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��˾��ý Agenda http://www.andrews.edu/agenda/ News and Events at ��˾��ý en-us Copyright 2024, ��˾��ý Sat, 16 Nov 2024 03:44:00 +0000 Sat, 16 Nov 2024 03:44:00 +0000 webmaster@andrews.edu webmaster@andrews.edu My (Last) Last Word http://www.andrews.edu/agenda/60211 04.13.2021 We’re close. Close to finishing another scholastic year, close to being globally healthy, and maybe close to giving ourselves grace for not always being at our best. It’s been a tremendous battle, as the continent shut down, as the economy plummeted, and as the planet collectively went into shock because of the pandemic. For recent or soon-to-be graduates, it’s an incredibly stressful time coming into a difficult job and professional school environment. We’re plagued with constant sense of immediacy, and in a year where our societal institutions ground to a halt, it becomes all-too-easy to feel guilty for not making more progress. I’ve been personally trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to be able to look at life for the immediate moment––if something brings joy, fulfillment, and a sense of peace in and of itself, it’s worthy of your time and brings value inherently. It feels like an unnatural concept when those things that bring joy and peace don’t directly connect to your longer term aspirations.         I wrote earlier this year that I was applying to law school during the fall months. Now, nearly five months later, I’m still hearing back from law schools. In the law school admissions world, this application cycle was drastically impacted by COVID-19 and its impact on the economy. With a 30% increase in applicants from the previous year, the competition for the limited number of law school seats greatly intensified. It drove nearly all of the top-25 schools in the US to waitlist hundreds of applicants––with some programs, such as U of Michigan Law and Georgetown Law, waitlisting thousands. It’s part of a larger issue of yield protection, basically that law schools do not want to accept too many students that ultimately reject their offer. Normally, a law school waitlist would have a 100~ applicants, now thousands of prospective students remain caught in limbo.         What makes this application cycle all the more difficult is LSAT inflation; when LSAT, law school’s standardized test, was moved virtually, scores increased within all score brackets. This led to law school median LSAT scores increasing across the board; in short, the schools that would have been safety schools for me going into the cycles became reach schools. God only knows what happened to any reach schools that I applied to. It’s unfortunate that this year happened to be the year I was applying in – it’s been incredibly stressful and painful having to reevaluate my aspirations. Even with the acceptances I received, the increase in applicants and LSAT scores makes scholarship money even more difficult to attain––the prospects of signing up for a quarter-million dollars of debt don’t excite me. Broadly speaking, every element of this admissions cycle that could have gone terribly wrong went terribly wrong.         Why do I say all of this? Recently, I’ve been struck by the length of time we have in life. Maybe it’s just a defensive reaction to disappointment and perceived failure, having a mindset where acknowledging that you’ve done poorly in the immediate future but knowing that you can always try again helps. As a member of an intramural basketball team for three consecutive years that has only won a single game, I’m familiar with the adage, “we’ll get ‘em next year.” But if there’s something profound, and hopefully to an extent universal, I’ve taken away from this year, it’s that almost all things that plague our mind with anxiety and stress today mean so much less than the weight we give them. The missed assignment, the late meeting, or the unsuccessful job application all pass; if Shakespeare’s Hamlet is correct, that death is the great equalizer, I’m beginning to think that the passage of time is life’s great neutralizer. And by this, I mean you will return to your normal, or at least your composite normal of however long since your normal began. For better or worse, time passing will not inherently change your larger teleological path. Yet, time will gently guide you back to your normal life progression.         The next few years of my life’s trajectory has experienced a shift backwards. Instead of going directly to law school, I’ll be working at a South Bend Probate Court as a detention officer for their juvenile center. It’s not the immediate prestige of attending a top law school, but it’ll allow this cycle to pass, provide me a year to R&R and retake my LSAT, and reevaluate where and why I really want to attend law school. I’m not a particularly optimistic person, so I won’t say this happened for the best. I’d genuinely be much happier knowing my professional school aspirations were secured; however, I’m convinced that it’s alright to give yourself time. In my closing paragraph, to any people who feel a similar anxiety for their futures, I want to affirm that I’ve probably felt something similar. There’s no guarantee that life will become better, but I want to believe that when our societal normal returns, so will yours. For all of those reading this and wondering how they will be able to make back this year and a half that feels like they’ve lost, I wish you the absolute best of luck regaining your footing. <div>  </div> Thu, 24 Mar 2022 03:11:18 +0000 Taking Stock http://www.andrews.edu/agenda/60197 03.03.2021 The stock market used to be an elusive behemoth; a decade ago, buying and selling stocks was considered to be a pursuit limited to those with a great deal of disposable income who could afford a financial advisor. There were certainly entry barriers to younger individuals, which was primarily composed of having the capital to actually purchase shares, as well as the knowledge to turn a profit. Without a solid background in the stock market, the ordeal might seem highly akin to gambling. Nonetheless, development of apps such as Robinhood have