On August National Days

August 2022

This month we asked our writers to pick and write
about one of August's national days

Strange Music Day

Joseph Carlson
MSMU Class of 2025

August 24th is International Strange Music Day. While this information is interesting, most of us probably don’t care if there is a particular day dedicated to listening to peculiar music. There is also an International Mahjong day, a lemon juice day, a traffic light day; a theme for every day of the year. While most of these are not particularly important, the idea that we ought to be perpetually broadening our interests is. The one who is interested is interesting.

Music occupies a place of particular importance in the lives of human beings. From our earliest development, even in the womb, the music we listen to shapes our brains. In recent years, neurology has made a number of startling discoveries into how the brain works. In our first moments of development, from when our brains form in the womb to about a year old, our neurons are essentially looking for a job. It is during this time that questions of priority will be answered for our brains.

Particularly in discerning speech, an infant is practically a blank slate. Babies are born with the ability to hear thousands of different phonemes, sounds that human beings can make, in order to prepare them for whatever language they will grow up speaking. After about a year, babies lose the ability to easily understand new sounds, and it will become significantly more difficult to learn new languages, simply because our brains do not understand what the sounds themselves are, let alone how to replicate them. Thankfully, our brains have something called neuroplasticity, a theory that our brain establishes certain patterns, neural pathways, which form how we think about everything and what we are inclined to do.

In this schema, though neural pathways often seem set in stone, they are moldable through the conscientious forming of new habits and ways of thinking. This is a difficult process, but it's how we learn new things, especially a new language. Music is its own language, a language we are born able to appreciate every phoneme of, every pattern, though certain musical patterns come more easily than others. Though oftentimes the musical experience is enjoyable because of a certain song or genre’s familiarity, it is a beneficial practice for our neurological health to build new neural pathways—in other words, to listen to strange music.

There are certain people with a special gift called perfect pitch. Perfect pitch is thrown around a lot with many different meanings, but what it really means is someone who, without much special training, can hear different notes the way we see colors. That is, each note is distinctly understood on its own; much like how we can see red and know it's red, someone with perfect pitch can hear a B flat and know that it's a B flat without any work. What is special about perfect pitch is that, while musicians can get something close to it with hard work and ear training, whether someone has perfect pitch will have been decided by the time he or she has hit one year old. What is most interesting about this is that, much like how we are born to hear the sounds in any language, we are born to hear and understand musical notes and patterns.

A number of studies have actually shown that children before the age of one can be given perfect pitch by being exposed to a lot of music and a lot of different music. Besides in children, listening to music in adults has been shown to reduce anxiety, blood pressure, pain, and improve sleep quality, mood, mental alertness, and memory. So much of the brain is involved when we listen to music: our auditory cortex, which processes what we are hearing, the amygdala, which processes emotions, our dopamine response, our memory, and even our visual perception. This last one is particularly interesting because science has shown that the music one listens to actually makes one see the world differently! Try watching a clip of a movie you really like without the music playing (it's very weird).

Different genres of music have different psychological and neurological effects and benefits. For example, listening to music with a similar emotion as one is experiencing in a particular moment can be very affirming; one can feel, though he is completely alone, part of something significantly bigger and more important. Music and speech are very similar psychological experiences, and since speech is inherently relational, so is music. At the same time, listening to the same kind of music over and over again can promote chronic experiences of the same emotion. It is extremely important to pay attention to how a song is making you feel because how you feel is going to affect how you act for the rest of the day and your life.

More technical genres of music like classical and jazz (classical in particular) have the best effects on the ‘intelligence’ of the listener (speech recognition, memory, mental attentiveness, etc.). This is because, in classical music, the musical ideas being presented to the listener are less obvious than in popular music, and often require more focus to understand. Though it is not some magic pill to make you smarter, it is good for you.

Finally, of course, there are the social benefits of listening to music. As much as we care not to admit it, most of our musical tastes are fairly arbitrary. This renders many generalized disagreements over music as silly as arguing over ice cream flavors. I always enjoy the analysis of music, and you do not need to like everything you listen to (in fact, please don’t). At the same time, open-mindedness is a virtue, and you will find that it is a virtue that can drastically increase one’s quality of life since, thanks to neuroplasticity, the music that others enjoy so much can be yours to enjoy too! So, if you get a chance today, utilize the best part of the internet, and listen to some strange music!

Read other articles by Joseph Carlson

National Sister’s Day

Claire Doll
MSMU Class of 2024

Some people say we look like twins, but she has brown eyes, with golden flecks like sunlight. Her hair is just a bit darker than mine, and she styles it so much better than I do, pinning it back in a claw clip, letting the waves spiral down her back. And her smile, a beautiful combination of dimples and laughter, holds much more confidence than mine ever will.

