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learningsanctum · 9 months ago

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October 04, 2024

Studying constitucional law.

Back in February I had started this blog with the intentions of sharing my progress on the new and variated faculty subjects I was going to undertake in this new year. After all, I was finally at the higher education and things had to be different now, right? I wouldn't be barely passing subjects just like I did back in high school, would I?

Well, yes. The first semester was a fiasco of me barely passing and I had to retake most of my exams so I could score just enough not to have to take the subject again. It was disappointing but I didn't think much of it because in my heart and mind I had this hope and idea of doing things differently at the higher education system. I was going to make it right.

Then the new semester started and I was still not studying and sleeping on my free time, tired from working from 07am to 02pm and then going to classes from 07pm to 10pm. Still, I have a gap between 02pm and 07pm I could have been using and had planned various time to use it... only to end up sleeping the whole afternoon.

Please, do understand, I'm not the most health person in the world, much on the contrary, going to the GYM is a habit I have been postponing with the same excuse I had to studying "I have so little time and I am so exhausted", but I realized I had to start creating new habits if I wanted to become a healthy person.

A word to the wise I'd like to share before anyone thinks I suddenly came up with strength and studied all my subjects at once, I didn't. I started therapy about three months ago and you wouldn't believe how the mere fact of knowing I have one hour at week just to talk about myself to someone is relieving. Specially since I'm a very introverted person on general and really dislike bothering my friends with my problems. Therapy helped me to rescue myself from the dangerous trap I was setting up around myself; I was able to identify and actually think about me be going about life and days in a survival mode. I was so deep into surviving and not thinking that somewhere amongst the trenches I lost the sense of what I really wanted in life.

What do I want? That's what I had to stop to ponder about. Did I even remember? It was surprising to see that yes, I definitely remembered what I wanted.

My biggest dream was to go to study abroad. I wanted Cambridge and Oxford. Books, libraries, coffees and burying myself in study for hours a day.

Then came the next, most terrifying question: how could I achieve it? I used to be a golden child, know-it-all, teacher's pet and a goddamn academic weapon! And I had long fallen from grace. I started slacking at seventh grade when I swapped the private hard and thriven education system for the basic public one. I was a star in the public system because everything they were learning I had learnt already in primary. it, of course, came to bite my ass in high school since I assumed I didn't need to study anymore. And I know damn well that if I want a Russell Group university I will have to gain an scholarship. My country's money is worth nothing near the big European pounds.

All things considered I started searching about going to Oxford. Months of research and weeks trying and asking even AI about scholarships available for me to pass to university. Turns out only "Reach Oxford" is available in my country. And tons of people made sure to throw it at my face and say Brazilian acceptance rates in this scholarship were almost inexistent. I didn't give up. I have become set on my goals already.

Then I did what all girls wanting to bounce back into academic life do: I made a mood board, applied to a higher position then the one that I was (I passed!) and started to change my mindset. Day by day. Month by month. A long and torturous process that took a tool on me but was necessary. I had lots of setbacks and just this week I discovered the process to enter Nottingham university through foundation year is easy (if I get the desired grades) since it's an automatic progression pathway, but I have to pay a money that I don't have and believe in my current situation I won't be able to make anytime soon. Still I haven't given up.

Today, at my lunch at work - and it's important to me to talk about my work because while some people have the privilege to sit and study eight hours per day, here in my country, most low class people have to work to study and this ends up in a destructive exhaustion since classes are at night and work usually takes up all the morning and afternoon leaving almost no time to study - I had time to research more and I decided to prepare myself to study once I got home.

I though that since today I didn't have any classes because it's an election day and my faculty will serve as voting spot I would study the much I could for the subject I supposedly should be having today. I decided that even if I can't take IGCSEs and A-levels now because I'm very short on money then I would start studying for what I have in hands, which is my law faculty at my hometown. it's all I have so I might as well be my hometown's good before I become Oxford good.

