| What is your most memorable childhood experience? | To properly understand the ideological standpoint that this story will be written from, it is first necessary to establish the main passion upon which this childhood memory rests. For as long as I can remember, my mother has lived a life of a settled, middle-class vagabond, as paradoxical as that may sound. What I mean by that statement is that although she had a regular job as a nurse at the local hospital, she still found a way to carve international, and also for that matter, domestic travel into her already busy life. She had this unquenchable appetency to not only discover new cultures, but to implement pieces of foreign lifestyles into our small town family. One of the most significant, or overarching values instilled into my childhood was the respect and appreciation of nature. An argument could be made that this value already exists in American culture, but I would say that it merely exists in the mildest of levels, and often in a largely superficial way. Often times, camping simply means driving to a campsite in a $200,000 RV, all while enjoying more amenities than a four-star hotel. The very fact that the term in today’s society is “escaping to nature” signals that the pure essence of natural appreciation has been lost through the manifestation of inner-city/suburban home development. So, to digress, what was taught in my childhood was to appreciate nature in its truest sense and more importantly, to understand that the tranquility offered by a remote landscape is unwavering, regardless of the current state of modern society. It should be noted, however, that this introduction to my story has not been intended as an attack upon the commercialization of outdoor recreation (after all, I am an Economics major). It has instead been a preface to a particular childhood memory and moreover, an opportunity for the reader to glean more information into one of my most pronounced passions. Some time ago, a friend and I loaded up my car with two weeks' of supplies and entered the interstate with nothing but a westward direction and a strong yearning for exploration. The trunk consisted of sleeping bags, a tent, some cooking supplies, and self-chopped firewood, while the back seat was littered with clothing, as well as a cooler chock-full of food. For the first time in our lives, we were free. Free from parental supervision. Free from educational obligations. Free from job obligations. Free from any other societal obligations. The only connections to the lives we departed were the two bank accounts fueling our journey. Our trip consisted of driving by morning/early afternoon, exploring new environments by late afternoon, and camping by nightfall. From the desolate landscape of south-eastern Wyoming, to the refreshing rivers of northern Nevada, to the figurative roof of Zion National Park, we experienced everything the West has to offer. Contrary to what any logical mind would deduce up to this point, the question of my favorite childhood memory has yet to be answered. Although the cross-country journey could be labeled as the aforementioned memory, I am instead going to choose a certain part of the trip, a part that rocked the very basic core of my adventurous spirit. On the second to last day of the trip, we stopped in the Black Hills to attend my friend’s grandma’s wedding. The site of the ceremony was at a family friend’s house, buried deep in the Black Hills National Forest. The house was so far entrenched in the forest, so far apart from civilization, that anyone wishing to attend the wedding had to meet in Hill City, SD to form a caravan. When we arrived at the house, after nearly forty-five minutes of driving into the wilderness, I suddenly realized that the nearest house must have been fifteen miles back on the gravel road we had just come from. There, perched on a bluff overlooking a picturesque mountain stream, was an enormous log home. One look through the pine tree-choked forest revealed desolation in the purest sense of the word. After the wedding, I had the pleasure of meeting the owner of the house. As it turned out, it had taken him several years to build the house, but he had done it entirely by himself. Bear in mind, this is not a small shack in the middle of the woods. It is a log home that I would estimate to be 4,000 square feet, considerably larger than most people’s homes. None of that surprised me nearly as much as the fact that he and his wife lived out there alone, away from all of the traditional utilities provided in a typical home. For someone to be so content with the absence of materialistic things was beyond enlightening to me. I believe it was this trip that led to not only the realization of my stark appreciation for nature, but more importantly the discovery of my most profound passion. |
| What immediate family member do you closely identify with and why? | The family member that I identify with, or resemble, the most is unquestionably my mother. That is not to say that I don't resemble my father as well, specifically because that goes against accepted hereditary laws; I am simply saying that the me-described-in-one-sentence sentence would be most analogous to my mother's sentence. |
| What character traits do you admire in an individual? | Presumably above all else, I admire someone with a stark sense of humility, no matter what situation they are presented with. A second characteristic that I admire is the ability to resist temptations not only induced by peers, but popular culture as well. I so often see people so easily swayed by either materialistic or superficial means, only because they want to "fit in." Lastly, I admire ambition, namely because it inspires ambition into my life. |
| What is the funniest thing ever to happen to you? | After much thought, this is an unanswerable question. It is rather difficult to take one event from a lifetime and place it at the top of an artificial ranking system. |
| If time and money were not an issue, where would you travel and why? | Picking anything short of the entire world as my answer to this question would not only be severely misguided, but also raise questions about my ability to arrive at a logical answer. I believe humans (and I suppose animals for that matter) possess innate curiosity. If the previous statement was found not to be true, I do not think life would have ever survived, citing lack of food collection and shelter construction as the main premises to my conclusion. Moreover, I feel that removing time and money from the question in effect strips travel from its traditional meaning, or at least in my case. To travel, at least in today’s society, implies to also return at some future point. If I were to accurately answer this question, however, I wouldnot travel, but merely move around the world in a nomadic fashion. So, in essence, my answer (which I assure you is coming) would be to the question of where I would nomadically move to if time or money were not issues. So, to answer the question, I would move around the entire world, one residence at a time. |
| When and if you ever have children, what would you like to pass on to them? | I would like to pass on a sense of morality, namely because the deterioration of strict ethical standards appears to coincide with the expansion and modernization of society. I am not trying to come off as a "liberalized" college student, I just strongly appreciate the small-town values that I received from my parents. I believe a stout moral compass, which in turn brings about integrity, forgiveness, and earnestness, will always prevail during times of uncertainty. Also, I would hope that my children possess unwavering kindness. |
