Try Pod

I've been listening to NPR since high school because NPR is the best thing that has ever happened in US history, but I didn't start regularly listening to podcasts until I got to college. I started off with the same segments I would listen to at home, you know the classics: "Fresh Air" and "This American Life," but I needed more information and I do so much reading as is that I couldn't get my eyes to read Google News. So I started listening to podcasts that way I can find out what's happening while I walk to class.

My podcast subscriptions have increased substantially in the past few months because once you have one politics podcast, you really need them all just to see how other organizations are spinning/describing the situation.

It also happens that March is the month for a podcast campaign called Try Pod where you're meant to suggest your favorite podcasts to people who don't already listen to podcasts. (I know March is pretty much over, but listen, I had three midterms this month, so I didn't really have time to write anything and Spring Break JUST started so I'm writing this now.)

Ira Glass, the King of Podcasts, posses with Tavi Gevinson, the Queen of Magazines and Blogging

First, I'm sure you're wondering "Maame, how can I find podcasts to listen to?"
Don't worry--I got you. If you have an iPhone there is the podcast app, it's purple and comes with your phone. If you have an android I believe Google Play has a podcast app, and if for some reason you don't have a phone most podcasts have websites where they upload there content. NPR also created an app called NPR One with most of their podcasts as well as live radio.

Secondly, I know you're thinking "Maame, I don't know where to start!"
Again--chillax, I'm here for that. Here is a list of my favorite podcasts that I think you should all listen to according to genres that I'm going to make up.

This has since spiraled out of control and it's safe to say that I am addicted to podcasts, which isn't the worst thing ever--I could be addicted to crack or something. Anyway, I just spend all of my quiet time listening to podcasts: call me a podcast connoisseur so I'm going to grace you with my favorite pods. I am about to save you from your podcast-less misery with a list of my favorite podcasts.

PLUG YOUR EARPODS IN!

Classic Pods

"This American Life" 
NPR's "This American Life" has been running the game since 1995 when it came out. It's for the most part nonfiction stories about ... American lives ... it's kind of it the title (lol). Anyway, I really enjoy it because every week they bring you 3-4 stories that are loosely connected by one theme and they're always interesting. This is the best podcast out there if you ask me, but I'm also extremely bias; I wrote one of my college essays about the creator, Ira Glass (and got waitlisted, a bunch of haters).

"Serial"
The definition of a true crime podcast lives in the "This American Life" spin off  "Serial." Host Sarah Koenig picks a crime and speaks with as many people involved to try to solve it without really solving it. I listened to the first season before I really understood what was going on in the whole podcast scene. The life blood of podcasting lives in TAL and its related content.

"Planet Money"
Planet Money is an amazing podcast about straight up economics hostest by Robert Smith and Stacy Vanek Smith. They teach about the markets and how public policy affects it, and everything in between. One time they went to Kansas and bought a bunch of crude oil, refined it, sold it, and went to the gas station where it was being sold, all while explaining how the oil market works from start to finish. If you're into economics its a party.

"Revisionist History"
Y'all know Malcolm Gladwell? Yeah, well he has a podcast where he just goes on about a bunch of interesting things in classic Gladwell fashion. Weird topics like 18th century art, Princeton's racist-titled school of public policy, a menonite pastor with a son who's gay. Just listen to it.

Poli Pods

"Pod Save America"
If you are a classic Obama hack listen up right here and right now. A bunch of ex-Obama staffers (Jon Favreau, Jon Lovett, Tommy Vietor and Dan Pfeiffer) sit down in Jon Favreau's living room or something and talk about politics for the week in a really funny, but utlra-progressive way. They started a media company and now they just pump out new podcasts like every week it feels like. If you like a bunch of young retired people make political jokes you'll love it.

"The Ezra Klein Show"
Technically, I am an Independent, but that has never stopped me from basically being a Democrat, so all of my poli pods are left leaning. Ezra Klein is the editor and chief of Vox News, and his unimaginative title doesn't give the actual podcast credit; each episode he has a guest who's usually super accomplished in journalism, academia, or government come and talk to him a bunch of nothing really, but because they're so interesting you don't even mind.

