The Kitten Edict

Foreward: In sharing with my readers, the following was written declaratively to an abstract ideal which I decided to call "Kitten" and attribute qualities of kittens; this was so I could have a clearer target. I decided this abstract needed comfort, and therefore warranted one of my mandates. (Yes, I do, in fact, have the responsibility to give mandates in my own imagination!)



Oh, Kitten. Do not be sad, for you are Kitten and Kitten is not meant to be sad. It is meant to be happy, and full of playful and benevolent inquisition until its energy is gone, at which time your fuzzy embodiment becomes overwhelmed with tiredness and you take the rest you so rightly deserve. You are Kitten, therefore you deserve your rest.

As well, it cannot be helped that Kitten be loved; for kitten ELICITS love as a response and then as a drive. Therefore, *I* love you, Kitten. Do not forget that. hold it close as one such truth you can find, and sleep with it close in mind grasping nothing but it and the knowledge you have built up as a result of your play, which you call study. This, I humbly ask in effect, because it will help you, as will your sleep, and I wish you to be helped because of my love which you elicit. So, sleep now, beloved Kitten.

Descarte's Errors

Rene Descartes is a leviathan of a philosopher and a physiologist to boot; while alive he had many great ideas. However, he was oft misguided by logical suppositions that he had no way of disproving at the time. He believed that the pineal gland was the connection between the soul and body, and it stirred up "animal spirits" which flowed through the lymphatic system in such a manner as to convey the soul's choices and desires to the rest of the body. While this may sound humorous to those of us who know modern biology, anatomy, and physiology it is not that much more far-fetched than saying the truth. Our brains secrete Sodium ions, which flow at practically lightning speed across neurons and synapses to our body parts carrying messages and from your sensory neurons back to the brain and BLAH BLAH BLAH... you get the point. BUT, I DIGRESS.

Descartes' main error is identified in Antonio Demassio's book by the same name - Descartes' Error. I doubt I have the impetus to describe it any better than he did, so here I submit MY contention to the Titan.

Descartes once said Cogito, ergo sum. This may very well be what he is best known for. While it did (and still does) get me thinking, I currently find it to be false. My personal proof of existence is not enhanced by me sitting around and studying, reading books, working a math problem, or even daydreaming. I loose myself and my reality when I retreat into my thoughts. My preoccupation with ideas rips the world out of my fingertips, replacing it with notions - either correct or incorrect - but never in sync with time and what is going on. My reality is based upon one thing: Pain.

Pain never lies, and has no other purpose than to connect us to what is happening at any given point (or points) in time. Pain is what keeps us going, motivates us to save ourselves in dire times. Without it, we die. I'm not being melodramatic here either - it's called Congenital Insensitivity to Pain (CIP). Leprosy has a similar effect... it affects the nerves of the Peripheral Nervous System, causing desensitization; people would hurt themselves and not realize it, and that's why they'd loose fingers, toes, or limbs.

While this next point may seem at first a bit tangential, it's fairly interesting... Pain from an emotional event triggers the same neurological pathways as a physical event. To me, this exhibits a connection between myself and my emotion. Contrary to popular belief, Emotion is quantifiable and controllable. If I were to take an electrode, place it at the right place in your brain and activate it, I could readily elicit any number of emotions... pending the placement. So to bring it back around a bit, I assert that feeling painful emotion makes me feel more alive.

Just so we're clear, I'm not at risk of cutting, self mutilation, or anything like that. I may be a little more likely to throw harder for that last hold when climbing, or push myself for a faster pace jogging, but that's it.

To sum this up, SENTIO POENA, ERGO SUM. In other words, I feel pain... therefore I am.

a "personal narrative"

this was supposed to be a personal narrative, but it ended up being more fiction than fact. there's your disclaimer.

Personal Narrative: “Jenny – TA”

Logan Brown

Utah State University

The zip of my pack was unnaturally loud. I pulled it closed and listened as I rummaged through the next pouch. I pulled on the braid tied through the zipper, and focused my eyes on the teeth as they closed. I wasn’t paying much attention to the pack, the experiment, or even the animals. My thoughts were focused on that large, white, steel door. I paused, pulled on my coat, gloves, glasses, and then meticulously checked each pocket for their respective contents; my wallet, keys, phone, headphones, and two pens were all in their homes. I was ready to sling my pack over my shoulder – much like a soldier – and reach for the handle. I stalled again, if only for a moment. I reached out for the handle, twisted, and pushed it open just enough to slip through the opening into what I thought was an abandoned hall.

The first thing I saw as I passed through that doorway was the white of her eyes. For a split-second she was inches away, and we both jumped back in surprise. A few papers slid out of a beat up manila folder that sat on the top of a stack of books she was carrying. She swept them back into the folder with a twist of her hips and swing of her arms. She certainly knows how to move… I thought during the instant she was focused on the papers, before her attention turned back to me.

“Sooo… How’s your bird?” she asked clumsily as we returned to a socially acceptable distance. We chatted about my bird’s weight, the experiment session I had just run, and a few peculiarities I ran into; my bird had laid an egg the previous night, and she pointed out jokingly that I would have to start refer to “Him” as “Her.” My mind wandered as she spoke; as her gaze left my eyes, I glanced at her gorgeous golden hair. Her bangs had fallen out of place when I had almost bumped into her, and I felt the urge to brush them back over her ear. Her skin was smooth, soft, and pale; a sign she had been working long daylight hours tucked away in a lab. My gaze returned to her eyes as hers shifted back to mine, and my tiny indiscretion went unnoticed.