All of this to say that I am happy to inform that today I studied one whole hour the subject of constitutional law and am able to answer few - even though more simple - questions about the subject. It means my therapy is paying off and it means that my hard work in changing my mindset is giving me the expected result, not only accepting that I might not have what I want now but also motivating myself to use the resources I have to make the best out of my situation. This might as well prepare me for when I finally am able to sit through hours at a library at Oxford to write a paper, no? ;)

And from this, if you have read this far, I would like to say that yeah... maybe you can't study like that one girl from the internet who doesn't do anything but studying... but sometimes half an hour is all you need to keep yourself motivated and to... honestly? Change your whole damn mindset.

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learningsanctum · 1 year ago

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May 8th, 2024

DISCLAIMER: This is not meant to offend anyone, this is only my complex and conflicting journey to connect myself to my culture.

Why am I ashamed?

What am I ashamed of?

Growing up my parents ultimate goal was to move to the USA, they told me "the green card makes your life easier". All they wanted was to make more money so they could afford a better education for me.

I went to private schools for as long as they could pay it for me and they still couldn't put Brazilian private schools on the same level of USA public schools.

They had me having English lessons for years. "English is the most spoken language in the world" my father said "you have to know English to be successful". And I was an impressionable child with corporate dreams to pursue, so I committed to the bit.

Soon enough I started writing in English.

Then, one of our acquaintances made it to the USA. He made the dream real, solid, reachable. We had hopes for a better life.

In one of our Skype calls he told me the weirdest - and most wonderful - part was the "dreaming in English", as he put it, when after a long day speaking the language you couldn't help but dream on it too.

In my mind, then, it clicked: the more English I consume the more native I become.

A though.

Everything always starts with a thought.

One damn thought.

It was what it took to put me on the road to self-hatred and to make me detach myself from my culture. All it took for me to segregate all the culture available to me- to categorize and "villainize" my culture as a whole. Music, poetry, movies, soap operas, everything was inferior if compared to the big nation.

My cellphone settings were changed to English and I proudly carried around the fact I spoke the language as a badge. I was over the moon when I first read USA texts and could understand them.

For long - too long in my opinion - I was the "English girl" I knew about stuff kids from my country around my age didn't because I would spend a lot of time on forums and alike consuming media like I was about to move to there any moment. I molded my personality to fit their standards so I wouldn't be a fish out of water once I got there.

I found friends who spoke English and taught the ones who didn't so we would speak it in school. A way to talk bad about someone in front of them. A way to mock teachers at the same time they would compliment us for being - god help me, this one will always haunt me - "way ahead of the other children our age". If I could go back and make they take it back...

American high school was the dream to be achieved.

So long being superior, knowing more, quoting Edgar Alan Poe.

"The higher you step, the bigger is the fall".

I didn't go to the USA.

Never even traveled by plane 'till this day.

And in no time, the lack of knowledge of my culture started to catch up with me.

High school took a tool on me. Of all the problems I had probably the frustration of being in Brazil was the biggest of them. Classes weren't interesting because they weren't in English. I didn't have to change classrooms every period and I wouldn't get my driver's license by sixteen. I didn't have a locker. There are no lockers on Brazilian high school.

I was devastated and fought furiously with my - this guy is a saint, I swear, watch it - Portuguese teacher. Professor, actually, he had a doctorate if I remember correctly. Me, a fifteen years or something old fighting a doctor on how Joaquim Machado de Assis is not "good literature". In my head, back then, it wasn't even literature worthy.

God, if I knew back then.

I wasn't "the prodigy" anymore. I was just rebellious. At everything. Closed in the trap I designed to myself and unable to connect with other teenager.

It wasn't until lockdown that I started to feel a certain need to be a proud Brazilian citizen. Not for politics, economy or raising poverty rates. Those are always present and I was never aware to them. There wasn't time to pay attention to my country's situation if my dream was a white picket fence house instead of a big terrain with a gate or bars and electronic security system.