Weird Pods

"Lizard People"
It's a fake conspiracy podcast and as a conspiracy denier, I'm down to drag a few of them. It's pretty new and the host Kate Hempstead is kind of bad at sticking to the topic. I wish that maybe they would stop focusing on completely useless stuff, but once they get into it boy is it interesting. I like the newer episodes more than the older one's because Hempstead is still getting used to podcasting. I think it's an up-and-comer.

"S Town"
A producer from "Serial" and "This American Life" got a few emails from a man in Alabama asking him to help investigate a murder. I have no idea why Brian Reed thought this was a good idea, but he went down from New York City to take a look. It's a very funny and equally sad podcast about death, the South, clocks, and some poison. It's a seven part series in hour long episodes and I finished the whole thing in two days.

"So Many White Guys"
If you listen to podcasts enough you'll begin to notice a trend: most of the big hosts are white men. Ira--white; the guys from Pod Save America 4/4 white; Freakonomics--Anglo Saxons; S-Town--from the caucus region. So, you can imagine being a black woman in the podcast game and only hearing stories told from one demographic, so Phoebe Robinson is changing that. Each season she interviews people who are not straight, white men until the very last episode where she interviews the token white man. The past season she had two token white men by accident, including Tom Hanks. I started listening to the podcast for its name, but I continue to listen because Robinson is just so funny.

The Fierce Urgency of Now

After the 2016 presidential election I felt defeated; I think a lot of young people did. I had watched the last two elections work out the way I, and the adults around me, wanted them to. A lot of us were convinced by the last eight years that hope and change and a sense of "we-ness" would prevail as it had twice before. "Love trumps hate," seemed so obvious, I thought it would be proven on election night. I believed in an America that was constantly breaking boundaries we never thought we'd overcome; I thought we could only go forward.

I was wrong. That new aged thinking, as it so often does, failed.

The weeks after the election went by too quickly, and the days since Trump's inauguration have gone too slowly.

I think if anything, almost by force, this past election has made me more proactive and forced me to mature. Prior to Trump's win, I let a lot of other people do a lot of the work; and I only did things when it was convenient to me, because I always thought it would just work out--like it always did.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said, "the moral arch of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice." I used to think it bent that way on its own, that it would just get better because it had to; I no longer think that's true.

The moral arch bends toward justice, not because that's the natural order, but because we force it that way. We have to constantly work against the prejudice and the hatred that can so easily move the arch in the wrong direction. Instead of thinking of that Dr. King quote in terms of how it must be, I think of it as how it is and how it ought to be, where we should be moving toward.

Since the inauguration, I find myself watching old Barack Obama speeches; my favorites are from his 2008 presidential campaign and first term. I think those speeches are the most fitting because then, just like now, people felt a sense of hopelessness; and just like nearly a decade ago, his words inspire me.

Me at my first anti-Trump protest.

In November I felt beaten down and almost like I would have to keep my head down and just survive the next four years. At the Jefferson Jackson Dinner for the 2008 presidential election, then-candidate Obama referenced Dr. King's belief in the "fierce urgency of now."

The "fierce urgency of now" was part of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech, in the part the teachers don't tell you about. It's all about how there isn't time to waste because every minute spent waiting is another second where people are getting hurt. Those words really set a fire off in me.

Let's face it we are being led by an incompetent and malevolent man. The executive order banning Muslims was really the last straw for me; and the roll out for it was proof enough that the administration does not care about human beings who do not fit into some narrow rigid definition of Americanism, and it's scary if you don't fit perfectly within it.

I'm sure we'll make it through, collectively as a country, we will survive these four years; but I worry for the people who have and continue to get hurt. Relatively small things like how someone told my brother to go back to Africa or how kids on twitter say the most racist things now-a-days. And bigger deals like how people were blocked from entering the country, families being ripped apart in ICE raids, the possibility of hundreds of thousands going without health insurance.

There's a constant lull of worry sitting in the pit of my stomach, but instead of allowing it to hold me back, I'm letting it push me forward.