The background seemed to fade, shift, and develop a stark contrast as she spoke. It became like a movie scene. I couldn’t help but notice her chest rise as she sighed and flipped her bangs to the side in slow motion. Her voice became softer and slower, almost sultry. She stopped speaking, and a look of desire seemed to cross her face. She stepped close, lifted her head, and rose up onto her toes…

“… What do you think, Logan?” my attention jerked back to reality and the conversation. The colors instantly returned to normal. She was just standing there with her bangs hanging in the same spot they had been a moment ago; she had a kind expression on her face, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I, well, I’m not sure.” I answered sheepishly. I only hoped that she wouldn’t notice that I had drifted off into a daydream. “Um, I should probably get going to my next class, but I’ll see you later, Jenny.” She smiled as we said goodbye, and I entered the corridor that was now truly empty. I’m still not sure what it was that I was unsure about.

My footsteps echoed through the hall, and my mind ran through what had just happened. Images flashed through my mind ranging from wholesome to suggestive, and broached on wildly explicit. I did what I had done in these situations since I hit puberty; I pledge allegiance to the flag… My mind began to clear, as I mentally recited the pledge. With liberty, and justice for all. I pledge allegiance to her beautiful eyes, I want to press my palm against the small of her back, pull her into a firm embrace, we’d kiss as her hands grab my shoulders, pulling me in - my heart races her hands reach under my shirt running up my abs to my chest and one of my hands drops down to grab her ass pulling her in as my otherhandcaresseshercheek… I stopped in my tracks. 10 feet from the exit I clinched my eyes shut, bowed my head, shook it, and tried to clear my thoughts. I only hoped I could before they became too outwardly obvious—via my tightening jeans—so I could head to my next class.

Class finished with a low roar of students clapping books shut, the rustle of papers, and a low din of students talking about this and that. I stood up and paged through my phone, wondering whom I could take out on a date tomorrow night. As I scrolled down through the g’s, h’s, and I’s, I passed Jenny’s entry. “Jenny – TA” seemed to glow brighter than the rest of the names on the screen. I gathered my belongings one handed as I wrote a text.

“hey jenny, r u busy tomorrow night? wanna grab some pizza and catch a movie, or something? :)” As soon as I wrote the smiley face, I furiously pressed the backspace button. I kept walking out of the classroom, and down the stairs. I re-wrote it twice more, coming up with

“hey jenny, do u have some spare time tomorrow? i need help w/ my paper.” I stared at it, my thumb hovering over the send button. WHACK! I hit my toe on a doorframe, leaving a dark smudge on the otherwise pristinely white toe of my brand new converse all-stars. I heard a muffled snicker from behind me; I turned, and saw some guy’s face as he looked away and turned down a side-hall. I stepped back and bent down to try to wipe it off; I guess it had other plans because no amount of spit was removing it. I looked back at my phone, and just caught the “message sent” animation flash across the screen. I wanted to throw it. I was going to erase the message… or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself. As I started shaking my phone—not unlike one should NEVER do to an infant—it vibrated in my hand. I looked on the screen and saw a little envelope symbol, under which were the words “Jenny – TA.”

I decided to wait until I got to my next class to read the text. As I walked across campus, it seemed like the world was speeding up just for me. I tried walking slower, but the flowing push of the river of people didn’t really help. I still ended up at class five minutes before it started. I braced myself, and opened up the text.

“What time?” was all that was written. What an anticlimax. I can’t believe I was worried about it. I typed back a hasty note,

“b4 class maybe?” and got an almost instant reply,

“cant. Mtg. how about later, like 4-ish?” my fingers tapped out,

“sure. ur office?” and paused. I thought about it for a moment, and remembered my weekly volunteering from 2-4. I erased the three words and wrote, “no, im @ humane society from 2-4. my pups need me. sry. how about after? like, 5ish? i’ll bring pizza.” Only after I sent this one did I realize that I did just what I had set out to do, even if I did renege for a moment. I couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved, because it was already out there. Looking back, I’m sure my phone was relieved that I had achieved so much growth since my last text mishap. The phone vibrated just as I was picturing myself shaking it a moment ago. I held my breath as I pressed the button to open the text.

“Awwwww that’s so cute! i’m done w/ work on campus by 430, if u can make it I’ll stay till 5. No need 4 pizza, this shouldn’t be long.” My heart sank. Well, at least I’ll get some work done on my paper. I thought, as class started. I typed a quick,

“k. see u @ ur office” before putting away my phone.

I washed the soap off of my hands. My roommate walked into the apartment and closed the door. After taking a couple of steps across the linoleum of the kitchen he hollered out,

“Whoa Logan! Did you just get back from the shelter, or did you bring home a hobo again?” I poked my head out of the bathroom and called back across the apartment,

“Nope, no hobos. Sorry about the stink, Dallin! I haven’t stuck my clothes in the washing machine yet. I’m putting ‘em in right now.” I lifted the lid and pulled the knob to start the machine. I stripped down, threw my clothes in, and closed the lid. “Hey, Dallin? Would you toss my towel over here? I forgot to grab it.”

“sure, no problem.” I heard come from up the hall in our room. I turned on the water, stepped in, and soon heard the soft thud of my towel falling on the machine as I was lathering up. “Well, I’m off to the library. Need anything else?” I heard him say through the door, along with the rustling of his backpack through the small opening in the doorway.

“nah, I’m good. I may meet up with you later, though, we’ll see. I’ll text you. Take care, man.”