Yet, if she takes more than one sip of my Starbucks, I’ll seriously be mad.

She is my sister, my best friend, my inspiration all throughout life.

August 7th is National Sister’s Day, and this Sunday, I have much to be thankful for. My sister and I are 16 months apart, separated by two grades in school. We are so entirely different in our aspirations and lifestyles, yet bound by a wonderful childhood together and a love for coffee, driving around, and singing Taylor Swift. Honestly, if you’ve ever even met me, I’ve probably mentioned Margaret to you. She’s a nurse in the cardiac surgical ICU, fresh out of college and working in Baltimore City. As young adults, we are best friends, catching up on the weekends and scheduling "sister days" where it is just us, where we spend an afternoon shopping and getting lots of coffee.

But it hasn’t always been this way.

My sister and I used to fight—a lot. Being close in age and living right next door to each other, we would constantly get into arguments about stealing Barbies, stealing food, and stealing clothes. My sophomore year of high school, when she was a senior, Margaret drove me to school in her red Honda named Eleanor. Sitting in the exhausted silence of morning and watching the sun flicker its golden rays into the sky, we would bicker about stopping for Dunkin, what music to listen to, and how early we should arrive at school. Every morning was chaos. But truthfully, I always loved those mornings. I loved stepping out of her car and walking to school with her, exchanging banter and instigating comments. I loved telling her about my classes, the ones she had already taken, and gratefully accepting her advice. In short, I loved the time spent with her, the simple moments that, when added together, painted an image of our beautifully crazy relationship.

Things changed when Margaret went to college. I drove myself to school, came home alone, and lost that built-in best friend I was so used to having. However, this distance wound up bringing us closer together; Margaret would often visit on the weekends for a Tropical Smoothie run and a walk on our favorite trail with Toby, our little silky terrier. In my last two years of high school and into college, I experienced it all: drama, heartbreak, crushes, and a stomach-twisting fear of the future. Margaret was always there for me to listen, to wipe my tears, to take me on a long drive in Eleanor. In the middle of COVID-19, when we moved from our childhood home and into the countryside, I was angry, shocked at how everything had changed so quickly. But I still remember Margaret scooping me in her car and telling me about the Starbucks in our new neighborhood. "The drive there from our house is so beautiful," she had told me, and then paid for my iced coffee. In every memory, Margaret is the perfect older sister. Feeding me my bottle as a baby, doing my hair and makeup for prom, teaching me grace in an ever-changing world.

My whole life, she had been paving the path I so easily walked along, and I am forever grateful.

But that’s who sisters are, right? Sisters fight and sing along to Taylor Swift and buy coffee and fight some more. Sisters share clothes and argue about said shared clothes and wear them anyway. Sisters are there for all walks in your life, whether it is building an American Girl Doll mansion in your basement or talking about boys over a plate of sushi.

Truthfully, as the younger sibling, I always compared myself to Margaret. After all, who wouldn’t? She is beautiful, always has been, and is quite honestly the most confident individual I’ve ever met. She carries grace wherever she goes, and it is beyond inspirational. While I am stubborn and dramatic, Margaret is deeply rooted in kindness and patience. And while these differences often cause our arguments, I am eternally thankful to have had such an amazing role model to look up to.

While comparison inevitably leads to jealousy and bitterness in sister relationships, at the end of the day, sisters naturally are meant to lift each other up. This is especially important as we grow older, facing the tumultuous ebb and flow of life. I may still be in college, but Margaret is now a full-time nurse, working several night shifts and constantly serving as a support for her patients. When I graduate and find my own job, I will see my sister less and less. Our frequent "sister days" will come to an end, Margaret will eventually sell her car Eleanor, and we’ll both live in different places leading different lives. It’s a sad reality for many sisters, for many siblings in general, but something that reveals the strength and grace of our friendship.

At the end of the day, Margaret and I will always have our same-sounding laugh, an unstoppable love of coffee, and our tainted and chipped hearts from growing up. We will always have the memories, the American Girl Dolls to give our children. We will always have each other, our childhood, our learned lessons, our experiences and losses. This National Sister’s Day, I encourage you to thank a sister in your life. She could be your own sister, or a best friend, or a sister to someone, because it genuinely takes an immense amount of courage, grace, and love to be a sister, whether younger, older, or in the middle. I know Margaret has all these qualities and more, making her a beautiful woman inside and out.

