For the Love of Learning

Throughout my life, I have kept many of my passions a secret. I believed that their exposure would be detrimental to my social status. Now, being mature enough to understand that popularity is not nearly as important as I once thought, I have decided to periodically confess my guilty pleasures. This is one of those confessions:

One of my earliest memories of school is from third grade. Every day after lunch recess my classmates and I would enter the classroom and a math worksheet would await us on our desks. We were instructed to complete it, and upon completion were entitled to “free time”, during which we were free to play with any of the games in the classroom, read or socialize.

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This was my favourite part of the day. A boy in my class named Logan and I would race to see who could finish the worksheet first. I didn’t win every time, but between him and I one of us was always the first of the class to finish. It felt great to speed through it, mind working in top gear. On the days that I was first to finish, I felt like a champion as I walked up to Mrs. Gallant’s desk to hand her the sheet, all eyes on me.

I have always enjoyed my education as much as I did in the third grade, but as I grew older I was not as quick to show it. I would make excuses on school-nights to get out of hanging out with friends so that I could focus on my homework and complete it to perfection. Throughout elementary school I received straight A’s almost every year. My teachers would always show me praise, but encouraged me to apply my knowledge in class discussions. I feared that this involvement would put me into the category of a nerd or geek. This translated to high school where I continued to hide my love of learning.  My grades fell slightly due to lack of participation, but my pursuit of knowledge stayed strong.

Just as I have always looked forward to each school year, I look forward to working towards a university degree in the next few years. My mind is as spongy as ever, and I intend to soak up as much as I can.

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Max Carrington is a 21 year-old writing student. In his spare time he can be found in the gym, at the movies, playing sports, listening to music or nestled in a comfortable spot reading literature.

Some blogs Max follows: 

Dork Shelf l Modern Superior l The Movie Blog

A Misunderstood Film Enthusiast

Throughout my life, I have kept many of my passions a secret. I believed that their exposure would be detrimental to my social status. Now, being mature enough to understand that popularity is not nearly as important as I once thought, I have decided to periodically confess my guilty pleasures. This is one of those confessions:

The Thing (1982)

My earliest memory of film is seeing The Lion King with my grandmother, mother and sister. I was very young—three years old I believe—but I do remember the joy that I felt while in that theatre. The lights went down and though frightened at first, I succumbed to the comfort of this darkness and became entranced by the giant screen in front of me. I was thrown into the jungle with Simba and his family and became emotionally involved with the story—so much so that I screamed at the characters, trying to aid them in their ventures. The sounds of the film surrounded me and the darkness made everything vanish except me and the screen—the story—the art.

Since my first experience I have grown to love many films. Some of my favourites include GhostbustersHome AloneNight of the Creeps, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein and Citizen Kane. All of these titles have something in common—they are all older than I am. This is a trend when listing my favourites; I have grown to appreciate older films.

This is more than I can say for many of my friends. Their taste in movies is more geared toward action and comedy of the current era, which I too admire in some cases. However, they do not tend to be crazy about my favourites. Once I decided to dip my toe in the water and lend my copy of The Thing to a couple of buddies who were looking for something to watch. With the return of the movie came laughter and teasing. With this I became quite embarrassed and decided to keep my movie preferences to myself. And I did so for quite some time.

I have since begun to understand that movie preference is not something to be embarrassed about or something that defines a friendship. It is merely one thing within a sea of likeness that sets me apart from my closest friends, and I have accepted that, and they will too. 

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Max Carrington is a 21 year-old writing student. In his spare time he can be found in the gym, at the movies, playing sports, listening to music or nestled in a comfortable spot reading literature.

Some blogs Max follows: 

Dork Shelf l Modern Superior l The Movie Blog

Literary Loner

Throughout my life, I have kept many of my passions a secret. I believed that their exposure would be detrimental to my social status. Now, being mature enough to understand that popularity is not nearly as important as I once thought, I have decided to periodically confess my guilty pleasures. This is one of those confessions:

I became very fond of my studies at a young age and was very interested in reading. Throughout elementary school, we made weekly trips to the library where we were told to take out as many as three books. Most of the children in my class took out the minimum of one, and the book would stay in the back of their desk until the next trip to the library, where they would do the same. I however, took out two or three books each week and read them thoroughly. I had burned through many series by the time I became a teenager, including Magic Treehouse, The Hardy Boys, Goosebumps and Harry Potter. I had become a keen reader by the time I entered High School.

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Ninth grade is usually when you will make friends that will stick through the following three years. This was no different for me, as I fell in with a clique and made many friends. I shared many interests with these new friends including snowboarding and hockey. One thing that none of these new friends were interested in was reading.

