connection with everyone in Thunderbird Arena: all 7,000 of them. To be yelling in unison, with the entire arena, that “we are UBC” has a magical effect on feeling like you belong.

I love my school. I’m so privileged and happy and excited to be studying in one of the best educational institutions–and one of the best communities–in the world. Officially more than halfway through my degree, it is a bittersweet thing to write that I can’t wait for third year to begin.

Where We Are: Imagine UBC + Second Year Begins

Posted on by under Observations and Reflections, UBC

Study tumblr blogs (“studyblrs”) feature a lot of school tips, including back-to-school preparation tips. A piece of advice that I read a few weeks ago, prior to school starting, was to sleep in the day before classes start (albeit having slept early the night before, of course). This year, that was not possible for me.

I actually had a very hectic week leading up to the first day of classes, loaded with preparations for back to school, orientations, and meeting up with friends who would be leaving for their out-of-province schools.

I had a mediocre Imagine Day during my first year, which is not to say anything against my Orientation Leader, who was very sweet and a wonderful resource regarding the best places for food on campus. However, it was pouring rain, and as a rule, I cannot maintain a good mood in such conditions. Luckily, this year, it was quite pleasant out.

I find that the events that the university puts on for orientations and first year (like Destination) are put on to remind you where you are. This is UBC! This is the most beautiful campus in the world, home to some of the brightest minds and diverse stories on the planet! As a first year and a second year, I buy into the hype–I mean, I’m borrowing thousands of dollars to buy into that hype, because it’s true.

There were a few highlights of being an Imagine Day Orientations Leader. We’ll start with the end: my group called me “super cool”/”mega awesome”. I’m really very proud of that. But I’m also glad that my group became a group. Although individually the members of my own Imagine Day group last year were quite pleasant people, we didn’t quite “glom” onto each other–but I suppose kindred spirits are preordained.

Thankfully, quite a few of the first years in my undergraduate group were very kindred spirits. In addition to enthusiastic inclusivity, I heard strange conversations throughout the day–between strangers who you would think had known each other forever.

Imagine Day is all about orientating, yes, but another way I’m thinking of it as is situating. Although there is a literal campus tour, there is also a constant reminder–especially on the centennial of our university–that we are somewhere special. This was illustrated in a number of ways by a number of different people, but this year, it stands out to me that the University of British Columbia is located on the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territory of the Musqueam people.

Although unintentionally so, I registered for Canadian literature and Indigenous literature in the same semester. This proved to be a happy coincidence. Two classes in a row, I was reminded that being Canadian is very real and something to be proud of, but–as Professor Kevin McNeilly articulated brilliantly–being a Canadian citizen is not an uncomplicated citizenship.

I see myself as Canadian, and if I were abroad and somebody asked me where I was from and who I was, I would know the tl;dr answer I would give them. But, as a Canadian and as much more, it is not an uncomplicated answer. I am excited for the opportunity to learn more about the answers to those questions, by exploring what I’m becoming more and more sure that I love (the study of English literature) and seeing just what I’m capable of in other areas.

Here’s to a great great year!

Being an Arts One “Alumni”

Posted on by under Observations and Reflections, UBC

The night before our Arts One final exam, my seminar professor gave us these words of wisdom:

Dear all…. Rest up, relax (yoga, stretching, etc.) and try to remain calm on this Crawfish exam eve. This is a rite of passage for you soon to be Arts One alumni and I know you will all do well. Focus on the exam now and I will have news about essays very shortly.

I remember sometime around the ending of my grade 7 year–which had been a very good year for me–I had meditated and felt overwhelming sentimentality for the passing of an era. Arts One was substantially better than my grade 7 year. (That’s so strange. Being 12 years old doesn’t feel very far away, but suddenly being 12 and being 18 seem so far apart, and it occurs to me that 12 year old Jia and 18 year old Jia are two entirely different people.) Despite the fact that being 18 was much better than being 12, it didn’t quite hit me that I was an Arts One alumni, and I don’t think it has, really.

I think that Arts One has affected me more than it did for a lot of the people who I shared the program with, and I’m not even sure why that is, to be honest. I think we all knew that the program was wonderful, and I think at least on some level, we’re going to miss it (some of us more than others). It was easily the highlight of my first year, and I’m so grateful for what its given me. Other than the academic tools its equipped me with, I’m so grateful for the seminar I was in, to be surrounded by intelligent, worldly, curious, but still very normal students who were given to procrastinating and not always putting in all their effort, normal students who–most importantly–always loved to laugh.

As I write that, I think that’s what I might miss most from ARTS 001B LB2. I intend on having a similar academic experience through the Honours English program, but I will never again be in the same classroom as all 20 of the laughter-loving and wisdom-loving friends I made. Regardless, the things I learned from them and the time I spent with them will always be precious.