“You too, buddy.” I heard him walk off, and then the apartment door banged closed. It always did that, so I wasn’t worried that he was angry. I finished up hurriedly, threw on some clothes, and ran out the door to cycle up to campus.

I knocked on the door to Jenny’s office. From within came her familiar southern accent calling,

“Come on in, it’s open!” I slowly opened the door, and saw her leaning over some papers on her desk. She looked up, and for a moment I had a perfect view of her cleavage. “Hey Logan! I was getting worried you wouldn’t show!” she said as she sat up. The conversation went on, and I pulled out my laptop. She pulled a chair over next to her desk, and gestured for me to set it down. We went over the report, and as I put my computer back in my bag we started talking about things like class, professors, experiments, and graduate school. She helped me understand some choices I have; it surprised me that her alma mater was my first choice even before I learned she was from there. I slipped and called the University of Florida “FU,” and we both laughed. My hand unwittingly fell on hers as it sat there on the desk. She froze, and her gaze went straight to it. Her face shifted into the same expression I’d seen on my childhood babysitter when I asked her to marry me; her mouth was in a half smile, and her eyebrows were upturned with pity—possibly remorse—in her eyes. I retracted my hand, and let out a soft,

“My bad.”

“Logan, in case you’re wondering, it’s against school policy for a teacher’s assistant to date one of their students.” She said, still with that look on her face.

I hastily replied, “No no, it’s ok. I mean, it’s my bad. I didn’t mean to, don’t worry…” as my voice trailed off, I forcibly decided I wouldn’t let there be an awkward pause. “So, which professor would you recommend I contact down at UF?” her face brightened up as she smiled, and we chatted for a few more minutes. I thanked her for her help on my paper, to which she smiled and replied,

“Anytime. See you later, Logan.”

“Later, Jenny.” I smiled as I turned and walked out the door, thinking to myself, I wonder how many days are left for this semester…

yet another post for today - a research essay on Barefoot Running.

Barefoot in the Streets and Loving It

Logan Brown

Utah State University

Don’t forget to Stretch. Ever. It will come back to haunt you. A couple years ago, I neglected to stretch and injured my knee playing in a game of lacrosse. Since then, running has been more of a chore than anything else. For years I have loved the feeling of the blood pumping through my veins, but the throbbing in my knee often makes me stop before the adrenaline will kill the pain. Afterwards, I curse myself for running on it. Medical experts tell me that I should keep on going, stretch it, and that there is no major damage to its structure. That’s all good and well, but I feel like I’m wearing an ankle weight. Now I am forced to find ways to cope with these very real consequences; one thing I’ve found is running barefoot.

A few months back, I decided to play ultimate Frisbee with some people up on campus at the spur of the moment. I was wearing sandals, but I still decided to give it a try. I just kicked off the flip-flops and figured I would just jog a bit and have fun. My knee didn't act up, and as soon as I felt the adrenaline I kicked up the pace a few notches. Soon I was sprinting across the field, diving for catches, and making sharp cuts (the same type which originally injured me when I was wearing cleats) with little-to-no pain. I thought my troubles with my knee were coming to an end. I went home, took some ibuprofen, iced my knee, and felt pretty good. Sure, my muscles were complaining, but it was from underuse and a bit of atrophy. I had probably lost almost two pounds of muscle in each leg since the injury; I went from running for hours on end to running for about a half-hour before needing a short break.

The next day, I blew the dust off my running shoes and laced 'em up. They fit like a glove; my feet had pounded their imprints into them, down to each toe. I was still a bit sore from the night before, but I didn't want to let that stop me. I stretched out a bit, and then took off out the door. After a block or two, I felt that old pain again in my knee. I stopped, stretched out thoroughly so as to not re-injure it, and then took off again, making sure to slow my pace. I took a couple of hills, some stairs, and pushed it on home to find that old throbbing waiting for me after I came down from my runner's high. I didn't know what to think. It burned away at my hope; I regretted running at all, and was in a sour mood for the rest of the day. I planned on going to play again next week, thinking it was the softness of the ground that made it easier for me. Boy, was I wrong.

In my shoes, I slipped around and had very little fun trying to keep up with the others. I felt that they now expected a level of competition out of me that I had shown last week, but was now not providing. I noticed a few of the guys were barefoot because it was hot, and I decided to sit down and shed my shoes. The grass felt cool under my feet, and after standing up and walking around barefoot, I stretched out a bit and got back in the game. My performance was like night and day. I now realized that barefoot, I felt lighter. I wanted to hop, skip, and jump. Even with nice running shoes, my feet felt like bricks. Okay, I may be exaggerating just a bit, but it did hurt, and with bare feet I felt free. I stripped down to nothing but shorts, and started helping to make plays happen. I was outpacing my competition, and feeling like a kid again. I almost threw my shoes in the trash when I got home. Since that day I’ve had the benefit of reading an article by Kara Vromittag, Ronald Calonje, and William W. Briner about athletes that compete barefoot.

Kara and her colleagues took a look at foot and ankle injuries in sports, comparing barefoot sports to similar shod sports. Their data suggest that the barefoot competitors have more adaptive pronation – or rolling one’s foot so as to raise the outer edge and press down on the inner edge – than their shod counterparts, which seems to help limit injury (Vromittag, 266). I may not be an expert, but I think Kara’s explanations were astute, and easy enough to understand that she persuaded me to try out barefoot running in earnest.