allowed the general public to make forays into the world of stocks at little risk and little expense. Drawn by incentives such as the offer of free shares, many university-aged students have begun to explore their ability to acquire and sell stocks within an affordable range. I began a Robinhood account a couple years ago, and I remember being thrilled to discover the variety of penny stocks on the site. In addition, Robinhood has also introduced the ability to buy fractional shares on the app, which expands the user’s ability to procure highly-desired stocks at a price that is manageable. Robinhood has frequently been on my mind lately due to the volatility of the stock market. It appears that the app vaulted into public consciousness after the massive rise in Gamestop stock. While each share used to be priced around twenty dollars, on January 28, the price rose to an all-time high of $483.00. Currently, each share is at around $115.72, which is a massive departure from the initial stock price, but for investors, devastating in comparison to the peak share price. Robinhood, due to the massive volatility, had actually prevented users from buying and selling shares, a decision met with much public fury due to the appearance of gate-keeping the public from taking advantage of the bubble. Even more fascinating with Gamestop's meteoric rise is its origin. Users on Reddit essentially increased demand shares through widespread buying, which raised share prices. This created an issue with financial institutions that held short stocks, which are stocks that are staked to go lower than their buying price. If the price falls, the financial institution turns a profit, but if it goes up, the financial institution has a massive issue. This phenomenon was remarkable, because it confirmed a rule of stocks: the general public can influence prices. What occurred with Gamestop was a singularity due to widespread, public cooperation, and has empowered the public to attempt the same with other penny stocks. Reflecting on my own stocks, I am exceedingly averse to selling. This has paid off with several stocks, particularly, the free share I obtained when I signed up for Robinhood used to be priced in the single digits, and now is $60 a share. Nonetheless, I had bought some shares of a cryptocurrency that has been catapulted into public consciousness and reached a high that I sincerely doubt will occur again. I should have sold, I kept thinking, but I remained static. Maybe tomorrow will be better. The game of stocks is not too different from our own lives. We choose what we invest in, whether that be money, time, or energy. I have come to realize that my strategy parallels my own choices on a day-to-day basis. I have invested my “capital” into areas such as academics, extra-curriculars, and work, and I have realized that I have become extremely averse to adding different activities. Although the aforementioned are certainly good things to invest in, the frequent feeling of burn-out is due to being cemented in a certain routine. Diversifying one’s portfolio is a common catchphrase when investing, and I believe that it is extremely applicable within an individual’s personal life as well. Although the majority of a person’s time and energy can be portioned towards activities that are predicted to yield the highest reward (i.e. academia and work), it is important to invest in oneself in other ways as well. Physical and mental health are of utmost importance, and it is important to dedicate time to physiological well-being. In addition, cultivating hobbies that yield short-term rewards such as joy and relaxation are crucial to having healthy shares in all aspects of life. Investing in stocks may be a risk to an individual’s wallet, but investing your time can only yield rewards. Perhaps if we took the same amount of interest with our time as we do our stock shares, our intrinsic growth portfolio would yield extraordinary growth. Thu, 24 Mar 2022 02:44:22 +0000 Where's the Fun in Winning Gracefully? http://www.andrews.edu/agenda/59136 Every Christmas, Canadians get around their TVs and watch the World Junior Hockey Tournament. It’s where teenage hockey players from the CHL, NCAA, and the European leagues come together to compete against each other. Americans know Boxing Day for the shopping; Canadians know Boxing Day for facing the Americans at the World Juniors. Almost every year, Canada faces the United States on Boxing Day––if not, the meeting happens later in the round robin. The annals of the World Juniors are filled with historic clashes between the States and Canada; Jonathan Toews’ shootout heroics in 2007, John Tavares’ gold-medal game hat trick against the Americans, and John Carlson’s 2010 overtime dagger to quell a three-goal Canadian comeback all brought about heartstopping moments regardless of your allegiance.  This year, the Canadian/American game occurred in the Gold Medal round; led by Trevor Zegras, the Americans defeated Canada 2-0. In their pregame interview, Zegras challenged the undefeated Canadian squad, “I honestly don't think they've been tested with a real team yet.” It’s a chirpy comment from a top-end player, the kind of comment that receives attention if they don’t back it up––but Zegras did. Tied in points with Canada’s Dylan Cozens, Zegras scored the first goal and assisted on the second––securing the gold medal, the tournament MVP, and the tournament scoring title. As Elliot Teaford wrote following the game, “Trevor Zegras’ swagger was impossible to miss Tuesday in Edmonton.” Zegras’ theatrics brought something special into the tilt between two hockey superpowers, something that would have been explicitly been missing without his comments. A number of hockey analysts took issue with Zegras’ comments, but I tend to disagree. His comments infused the game with life. Hockey fans know that almost every intermission interview will include a “We gotta get pucks deep, get pucks down the ice, and get shots on net.” There’s hosts of interviews devoid of passion or anything meaningful, but Zegras issued a challenge to a tournament rival that gave both sides extra incentive to play their best hockey. The sort of trash talking and gamesmanship, I believe, creates meaning in sports arenas and stokes everyone’s competitive fire in a way that we often look to diminish.   