I would like just to start out by saying that I have tarried too long in writing this, but it was not out of laziness or lack of inspiration. TASP was overwhelmingly brilliant, and by that I mean it outshone everything I had experienced before. I have held (and still do hold, as a writer) the fear that in talking about my experiences in TASP I would forget some crucial detail and thus not do justice to the program, my TASPers, or myself. But if summarizing TASP is to be one of the biggest challenges I must face in this post-TASP era, then so be it. Perhaps somehow, you, by reading this, will be able to understand as well as the other nineteen people I hold so dear to my heart. TASP is just too awesome of a thing to keep to oneself, and for me that sometimes means telling others what it was like, knowing that they'll probably barely understand. Yet, I still do it, I still keep telling these stories, because if they haven't been to TASP, the next best thing would be to pass on some of the wisdom I've gained from the program.
This non-narrative may lack some structure, or linear coherence, but that's only because each detail in TASP is so inextricably tied to the next that to fully comprehend the incredible nature of my TASP experience, one must consider so many elements together, simultaneously, and that is even hard to do for me. Furthermore, with the dearth of rules handed down to us by the factota, we were given an unprecedented amount of freedom to pursue our heart's desire--something most of us had never even dabbled in before. This is my best attempt at a frank discussion of the structured non-structure life we lived--and a nostalgic recollection of an era of good feelings.
The program started before I had even walked into the Alpha Delta Pi sorority house. With the arrival of the factota letter, I got a glimpse into the strange entity known to me as TASP. House meetings? PubSpeaks? Semi-monasticism? It still seemed a little absurd to me at the time: living with people in a house for six weeks, while engaging in the building of a "community" through "semi-monasticism" with the outside world. I confess: I giggled at the word "community." Needless to say, I really didn't know what to expect--only what to assume. As the introductory emails began to flood into my inbox, I received only a vague understanding of the nature of my housemates. I say this looking back now, because though the intro essays were lengthy and detailed, I could neither put a face to the words nor find a means of actually hearing the tone of voice in which they were written. This meant that I once again formulated pre-conceived ideas of the TASPers, which were thankfully wrong.
I arrived at TASP lost in mind and body. After getting two hours of sleep the night before (it was an international flight from China), my dad and I ended up driving two more hours than we wanted in the streets of Austin, while I was periodically calling Laura (my factotum) on my cell phone, desperately trying to locate the ADPi house and desperately trying to sound oh-so-calm. After asking three fraternity boys, who at that time to me appeared uncharacteristically polite and civilized, I finally located the house. Staggering out of the car, looking slightly miserable and completely exhausted, I was greeted by Laura, who said nothing of my harried looks and asked me instead if I wanted any help carrying my things upstairs.
As I walked through the doors, I could not help but gasp at the house. (Later I would learn from L that TA was throwing around the idea of switching to another house for the 2007 UT TASP program. I still can't believe this, and I intend to change it.) Anyways... fast-forward to class at the Harry Ransom Center. From far away, the building looked rather boring, and I was a bit apprehensive about going there five days a week, three hours a day, in a building that looked like it was meant to elicit yawns. The inside of the building redeemed the HRC. Our very own Professor Kurt Heinzelman created the museum exhibit, “The Technologies of Writing.” Never had I had all the time I wanted to explore a museum exhibit. Now I would get six weeks to do it. Writing this now, I must say I am happy with the way our class was structured both around the museum exhibit and the readings, because it gave me the chance to see these objects right before my eyes.
The Professors Kurt and Susan Heinzelmans were dedicated from the very beginning, and I must mention that their being married to each other provided us TASPers a rather interesting two sides of a spectrum in terms of the seminars during TASP. For one, Kurt and Susan never agreed too much with each other (it was a civilized battle of wills), and for the TASPers and myself this meant we were often able to hear both interpretations of the text at hand. The texts the professors had us read were intriguing--for one, all of us had no idea what the "Cultures of Writing" was, and therefore through the means of the books, poems, and articles we read the professors gently guided us down the path towards understanding. I used to rarely take notes for seminars during school, mainly because what my fellow students were saying was usually a bad paraphrase of Spark Notes. At TASP seminars, things were much more different--I averaged about four pages of meticulous notes. Seminars were a constant stream of revelations, and I felt if I didn't write them down the knowledge would be lost from me.
Furthermore, many of us had come from English classes where discussions often degenerated down into the "yes, I agree with ___________ too" episodes, which did not spark any differences in opinion and never challenged us in any way to defend what thoughts we threw into the air during class. However, because Sue disagreed with Kurt, Kurt disagreed with Sue, and the both of them played devil's advocate towards us, we also gained the confidence to criticize each other's statements and ideas--a constructive war of sorts where the end state was not obliteration of the Other but rather an enlightenment that came from the divine experience of the duality of the topic at hand.
For the longest time, I forced myself to restrain my disagreements with the interpretation on the table--that is, tone down my level of rhetoric to avoid appearing too shocking or radical in what I said, even if it was backed up with textual evidence. Here, at TASP, for the first time, I didn't have to cringe when I started a sentence with the phrase "I disagree." I could allow my thoughts to be verbalized, knowing confidently that my words wouldn't be greeted with indifference, but rather receive a response of actively engaged minds all thinking on different frequencies.
The intellectual conversations didn't stop at the Harry Ransom Center door. They spontaneously appeared during dinner, parties, and/or at intermittent periods and places during the day. The essays the professors assigned, for example, sparked a number of lively discussions where us TASPers drew upon both the text and our own experience to support our assertions. Our discussions ranged anywhere from the definition of "manliness" to postmodernist theory to graffiti. Besides learning how to carefully craft my arguments, I also began to acquire the skill of actually staying on the topic. For example, during our discussion of manliness, I started going off on another tangent, and Nick said to me, "Tracy, just stick with one thing. Stick with one thing and you'll actually get somewhere." His advice to me left an indelible impression--it helped me realize the truth behind my tendency to diverge, instead of fully exploring one idea and helping it develop into maturity.
