Author: James Cortes

The weirdest part about being halfway through my first semester of college is that I am still seventeen years old. “You are all adults now,” they exclaim. “I am not an adult,” I insolently replied (in my mind). I’ll have to discover a new rebuttal, as my childhood will be over in nine days from when I am writing this. I’m a seventeen-year-old, but I was a different seventeen-year-old when I arrived at Geneseo on August 22, 2023. I no longer sleep in an opulent queen-sized bed, now my feet dangle off my minuscule twin XL. I used to lavishly lounge in my bathtub with a cup of tea and a portable speaker sounding Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No.2; I imagined I was an early 20th-century Russian tsar soothing away the arctic chill. Now, I wear flip-flops when I cleanse in a shower with only two settings: scalding hot and unsatisfactory lukewarm. They’ll even spontaneously switch between them just to shake things up a bit! That’s not going to hack it to soothe Geneseo’s arctic chill, and nobody is living like royalty up here.

Whether productive or not, the most prominent sensations have originated through the desire to be comfortable again. What even is “comfortable?” Is waiting until the last day to get that problem set done comfortable? Is avoiding FOMO by going out two nights in a row comfortable? Is skipping breakfast to secure an extra thirty minutes of beauty sleep comfortable? All these scenarios are comfortable… until they aren’t. One either is forced to cram their schoolwork in, sleep in, and skip lectures because they feel a little too good in their bed, or they finish it before their party and have a stress-free evening. More times than not, I’ve been person number one, but one thing about Scorpios is that no matter how tough the going gets, we’ll work tirelessly to handle our business in the least efficient ways manageable. I was never a straight-A student, but unless Brightspace is lying to me, I can call myself one for the first time. The college system is truly working better for me, for now. My teachers rambled on about how, eventually, my bad habits will “catch up to me.” Clearly, I just run fast, so I guess that doctrine never applied to me. At the end of the day, if you want to be a straight-A student, don’t do what I do.

My INTD105 section is going abnormally well. I say “abnormally” because I’ve never enjoyed English, but I have enjoyed theatre. It’s infinitely easier to connect to works discussing the effects of theatre on the individual for me, a stage performer with nine years of work in the field. I’ve enjoyed The Theatre of War by Bryan Doerries, which delineates his work with his theatre company, Theater of War, in presenting readings of classical Greek tragedy to a range of military organizations followed by town-hall style discussions which according to Doerries’ website, “confront social issues by drawing out raw and personal reactions to themes highlights in the plays… “ (“Theater of War – About”). The most important part of my creative process as a performer is always connecting the work to my life. As Richard Taruskin- an American musicologist and prominent music historian (yes, this is just an excuse to plug my Music History class), puts it in his essay, “The Authenticity Movement Can Become a Positivistic Purgatory, Literalistic and Dehumanizing,” regarding the authenticity of modern performances of historical musical works, authenticity is not saying what you mean but “knowing what you mean and acting in accordance with one’s knowledge…” (Taruskin). After reading Doerries’ work, Greek tragedy became so much more than an out-of-touch, mundane snoozefest. It now demands my attention to not just know what happened, but to discuss why it happened and what it means to me. The sophomoric question, “Why should I care?” is now asked sincerely.

For the end of the semester, I hope for things that everybody else hopes. I hope to learn to manage my work comfortably, so I don’t end up having a grade-sinking revelation this semester. I hope to learn to consistently perform the habits I’m struggling with whilst awarding myself grace for inevitable setbacks. Above all, I hope to continue to bond with the lovely folks I’ve met through classes and clubs- especially my a cappella group, “The Southside Boys.” I mean it when I say these guys are my family. If you are reading this and have thought about singing, audition for an a cappella group (maybe even SSB!). It has been the most worthwhile and meaningful experience during my time here. Whatever you like to do, I hope you are finding your corner of the sky. In the first half of the semester, I found the perfect plot of land. All that’s left to do is slowly start to build.