I've signed up to volunteer at organizations the Trump administration doesn't want to continue. I'm getting over my fear of needles to donate blood. I've called my senators and the White House probably over 100 times now. I learning more about what goes on in Washington D.C.--ask my friends I'm always listening to a podcast now. I feel as though I'm helping to bend the moral arch, instead of just being a bystander.

As I start mobilizing and see others a think about the brokenhearted girl sitting in Ujamaa back in November, I wish she knew the community that was forming around her. I wish she knew that the Women's March on Washington would be the biggest protest in US history--I wish she knew the collective power of the people bending the moral arch alongside her. I wish she knew her own power.

I wish she knew that she would feel the fierce urgency of now.

Moving Forward

I'm honored. I'm disappointed. I'm scared. I'm finding comfort.

I'm honored to have cast my first vote in a presidential election in favor of Hillary Rodham Clinton, the most qualified person for the job this country has ever seen. I caucused for Hillary, I donated to her campaign, I made buttons, I did what I could and I'm honored to have done it. I'm so glad that my first vote went to a woman who truly wanted to help this nation; a person who ran a campaign built on unity, not the destruction of the "other."

The Hillary button I made and
pinned to my backpack
in the weeks leading up to the election.

But I'm disappointed in our country. I knew that there was so much more to do, but I didn't realize the power of white supremacy. This nation elected a candidate backed by the KKK and other neo-Nazi, white supremacist groups. We thought we had come so far, but it's clear that with every step forward there are four steps back.

I'm scared for myself, I'm scared for women, immigrants, Muslims, POC, LBGT+, and disabled people. I don't feel safe in the country I have called home for so long. Last night I was surrounded by so many people but we all felt so alone; our country abandoned us. I walked out of my dorm today and I was afraid of the people I met; I was unsure of who to trust, who actually cares about me, who was on my side, I still am.

After a restless, tear-filled night, followed by a stressful, tear-filled morning, I sat in my adviser's office with tissues in both hands trying to figure out where we go from here. How do we regroup? How do we look forward? Earlier, I broke down and subsequently shut down: I was distraught. But in his words I found comfort, and I realized that it was more prevalent than I thought. I'm finding some comfort in the people who support me and in those that I support. I'm finding some comfort in my tears. I'm finding some comfort in my Lord. Soon, I will begin to heal, but for now I will grieve.

Me, on Nov. 8, 2016,
holding my "I voted" sticker.

I can't say that I believe Trump was the best thing for our county, but he is what we'll have this January. I keep hearing a lot of people promise to leave, but  I can't leave this country. McGill is a fine institution, but I'm going to stay here (even though, I will admit, I checked the transfer policy for international students). I'm going to fight: Trump may have won this election but we can not let the ideologies he normalized remain popular opinions.

After the Constitutional Convention Benjamin Franklin said we have "a republic, if you can keep it."

"If you can keep it." 

Ben Franklin was a pretty terrible person, but he got at least one thing right. Our republic exists because of us, and if we leave, or stop pushing for equality and acceptance, or give up on it, we threaten the livelihood of this nation.

Can we?

I'm staying in the US, I'm staying at my university, I'm not giving up. I'm trying to wrestle with what the future will bring and I'm scared, but I am not losing hope in what this country can be. You shouldn't lose hope either.

Maame's College Extravaganza: Where is She Now

Hello...it's me...I haven't made a blog post in six months. I would like to tell you that I was taking a hiatus or that I was really busy, but really I just got really lazy after college decisions came out if I am being completely honest here. Ok let's debrief: I picked a college fun fact, I left Kansas for a state governed by a Kennedy (technically an ex-Kennedy, but it's water under the bridge to me). The freshman fifteen has not happened yet, actually here is what I look like now:

An actual photo of me, taken last week.

I accidentally stumbled on one of my old College Extravaganza posts, and now that I've been living on campus for nearly two months, I'm a seasoned professional of college life. During my visit to Cornell a year ago, I was really taken aback by how hilly it was. I remain completely taken aback by the hills. I also gave the geofilters a 6/10: I stand behind that. However, after becoming a student here with a Cornell water bottle and all, I've learned that the backwards-walking tour guide skipped a few things.