Out of fear of rejection, I decided to keep my passion for reading a secret. I piped down in class when we were discussing some of my favourite books like The Catcher In The Rye and To Kill A Mockingbird, even though I had plenty to say on the subject matter. Looking back, I feel that this decision was detrimental to my high school experience. I realize now that even if I were patronized for my passion for reading and knowledge of literature I would have proven to be strong enough to ignore it.

I find it difficult to look back on my four years of high school with regrets, and while I sit reading some of my favourite authors like Mark Twain, J.D Salinger and Stephen King I can’t help but wish that I had been more involved in discussing their literary merit with my teachers and peers.

There’s a lesson here. Be yourself.

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Max Carrington is a 21 year-old writing student. In his spare time he can be found in the gym, at the movies, playing sports, listening to music or nestled in a comfortable spot reading literature.

Some blogs Max follows: 

Dork Shelf l Modern Superior l The Movie Blog

Soul-Piercing Sounds

Throughout my life, I have kept many of my passions a secret. I believed that their exposure would be detrimental to my social status. Now, being mature enough to understand that popularity is not nearly as important as I once thought, I have decided to periodically confess my guilty pleasures. This is one of those confessions:

Our taste in music runs through our veins. Many of my comrades get a kick out of Top 40’s and songs about drinking and carrying on, but music should be more than that. Music should travel into your ears, through your body and pierce your soul. There should be songs in your collection that evoke enough emotion to send shivers through your skin.

 Vincent Carrington 1957

Vincent Carrington 1957

I have not always thought this way. As a child I was into chart-toppers and songs about nothing, and I can still appreciate these in the right setting. It wasn’t until my grandfather passed away that I changed the way I listened to music. My family and I were cleaning out his house when I came across boxes and boxes of jazz records. In memory of my grandfather I decided to listen to a few songs. I never listened to jazz before, I mean really listened. The first song was one by Miles Davis and the sounds entered my ears and travelled right to my soul. Since then, I have filled my library with jazz. I believe that this love for jazz music was pre-determined. It was inside of me and needed to be discovered.

I now look for emotional connections to music and have found great comfort in many different sorts. Pearl Jam brings me to my childhood trips to the cottage, sitting shotgun with my father, enjoying the fresh air of the north. Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack bring me to my childhood home on Sunday nights when my mother would cook a fancy meal and insist on everyone’s attendance. And of course Miles Davis and many other jazz artists bring me to my grandfather. Music can change your life, and I urge others to search for these soul-piercing sounds that will bring you comfort in any setting.

Max Carrington

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Max Carrington is a 21 year-old writing student. In his spare time he can be found in the gym, at the movies, playing sports, listening to music or nestled in a comfortable spot reading literature.

Some blogs Max follows: 

Dork Shelf l Modern Superior l The Movie Blog

Don't Look In The Back Of My Closet!

Throughout my life, I have kept many of my passions a secret. I believed that their exposure would be detrimental to my social status. Now, being mature enough to understand that popularity is not nearly as important as I once thought, I have decided to periodically confess my guilty pleasures. This is one of those confessions:

Some of the fondest memories of my childhood involve visits from my Uncle Mike. About once a month he would drop in, and under his arm would be a bundle of comic books. As much as I loved catching up with Uncle Mike, I preferred to catch up with the heroics of my favourite vigilantes. After a pleasant greeting, he would hand me the books, and I would scurry off to my bedroom to indulge. These comics would accompany me to school where I would display them with pride, lending them out to classmates and discussing their contents in depth. This was my golden age of comic books.

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As I grew older, I found myself being more and more reluctant to share my love for comics with others out of fear of judgment; perhaps due to the negative label placed upon “nerds” and “geeks”. The visits from my uncle still came, and I still looked forward to diving into the adventures he brought along with him, but it wasn’t the same. So as I went through high school, and became infatuated with the opposite sex, the reluctance grew stronger. Before having friends over, I would make sure that any comics were tucked away neatly in the back of my closet and we would carry on with whatever trouble we were trying to get ourselves into.

Since entering post-secondary, social status has become much less important to me. I have decided to no longer stash my comics in the back of my closet, but display them with pride on my coffee table. Although my close friends may not be capable of discussing the recent changes Marvel Comics has made to its publishing format, or arguing over hypothetical fisticuffs between superheroes, I believe that they will accept that comics are something I enjoy. Whoa! Just the thought of this has my spider-senses tingling!

Max Carrington

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Max Carrington is a 21 year-old writing student. In his spare time he can be found in the gym, at the movies, playing sports, listening to music or nestled in a comfortable spot reading literature.

Some blogs Max follows: 

Dork Shelf l Modern Superior l The Movie Blog