With TikTok came the trends, and even in my self spite I couldn't help but keep my social medias American.

Call it irony if you will but it was an USA trend with a Russian song that brought me back to my roots. Or at least helped me question my actions towards my country.

"I'm just a simple Russian girl, I've got vodka in my veins, so I dance with brown bears and my soul is torn apart."

I stopped and then thought "after everything I have done and I am still not American enough. I will never be a USA citizen" and then "but I am American" and I was in shock. Because I always have been American. Not USA but Brazilian. Sharing the same America with them. Living on the same America they do.

Such a line of thought, however controversial, made me think that if I were to make an edit to this trend what could I use to refer to Brazil?

Making me follow all the way to the question I dreaded the most: "what do I love about Brazil? what is it that even makes me Brazilian after so long hiding from my nationality?"

To be completely honest I was stupefied by how quick the culture flowed in my blood and I realized:

I don't need Little Red Riding Hood. I have the Saci.

We don't have the big white house but we have a fucking palace in our capital.

I want to play games with Narizinho, Pedrinho and Emília at the Yellow Woodpecker farm.

I want to draw in any sheet a yellow sun burning bright.

I can read Capitães de Areia instead of Lord of Flies.

And I should study more about the anti-asylum movement and read about Barbacena's tragedy documented by Daniela Arbex in her GENIUS book Brazilian Holocaust instead of hearing more and more about the USA "gun problem" or "cameras on police officers' clothes".

I don't mean it as disrespectful or unimportant but I had spent so many time trying to reach the outside, the exterior, that I never once looked around to see the wonderful culture surrounding me.

The soccer, the music, the dance- God, I want to try capoeira before I die, I want to travel to see the Cataratas do Iguaçu and I want to truly understand my ancestors and the explosion of ethnics and cultures my country has to share.

And as the thoughts came and went I realized that I love being Brazilian.

"Festa de Ipanema, meu amor" - Movie: Rio, 2011.

Carnival, axé, samba, pagode, I want to dance.

Mônica, Cebolinha, Cascão, Magali, Chico Bento, I want to live at Limoeiro street.

O Auto da Compadecida (A Dog's Will), - and even Minha mãe é uma peça - it's a comedy I can laugh to with no effort, I can understand the accent and from which region of my country it comes from and I can relate to the joke.

Carolina Maria de Jesus is my Anne Frank.

Coconut, avocado, passion fruit, lime, mango, melon, cashew are not "exotic" foods, those are natural fruits I find with "seu" João at the small vending at the end of the block.

My fruits, my music, my tragedies, my country.

I still accepting this reality. But I don't want to be ashamed to put, even if under a username, in my bio, description or whatever that I am Brazilian.

It's part of who I am.

It's reality is not perfect but it's mine.

I'm not ever giving it up again without a fight.

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learningsanctum · 1 year ago

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April 30th, 2024

(insta: avecpeach)

TW: survivor, suicide attempts, cutting, depression mention and anxiety mention.

"A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." - Thomas Mann, Essays of Three Decades

I've been writing pretty much since I learned what words are. I can't barely remember a time where I didn't write thus I can't remember a time where I didn't express myself.

Sometimes quietly, pencil on the paper soothing the sharp edges of my soul.

Sometimes loudly, ripping apart pages when I couldn't rip my heart off.

Somehow... always alone.

In high school I had a brilliant friend with whom I could share my ideas with. We talked once a month despite being in the same homeroom* for the whole period of those long three years. Every time we talked it was like a explosion of new ideas and shared knowledge I believe I never had even with the "bestest" of my best friends.

We did also take the same bus back home. Once, after a particular day we spent attached at the hip, we entered the bus and we were talking about the medicines they had to take - because they had anxiety and depression - and somehow the conversation turned back to me.