I’ve come to believe that walking, jogging, and running barefoot have quite a few perks to them. Most people do not realize it at first since they are still in an initial stage of reluctance or distain. I have heard, and taken the time to consider, almost all of the reasons against barefoot running before even trying it. It gets your feet dirty. You could step in something gross. You might hurt yourself, or even pick up a disease. Oh, and your mother may have told you not to. That about covers it. Have you ever heard someone say that you SHOULD run barefoot? I have. I have reason to believe it’s good for me physically, mentally, and possibly spiritually. Oh, let’s not forget monetarily. I know girls that spend a fortune on their kicks.

I used to dislike having dirty feet. My aunt used to make me take off my shoes so as to not track dirt and other miscellaneous “stuff” around her well manicured house. From a young age my feet were supposed to be shod. Or is it Shoed? I digress. I was told that I would not be allowed in school without them. If I entered a gas station with “no shirt, no shoes,” I would receive “no service.” After all, dirty feet are practically a crime. Or at least, that seems to be the idea I understood since I was a child. Since I started writing this paper, I’ve taken to walking around campus barefoot. I’ve only been stopped once or twice, but I generally ease peoples’ minds when I tell them that I carry a pair of flip-flops in my backpack to wear when needed, such as when I use a public restroom. When I’m home, I simply wash them just like I do my hands. I have, however, been told that there’s a rule that I have to wear footwear inside by the facilities coordinator in USU’s HYPR building. Good thing I had those flip-flops on hand.

Thanks to my overprotective mother whom I adore, I grew up asking if any number of possible activities would hurt. I was not allowed to play peewee football because my older brother had injured himself in high school. Anytime I brought up motorcycles, parachuting, hang gliding, or other seemingly dangerous activities, I was met with a, “You could get hurt SO bad doing that!” and at a young age, I began thinking that way. Walking the streets barefoot would probably give Mother a stroke just thinking about all the broken bottles, nails, thorns, and used drug needles I could step on. It’s as if I were to be walking through a dump with a blindfold on. Earlier this week I decided to walk back from campus to my apartment barefoot; the only thing that hurt was some horse chestnuts I failed to notice that had fallen among the grass. Everything else just felt… nice.

My feet have taken a pounding since the day I could move; Mother always said that I learned to run before I could walk. I was the fastest one in my class until I hit one of my growth spurts. My tendons became tight, and I had blinding pain in my heels. I was diagnosed with Calcaneal Apophysitis, or Sever’s Disease. Don’t freak out; it’s more of a ‘condition’ than a ‘disease.’ Everyone has a growth plate that fuses onto his or her heel, or calcaneous. Mine just happened to be made taught by my tight tendons, and when I would run the fused portion would undergo minute micro-fractures (Noffsinger). So when I talk about foot pain, I am talking about much more than a stubbed toe. I’m talking about the pain of broken bones.

Many runners can understand my feelings about foot pain. There are five main injuries to runners, commonly called The Big Five. “The five most common running injuries: Achilles tendonitis - chondromalacia (runner's knee) - iliotibial band (ITB) syndrome - plantar fasciitis and shinsplints.” The major causes of these injuries are overpronation, tight or un-stretched muscles, and overuse. (Burgess) Some studies find barefoot running to produce less pronation than running shoes, spiked golf shoes, or spiked cleats (Stacoff). While there is no direct connection between these two doctors or their studies, the material seems to speak for itself – barefoot running can help reduce overpronation and thus decrease the occurrence of the big five. Although, admittedly, it can neither prevent overuse nor can it force the runner to stretch.

While running barefoot may decrease the severity of some injuries, many people assert that there are larger numbers of stress fractures involved in running barefoot. One study showed large amounts of stress to be placed upon the metatarsals, which could possibly be enough to cause stress fractures (Milgrom). While this may or may not be true, another more recent study at Harvard by Dr. Lieberman gave rise to another conclusion:

“Fore-foot- and mid-foot-strike gaits were probably more common when humans ran barefoot or in minimal shoes, and may protect the feet and lower limbs from some of the impact-related injuries now experienced by a high percentage of runners.”

This incites many to question whether runners are undergoing this problem because of barefoot running, or whether they are training too hard, too fast, and are therefore injuring themselves before proper barefoot technique can protect their feet. If you search runner forums on sites like therunningbarefoot.com, barefootted.com, runnersworld.com, or barefootrunner.com, you’ll find many people who would attest to this either through appeals to common knowledge, scientific data, or their own rough experience.

There are other factors besides metatarsal stress that give runners cause to pause before leaving their shoes at home. Probably the biggest reason that runners don’t take up barefoot running after researching it is that it will hurt for a while until their bodies become accustomed to it. However, many people opposed o working out use this argument: they don’t want to go through the aches and pains of taking on a new form of working out; and that is exactly what barefoot running is to regular runners in shoes. They never finish the ‘break-in period,’ so they don’t get to appreciate what comes after.

I felt more in tune with my surroundings on that walk home than I do on nature hikes. I can feel the warmth of the earth under my feet as I cross the dirt, the coolness of the grass and the shade soothe my heat after the heat of the pavement, and the myriad of textures pull my focus to where I am, what I’m doing, and where I need to go. My mind clears itself to make room as I absorb more information from my surroundings. I revel in my clarity. My alertness stays with me after a short walk, and my mind feels like it’s more adept and ready to accept new information. My mind feels open and healthy.

