In class on Tuesday, we took a personality test from which we were assigned colors. Mine was Green: I'm driven by motivation, confidence, and logic, and have high expectations for most situations. I value equality- unfairness is one of the few things that can make me truly upset. The group of "Greens" was the smallest; out of the entire classroom, there were only three of us, which surprised me. I also noticed that Blue, the color for affectionate, empathetic, warm people who value feelings and emotion, was pretty far down on the scale of closeness for everyone in my group, but I came just a few points away from being a Blue. It's interesting to me that two categories that can seem so far apart actually both describe me really well. I consider myself to be a motivated and logical person, but I'm motivated by my passions and I believe that sometimes thinking logically means putting yourself in someone else's shoes.
We also took an MBTI personality test. My description was INFJ (Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging). At first, I was a little offended. I'm shy, but I don't consider myself an introvert. But the description of introvert clarifies that these people might just develop deeper relationships with fewer individuals, and that's something I can really relate to. I would rather have five close friends than 50 acquaintances, but I've also realized that there isn't anything wrong with just being surface friends with some people. I don't mean that in a shallow way; I just mean that we're all busy, and there's literally not enough time in the week for everyone to be best friends or get to know everyone they come into contact with on a personal level. Introverted people also recharge with alone time, which is definitely something I do. When I come home at night after being at the Union or class for 10 hours, my roommates know that I need to just go into my room for the next 45 minutes before I can come out and act energetic and social.
The term "Judging" threw me off at first as well, but it's just another way of saying what the color Green says about me: I have high expectations and a good sense of what others can excel at. This makes me proficient at delegating tasks and taking on exactly the right activity that I know I can do best.
The best part this test was that INFJ only describes about 1% of the population...and my little is an INFJ too! Obviously, we are a match made in heaven.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
What is your mission statement?
Think about your gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, special abilities or disabilities, age, social economic status, religion, birth order, and any other possible influences that come to mind. How have these factors influenced your personality and learning preferences?
The theme that jumps out at me the most within this question is "birth order." I have three brothers: Isaac, who is 19; Eli, 24; and Jeremie, who is 36. Since Jeremie is so much older than the rest of us, I felt like the middle child growing up and that really influenced the way I perceived my surroundings. This might sound a little dramatic, but I viewed everything as a challenge. I wanted to be smarter, faster, and cooler than all of my brothers in everything. New neighbors? They better like me more than they like my brothers. A tree? I'm going to climb that way faster than Isaac can. There are cookies in the kitchen? LOL at whoever thinks they're getting there faster than I am.
Even though growing up as a middle child gave me a tough exterior, I also developed compassion and have always been able to easily empathize with others. I may have fought Eli and Isaac for all of the treats in our house, but Eli was my idol and I was fiercely protective of Isaac. Isaac, who is 3 years younger than me, didn't speak (English) until he was 3 years old. Instead, he spoke a weird, Chinese-sounding language that only I could understand. I also dragged him around by his hair because I thought he was my personal doll to play with.
While I was busy dressing Isaac up like an American Girl doll, I was also trying to be as much like Eli as I possibly could. I learned every word to "A Whole New World" because Aladdin was Eli's favorite Disney movie, and when that wasn't good enough, I learned to play it on our keyboard in the hopes that he would realize how cool I actually was. He didn't. Jeremie, on the other hand, thought I was the bomb.com, but since I never had to work to earn his favor I didn't really care as much.
This was just a really long way to say that growing up, I've always experienced this common theme of feeling the odd one out. I've let it effect the way I interact with others, the things I choose to be involved in, and the way I carry out that involvement. If I have one regret, it's that it took me until pretty recently to realize this about myself. To take that a bit further, I wish I could also have realized a bit earlier that that's okay. This mentality means that I am totally comfortable putting myself in someone else's shoes; I can see experiences, situations, and feelings both objectively and subjectively. Being able to relate to others has been one of the biggest assets to my experience as a collegiate.
My mission statement: To continue to be an advocate for others, while never losing sight of my own goals, passions, and dreams.
The theme that jumps out at me the most within this question is "birth order." I have three brothers: Isaac, who is 19; Eli, 24; and Jeremie, who is 36. Since Jeremie is so much older than the rest of us, I felt like the middle child growing up and that really influenced the way I perceived my surroundings. This might sound a little dramatic, but I viewed everything as a challenge. I wanted to be smarter, faster, and cooler than all of my brothers in everything. New neighbors? They better like me more than they like my brothers. A tree? I'm going to climb that way faster than Isaac can. There are cookies in the kitchen? LOL at whoever thinks they're getting there faster than I am.
Even though growing up as a middle child gave me a tough exterior, I also developed compassion and have always been able to easily empathize with others. I may have fought Eli and Isaac for all of the treats in our house, but Eli was my idol and I was fiercely protective of Isaac. Isaac, who is 3 years younger than me, didn't speak (English) until he was 3 years old. Instead, he spoke a weird, Chinese-sounding language that only I could understand. I also dragged him around by his hair because I thought he was my personal doll to play with.
While I was busy dressing Isaac up like an American Girl doll, I was also trying to be as much like Eli as I possibly could. I learned every word to "A Whole New World" because Aladdin was Eli's favorite Disney movie, and when that wasn't good enough, I learned to play it on our keyboard in the hopes that he would realize how cool I actually was. He didn't. Jeremie, on the other hand, thought I was the bomb.com, but since I never had to work to earn his favor I didn't really care as much.