This summer, my therapist asked me what was supposed to be a trivial question: “Who are you?” “I don’t know if many people can answer that question…” I replied. “I think a lot of people can answer that question, James.” I’ve tiptoed around that question for a while, but I’ll give it my best shot. I am James Cortes. I’m typically easy to locate not just because of my height, but because I like to be “present.” I’m present in the music department, my new a cappella group, esports club, and sitting in the front row of class. I plan to use the opportunity that I have been given to be a college student to its fullest extent. In the words of American essayist and naturalist Henry David Thoreau, I want to “suck the marrow out of life” (Thoreau). I often refer to myself as being “radically me.” This definition of myself has changed over the years for different reasons, but primarily because of my queer identity. I came out as bisexual in seventh grade to my entire school on my public Snapchat story. I like to say I don’t have regrets, but that was a choice. I then became the only “out” nonbinary person at my high school; I dealt with what is “unfortunately” typical for LGBTQ+ youth in the world, which was online harassment, social exclusion, and even direct taunting. I didn’t know how to deal with that; I don’t know how any fourteen-year-old should deal with that.

I fell into a depressive state during quarantine, and I’d spend days at a time only leaving my bed to shower and get food. I completely blew off school and was amazed at how I didn’t fail my tenth-grade year (well… I did fail, but I got a COVID pity pass). My junior and senior years were wonderful: not only did I become a social butterfly, but I found solstice in my friend group. When I had to leave them for college, I was disheartened, but optimistic that college would be the “new opportunity” I always wanted. I now have a second chance, both socially and academically, in a diverse and enriched environment.

I would have considered myself independent, so I didn’t feel that much of a difference being here at Geneseo compared to home. Coming here at first felt like listening to a song, but your AirPods die right before the chorus. The culmination of years of hard work resulting in an overwhelming feeling of apathy. Jumping to now, my recreation is the same, school is still stressing me out and I’m still eating alone most days; what’s the difference? I don’t want to sit here sounding like an interloper because that is far from the truth. I’ve wanted to attend college for almost my entire life, and Geneseo was my top choice. I like to think I’m intentional, so I understand WHY I am here. I anticipate leaving Geneseo with bachelor’s degrees in Physics and Vocal Performance. I picked the two things I am best at, and I’ll hopefully have a job in one of them. I don’t want to delve too much into semantics, but while I believe the encompassing college experience is more than just working hard to find a well-paying job, that is my primary objective. I’d hope it is for everybody. I’m sure I’ll learn valuable life lessons about caring for yourself, getting enough sleep, and developing good study habits. I am enrolled in nine classes with ten associated lectures; I’m not worried I won’t learn effective study habits. However, with all the readings, physics, and rehearsing I’ve subjected myself to, I’ll need to learn quick as I already feel the strain from it all.

One path I diverged onto was selecting Theatre Therapy for Veterans as my INTD 105 section. As somebody who loved performing and consuming theatre and has a long lineage of war veterans in my family, I knew this was where I needed to be. Of course, I will develop and improve my writing skills, but more importantly, I’m expanding my horizons on topics I am passionate about. I could’ve picked any other INTD section, but I picked this one. So far, we’ve read They Say/I Say: The Moves That Matter In Academic Writing by Cathy Birkenstein and Gerald Graff. An interesting idea I’ve found solstice in is the claim that an idea only has value if it is connected to something and has a definite intention or goal (Graff). I’ve made it a goal to walk through the world with an intention that aligns with my values and is shown through my actions. This goal can be shown through everything I do, especially in my choice of words.

My intention for this semester is to exercise the principle of heightened intention in a novel environment and atone for my past academic failures by being nothing short of an “academic weapon.” That doesn’t mean I won’t have fun while doing it, but I am determined to be the best student I can be in and out of the classroom. I’ve found incredible folks on campus who have welcomed me into their lives, and I expect these people- especially the folks in the music and musical theatre department, to continue to grow on me. Most importantly, I expect to find out more about myself. I understand it’s cliche to say that we are entering a new chapter of our lives, but I literally break up my year into chapters. I think I’ve earned the right to say I am entering a new chapter. Like all, this chapter will bring new challenges, but no challenge is more significant than walking up that stupid hill daily.