While we’re on the subject of health, let’s talk about foot health. Once upon a time I had athlete’s foot. It’s arguably the most common foot fungus with which we will have to cope. Most fungi – or at least this one – thrive in warm, damp, dark places (Athlete’s). Okay, now think about this – since our feet each produce approximately half a pint of sweat each day, our shoes will catch a good portion of that (Discovery). Our shoes may sometimes be ventilated on the top and sides, but I have yet to see a pair with vents on the bottom, where most of the sweat just sits. Basically, we walk around in what are effectively petri dishes. Going barefoot airs our feet out, cools them down, and obviously allows light to do its trick by breaking down what spores – a.k.a. baby fungi – you may have. If any are on your feet, they won’t survive. Score yet another for healthy feet!

Unshod perambulating – yes, I did use a thesaurus – makes me feel better. My knees don’t ache nearly as much, and my feet feel better. I feel more alert, alive, and I’ll even venture to say younger. It may not appeal to you, but that’s okay. But, if you were to give it a try, I doubt you’ll go without hopping, skipping, jumping, or otherwise enjoying the freedom you’ll feel from your heels to your toes. You may just feel like a kid again. Go ahead, I double-dog dare you.

Bibliography

"Athlete's Foot-Cause." WebMD. 02 July 2008. Web. 08 Nov. 2010. .

Burgess, Teri. "The BIG 5, the 5 Most Common Running Injuries - Injuries and Treatment Section - A Time-to-Run - Your On-line Running Information Magazine." A Time-to-Run Headquarters Site - Your Online Running Information Ezine/magazine. Web. 01 Nov. 2010. .

"Discovery Health "Why Do Feet Stink?"" Discovery Health "Health Guides" 16 Nov. 2000. Web. 25 Oct. 2010. .

Lieberman, DE, M Venkadesan, WA Werbel, AI Daoud, S D'Andrea, IS Davis, RO Mang'eni, and Y Pitsiladis. "Foot Strike Patterns and Collision Forces in Habitually Barefoot Versus Shod Runners." Nature. 463.7280 (2010): 531-5. Print.

Milgrom, C, A Finestone, N Sharkey, A Hamel, V Mandes, D Burr, A Arndt, and I Ekenman. "Metatarsal Strains Are Sufficient to Cause Fatigue Fracture During Cyclic Overloading." Foot & Ankle International / American Orthopaedic Foot and Ankle Society [and] Swiss Foot and Ankle Society. 23.3 (2002): 230-5. Print.

Noffsinger, Mark A. "Sever Disease: EMedicine Orthopedic Surgery." EMedicine - Medical Reference. 9 Apr. 2009. Web. 1 Nov. 2010. .

Stacoff, A, X Kälin, and E Stüssi. "The Effects of Shoes on the Torsion and Rearfoot Motion in Running." Medicine and Science in Sports and Exercise. 23.4 (1991): 482-90. Print.

Vormittag, Kara, Ronald Calonje, and William W. Briner. "Foot and Ankle Injuries in the Barefoot Sports." Current Sports Medicine Reports 8.5 (2009): 262-266. SPORTDiscus with Full Text. EBSCO. Web. 5 Oct. 2010.

MJP - ch.'s 4 & 5

chapter 4 was a resume detailed to a specific audience, so i'll leave it out of this. I don't feel the need to post my resume on my blog. at least not yet. so, here's chapter 5. (btw there will be only 7, total.)

_________________________________________________________________

My Journey in Psychology, Ch. 5

Logan Brown

Utah State University

My Life is full of backup plans. Back in my freshman year, I planned on going to graduate school. I researched various behavioral programs at the masters and doctorate level, and dreaming of doing clinical work for soldiers with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That was backed up with working in marriage and family therapy, also with soldiers. I told my brother that I wanted to do this – that I hoped to join the military for a 2 or 3 year tour, then come back and finish my undergrad, a doctoral degree, and then work with soldiers because they’d be able to trust me. I got an earful. He went off on me for hoping to get school paid for by the military, and then just leaving. He told me he’d be highly disappointed, because he viewed it as a disservice to the career men who worked hard. He told me I had no idea what I would be getting myself into. Truth be told, I didn’t.

I was embarrassed, and decided to skip the idea of being a soldier; it hurt my dream of connecting with patients through a personal level. I decided to give it up and focus on working with PTSD instead. That didn’t seem to pan out either. My sophomore year was riddled with indecision and doubt; I took on a couple higher-level classes, and failed. I decided to fall back to working with kids, possibly not going to graduate school at all. Then I was required to take a new course – PSY 2950. It was exactly what I needed, but exactly what I did NOT want to hear. I was tired of being told to do by others. It didn’t sit well with me, and I decided to change direction before it was too late.

As you know, that was not the right choice. Now I’m back in the field, and in a research position that I had craved. I’m correcting my past wrongs, and trying to prove myself. But you already know that, too. My current goals don’t necessarily need a degree. I hadn’t even thought about graduate school until I talked to my advisor, Teresa, and learned how close I was to graduating; two semesters isn’t that long. Before I had even wrapped my mind around a diploma, Teresa began going over the most advantageous times to take the GRE, and when I’d be allowed to apply for graduate school because of graduating in the fall. All of my dreams about Florida State and northwestern came flooding back, along with the idea that I could carry a MP5 and still be called “Doctor.”