I joked and said "I particularly have never been medicated nor diagnosed. So if I don't go looking for a problem then I won't have one." and that is a particular common phrase to here in my country, people often use to say they prefer to "avoid a possible headache" and obviously not meant to diminish mental health or anything of the sort.

They were telling me they took those medicines because they tried to kill themselves once, showing me the cuts and bruises in a proud manner as to say "I survived". In solidarity I decided to tell them I also had a problem with cuts back in middle school. That I used to cut myself and couldn't stop, sometimes it was more of an addiction then something to relief some kind of pain. I wanted them to see they could relate to me and I wouldn't judge them for their struggle.

I think their answer to knowing I stopped cutting myself on my own will forever be stuck in my mind, very deeply engraved in the cuts I recovered from.

"You do everything on your own, don't you?"

To be honest I was paralyzed for a moment. The sun filtered through the windows of the bus shining when it passed through their blond locks. The voices of the other kids were muffled all of the sudden and the grass of the field outside the bus windows were too green to be real. The sky too blue to be nice.

Somehow they were the only person I could read without trying from day one. How ironic is this that this ephemeral friendship would be able to read my soul right back to it's core? Just like I did to them.

Writing is what made me bound with them in the first place, so I think its only fair to address them in the same post as I address writing. They were poetry, one of the most brilliant mind I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Yet they had little and huge flaws that made them so real that for moments I felt I could reach her.

I don't think I have ever written about them in such manner, maybe because I was afraid of doing so and discovering some deeply buried feeling in me.

Even if they never know, they are the one who convinced me to follow my dream of being on the navy. They are the one who brought back my imagination in a time I thought I'd never be creative again.

And for that I'm grateful.

Because I don't know what I would be without writing.

Without expressing the deepest wishes of my heart.

Or darkest thoughts of my mind.

Writing might keep me alive but they saved me.

And I don't think they will ever know.

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learningsanctum · 1 year ago

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April 28th, 2024

A quick recap from my Sunday, which was fairly monotonous if not for my best friend's visit. I didn't see her for almost five months and it was absolutely lovely to catch up with her and getting to know "wassup" in her daily life!

My birthday was on January but the present she bought me (the pocket watch on the picture above) only arrived one month later, right after both of our routines changed and we stopped seeing each other frequently, even living on the same city, then things got chaotic and work started to require a lot more of me then I initially foresaw making me reschedule and postpone every time we agreed on meeting.

I invited her over to lunch since the weather was nice, which gave me the perfect excuse for me to cook since lately I haven't been having the time and cooking is absolutely soothing to me! It also gave her an excuse to eat something cooked by me which - and I quote - in her opinion is "the awesome cooking". I just think her opinion is not that reliable, you know? Eight years of friendship and I think she knows the right thing to say to me - oh, so romantic.

Over lunch we talked about some recurring problems of ours searching each other's aid or advice leading my friend to say a word I hadn't heard in ages: colhão.

Colhão simple translation would be testicles. However, it is an expression - ex.: "you gotta have colhão" - that means you that you have to have courage and stand up for yourself. Be brave. And I'm sure it is related to the old perception that only the man is courageous while the woman is delicate but I'm not going down this path... this time.

I let it pass by, we kept going with our conversation but something told me that wasn't something I should let go this easily. Although not very religious I do keep some costumes and beliefs with me that act like a compass to me most of the time. When me senses tell me to pay attention to something I obey - most of the times.

One day later I would be hearing the word again while talking about the same issue with other friends. Mina 0 | Mina's senses 1.

I didn't study much because I had her over for the afternoon and ended up not having anything else that is relevant to mention to do.

For more sunny, not warm not cold, breeze weathers like this last Sunday.

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learningsanctum · 1 year ago

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April 27th, 2024

Do you remember when OG "it girl" François de La Rochefoucauld went "perfect valor is to do, without a witness, all that we could do before the whole world" and it changed planet Earth's very core for generations to come? Me too.