To any incoming Arts One students–make the most out of your seminar. The group I was in was so diverse, with a variety of interests (academic and extracurricular) and values and habits, but the group would not have been the same if any one of them had been missing. I could not have hand-picked a better group to go through my first year of university with. We were probably the closest seminar in the entire program, but it’s a scenario easily enough recreated if you put in the effort.

To my dear Crawfamily–thank you for your wonderful thoughts, your company, and your shared laughter. It’s been absolutely one-of-a-kind.

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Reassembling Arts One: Hobbes’ The Leviathan

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I almost feel like I don’t need to write a post about The Leviathan because Crawford has threaded it through Arts One from beginning to end–if there was a week in which Hobbes wasn’t mentioned…

… nope. There were no such weeks. Regardless, I’m going to write about it because it’s probably one of my favorite texts, and it’s definitely Crawford’s, so I’m sure writing knowledgeably about it on the exam will score some kind of brownie points.

Hobbes and Plato–despite their radically different philosophies on the nature of man–both use this dialectic method of argument. (e.g., that is true, so this must be true, and thus, this also is true, etc. etc.) However, I find Hobbes’ argument much more compelling. The numberphile in me is likely drawn to Hobbes’ similar love of geometry (another resemblance between him and Plato) and its application to the other thing I love, which is the study of humans. Kind of. Hobbes is a political philosopher, but it still applies.

I think the tendency is for people to misunderstand Hobbes. For all I know, I have… but there’s so many things that can be misconstrued and have been (i.e., Rousseau saying that Hobbes believes that man is naturally evil -> false). I don’t think Hobbes says anything truly outrageous, though. Making the claim that without a covenant to a sovereign, individuals are “in a condition of war of everyone against everyone” and that they have a “perpetual and restless desire of power after power” does sound kind of pessimistic… but I believe Hobbes can be interpreted in a way that isn’t so pessimistic. (At any rate, that’s how I’ve interpreted him.)

Firstly, Hobbes points out that this condition of war arises because man is equal in nature. Thus, equality of nature creates equal hope of achieving ones’ means. Already, Hobbes makes the quite liberal argument that man thinks, hopes, and opines equally, and to my university undergraduate student ears, that sounds pretty reasonable. Pretty compelling. There’s also the argument that there is value in cooperation, and even man in the state of nature, I’m sure, can recognize this.

Secondly, Hobbes defines power as the means to attain ones’ ends or desires. Christina Hendricks pointed out during her lecture of Hobbes that this could be a variety of things, and power does not necessarily have to have the ruthless, ambitious, possibly war-like connotations we have attached to it. My classmates gave money, friends, and even bearing children, as examples.

Isn’t it amazing how different readings can completely change a text? I’m pretty sure what I just suggested is not how Jean-Jacques Rousseau read Hobbes. I wonder how different A Discourse on the Origins of Inequality would have been if Rousseau had read The Leviathan this way.

 

Reassembling Arts One: Homer’s The Odyssey

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Considering The Odyssey has its roots in the oral tradition, I probably should have listened to it the first time around. I purchased the audio book of the same edition we were reading for class, and the narrator happens to be Magneto, a.k.a Ian McKellen, but that’s not really important. I just think it’s cool.

Probably the biggest stand out thing to me, listening to Sir McKellen read The Odyssey out loud, is how societal the whole thing is. It’s made particularly obvious because the interactions between people and what those people value and admire are so different from how my peers and I interact and what we value and admire. “Societal” probably isn’t the best word to describe it–but the interconnected-ness of humans is so striking to me.

Audio books are usually just sound to fill the silence for me. I’m fairly sure I don’t know how to go to bed without listening to one anymore. (I’ve listened to the Anne series almost enough times to recite them from memory.) I obviously can’t do this with The Odyssey, since I’m reviewing for the exam, so I make a particular effort to truly listen. As a reader, I skim by a force of habit. Big blocks of text and overbearing descriptions tend to pass my eye. Listening to The Odyssey and trying to focus, however, brought to my attention things that had not initially occurred to me the first time I read.

During the first few books/chapters, Telemachus visits his missing father’s old friends. As is the ancient Greek tradition, hospitality is of paramount importance, and this becomes so much more obvious, listening to The Odyssey. Homer goes into great detail about the homes and feasts of Telemachus’s hosts, describing the grandeur down to every twinkle and shine, to every flavor and spice. It’s kind of like, what a person gives is so much more important than what he or she actually has.

That same logic applies to the value of story telling. Lies are not condemned in this world; Athena, goddess of wisdom, even admires Odysseus for his skillful lies–even if they are to her. What a person says is so much more important than what is actually the case.

This is likely me in this mindset because of preparing for the exam (which is tomorrow [!!!]), but there are so many layers of self-made identity for the characters in The Odyssey (and Margaret Atwood’s almost-modern retelling, The Penelopiad), but that self-made identity is also shaped and molded by outside influence. I think The Odyssey and The Penelopiad are probably among the best (literary) illustrators of dialogical identity from the reading list this year.