I still want to train Special Forces soldiers. However, now I want to take it further. If I don’t get in as a seal, I will work mercilessly to become a behavior analyst as soon as I complete officer training. Post-Traumatic stress disorder is only one side of the coin. It may sound a little silly, but after becoming a Doctor of Behavioral Psychology, I would want to train black-ops. The government doesn’t even officially recognize their existence. If you’ve never seen the
“Bourne” movie series or read the books, I’ll only warn you once: SPOILER ALERT. At the end of the last movie, Jason ends up in a training facility on the edge of town. This is where he, Michael Webb, shed his life to become Jason Bourne. He walked in, and met the same man that had trained him; a Dr. Albert Hirsch. Earlier in the movie they alluded to the training center with hushed voices, saying there had been some sort of behavior modification going on. Dr. Hirsch was the one who took Jason from soldier to… something more. He was referred to as an “Asset.” Well, I want to train these “Assets.” I don’t necessarily agree with the Doctor’s character, or the portrayed ethics. But, I do want that same job.

I know what you’re probably thinking – this guy is off his rocker. A job he saw in a movie? And a bad guy no less! But I still have ethics; I’m IRB certified, and my minor is Philosophy with an emphasis in ethics. In fact, I’ll be competing in an ethical discourse competition in less than 12 hours from when this paper is due. More to the point, how many positions could the FBI, CIA, or Military have to offer a Behavior analyst? You’d be surprised. But like I said before, my life is full of backup plans.

I have a chain of plans, each one to back up the last. Behavior analysis backs up actually being in the special forces, just as working in a clinical field backs up behavior analasys. I have a few options to choose from; PTSD counseling, marriage and family therapy, or divorce counseling all come to mind. I’ve even thought of getting multiple degrees after my bachelors; I could apply for law school, or get a PhD in philosophy. They’re all various things I can see myself enjoying. If nothing else, I hope to be a respected officer working to protect my family and the American people.

All of these options, save being a plain officer, requires going to grad school. After coming to the realization that it was a possibility, I decided to take a one of the quizzes in kuther’s book - “Is Graduate School for You?” I came out with seventy-two percent of my answers in favor of graduate school; aside from the academic ruberic, a seventy-two is a fairly good chance. I’d take it any day in Las Vegas… as many times as I could. So, I’d say that grad school would be a good fit. In fact, I have a few programs in mind.

Back in my freshman year when I was still bright eyed about the world, I would get home from my intro to behavior class with Carl Cheney and go through various programs. I would look for behavior modification programs specifically, and I found quite a few that I felt were a good fit. While pricey, Northwestern seemed to be second to none; however, I didn’t think I’d even get an interview. So I focused on others. I talked to professors at Arizona State University, and talked to them about how their research would relate to PTSD. They agreed that the work was similar, but if I wanted to work with that disorder specifically I’d want to check out Florida State. So I did.

I went through the Faculty page with all the skills I’d gained from “facebook stalking,” or what I prefer to call “social research.” I found some of the professor’s articles and tried to read through them. They were completely over my head, but I wouldn’t let that stop me. I dug up the professors’ email addresses, and wrote to a select few. I expressed my interest in their programs, but I can’t imagine they took me very seriously when I told them exactly how far I was through the program, and how much further I yet had to come before I would even possibly be writing them with an earnest possibility of attending their programs. I wish I could say that I kept in touch with at least one of these professors; but I didn’t. Normally I’d tell people otherwise, but I think you can handle the truth.

I’ll need some sort of PhD, or at the very least a master’s degree to get a job in all of my options. A PhD would be preferred in all of them, but if I want to get a MFT, I could end up staying at USU for their marriage and family therapy program, but I hope to expand my world and attend other universities. At Florida State I could earn an ABA degree (Applied) through their applied behavior analysis program, which would be my favorite choice.

Now, if I were to need to explore different career options with these degrees, I would have a few different options. First, assuming I’m still going into the military, I could talk to my friendly neighborhood recruiter. Because grad school is still far away for me, I can make do with researching programs online once in a while. Or better yet, I could ask the Professors in my undergrad degree. For a more diverse opinion, I could go to those in my perspective graduate degree, or hypothetically, the ones I will work with while in a graduate or doctoral program. All this talk is starting to make graduate school seem like an eventuality, so I need to be completely candid for a moment.

Graduate students often share specific skills; ones that are all but required to succeed in their program. These are one and the same with the skills that USU’s undergraduate psychology program is trying to instill in its students: Knowledge Base, Thinking and Problem-Solving Skills, Reading/Writing Skills, Information Gathering & Synthesis Skills, Research Methods & Statistical Skills, Computer Literacy, Interpersonal and Intrapersonal skills, and Adaptability. Like I’ve said before, I feel like I have most of these. It may be my time crunch (I’ve only 17 minutes now), but I think I am coming along well in each of these areas. I’ve assessed my weaknesses in previous chapters, and I’m making strides to correct these deficiencies. I’ve discussed them with specific professors and TAs, as well as the Counseling center in the Taggart Student Center here at USU. All in all, I feel like I’ve been preparing from day one to succeed, even though I tend to procrastinate just about everything else.

Bibliography

"Applied Behavior Analysis at Florida State University." Psychology at Florida State University. N.p., n.d. Web. 13 Nov. 2010.

"Utah State University Marriage and Family Therapy Program." Welcome to Utah State University. N.p., n.d. Web. 13 Nov. 2010.

MJP - ch. 3

now, for the next chapter.

