Author: David Sweeney

INTD 105: Risks, Rewards, Rent Paying was not what I expected. Before entering the class, I’d signed up for two other INTD 105 sections that I thought I’d enjoy, both of which became unavailable in some way or another, therefore I got stuck with Risks, Rewards, Rent Paying. Not to say that I was necessarily unhappy with the position I found myself in, it just wouldn’t have been my first choice. At that point in registration, there were only a few spots open and Risk, Rewards, Rent Paying seemed like an interesting opportunity to learn about rent and money paying, something I’d been unable to learn about in high school. It might also be helpful to note that I’m not sure I had the best understanding of what INTD 105 even was as a course. The sections listed on registration had titles ranging from “Tolkein” to “Thinking about Death”. I wasn’t sure there was even really something that connected all of these courses other than they were all shoved under the INTD 105 umbrella. Either way, what was waiting for me on the other side was something I couldn’t have expected beforehand, though not any less valuable than I was anticipating.

Risks, Rewards, and Rent Paying focuses (quite fittingly) on the idea of risks and rewards in almost anything you can imagine. One of the first activities I remember doing as a class was a group activity where we all brainstormed the risks and rewards of social media and how it has affected society as a whole either negatively or positively? While not necessarily related to any of the writing we’d be doing overall, these brainstorming activities (of which there were quite a few) would be incredibly helpful down the line as they aided us in our thinking skills. Brainstorming two sides of the story, the risks and the rewards, the “they say” and the “I say” was one of the most important aspects of the class as we began reading the short story by Octavia Butler, Bloodchild. I’ll be honest in saying that the story caught me off guard when we read it through the first time. We had done some short readings on some of her more biographical/realistic work in which she talked about her experiences as a sci-fi writer. Even with this information, I still wasn’t expecting something like Bloodchild to show up in a class titled Risks, Rewards, and Rent Paying. My brain was still half-operating under the assumption that this was some sort of economics class, that later in the semester we’d learn all about how to navigate rent paying in today’s society. Bloodchild squashed that idea for me, revealing a bit about what this class actually was which somehow confused me even more. What did the alien Tlic and human-like Terrnans have to do with Risks and Rewards? The in class readings helped a bit with my understanding as the professor was careful to point out moments that were note-worthy or otherwise thought provoking and students had the opportunity to air out their questions or thoughts about the piece as we read on. Shortly after these in class readings, I began struggling through the second essay prompt of the semester, asking us to relate our experiences in college to the events contained within Bloodchild. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to connect the two as they seemed so hopelessly separate from each other. I got to thinking though and managed to form a fairly personal response that helped me move forward in the course a little more comfortably.

After completing this first essay I found the bits and pieces of the course starting to form a more complete picture in my head. Looking back on it now, the course epigraph is a perfect encapsulation of everything this class represents. Originating from the main character, Gan, in Bloodchild, the epigraph states “If we’re not your animals, if these are adult things, accept the risk. There is risk, Gatoi, in dealing with a partner.” I came to realize that much of the course focused on partnerships and the risks (and rewards of course) that were contained within them. Whether it be a student’s partnership with a college and their professors, a Terrans relationship with Tlic, or a tenant’s relationship with a landlord (a connection with rent paying I was finally able to make). The early reading’s of Graff and Birkenstein’s They Say / I say began to make more sense to me as well in the context of partnerships and dealing with that “they say.”

None of this is what I expected. Risks and rewards are nothing I ever explicitly thought about in an everyday context. I’m sure subconsciously I was aware that every decision/situation had its own set of payoffs and consequences but this class had me think about it outwardly in a way I never would have thought to do otherwise. It’s a class about preparing for your own future, about using the resources available to you and carving your own path forward, always thinking about the risks and rewards you may encounter. Maybe it’s a simple concept but it’s a necessary and useful one I think for students who are new to college, even ones who may think they know what they’re doing like me. Since my first day arriving on campus I knew that I wanted my career path to be writing related, with the end goal most likely being an author writing novels in a cozy house somewhere in the middle of nowhere. And while I’d obviously thought of the risks that came along with such a career path, it wasn’t until this class when we were visited by Heather Morens from Geneseo’s Career Design Center that I was given a visual representation of one of these risks. We were shown a website called Focus2 which allowed students to explore different careers side-by-side, including a comparison of average annual income. I don’t remember the exact number, but next to some of the other science related jobs, the income from being a writer looked small. Of course I knew this wasn’t ever something I’d be doing to get rich and the visual representation of this “risk” hasn’t persuaded me from pursuing my career, but it has made me think more consciously about the risks and rewards afforded to me in my life in just about any scenario.

I think my biggest regret in relation to this class is that I wasn’t able to take it any sooner. I believe INTD:105 is a course intended for first years yet I was never really made aware of this fact so I registered as soon as I could in my sophomore year. It probably hasn’t made much of a difference but I do wonder how differently I would have navigated this first semester of my second year if I had been able to take this class as a freshman. I think everything I learned in this course is invaluable, more than I could have anticipated coming into it. Not only do I feel my essay writing has improved tenfold (helpful for a future career in writing), I also think I’m more prepared to move through college and adult life with the thought of risks and rewards floating around in the back of my head. The lesson of this class isn’t to never take any risks or avoid them at all costs, but more so that weighing the pros and the cons is important and can make or break the outcome of a lot of things. Something else I learned too is that expectations can be deceiving. The reward I got from this class was much more than anything I could have gotten from what I thought the course would be and that’s ok. Let yourself be surprised and never stop thinking about the next step forward.