1. There are spiders everywhere. I'm not sure if it's just my hall or if Ithaca, NY sits on an ancient spider birthing place, but I cannot escape the spiders and it's killing me. Big spiders, little spiders, reoccurring spiders--you think you killed them but somehow they come back.
2. I swear every day on campus is a fashion show. You really can't leave your dorm for anything unless you are fully prepared for a fashion photographer to snap a picture of you. When it's sunny, rainy, overcast, cold, warm, you name it--everybody is well dressed. I wore sweatpants to class today and I couldn't even look anyone in the eye because I look like a bum. It's a struggle because classes are already hard as it is and on top of that you have to look put together.
3. Kansas is apparently a Southern tropical state. Around-hmmm- 98% of Cornell undergraduates are from Long Island alone, so when I tell people I'm from Kansas they are really shocked, then they make Wizard of Oz jokes, until finally they start to ask questions. I really thought I had heard it all before until people started asking me about non-Dorothy related information.
   
   

   "Does it snow in Kansas?"
   "Where's Kansas?"
   "Do you live on a farm?" pic.twitter.com/jxbg7zJJUU

   — Maud Maame (@duhmaame) September 6, 2016

4. 2am is a really good time. All of my assignments require a lot of reading and between tanking my exams or being slightly sleep deprived, I've chosen the latter. 2am is very chill: it's earlier than the 4am panic that comes with a frantic all nighter, the spiders have gone to sleep, my hall us usually quiet, and by that point I'm so tired I just hunker down and focus because I want to sleep.
5. 9am is a horrible time. I have a 9am class twice a week, and every day when my alarm goes off at 8, I feel like I'm being dragged into the inner-most circle of Dante's Inferno until I remember the per-class price of my lecture; that's when I finally wake up. 
6. I'm spoiled by Cornell Dining. I knew prior to attending that Cornell has really good dining hall food, but I didn't know how much it would affect me until I was complaining about my sirloin steak being overcooked. I'm going to leave it at that.
7. Patagonia is a big deal??? I'm not entirely sure why???
8. Cornell-made ice cream is essentially sugar mixed with frozen butter???

The best thing about Cornell so far though is how helpful people have been; with the exception of the few boys I once overheard talking about how helping people is stupid. Maybe it's because I scream "freshman." Or maybe it's because everybody thinks I'm this poor, sad wheat farmer from Kansas. I'm not sure--but every time I get lost I always manage to find someone willing to help me and that really nice. 

Now for Cornell at a glance: The geofilters have improved slightly, but still nothing on Lawrence's improved filters, so the 6/10 stands. I'm giving every single walkway that is at anytime uphill a 0/10 because I actually hate them and I don't want toned legs; I want comfort. As for my classes they'll all receive an 8/10 because I like them, but they're stressful. 

One Art

When I completed the bulk of my college applications this past January at nearly 2 am, I left my desk in my room, went to my living room, put on my favorite movie score and cried. That sounds really weird, finishing such a tedious thing should be almost euphoric--I'm about to start the next chapter of my life--but it felt very bittersweet.

For me, it came down to location: every school I applied to (that day) was in the East Coast, so if I got what I wanted, I was moving 1,500 miles away. And it hit me all then, really hit me, but I didn't know what to do so I cried. It's not like I wasn't excited to move, I'm still excited to move, but I was thinking about how nearly everyone else was going to stay at least in Midwest, and I thought about how when I come home to visit everything will have changed without me.

Now that the college application process is over, Ivy day is over, I'm pretty sure I know where I'm going in the Fall (75% sure). I think back in January I was really scared of change, and I still am to be honest, but I'm doing a better job of coping with my fear. I kept thinking about what I'd be missing: my family, my friends, my hometown; and didn't think about what I would be gaining in return: a stellar education, new friends, a new experience.

There's a poem by Elizabeth Bishop called "One Art" that talks about how loss is an art, but it doesn't always lead to disaster. It's meant ironically, because for her, loss is very much a disaster. And the author just keeps telling herself that she's fine until she believes it, but she never really does. I kept doing that with my fear for the longest time, saying that I'd be fine being gone, that I would figure something out, but it finally clicked that I'm not really losing anything by moving.