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My Journey in Psychology, Ch. 3

Logan Brown

Utah State University

As a Psychology Student, I have a LOT of leeway on how I shall use my degree. There’s quite a few ways to explore my career opportunities; I could look through various job descriptions for specific necessities that the employer asks for which a degree in psychology would make me uniquely qualified. That’d be pretty simple. I could also look at the jobs previous psychology majors have obtained. That’d take a little more work, but it’d probably lead to better results. I could even look at the areas often entered, the types of employers in those areas, and then look at the strategies previous psychology majors have used to prepare for entering into occupations at those employers; this has already been done by the University of Tennessee-Knoxville’s Career Services Office already, so I don’t have to do it. Thank god. Or, if I’m lazy, I could just use the USU Career Center.

At the Career Center, they have some options that allow me to explore my options for the future, whether it is grad school, or a career with a psychology bachelor’s degree. They have career assessments, which they say gives you a specific “snapshot of you” in each test. Some of these can be taken and gone over alone, but others require professional interpretation. The later sounds a tad convoluted, if you ask me. They also have one-on-one career coaching with their awesome super-well trained career services coaches. You’ll take time to talk with them as they get to know you, and they help you look at yourself in different lights to give yourself a better view on what might be a good fit for you. You could just check out the employment and salary information that they, at the career center, have so judiciously compiled for us all. You just have to search by your college (inside of USU) and your major. Simple… once you’ve done it, you should have a cookie. I did. It’s helped me realize and narrow down what I’d like to do, insomuch as it has influenced my class choices for next semester. If that doesn’t make me a more savvy psychology major, I dare you to tell me what WILL.

Online, I have other options as well. I could check out other colleges, try out personality tests (there’s the neo, the BFI-54 {aka the Big Five Inventory of 54 questions} and many others!), or even just check out websites like jobs.utah.gov or monster.com. There are tons of options, some of which I may have to pay for. However, why would anyone pay for such sophomoric results when they have a whole college’s resource center at my fingertips? I certainly won’t. Why? Because I already have a pretty good idea of where I’m going. That’s right… it’s time for a transition.

I plan on going into the military. I’ve already filled out the paperwork for my top secret security clearance, and I have friends who work at the acceptance office. Yeah, that’s right… the guy who decides if I’m worthy is my buddy. How sweet is that? Anyways, if you want to get specific, I plan on heading into the Navy to become a SEAL. But that’s not even my end game. I plan on using my degree in psychology (with an emphasis on behavior) to apply to become an officer, and then hopefully train other SEALs or Special Forces units. They’re the top-of-the-line soldier, ready to be deployed from the SEa, Air, or Land. They do special missions, which I have only heard of briefly. If I were to elucidate the exact nature, I’d probably have to kill you, my reader. Not really… but seriously. It’s Top Secret. If I don’t make it into the SEALs, I plan on trying out for the Diver program or EOD, aka Explosive Ordinance Disposal; that’s pretty simple; they dispose of explosives. Sweet. My older brother is a Diver, aka a Salvor. They perform a myriad of duties, from salvage to underwater welding and everything in between. They pretty much own the ocean. I could put my behavioral degree to good use in any of these. If I don’t make seals though, I hope to go to grad school under the banner of the military; I can only hope that it will ease my entry, because I don’t think I’ll get in otherwise with my GPA as it stands.

USU’s Psychology department is trying to make the program develop certain skills relevant to our future careers (it’s just another reason that I think our career department and Psychology departments are the best place to start when looking for a job). Anyway, the ones that I think will help me the most in a military standpoint are thinking and problem-solving skills, adaptability, and information gathering & synthesis skills. As a member of the Special Forces (yes, the SEALs, Divers, and EOD are all Special Forces under the Navy) I’ll need to be highly adaptable to whatever situation comes my way; I’ll need to be quick in my use of proper logic and problem solving in many situations. Again, if I were too specific, I’d have to do bad things. Realistically, just turn this paper into a Classified Document. Then you wouldn’t be able to read it, which would be no fun. Suffice it to say, half of my job would involve information gathering, not to mention analysis and synthesis of such information into viable plans for our continued operations. To be honest, I entered this class with this plan. All of my papers so far have alluded to it, and I feel like I am going to be a competitive candidate because of my studies.

As I said above, I’ve written my previous papers with this in mind. Meaning, all of my values that I wrote about in the previous chapter are implicitly incorporated into my plans. However, the best plans a man plans can go awry, and I could end up not entering the military. Sad day.

If I don’t make it into the military for some reason, I will still need to be marketable to other employers. That means I’ll have to go through the dreaded “interview.” According to the website Prof. Dahl pointed me to, employers look at a psychology major’s application for social, personal, and communications skills that the applicant has. If I (or any other psychology major for that matter) take full advantage of my opportunities, I’ll have those three skill types in spades… not to mention most others that they look at, albeit less heavily.

If I work hard and interact with my fellow students (which is practically required to do well) then I’ll have great social and communication skills; not to mention all the ‘socials’ and parties that psychology majors attend or throw. They’re fun, and they benefit my future! Whoever said learning isn’t fun must have never taken psychology at USU. My personal skills will be largely based upon the qualitative and quantitative benefits gained from specific classes I choose; in effect, I am choosing the page I turn to in my Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book of my life with each class I take. Thank god for advisors… Why can’t I get help from people who’ve already read those stupid books? Oh well. They’re not important, like my classes are. Or the research opportunities I gain from hob-knobbing with my professors. Or even the volunteer opportunities I hear about from the professors! My goodness. Professors seem to be an invaluable resource. I hereby declare next week to be “thank-a-professor” week. Expect cookies.

