The Best of Breese House

  My freshman year exceeded my expectation is many ways. First of all, I hadn't heard the best things about my dorm after my roommate and I chose it. When we first met last summer we talked about our orientation experiences and somewhat cautiously danced around the subject of what we expected. Finally, we both admitted the people in our orientation groups from our dorm seemed strange. We worried that we wouldn't make friends, and that the people were all going to be weird or antisocial. So many people told us that they had found their best friends in their dorm, and both of worried that might not happen. 

The rest of the summer I sat on these thoughts, stressing about what it would actually be like. This was along with the worry that came along with going off to college in a new city in a new state. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. I was definitely starting a new chapter of my life, one with independence but also with responsibility.  It scared me. 

So when my roommate and I instantly clicked with not only each other but also with some of the people around us, it felt amazing. I knew right away that I didn’t have to worry about making friends or finding a place to fit in. We found people to hang out with, to go to dinner with, to go to football games with; we found friends. Right on our floor we had a community and a family away from home, and I have some of my best memories of freshman year with the people on my floor. 

We cheered on the Badgers together, we sledded down Bascom Hill, we visited the Dells, and we roasted marshmallows together. Yes, we did a few other things in between, but I would like to share some of my favorite moments of the year.
      1. The very first house meeting where someone kept asking Alex (my roommate) to hand them the notecards we needed and she misheard them so she kept offering them more cookies.

2. Basically every time Nan would walk up behind someone, breaking down barriers of personal boundaries, and not say anything—waiting to be noticed.

3.     The failed-attempt of group messaging any time someone wanted to play futsal. If only the guys had iPhones too, yet none of them do, which makes group texting next to impossible. Also, watching Brett try to use his computer or call it "The Google" was pretty amusing.

4.     Our impromptu trip to Science Hall, in which Evan disappeared to scare us within seconds of getting there.  It worked.

5.     That time I stapled my thumb trying to make scripts for our movie so that we could participate in the Chadbourne Olympics (in our dorm), and then the House Fellow on duty said he couldn’t help me because it could be a “liability”. The pain wasn’t so much a fond memory, but I always get a sympathetic chuckle when I tell the story. (Also, thanks friends for helping make that cheesy video.)

6.     Heath becoming an honorary member of Breese House—even though he wouldn’t change dorms he was there more than that one girl who’s name I don’t know because she never came into the lounge. Oh wait, that wasn’t just one girl. The point it is he was basically part of the family.

7.     That time Evan became the toilet king. Enough said.

    8. I loved how we celebrated every birthday basically the same way: door signage, cake, and the Nitty Gritty. And I LOVED the video that my friends made me when I was gone for the weekend for my birthday.

    9. Our Secret Santa resulted in many laughs. But I think my favorite was on How to Become Storch. I wish had the list of things to share with you. But I will give you a couple of tips: white v-necks, sweats, and Chobani.

1  10. The bon fire was our final Breese House activity, and instead of talking about it, I am going to leave you with the movie I made.

Live. Laugh. Breese House.

Preview of the "American Dreamer"

So this spring I coded a website. However, as previously mentioned, making the site live is a bit more trouble than I imagined. For now, the website is sitting in a directory (aka folder) waiting to be launched. Here are some screenshots from what I have been working on.

Note: This is very much a work-in-progress.

Construction Ahead. Please Be Patient.

Hey guys! Life in the Lost and Found Bin is currently under construction. You may notice some changes right now, and I will be updating until further notice. I am playing with the layout and look of the site to fit the needs of a maturing blog. As I have been working on this blog for almost three years, I would like to do some updating to display some of my new skills. I want this blog to show my writing and creative abilities. Right now I am feeling limited with the amount that I can change because of the templates and options that Blogger gives me. However, although I have created a website using HTML and CSS already, hosting it is a lot more complicated than it may appear every time you log on to your favorite sites. I will try to keep posting while I am updating, but I am focusing on improving the blog as a whole right now.

Thank you for reading my blog! I always appreciate the views, and it means a lot to have people supporting what I love to do. Stay tuned, because there is always something to share from the Life in the Lost and Found Bin. 

A Reaction to the Open Letter

Recently, a concerned member of the community posted an open letter to Wayzata Public Schools and the surrounding community. While I understand what a terrible tragedy the community is faced with, I respectfully disagree with the stand she took against the District as a whole. With what she calls “more than average experience with suicide” it struck me as strange to blame the loss of these lives on the school district.

I do not think that it is fair to say that these deaths were caused by the atmosphere, competiveness or academic rigor of Wayzata High School. The truth is when people choose to take their own lives the aftermath is messy. It leaves many people confused, angry, and hurt. But even more, it leaves people wanting answers. They want to know why it happened and who is to blame.

“The tragedy is, people die from temporary feelings of helplessness—things we can help with.”*

I agree that these young people needed help that they didn’t get. But the truth is sometimes the signs are nearly possible to see. Sometimes there is a cry for help, and other times they avoid showing signs because they don’t want anyone to get in their way of what they have already decided. I do not offer a solution. That is not the purpose of this reply. I wish that everyone who was contemplating suicide knew of all the available resources and options and did not think of death as a permanent solution to temporary pain.

But can we blame solely the academically rigorous atmosphere for these deaths? Should we ignore all other factors that could have gone into the ultimate decisions of these teenagers?

“I wanted to let people know that it’s ok to have suicidal thoughts and feelings, and that in fact it is a very human experience. I also hoped to show people that through talking about it, and by having someone else listen, it is possible to overcome the darkness that overwhelms a person when they feel helpless. This is something that I learned from my exchange with Neil on the bridge six years ago, and a message that I’ve been trying to pass on to others.”

I will not say whether it was right or wrong for the teachers to not talk about the suicides in their classrooms. That is for you to decide. But if another student in the classroom was contemplating suicide and saw all the attention and sadness this person was receiving after death, in their mind, this might validate their feelings toward suicide. It’s sad, but to someone one in the mindset, it might be seen as a way to get people to see their pain.

“The feelings that drive people toward suicide can be treated... But, despite the numbers and the losses, suicide is a phenomenon we push away, we mystify, even—it must be said—romanticize, as if science cannot begin to confront its cause.”

These teachers, like many of us, are not experts in suicide, death, or grieving. They have been trained for many things, but they are not prepared to discuss death nor to lead people through the toughest of times. In a perfect world, there would be no suicide, everyone would know how to deal with sadness and death, and all schools would be able to combat issues of mental health problems before they arose in such tragic ways. But in reality, we need is to recognize that there is no one “thing” that we can blame for tragedies. There are many factors that shape everyone’s decisions. I do not want to see another life end in suicide, either. My heart goes out to all the families that have lost their loved ones in such a devastating way.

But while we are looking for someone to blame, please recognize that school is not the enemy. The teachers are not cruel human beings. The administration does not want to merely shrug this one off or put them under such stressful conditions that it leads to death. They are not killing these children. I know these deaths are confusing, but I think as a community, we should be focused on helping the families that lost loved ones, and doing our very best to make sure that if signs of suicide are shown they are taken very seriously.

Respectfully,

Another Member of the community

If you or someone you know is considering suicide I encourage you to seek help because, and I cannot stress this enough, pain is temporary and death is permanent:

Styron wrote, “Depression’s saving grace (perhaps its only one) is that the illness seems to be self-limiting: Time is the real healer.” If you need someone to talk to, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, at 1-800-273-8255, which will connect you to a counsellor at a nearby crisis center.

*All italicized quotes were pulled from the article, “The Neglected Suicide Epidemic” by Emily Greenhouse. Read more here.