But seriously, if she takes another sip of my Starbucks, I’ll deny everything (just kidding… of course).

Read other articles by Claire Doll

National Coloring Book Day

McKenna Snow
MSMU Class of 2023

Some people I know would probably laugh at the idea of coloring as an adult. "Isn’t that childish?", they ask, sure that it is something you must let go of to be a true adult. "Besides," they argue, "time you spend coloring as an adult is most certainly valuable time that could be put towards something more useful."

It is one thing to be childish, and another to be childlike. And sometimes, coloring is just what we need to remember the difference.

We get so very caught up in our industrial America with our work, our jobs, our to-do lists, that when our child, or in my case, my seven-year-old sister, asks me to color with her, the "natural" instinct is to respond with, "maybe later, right now I am quite busy." And perhaps most of the time, it is true. So many things demand our attention that to break to color a My Little Pony with a child seems like the biggest waste of time we could choose. They should learn how to color and be content on their own, right? They’ll be more self-sufficient that way.

August 2nd is National Coloring Book Day. It is a day that calls us back to consider what it means to be artistic, and why it is definitely not a waste of time to color with a child.

Children don’t see very far beyond the scope of their own home and their schools. To them, you, the parent, guardian, relative, babysitter, sibling, whomever—you are their whole world. They look up to you, see what kind of things you prioritize, and they want to imitate. Asking you to color with them is an invitation to share in the things that are priorities still in their young lives: exploring colors that go together and that clash. Seeing what happens when you stay inside the lines, or cross them. Bringing a picture they see in their head to life on a page. Expressing themselves on paper, and wanting to put it on the fridge for you to see. They are very intentional about what colors they choose for their pictures; they choose to color the truck blue instead of red, or to color the horse brown and white, instead of orange. Spending time coloring with them allows you to see their unique personality and preferences better, and helps build relationships.

Children take an interest in what colors you would choose for the horse or the fire truck. How you would draw the wheels, the barn, or the sun in the corner of the paper. They are even more excited, however, when you take an interest in how they did it, because these are the important things in their lives. When you say that you can color later—constantly—they begin, at an earlier age, realizing that work and iPhones are more important than things like coloring.

Do we want them to be exposed to such an industrial life so early? To let them see us suffocated by our jobs, our obligations, phone calls, news, and social media, and to set the example that this is what takes priority?

Coloring with a child, or even by yourself, is a rebellion against these lifestyles that allow no time for creativity, "wasting time," and relaxation. At the Mount, in the spring of 2021, I was put into quarantine when I had COVID. My older sister sent me a care package, and in it included a set of about 50 colored pencils, and an "adult coloring book," something that has become very popular in the past few years. The book was a happy collection of drawings of islands, countryside houses, bakeries, greenhouses, and coffee shops. Every picture had so much detail that to color one page would take a few days, but once it was fully colored, it was a kaleidoscope of beauty. There wasn’t much to do in quarantine, so I put that book to good use. I’ve taken the book with me to school for all the semesters since, along with all the colored pencils.

Do I use the book often? No, to be honest; I really do have very little time to do something like coloring. The reality is that busyness is extremely difficult to get away from. But that is all the more reason to try. At school, I try to leave the book and colored pencils around in a spot I can see them. It is a little reminder that I do need to have recreational and resting time that isn’t spent on my phone, or sleeping. Those modes of resting are fine, but as a human being, my eyes need breaks from screens, and it is a healthy thing for my brain to do something artistic every once and a while. There is something deeply restful about art, and it is a beautiful way to reclaim what the industrial world robs from us. It forces you to slow down, and to do something that takes time to accomplish, in a healthy way that a hundred instant movies on Disney+ can’t capture.

We shouldn’t act like art is only for poets, professionals, writers, and children. Art is a form of celebrating beauty, and is for all people, of all ages. God gave us colors, nature, and art, not as something to be secondary to work, but as something necessary to complement it. That is why beauty is both order and surprise, as Dr. John-Mark Miravalle of the Mount St. Mary’s Seminary puts it. If the world was all order, it would be mundane, unforgivingly cold, and about as full of life as four beige walls of an empty room. If the world was all surprise, it would be chaos; nothing would be predictable, consistent, or objectively true.

Beauty is the balance between these two extremes. It acknowledges the necessity of order, and celebrates the surprise and extraordinary of life. Coloring, therefore, is no childish thing; it is a reclaiming of beauty, and a rebellion against our demanding work lives. It reclaims the childlike wonder that allows for joy, curiosity, and artistry. Show children that spending time with them is important to you, and that coloring is a great way to waste time—since it really is not time wasted at all.