My hometown isn't going to get up and leave just because I'm not there. My family is still going to love me. The friends that I have here are people that I trust will continue being my friends even if it means we won't see each other everyday. I'm not losing like Ms. Bishop, I'm redistributing myself and my time, and that's okay.

In recent weeks I've had a few falling outs with people I considered friends, so as time goes on, I think making a change might be good for me. My college options are looking great, and I will be in a more healthy environment, I think. As I get closer to finishing high school, I'm looking even looking forward to the change I thought I would dread.

People always talk about how college matures you, and I have no idea if that's true yet since I still have a month and a half left of high school, but just having gone through the college application process has taught me a lot about myself.

I'm going on a college visit for accepted students in a few days, I'm very excited about it. It's one of the schools I blogged about on my College Extravaganza. I hope I'll have time to blog about my experience.

Revisionist History

Summer 2015 has come to an end if you couldn't tell and it didn't feel right not having a blog post about my final summer as a high school student. I also realized that I've had my blog for over a year now and while reminiscing on my first few posts, I really miss my lists. So instead of entire paragraphs filled with details that I'd rather not share all over the internet, I'll use bullet points and lack specificity.

This summer I think it's safe to say that I learned a lot about myself, the world around me, the world beyond me, my friends and my family. At first I thought that my summer was really boring, but the revisionist historian inside of me realized that I did, in fact, have a "Cool For the Summer" worthy three months.

Things I learned the easy way:

• Around 8 hours worth of information about the 1970s.
• The Cosmos makes you sit around for days questioning if you should major in astrophysics.
• Spotify Premium at 99 cents a month for three months is worth it. 
• Manhattan, KS and Manhattan, NY are very different places. The Little Apple has great people that I know, but the Big Apple has great people that I wish I knew and also jaywalkers. 
• Reading Americanah in a car ride with your African parents is a great way to bond.
• PHHHOTO is a great app and downtown in my hometown is filled with so many fun and interesting places that lead to great PHHHOTOs.
• I can fit my entire body into an XXL Girls State sweatshirt and walk around a conference Marriott with very little trouble.
• Believe in yourself because other people think you're doing a great job, even when you don't think so.
• I'm very good at making it rain with $1 bills and Dallas Dollars.
• I'm also heartless when it comes to silent auctions.
• College tours are great.
• I love the East Coast: there's something empowering about being in a thunderstorm and knowing that there will not be a tornado warning.
• Niagra Falls boat rides are effectively water parks.
• Twitter is a great way to keep in touch with your friends from camp.
• I'm not as competitive as I, or anyone thinks I am.
• Live musicals are really great. It doesn't even matter if it's professionals or youth performances.
• Just about nothing is opened 24/7.
• Turn off your Twitter notifications if you make a bumpin' tweet that gets a lot of attention.

Things I learned the hard way:

• People from small towns tend to have lower reading comprehension levels than that of people from larger towns because small towns don't have libraries.
• Small town people don't like you asking them if their town has a library. 
• The farthest bathrooms from Washburn's Living Learning Center without ever walking outside is in the opposite direction of the dining halls and up the stairs.
• Far away bathrooms are a great place to cry without the pity-filled eyes of the American teenage girl watching you.
• You shouldn't read the first 150 pages of Americanah on a plane that has terrible turbulence or sit next to people who like the film "Snakes on the Plane."
• Don't eat guacamole that's sitting at a sample station.
• The Marriott will ask if you need an ambulance no matter the situation. Food poisoning you got at the Marriott? Ambulance. Scraped knee? AMBULANCE. 
• Don't tell your Online Journalism instructor that you got sick from food poisoning because he will tell your entire class.
• I have no understanding of how to pack or how to unpack.
• "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" makes no sense in the slightest and the ending isn't a real ending and political machines are still going on.
• The state of Kansas has no money for anything, and some of our state Congresspeople think it's totally cool to patronize students instead of answering our questions.
• I overthink a lot of what people say or do and it just leads to me stressing out for no reason and then accidentally self-sabotaging or just crying, it depends.

