Can a first-semester sophomore (at asu or considering transfer to asu) apply to barrett? Essay, what are the barrett application essay topics for spring 2019 and fall 2019? Do the faculty of Barrett have recommendations for addressing the essay? Housing, what is the housing expectation for Lower division students (first-time freshmen)? What is the housing expectation for Upper division students (continuing asu or transfer students entering their junior year)? Letters of Recommendation, what is the barrett policy for letters of recommendation?
Confidential: True, confessions of a fat Admirer
I use every tool ive got to manage my anxiety, my butterfly beating heart and shallow breath and tight presenter shoulders. Despite that, i dont sleep soundly for days. There are more like it, including A love letter from your fat friend and The divine liberation of calling myself fat. You can also find your Fat Friend on Facebook and Twitter. Application Basics, what items are required for a barrett application to be complete? What does Barrett look for in an application? May a prospective student submit a creative supplement as part of his or her Barrett application? May an applicant appeal his or her decision? What steps follow admission to barrett? Eligibility, who may apply to barrett and when? Can a second-semester freshman (at asu or considering transfer to asu) apply to barrett?
Rather than being a compatriot, stuck in the same frustrating, uncomfortable situation, i become a scapegoat for all that frustration. I become the other. In that way, air travel is sadly familiar, a microcosm of what happens so often as a fat person. I am watched — and judged harshly — as I try — and fail — to fit into a space that was made for someone else. I am always too big, always too much, always unacceptable. I must make myself smaller and smaller, reducing and reducing endlessly, my business stubborn body resisting at every turn. Still, i am never quite small enough to make anyone else comfortable. Before the flight lands, i begin thinking of the return flight. I try to be present with friends family, try to prep for my work meeting.
I understand why all of my fellow passengers are on edge. Because everyone is uncomfortable in airplanes. Theyre designed to fit as many people as possible — which doesnt lead to comfortable seats for anyone. Flying is costly, uncomfortable, stressful. Bags get heavy; flights get cancelled; write relationships get strained. No one, it seems, is having a good time. And at the peak of all that stress — boarding the plane — the person my fellow passengers see.
I have carefully observed what makes other passengers snap at fat passengers, roll their eyes, complain to staff. For me, these are inviolable norms. Someone pulls out their phone as they pass. I remember the countless, surreptitiously filmed videos of fat passengers on planes with titles like gross Obese. Fat, people on planes overweight and fat man slobbering on airplane, sleeping, snoring, drooling and ban disgusting fatasses. I make myself smaller still, doing my best impression of a calm person. Theres nothing to see here. When the flight takes off, i realize that ive done something terrifying, impossible and ordinary— i have boarded a plane. This time, i wont have to pay for a second seat, blink back tears in my seat, be escorted from the plane.
How to reduce face
The nervous fumbling at security. The uncomfortable lean against the wall at the gate. Scanning other passengers faces. Who else is fat? Is their face knit into knots of worry and bars hurt? I run to the bathroom, lock myself in a stall, and will myself not to vomit.
I line up first, not because i am impatient, but because ive selected a window seat, and I want to be settled before anyone else in my row. If I have to step past them, i will hear the familiar, belabored, disdainful sigh. The throat cleared, the muffled groan. These are the sounds of my body being seen in public. I get on the plane, get into my seat, fix my eyes on the baggage handlers below, and avoid interacting with anyone unless they address me first. I grasp my arm and cross my ankles, making my fat body as small as possible.
Our happy hour ends quickly, and we silently walk home. I dont sleep that night. At 1:30 am, i think about everything ive been doing to get healthy. Last month, the doctor said my blood pressure was good, and that I had a healthier exercise regimen than most of the patients she sees. She couldnt figure out why i was still fat.
For nearly a week afterward, i felt inexplicably sad. At 3 am, i fantasize about what could happen to spare me from the humiliation that feels destined to happen. Maybe if I wear two layers of spanx, which itch and hurt. Maybe if theres a surprise snowstorm. Maybe if I start throwing. Then, in the morning, the airport.
Barrett, The honors College
I bring mints, so i wont need anything to drink, so that the remote flight attendant wont have to reach across the row for the fat person. I research whether the airports Ill pass through have a history of confiscating seat belt extenders. If I bring my own, Ill be margaret spared the white hot spotlight of asking the flight attendant for one. In the days before the flight, friends tell me i seem distant. A few of my closest friends know that this means i am getting on an airplane. They get quiet, uncertain of what to say. The night before the flight, my best friend and I get drinks at a neighborhood bar. Normally, we speak boisterously, laughing uproariously and making friends with other patrons at the bar. Tonight, we dont say much.
I was so big, and so invisible. This could happen again. I blink back tears. The anxiety doesnt subside once i buy a ticket — it distills, intensifying for the weeks leading up to the flight. I think about how to eliminate every other stressor. Passengers hate it when someone takes too long loading their bag into the overhead compartments. I pay to check a bag, so that my fellow passengers wont have any additional reasons to complain about. I practice how I will sit on the plane, pushing my body against the cabin wall, one arm holding the other firmly over my chest, so that I will make no physical contact with the person sitting next.
to explain to my boss, partner, friend, family why they wont be seeing me this week. Southwest famously let director kevin Smith board, then publicly escorted him off the plane for looking too fat for his seat. United will refuse to board you unless you agree to purchase an additional ticket at the day-of price, and who has 600 to spare? I check first class prices, where seats are slightly wider and put me at less risk of passenger complaints. JetBlue doesnt have a policy — which means it is the most unsafe of all. I flash back to my last flight on JetBlue, when a passenger loudly complained to a flight attendant while i sat next to him, about how he couldnt be expected to travel like this. She moved him to another seat, switching with another passenger. She wouldnt make eye contact with me for the entire flight. Neither would the other passengers in my row.
I will have to get on a plane. And i am fat. There is a common trope about this very situation, shown frequently on tv, in illustrations, in casually irritated conversation. Fat people are shown on planes all the time: loud, obnoxious, elbowing people, taking up space, getting cheetos crumbs all over ourselves and you, our whole online existence designed to make you miserable. That caricature doesnt just hurt when I see it — I crumble under its weight. I am a confident woman with wonderful friends, like you, and a fantastic job. But when I see that caricature of who Im expected to be, i crumple, sinking so quickly into a wave of depression and alienation. It couldnt be further from my experience. Theres so much that happens before i even buy a ticket.
What its like to be that fat person sitting next to you
My breath tightens immediately when the call comes. Its my bosss boss, telling me theres an important meeting in another city. Or maybe its a mini friend, inviting me to her wedding in California. Sometimes, it is a family member whose health is failing, and the time has come to say goodbye. The news hits hard — its a high-pressure time for my job, friend, family. My heart is pounding and my breath is tightening. I close my eyes, feel my feet on the ground and my breath in my throat, trying desperately to avoid the embarrassment of a full-blown panic attack at work.