Faith, Love, and Kierkegaard

Posted on by under Books, Observations and Reflections, UBC

Perhaps one benefit to being on the bus so often is that it’s given me time to be in my own mind again. (It’s simultaneously one of the evils of such a long commute, but I won’t talk about that.) I had barely left home this morning when I was already thinking pretty deeply, reminiscing about two years ago… and thinking about Kierkegaard. I know I just blogged about him, but that might be why I made a connection to him this morning.

Kierkegaard expresses this admiration of Abraham because of the faith Abraham has, which Kierkegaard says is beyond understanding. During my second reading of Fear and Trembling, I thought that Abraham and his faith were paradoxical, incomprehensible, just as Kierkegaard says it is. Could I imagine giving up my son–who was promised to me after years of being denied him–and even delivering the blow myself, for the sake of faith in God? No. I couldn’t. Not that I had a particular yearning to imagine, let alone know, this feeling of Ultimate Faith.

However, I figure that love is a kind of faith, especially loving again. I wouldn’t change anything of early-middle teens, no matter how ugly it was (in retrospect). After all, I’ve come to realize that I was in my early middle teens and not nearly as wise as I deluded myself to think that I was (and I’m sure the trend continues into my late teens), but I haven’t forgotten that everything I felt and experienced was very real and very valid. I’m far enough away from my first boyfriend (emotionally, temporally, and–thank goodness–spatially) to almost think, “God, Jia, you were so petty, you were immature, you were so ridiculous”, but I don’t want to give my younger self that condescension. I was fifteen, sixteen. (And I also recognize that I have to give that same concession to him. So, you know, if by some chance you’re reading this, this is a kind of forgiveness–not that I want you back in my life, because hindsight does wonders for a person.)

I remember feeling so angry, so frustrated, and so confused. How could you promise someone certain things and then cheat on them? Is that not in the back of your mind? What outcome did he see from what he was doing? Could he even see an outcome? If not, how does anyone live like that? So without aim, without conscience?

These are questions I still haven’t answered. (“He’s an asshole” is the limited conclusion I have arrived at, and I’m completely fine with it.) I wrote down once that no one could ever promise me what I wanted them to promise me. At the time, I felt like those kinds of promises were meaningless. Nobody knew how they would feel about commitments until they were at the middle or end of “the long run”. I remember being terrified of that prospect. I’ve always been a scheduler, a planner, and the idea that I could not be able to trust a person to stay in my long-term plan was so frustrating.

And yet, here I am, having faith in the long term, and it doesn’t scare me like it did at the time. Despite everything I said nearly two years ago now, I’m not afraid of being committed. I don’t think I could be, to be honest. It’s just in my wiring to want and have a partner like Nathan. I was so sure, even when Nate and I were first getting to know each other, that I wouldn’t want to stay with him for a few months, let alone for a full year… but this is my faith, and I am happy in this infinite resignation and this inexplicable faith. Being with Nathan is my incomprehensible faith. How could I believe in the long term? I don’t know, really, but I don’t think Abraham knew either. Even if he did know, Kierkegaard makes the claim that he couldn’t explain to anyone his faith, and that that is what makes it faith. And I think I can understand that now, on a personal level.

Reassembling Arts One: Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling

Posted on by under Books, UBC

As part of my review for my final, I’ve decided to blog about some of the texts I felt I never fully understood (*cough* or read *cough*) throughout the year with Arts One so that I can at least be a little prepared if I have to identify a quote during the exam.

First on my list is Fear and Trembling by Søren Kierkegaard, read along with the Book of Genesis, but I haven’t finished rereading that one. So first thing’s first.

The first time around, I had difficulty fully comprehending Kierkegaard, and I still obviously don’t fully comprehend it. Kierkegaard and I are better friends now, though. A lot of his argumentation seemed very stream-of-consciousness at the first time I read it, thus I had a hard time connecting ideas together and relating it to “the big picture”, but rereading the text has helped me appreciate the ideas better.

Something that didn’t quite occur to me the first time around was the implication that Kierkegaard was making on faith. Growing up in a very Catholic Filipino family and attending an all-girls Catholic school for five years, faith becomes something of the every day. Say your prayers–“God will provide”, even if not in the way that you expect. I agree with Kierkegaard, however, that faith isn’t something of the every day. It is beyond all logic, paradoxical in its premise and in its execution because of the universal.

I think Kierkegaard’s endeavor isn’t something that I engaged myself in completely the first time I read his book. I didn’t grasp how engaging in faith was engaging in something incomprehensible, and I definitely didn’t find myself admiring Abraham the same way that Kierkegaard does, but I’m beginning to see it now.

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