Maame's College Extravaganza: Columbia University (Columbia College/ Barnard College)

The final stop in my College Extravaganza (before looping back to Ithaca) was Columbia University. I've driven through New York City before when I was younger and I've watched most episodes of Gossip Girl, however I've never been to Columbia before. I had no idea what to expect because Gossip Girl didn't do the best job of showing the campus and pamphlets can only show so much.

We arrived to New York through the Hudson River, or really, over the Hudson. I remember thinking about how much greenery there was in this Concrete Jungle of sorts. I started thinking about everything other people have told me about New York City: "it's dirty," "the streets are trash-filled," "the people are mean," and braced myself for the worst. My parents did the same, my dad was frantic about not opening the trunk, as to evade thieves, while my mom made sure we locked the car door three times. The City, obviously, is very busy. There are people everywhere. One thing I noticed was how there are traffic lights everywhere that tell pedestrians when to walk, but no one at all actually follows its instructions. As for dirty, I didn't find it all that dirty, I only saw one side-street with trash bags on it; however, it did have a certain smell to it, the city did. I later found out that the burrow that holds Columbia is the safest residential burrow, so maybe that's why I didn't experience any New York horror stories.

Columbia's campus is like Narnia. Hear me out, I literally walked through a gate and left a bustling city into an area of calmness, green space and beautiful buildings. Right after we entered we had to high-tail it to the Low Memorial Library (which isn't even a library #fact) where the tour sheet told us to meet. If anyone is wondering, the Low Memorial Library is arguably the most iconic building in all of Columbia, with its huge staircase and Alma Mater statue. I was a little tempted to stand at the gates and walk through again just to confirm that I was still in New York City.

After an hour long information session we were split into groups and led on tours by various guides. There was one tour guide that everyone in the room knew was the cutest, and there I was in my blue printed shorts praying that I would fall into his designated area, but I didn't. Having had one dream crushed at Columbia, I was a little sad, but I kept going. My tour guide was named Jess and she was like an older, Asian version of me (I was called an honorary Asian freshman year, so I guess she's just an older version of me). Being someone who likes STEM and liberal arts, it was good to see that people at Columbia were the same way and were able to pursue both fields. It got to a point where I was pretty much praising Jess for meeting my Queen Mother Ana Wintour, while being a lab aid for a Nobel Laureate. 

Columbia was a sweet surprise for me. I never thought I would've liked the school so much. I like to think of myself as somebody who can only handle the clean streets and strict ordinances of suburban America, but the urban lifestyle that Columbia was showcasing was interestingly comfortable to me. I think I realized that New York City wasn't as awful as I thought it was when we went up to a walking bridge on the campus that let you see 100 blocks in both directions, because it, in a way, made the city seem smaller: more tangible of being real. 

If you're ever going on college visits I suggest planning a guided tour because they really bring the campus to life. For example: Low Memorial Library stopped being some icon, and started looking like a complete failure: it no longer holds books because the architects didn't create a foundation strong enough for the weight of a library. Tour guides, from my experience at least, are students at the college, so they can answer admissions questions and college life questions. Plus, it's good exercise, especially if you're going on a college tour road trip where you're cramped in a car for hours.

The moment everyone has been waiting for: Snapchat filters. Columbia University itself had a lot of filters that didn't make a lot of sense to me like "Low Beach" when I was in the Low Memorial Library. New York City also has its very own Snapstory, which is beyond anything I've ever seen. Because of the building customized and burrow customized filters along with a citywide Snapstory, Columbia receives a 8.5/10 on its filters, better than my hometown. 

Lastly, we need to discuss New York food. My family went to a pizza joint and ordered two small pizzas and received these huge masses of New York style pizza filled with cheese and toppings. It was so good and we were so surprised that our waiter asked us where we were from, apparently all Midwest pizza joints do is cheat us all.

If you've ever been on a college tour, plan on going on your own College Extravaganza, or have a fun story from a time when you were nearly college-aged let me know!