Now, these skills that most employers ask for are not necessarily specific to my field; I know the first requirement to my future job is to sign up. They’ll test me on my athleticism, and my psychological well-being. (Oh joy! I TOTALLY went to school for this!) I’ll have to swim 500 yards in under 12 minutes and 30 seconds… I’m right around 11:45, and hoping to get down to ten. After my swim, I’ll have a ten-minute rest, and then perform a minimum of 42 pushups in 2 minutes. I can do over 90, but after the swim will be another matter. I’ll have two minutes to rest, then I’ll have to perform 52 situps; again, in 2 minutes. I’m shooting for at LEAST 60. Go me. But wait… after another 2 minute rest, I’ll have to do a bare minimum of 6 pull-ups, and without a time limit! Last but definitely not least, I’ll have to run one and a half miles in under 11:30. I used to run a lot, and I’m getting back into it. This will probably be the hardest part. Psychologically, I’ll have to fit a certain profile; I’ll have to have a striving to be the very best. I’ll have to be stronger than the man next to me, and capable of enduring when no end is in sight. I’ll have a battery of tests run on me; nobody will be specific, but I’m pretty sure they make sure that they don’t hire serial killers. That’s about it.

If I want to be the best, I’ll have to be skilled, dedicated, and focused. I’ll have to be stronger, faster, and smarter than my opponents. I’ll have to be prepared, and USU can help me do that.

MJP - ch. 2

it's been a little while since i've written these, but they're a part of the "book" i have to write for my 2950 class. they're the next installments. and remember, these all have some somewhat arbitrary requirements, so if the subtopics seem out of nowhere, well... that's why. oh, and one last thing - these are in order from newest to oldest.

_________________________________________________________________

My Journey in Psychology, Ch. 2

Logan Brown

Utah State University

In my (future) profession, values are everything. I guess that’s why my class was required to take an assessment called the Work Values Survey. According to the Work Values Survey I was given for class, I scored highly in Security and Altruism. I also scored equally high in Way of Life, Associates, Economic Return, Intellectual Stimulation, Variety, and Achievement. While this test is somewhat insightful, I feel like I must elaborate upon the context that caused these values to be so prominent on the test. While Job Security and Economic Return may be no-brainers, I don’t agree with altruism as a philosophy on face. I may want to create a better world, but mostly for my family, friends, and myself. And because it makes me feel good. It’s not for others, although they are a means to an end, they are not the end. Even if it sounds bad, I don’t believe in altruism. Though Philosophy may be my minor, this is neither the time nor the place. I digress.

I value hard work, determination, and the ability to complete tasks in faster, easier ways. In High School Lacrosse I learned a mantra that has stuck with me to this day, “Work smarter, not harder!” Some people ask why in the world I would advocate not working hard; the answer is that I do believe in working hard, but so do most people. If I use my head, it will set me a step above those who don’t… and miles ahead of those who don’t choose to work hard. That – showing one’s true worth – is something I value as well.

Along with showing one’s worth comes an innate desire to work with others who are of somewhat comparable value on any relevant scale. This is true in theory as well as in practice. In the short term, I want to be one of the best – a U.S. Navy SEAL. That means working in a close-knit group of people you trust implicitly. I want to continually prove to myself and to my future colleagues that I deserve to watch their backs, and to have them watch mine. I may have been reading into the question on the survey more than most, but I think that just shows that I truly value my perceived relationships with my associates. In short, I want to be able to be a part the working force behind the achievements of my country, with or without the accolades.

Although I do value others, there are innately individual aspects of work that are important to me, such as having a varied, intellectually stimulating work environment. I don’t necessarily need to be doing something different every day; if, for example, I were a tool, I would want to be something that has multiple applications and is an integral part of the “tool box.” To sum it up, I want to be useful.

I previously stated that my short-term goal was to become a SEAL; in the long term, I want to either be a SEAL trainer with the application of a B.S. in Behavioral Psychology or a military councilor for either marriage, family, or divorce counseling. This is going to require me to be a capable and ethically sound psychologist. At the very least, I will need to adhere to the five basic ethical principles of psychology; those being the principles of Beneficence and Nonmaleficence, Fidelity and responsibility, integrity, justice, and respect for people’s rights and dignity.

My personal work values that I found on the Work Values Survey would hold me to a high standard, but even they are not quite at the level of dedication that a Psychologist’s basic ethical principles are set at. In effect, the only one that measures up is Altruism. Setting aside my philosophical dislike for it, altruism is at the heart of the field of Psychology. I admit that helping others with no other reason that enjoying it (and possibly profiting from it as a psychologist) is valuable to me. While it may not be the purest of intentions, I believe it is in line with most ethical principles. To be specific, it agrees with the principle of beneficence and nonmaleficence because we strive to do no harm even if it were to benefit from it. It agrees with fidelity and responsibility directly, because it encompasses the striving to contribute a portion of the psychologist’s time for little or no compensation or personal advantage. Other values also stand to match with these principles, though not as much as Altruism. The value of intellectual stimulation is inherent in the keeping of beneficence and nonmaleficence because psychologists strive to be on guard to protect the best interests of those they help, which can be tricky at times. It also deals with fidelity and responsibility in the psychologist’s continued awareness of their professional and scientific responsibilities to society and to the specific communities in which they work, in the furthering of the discipline. Valuing associates is also a dedication to fidelity and responsibility, through the establishing of relationships of trust with those whom they work… as well as many other ways.

Considering one’s values is an extremely strong tool in verifying to one’s self that they are in the right occupation. It connects one’s beliefs and morals to their work, where they may initially have a disconnect, and therefore discontent in their lives.