Octavia Butler’s Bloodchild crafts a terrifying world for the main character Gan and his family. On their planet, humans (or Terrans as they’re known here) are forced to mingle with the alien Tlic who operate on dozens of limbs and implant the Terrans with their small grub-like young. Gan’s family is lucky enough to have been placed in the Preserve, a place of safety away from the lands outside where Terrans are “courted, paid, drafted, in some way made available” (Butler 5) to the impatient Tlic that await there. Gan and his family are “protected” by an old family friend, a Tlic named T’Gatoi who has chosen Gan to bear her young whenever he is old enough. Gan and his siblings are shown plenty of “diagrams and drawings” (Butler 13) to ensure them that the process is safe. Yet despite this constant reassurance and the perceived safety of the Preserve, it is Gan’s brother Qui who comes to see the Preserve as a cage, as one big trap. While walking home one night as a kid, Qui witnessed a Terran killed by a Tlic, his throat being sliced open with “one swipe of one claw” (Butler 20) while the grubs burrowed their way through his dead corpse to be born. From that day forth, Qui could no longer veil the Preserve in a false sense of security. He wanted away from this hostile place that had taken lives, maybe even his brother’s or his own eventually. Though the story of Bloodchild comes to a happy ending (or at least as much of one that’s possible) for Gan, it’s important to realize that Qui never does get his ‘away.’ Part of being human sometimes is being stuck somewhere unbearably uncomfortable, maybe forever. While Gan’s ending is a satisfactory one, I think the point Butler makes with Qui is more interesting. His story is left unfinished. He is still searching for something he may never find: a way out. It’s an interesting parallel to a struggle that’s much too common. When faced with problems in life, a lot of humans’ natural reaction is to run instead of facing that problem. For Qui, Butler never makes the point that he’s wrong for feeling this way. He is simply left to his feelings, and I believe that to be the point. Sometimes life is scary. Even SUNY Geneseo with its pretty hills and valleys can be scary. The Preserve is to Qui what Geneseo was/is to me. A supposed safe space for him that only ever felt hostile, a place he wanted to be rid of.

My first impressions of SUNY Geneseo weren’t all negative. It is beautiful here after all and for my first couple weeks here I was excited to start college. It was only until I was hit with the slew of “‘adult things’” (Butler 25) as T’Gatoi says, that I started to feel alone in this place. Living on campus was the first time I’d ever lived alone away from home for an extended period. I started to realize how far away I was from my friends and the people that help me stay anchored in my everyday life. Just like Qui when he witnessed the unfortunate Terran death, I began to peel away the false sense of security that my “safe haven” provided. I did good in class and did my best to find a job but no matter where I went, I never really felt like I was getting anywhere. I was still alone and despite my best efforts, I was never able to find my people here. SUNY Geneseo introduced me to the idea of being completely alone, something I’d never been able to understand before. I wanted to run away wherever I could, but I quickly found out that I was “‘running in a cage,’” (Butler 20) like Qui.

For Qui, the Preserve is inescapable. There’s a moment in the story where Gan ponders over the family rifle and says “‘That’s Qui’s ‘away.’’” (Butler 29) The moment isn’t lingered on for too long but can’t be understated. Qui’s only “away”, if he really wants it, may be to escape from life itself. It’s extreme and hard to think about but for Qui it may be the only way out. For me, I can count my lucky stars that my “Preserve” has built-in breaks where I can find a sort of temporary “away.” Whether it be a few days here and there or months between semesters, I’ll always have some sort of escape from the “‘adult things’” (Butler 25) where I can feel a little less alone for a while. It’s in these breaks that I can leave behind the looming thoughts of college and spend time with the things and people that matter to me.

Sometimes it can be helpful to know that our stories aren’t over yet, mine or Qui’s. With Gan being chosen at the end of the story, Qui’s worries may be able to fade a little as he focuses on his brother and his family. He has time to grow out of his fear of the Preserve (and truly life in general) and find his “away” somewhere closer to home. Maybe he’ll find that he doesn’t even need it anymore. That’s what I’m hoping for myself. With two more years here at SUNY Geneseo, it’s helpful to know that I still have time to settle into this place, no matter how rocky of a start I had. I’ve already taken a few steps to try and feel more comfortable here. I’ve joined a sports team, made a few friends, and overall tried to get a better understanding of why I’m here. Right now, everything still feels hostile but there’s comfort in knowing that next year, maybe even next semester, I’ll feel a little less like running away.

While I sit and wait for that feeling though, it’s important to realize that it’s ok to feel how I do. When Butler introduces Qui and his motivations, she never really makes a comment on whether he’s right to want to run away from it all. When Tlic run the world though, what Terran wouldn’t want to run away? To me, Qui seems to be one of the sanest characters in the short story. When someone sees something as terrible as Qui has, it makes sense to want to make an escape from it all. Being thrown into adult life is impossibly scary. No matter how much you try to prepare yourself, you’ll never know what it’s really like until you’re there. For a lot of people, college is that first leap into a whole new world. And for people like me and Qui, that world is scary, lonely, and unfamiliar. Maybe sometimes it stays that way forever and maybe it doesn’t. Some people may even choose to fully run away from college and find another transition point into adulthood. I don’t think there’s a wrong answer here. Making that move into adult life, whether that be college or not, is something that everybody has the choice to navigate on their own, especially today when college is becoming so much less necessary to secure a stable career. There are so many options out there which can be a scary thought on it’s own but a comforting one too when you realize that you can do whatever is right for you. From me and Qui, to anybody out there who’s scared: you’re not alone. Just keep running, wherever it is that you need to go. Keep going.