Read other articles by McKenna Snow

Go with the flow

Emmy Jansen
MSMU Class of 2022

My days of being ‘Mount student’ and ‘Emmitsburg News-Journal writer’ are passed. Now, I am a former student, a soon-to-be former writer, and a full-time employee at a small marketing agency within the very large water and wastewater treatment industries. I do various client projects, read a lot of surprisingly interesting articles on membrane filtration, and manage social media campaigns. This may seem like a sudden career shift for those that have known me as the studious, overly involved student leader and history fanatic who has never had an interest in things STEM-related. However, my dad has been a chemical engineer working in the water industry for my entire life. I grew up knowing which water brands were okay, which were overpriced, and the ins and outs of well water.

What I did not know was how much passion resides in the water industry. In my first month, I’ve learned about all the bad things related to water: water theft, pollution, droughts, water line breaks, and the dreaded PFAS contamination. Yet, I have also learned that in this bad, the good of humanity arises. Everyone is racing to find a solution for PFAS, not out of greed at being the first-past-the-post but out of genuine concern for the most impacted communities. Manufacturers preach about having cost-effective water treatment, not because they want to make the most profit, but because if they can cut down on the price, it can be cheaper to get water to more people. The water industry is keenly aware of those communities without access to clean water, not because they are a captive audience, but because they are human beings in need of something we can provide.

Is it any wonder that overseas non-profits, like Catholic Relief Services, put "access to clean water" as the top priority when entering any village or town? You cannot build a school to educate children or hospitals to provide health care until the community has their most basic need met.

All of these ideas and more, that our people and our water are things in need of protection, are encapsulated in World Water Week, which occurs August 23rd through September 1st. While it is mostly a conference in Sweden composed of leaders in the water industry, it speaks volume to the gravity of the issues these conference-goers will be discussing. The theme of this year’s conference is "Seeing the Unseen: The Value of Water." This broadly covers three categories: the value of water for people, for the economy, and for the environment.

Does this job still seem uncharacteristic for me? My passion for progressive social justice and Catholic Social Teaching are deeply engaged here. I get to tell the stories of those advocating for the vulnerable populations, here being the poor and the environment. Did I think I would end up here? No, I’m as shocked as you are. I expected to be in graduate school at the Mount before continuing into the field of higher education administration. I did not expect to be living in my hometown and commuting every day from my bed to my laptop with an occasional venture outside the house. But what working in the water industry has also taught me is to go with the flow. There are the things in your control and the things which are not. Discerning between the two is an essential characteristic of adulthood, and one which I am still learning to navigate.

I was the first daughter in my family to go to college, following after my two brothers who majored in software development and cyber security. Imagine my father’s exasperation when his daughter went to a private college out of state with no interest in anything STEM related. In his defense, he did everything he could to dissuade me from the liberal arts and hasn’t been the only one to try. Despite all his efforts to do something "with more promise of financial stability", I ignored his advice and continued with my passion for writing. Now, imagine his pride when his daughter joined him in the industry in which he has become an expert, giving him a vacuum in which to deposit all his knowledge which I am quickly soaking up. After decades of no one in the family truly understanding what he does, he now has someone who will watch documentaries about water leaks, someone who can keep him up to date on PFAS, and another remote coworker just down the hall. If "going with the flow" of changing life plans means making my father proud, I’d do it all over again.

As we learned in Flint, Michigan and as we’re learning with PFAS, water is essential. It is more than 60% of us and it is what allows the activities of our daily lives to happen. Do you know how much cooling water it takes to cool the data center where this article I wrote on my laptop is being stored? Do you know how much water is spent cooling factories, cleaning waste, and fermenting grapes into wine? With all this water around us, those with easy access to clean water still forget to drink it, as we are a chronically dehydrated society. While water is vital, water is also neglected, forgotten, and wasted.

When I think about how little water there is, whether with climate change or unequal access in the news headlines, I think about how much water there is. I think about the expanse of the ocean, how the waves creep up to shore, soaking everything with its love. I think about the water being pulled through the roots of the plants in the forest, on the mountainside, or in a pot in a college student’s dorm. I think about the 60% of each of our bodies that is simply water, how it allows for our very existence. I heard a quote about water that still resonates with me to this day: "The cure for anything is salt water—sweat, tears, or the ocean." Water holds immense power, whether physically, mentally, or spiritually. We would be wise to harness this, and to advance its availability to others.

Read other articles by Emmy Jansen

Read Past Editions of Four Years at the Mount