Popping Bubbles

I attribute this blog's stagnancy to procrastination. I've been meaning to blog about 'big' things, so I've been meaning to set aside ample time to thought and words. But I haven't made that time. Consequently, any sort of random outburst is prevented because I KNOW I can't blog about anything else but that which I've been meaning to blog about...... ANYWAY. EFF it, I'll get to those posts soon enough. In the meantime, let's add one to the "Saved as Draft" series, written early Aug:

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Stepping out SM’s door and onto Sproul plaza was like getting the largest of all bubbles popped. I had no idea what kind of world existed outside SM’s walls. Berkeley taught me everything. More specifically, Berkeley taught me to be sensitive to people. To people’s feelings, to people’s viewpoints, to people’s ways of life. Berkeley taught me that everyone’s different. There is no best way. Everyone’s got their own way. And you’ve got to respect that. Always.

Stepping back into SM’s door is like getting a new bubble popped. People in SM are still the same. I get back home and I hear “that’s gay” left and right. I get back home and I hear someone say to not vote for Obama b/c he’s Muslim and has a hidden agenda. I get back home and all I hear and see is insensitivity. I forget that there’s a world outside Berkeley that acts and thinks completely unlike Berkeley. And it’s bothersome. I can’t help but cringe when I hear a good friend remark about how everyone in East LA is different from “us.” I can’t help but cringe when I hear another remark about how people should speak English since we’re in America. I can’t help but cringe when a third says politics is a ‘waste of time.’ I can't help but wonder what 'alternate me' would've resulted if I had chosen another school.