What impressed me the most and inspired me to work hard on the essays was the fact that these essays weren't even for a grade, but all the TASPers still diligently wracked their brains to write the best possible of papers their knowledge could put forth. It was creation for the sake of creation--learning for the sake of learning. What was driving us? Surely not the bragging rights of a good numerical grade. It was only the desire to push ourselves farther and better, it was the motivation we gave each other to do well. All the essay topics were equally hard for the TASPers, but that didn't deter us. We sat instead in the tech room discussing the topics and our ideas before retreating back to our laptops to outline and to write. Writing the essays were arduous, but if I ever had a question about word choice, or just needed someone to proofread, I knew help was close by.
Had our factota not been present, I would have no doubt that our community would have bonded just the same. Nevertheless, having a person with more experience in life giving us advice was indeed one of the best parts of the program. Everyone adored Laura, especially because she didn't play any favorites--it was equal praise or chastisement for us. She was never too much of an authority figure unless need be; instead, she was one of us, and that made it much easier for us to relate to her and look to her as a mentor. Instead of babying us in the house, she was unafraid to be truthful and to disagree with whatever was said. This was in no way to bring us down, or to hurt our feelings--rather, it was a message she sent to us from the very beginning to never accept what is given but to instead create something new.
Laura was perpetually asking: "What do you think of that?" What she was doing was teaching us to learn how to think for ourselves, instead of absorbing passively all that was taught to us. The essential fact of life, Laura believed, was to question everything, to take comfort in the certainty of the uncertainty. Though nothing is etched in stone and the world is an unfamiliar and alienating place, one should seek out the infinite choices and possibilities that exist. I only had to believe in myself, ask me "what do I think of this" to create a tale unlike any that has been read or told before. My dream, rooted not in the convictions of someone else, but in the hopes and dreams of the individual.
She was encouraged us to "break some rules" after TASP, just like she broke the rules of what was considered "good" in society. At first I was greatly opposed to her swearing (I never cuss), but when she explained that she swore as a shock-and-awe tactic, my perception of the words "sh-t" and "f--k" entirely changed. Her use of language, like we learned at the seminars, was fulfilling the necessity of signification, of the fact that only through "difference" can we find meaning in life. Her philosophy was to be of an indie-natured person--the one who chose to break with a societal norm and innovate. I saw that she came through not merely unscathed but even more imbued with power--and that I could do the same. All I needed to do was step outside the comfort zone, and to be fearless. She put it best: "Remember that life, even at its worst, is beautiful and precious, and worth fighting for."
I had originally chosen the UT TASP as my third-choice TASP, because I thought that the seminar didn't have any practical, real-world applications. In my infinite wisdom, I was dead wrong. Laura was by far the biggest surprise in the whole mix--never had I met a person who taught us that theory was not enough--one must also genuinely Act on those ideas. Having experienced TASP herself, she gave us TASPers a hint of the greater obstacles in the post-TASP era--what to do with the incredible impulse to act, to do something to change the world. The most important thing to remember, Laura said, was to "Never give up. Don't get tired" of the futility of trying to change what I saw and disliked with my new post-TASP eyes. Though it may take a while, things will give way, and that we will all succeed. Giving up is the only defeat. If that lesson doesn't have some real-world strings attached to it, then I don't know what does.
In the end, it didn't really matter which seminar I went to, only who I went to the seminars with. All the UTASPers were amazing. We started developing our own lingo from the first day, and inside jokes were limitless. Sure, it was awkward at the beginning, but as soon as we found common ground conversation came easily.
Our numerous outings always involved most, if not all, of the community, meaning everyone made sure that no one was left out of anything. We were also watchdogs for each other’s welfare: telling the insomniac TASPers to go to sleep and waking up people so they wouldn't be late for class. We were the best at banding together, especially in moments that required an entire community to keep a secret while a coordinated underground effort was in the process. The clearest example of this was the one day 19 other people snuck out early, bought a gift and a cake, made and signed a card all in one day for my surprise birthday party.
It does seems strange for others that 18 total strangers could meet, eat, live, sleep, and deal with each other for six weeks, and yet, I myself am not surprised we pulled it off. The ultimate paradox of TASP is this: we were all so different and diverse in terms of our family, friends, interests, talents, goals, yet there was true kinship among us. Though it was never spoken, we all realized that there was something special in TASP, and sought to make each moment memorable.
I have not talked much about the concrete details of TASP, like what I thought of our beautiful house, the absolutely delectable food, or any specific aspects of each outing we've made (maybe these five words will suffice: I want to go back!). I guess those things don't matter as much as the people and memories I now hold in my heart. In the end, that's what I'll remember most anyways: a wonderful experience where the line between work and play blurred, an experience that went beyond my expectations, challenged my beliefs, and taught me to think about ideas that I would never have imagined. What I will remember is that TASP is not the end: it is only the beginning. The last day of TASP was not a "goodbye," but a "see you later."
It took us a while, but in the end we were all convinced that the pain of a farewell, after all, is temporary. These words from The West Wing often came to mind during TASP: "If we choose someone to inspire us, then we'll be able to face what comes our way, and achieve things we can't imagine yet." Indeed, days after TASP are a great mystery. I don't know what's going to happen... I have no idea what lies before us. But one thing is for sure: the TASPers will continue to do something, anything...simply because we are spurred on by inspiration, roused to action by the strengths of each other.
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