Lately I have been trying to up my game on the company I work. Currently I have temporary contract but it does have a promise of promotion depending on my performance and, as most people would, I thrive on this promise. Which is why I'm so far away from my comfort zone - that would be law books, hiiiii law! - researching for books such as "How to Become a Successful and Valuable Executive for Companies" in the administration hub.

Although I think I look a little ridiculous reading those books - because they honestly look fake or one of those authors who just throws shitty advices on a book to earn an extra with the publication - I'm honestly giving those a chance. Maybe they can teach me something! I'm all for learning more so if it's learning something you shouldn't be doing! What if the book is just shitty in essence? Then I will have backhand experience to identify a shitty book when I first star reading it and see it's essence is similar to the last "bad" book I read.

I like to think that everything we do is constructive. "For better or for worse" is something I apply but with motivational undertones so i can channel it into something positive!

I'll soon complete three months working at this company and it's a "big girl job" per say. It's an international company that has a gamma of possibilities for growth and literally can take me to unexpected places if I manage a promotion, which, for someone like me who dreams of seeing the world would be a nice bonus not to mention a dream come true.

However, my dreams aren't merely limited to company growth but if I manage it will be something that will make me feel good and what are we on this Earth for if not to appreciate little pleasures in life?

Since I can remember I have this will to work on an office and be part of something bigger than me. This company aligning with my principles, such as it being environmental conscious and caring for it's workers - I work at HR so I have first hand experience - is the most awesome part of going to work everyday.

In my life plan - which I believe haven't changed much since I was a teen - all of it's goals are constructive, long term and take time to complement each other. When I say I intend to do five years of law only to enroll on temporary (eight years) navy service people tend to say I want very different extremes and I simply can't see it this way.

Corporative life is part of my life but I don't necessarily want it to be all my life! I believe new experiences and a change of scenario can always do good. Also that people make decisions based on the options they have at hand at the time they are picking. Sometimes what you want is not on the table thus why you have to come up with a plan to make it an option. That can take years. That's when we start outlining long and short term goals for ourselves.

I, for an example, had a dream of coming out of high school and doing medicine, with a specialization in psychiatrics later on in mind. The human mind always fascinated me! But as all of us know it isn't that easy to get into law and because of a ton of life-changing problems I had in high school I couldn't really focus on passing the exams to get into public universities. So I applied for law which was my second option and am rolling with it since then. It doesn't mean I gave up medicine. Of course it doesn't!

Carefully I analyzed my options and build a plan from there, always taking into consideration the areas which I have more affinity and seeing how and why they could complement each other. That's the conclusion of months of research and pondering: I would finish law so I could apply to the temporary navy service (TNS) as an Official rather than the lower rank, which will give me a bigger monetary return, allowing me to live with easy and simultaneously saving a good amount so when I finish the TNS I can enroll on an international medicine university and sustain myself while living there.

Of course those are the main goals connecting with each other and people often fail to see the process. What I mean is that in the five years it takes me to graduate I will be studying and training to pass on the military exam and while I'm at navy I will be studying Spanish so I can enroll on my dream med university.

Once, upon telling a colleague about my plans, she said, and I quote, "it is okay for you to want to be the Barbie: a thousand and one jobs" but she also added "you just gotta make sure to have your goals set on stone so when difficult comes you can keep yourself on your toes and focused on the goal" and that's the best advice I have gotten so far.

When people tell for you to work in silence they mean it most sincerely because most of those around you won't understand your plans and, even unknowingly, will demotivate you. Sometimes it seems crazy and most of times it really is but its not impossible and it's exclusively on you how far you will go to achieve your dreams by transforming them in plans and following through and through.

"Work in silence" isn't supposed to be bitter or trendy but is simply stating people don't have the same world view as you, so you won't make sense to them most of times and - good news - you don't need to! They aren't bad for not understanding though. They just have a different color pallet of lens to see the world and it's fine.

Don't give up on something because it doesn't makes sense. Make sense out of your nonsense if it's the true call of your heart.

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