This was just a really long way to say that growing up, I've always experienced this common theme of feeling the odd one out. I've let it effect the way I interact with others, the things I choose to be involved in, and the way I carry out that involvement. If I have one regret, it's that it took me until pretty recently to realize this about myself. To take that a bit further, I wish I could also have realized a bit earlier that that's okay. This mentality means that I am totally comfortable putting myself in someone else's shoes; I can see experiences, situations, and feelings both objectively and subjectively. Being able to relate to others has been one of the biggest assets to my experience as a collegiate.
My mission statement: To continue to be an advocate for others, while never losing sight of my own goals, passions, and dreams.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
How are you a social entrepreneur?
I'm originally from San Diego. My parents moved to Cleveland when I was really young, and subsequently had the bright idea of homeschooling their three children. Did they want us all to be socially inept and bad at math for the rest of our lives? I don't have the answer to that question, but by the time 5th grade rolled around Bonnie had to call it quits on instructing her young in the arts of multiplication and Spanish as a second language, prompting the even better idea of enrolling us in private Baptist school. Are we Baptist? No. But I can tell you all about the practices of hardcore, inner-city Baptist culture: Girls aren't allowed to wear pants. Men can't wear their hair long. Only Satan listens to music with drums in it. No offense to any of my Baptist friends--this was a variety of the religion that I haven't come across since, although many of my friends identify with this religion. After 3 years of this social experiment, my mom finally decided I was weird enough to put into public school because I'd probably make lots of friends.
Because of this unorthodox childhood, I didn't get into social media until pretty late in the game. I had a Myspace until at least senior year, and I admit that with great amounts of shame. Facebook is something I didn't start using until the summer before college, and I had no idea how to navigate Twitter until the summer after my freshman year of college. If I had been asked at any of those times about being a social entrepreneur through those media outlets, I wouldn't have been able to relate to the idea. I saw social media as a basis for connecting myself to other people that I already knew, and to creep on the ones I didn't.
I've tried blogging before, but the idea has always made me uncomfortable. I don't like to think of someone peering over my shoulder and reading my thoughts- but isn't that what social media is? We post things on all of these different outlets because we want the reactions of others on things that we did, saw, thought, or created. Each time I tweet, check in on Foursquare (don't judge), or upload a photo to Facebook, I'm subconsciously thinking about the social interactions that will occur because I logged on. I might get 50 retweets (not), or a friend could simply come up to me the next day saying, "I died laughing at what you posted," or, "I totally agree." I don't know that I'm necessarily changing the world with my tweets or Instagrams, but the fact that we have an outlet to get thousands of people to pay attention to 140 characters of our thoughts instantaneously is kind of awesome. There's a trend of profiles on Twitter that can have anywhere between 400,000 and 1 million followers- variations of Common White Girl, Tweet Like a Girl, some even entitled 'no,' or 'k.' They all tweet the exact same things: "relationship status: eating" was posted more than once by every single one of these accounts, getting hundreds of favorites and retweets each time. I for one am righteously indignant and personally refuse to follow any of these accounts: a) because I'm immature. Why don't I have that many followers? b) If those 400,000 followers were being exposed to something with more substance than "if you think i'm ugly now u should have seen me in 2009," perhaps something a bit more thought-provoking could be set in motion. I'm not saying these accounts don't have a place on social media; clearly, they're very popular and get a laugh out of a lot of people. I guess my point is that I would rather be credited with getting reactions out of my followers with an original idea. In short, when I put a thought or idea out on some form of social media, and others connect with it--especially if I thought it only applied to me--that is when I feel like a social entrepreneur.
Because of this unorthodox childhood, I didn't get into social media until pretty late in the game. I had a Myspace until at least senior year, and I admit that with great amounts of shame. Facebook is something I didn't start using until the summer before college, and I had no idea how to navigate Twitter until the summer after my freshman year of college. If I had been asked at any of those times about being a social entrepreneur through those media outlets, I wouldn't have been able to relate to the idea. I saw social media as a basis for connecting myself to other people that I already knew, and to creep on the ones I didn't.
I've tried blogging before, but the idea has always made me uncomfortable. I don't like to think of someone peering over my shoulder and reading my thoughts- but isn't that what social media is? We post things on all of these different outlets because we want the reactions of others on things that we did, saw, thought, or created. Each time I tweet, check in on Foursquare (don't judge), or upload a photo to Facebook, I'm subconsciously thinking about the social interactions that will occur because I logged on. I might get 50 retweets (not), or a friend could simply come up to me the next day saying, "I died laughing at what you posted," or, "I totally agree." I don't know that I'm necessarily changing the world with my tweets or Instagrams, but the fact that we have an outlet to get thousands of people to pay attention to 140 characters of our thoughts instantaneously is kind of awesome. There's a trend of profiles on Twitter that can have anywhere between 400,000 and 1 million followers- variations of Common White Girl, Tweet Like a Girl, some even entitled 'no,' or 'k.' They all tweet the exact same things: "relationship status: eating" was posted more than once by every single one of these accounts, getting hundreds of favorites and retweets each time. I for one am righteously indignant and personally refuse to follow any of these accounts: a) because I'm immature. Why don't I have that many followers? b) If those 400,000 followers were being exposed to something with more substance than "if you think i'm ugly now u should have seen me in 2009," perhaps something a bit more thought-provoking could be set in motion. I'm not saying these accounts don't have a place on social media; clearly, they're very popular and get a laugh out of a lot of people. I guess my point is that I would rather be credited with getting reactions out of my followers with an original idea. In short, when I put a thought or idea out on some form of social media, and others connect with it--especially if I thought it only applied to me--that is when I feel like a social entrepreneur.
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