Electrifying the professional football universe, Johnny Manziel caught my eye during his 2012 college year––a year in which he would go on to win the Heisman trophy, the most vaunted award given in college football. With his mobility as a quarterback, Manziel would time and time again orchestrate mind boggling scrambling plays and ultimately rushed for over 1400 yards. Every game, Manziel extended plays with his legs and made off-balance throws beyond the pocket that turned him into a national sensation. “Johnny Football, as Texas A&M fans would dub him, popularized the “show me the money dance” every time he scored a touchdown. That fall, while Manziel tore up college football, I began playing quarterback for my local Adventist school––the “legendary” athletics program of Parkview Adventist Academy. I idolized his game, not necessarily for his mechanics or athleticism, but for his knack as an entertainer. He’d slice and dice, cut and carve through a defense’s linebackers and secondary in a seemingly endless series of jukes and turns–all of this to end up celebrating in the endzone. He’d look into the camera and rub his thumb and first two fingers together, a provocative allusion to the NCAA’s investigation regarding Manziel signing autographs for money. The NCAA is a billion-dollar industry that pays its athletes nothing, but Manziel isn’t sending a deeper message. It’s his brash celebration as he ran up scores against other colleges: A&M Football outscored their opponents by more than 19+ eight times, and of those, five were victories where they scored more than 30 points more than their opponents.  In a flag football tournament, I replicated Manziel’s antics in the championship game. I’d run for three rushing touchdowns, each time doing his signature celebration and each time being penalized fifteen yards for excessive celebration––worth it. It felt good to rip into one of our biggest rivals - we’d lost the last two tournaments to them. It’s one of my favorite sports memories.  Professional sports struggles mightily with defining, enforcing, and fundamentally explaining why or why not particular celebrations seem acceptable. Curbing a player’s passion harms the experience for fans and onlookers alike, allowing athletes to become fully invested into the competitive atmosphere makes for better sport and observation. The hostile relationships between different teams and players seems to unlock a deeper competitive drive, it adds the metaphorical “skin in the game” when two different teams face off.  The lines between friendly competition, healthy competition, and being a downright miserable competitor appear quite nuanced. To what extent should we allow gamemenship to heighten the dramatic and competitive tension in sports? Fans enjoy their team’s excessive celebrations and love to hate their opposition’s antics. Fan interest should not be considered in some utilitarian matrix where one team’s fans receive ‘X’ amount of happiness from a goal and subsequent celebration while taking away ‘X’ happiness from the opposing team’s fans. Sure, opposing fans don’t enjoy watching their team be beaten, but the opportunity to genuinely dislike a rival player brings something in-and-of-itself––the classic adage in sports: “the player you love to hate.” Likewise, this experience only becomes heightened in close games with more at stake, teams trading blows––in some sports, literally and figuratively, as each team continues to battle against the other. Excessive celebration in those moments seems to further draw everyone present into the collective sporting experience: players, coaches, and fans all breathlessly absorbed in the competitive richness of observing competition where something feels at stake. When it’s not only about a victory of a dozen-odd players, but an entire fanbase, city, or nation, you begin to reach the superlative nature of sport itself.  Works Cited Cameron, Steve. “The NCAA brings in $1 billion a year — here's why it refuses to pay its college athletes.” Business Insider, <a href="https://www.businessinsider.com/ncaa-college-athletes-march-madness-basketball-football-sports-not-paid-2019-3" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span background-color:="" color:="" font-variant-east-asian:="" font-variant-numeric:="" new="" style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: " text-decoration-line:="" text-decoration-skip-ink:="" times="" vertical-align:="" white-space:="">https://www.businessinsider.com/ncaa-college-athletes-march-madness-basketball-football-sports-not-paid-2019-3</a> Spiegel, Trevor. “World Juniors 2021: Trevor Zegras backs up bold interview with golden production vs. Canada.” Sporting News, <a href="https://www.sportingnews.com/us/nhl/news/world-juniors-2021-trevor-zegras-goal-assist-gold-medal-game-against-canada/w8wxepjc95pn1uf1uy21v4225" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span background-color:="" color:="" font-variant-east-asian:="" font-variant-numeric:="" new="" style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: " text-decoration-line:="" text-decoration-skip-ink:="" times="" vertical-align:="" white-space:="">https://www.sportingnews.com/us/nhl/news/world-juniors-2021-trevor-zegras-goal-assist-gold-medal-game-against-canada/w8wxepjc95pn1uf1uy21v4225</a> Teaford, Elliott. “Ducks prospect Trevor Zegras set gold standard at World Juniors.” Los Angeles Daily News, <a href="https://www.dailynews.com/2021/01/06/ducks-prospect-trevor-zegras-set-gold-standard-at-world-junior/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span background-color:="" color:="" font-variant-east-asian:="" font-variant-numeric:="" new="" style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: " text-decoration-line:="" text-decoration-skip-ink:="" times="" vertical-align:="" white-space:="">https://www.dailynews.com/2021/01/06/ducks-prospect-trevor-zegras-set-gold-standard-at-world-junior/</a> Thu, 16 Sep 2021 00:03:24 +0000