So amazing...here I am.

This is my last year at Prescott College. As such, I am not sure what to feel. Over the past four years I have experienced more than I ever thought I would, and a list of everything that has happened would be impossible to construct. Although, here are some amazing opportunities:

• Orientation was mesmerizing
• Met my best friends, whom I have lived with since school began
• Journalist, copy-editor, and designer for student newspaper
• Volunteered at a school for homeless children in Phoenix
• Rafted, hiked, and horse-packed widely throughout the Grand Canyon
• Rock climbed extensively throughout Joshua Tree National Park and the Prescott area
• Attended a rally to support Arizona teachers in Phoenix
• Team member on an academically inclined 800 mile horse-packing expedition down the Arizona Trail from Utah to Mexico focusing on relational leadership, the psychology of sustainability, and integrative education. Moreover, this was the first expedition of its kind on the Arizona Trail.
• Became incredibly involved in the mountain biking world
• Completed a 200 hour yoga teacher training during winter block. We did yoga for 8-10 hours a day during the four week class in my favorite classroom on campus.
• Took a class called Rock Climbing and Geology
• Became the events coordinator for the Prescott College Peace and Justice Center. This meant organizing, writing grants, and introducing speakers and musicians from all over the world.
• Certified as a Peer Educator through the Bacchus Network during a Prescott College class. This is a nationally recognized certification in the human development industry.
• Took an improvisational dance class that changed my whole outlook on the way I move.
• Teachers assistant for a class called Holistic Health and Wellness. This was focused upon yoga, massage, physiological structures, integrative medicine, and a group sauna at the end.
• Had an education class where we traveled by van throughout Arizona and Colorado to teach in some of the most effective K-12 schools in the country. During this time, we wrote lesson plans while on the road, worked with great teachers, and after some time took on the teacher’s role.
• Completed my last year, after five, as a rock climbing guide and instructor trainer.
• Active member in the Strategic Planning Committee for the future of Prescott College; specifically in the area of Student Success and Support
• Changed my competence title to Liberatory Education
• Traveled solo throughout most of Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua.
• Worked at an orphanage in eastern Guatemala. A twenty minute boat ride to the nearest town down the Sweet River in the middle of dense jungle.
• Wayne Regina’s Models of Leadership class
• Jordana Dezeeuw Spencer’s Feminism and Social Justice class
• Sitting here right now, and being able to reflect upon these amazing experiences.  

In effect, I am not writing all of this to be self-righteous. Essentially, I am grateful for the education I have received. Prescott College is like no other school in the country. I can say this because I have looked. During my college search I explored everywhere from Princeton to Marlboro, Reed to Naropa, and many others in between. This is not to say these are bad schools, I just took a more reflective process than merely picking a school because of how many swimming pools there were. As such, I looked deeply into the who, how, and why of myself. It just came to be that Prescott College made more sense then anything else, which still holds true even after going into $40,000 of student loan debt.

What I am moving toward is that Prescott College has been one of most mesmerizing and awesome experiences of my life; using awesome in terms of being in complete awe of my classmates, professors, and available opportunities. I could not imagine going to any other school in the world. I have learned that I am braver than I believed, stronger than I seemed, and smarter than I thought I could be.

Essentially, Prescott College does not have a lot of stuff. We don’t have several swimming pools, a permanent croquet field, or big fraternities and sororities. We don’t need these things. Prescott College is community. Prescott College is exploring our deepest potentials. Prescott College asks us who we are, along with what we know. Schools come in all different shapes and sizes, some are for-profit and others are for life long learners.

When choosing a school, look at the journey that may present itself. For it will not matter what the name was, but what was learned. It will not matter how many students attended the school, but who we met along the way. We are all looking for a sense of belonging; a place where we are understood. For me, Prescott College has been, and continues to be, that place.
Enjoy the journey…

 -Jordan Kivitz, 09.2011

Why are you ruining my silk ties

“Why are you ruining my silk ties?” my Dad asks, as I am tying them together to make a rope.
“These seem to be the strongest ones and I don’t want to fall,” I said.

I am six years old and just wanted to climb, apparently my Dad did not understand. This is where I met my first love, her name is found high above the trees; hair like the wind, eyes like the sky.

My connection to climbing is one beyond mere sport, but it is how I think, how I move, how I am me. However, at times I must step back from what I love in order to see why it is such a large piece of who I am. A great teacher of mine once said, “If we cannot venture off by ourselves without the one we love, it is best to let them go.”

In many ways there is nothing like pushing our entire limit of fear while our last piece of protection is dwindling twenty feet below, only passing into the unknown, and then having the volume turned down on events that before may have seemed important, but only coming to understand they meant nothing at all. Or, climbing half way up a project and working the same route over and over until we are so exhausted that we have only one more try left in our bodies. Then miraculously, when we are most tired, and our minds become quiet we flow through what seemed so far away, and understand that it is only when we let go do we ever truly hold on to what really matters.
Everything that I hold to be important in my life I have learned from climbing. Is the fear that I am going through real or is it just my imagination? What is important right now, and what can wait? Can I trust the person belaying me, of course I can? Should I just walk away, or perhaps get myself into a mis-educative danger?

Bruce Lee once said that a martial art is, “Honestly expressing ourselves through movement.” For I believe that spoken language can only reach so deep into our souls, but that most communication comes from body language. Climbing is how I express myself; no words, just moving, because that is how I think; attempting to understand the rock rather than trying to conquer it.

Life is a shovel, now dig

How did I know that the sun was going to come out this morning?

a) I guessed
b) I was lucky
Or,
c) It was written


Many things happen in our lives that seem to “just make sense.” As Joseph Campbell once wrote, “We must stop living the life that we have planned, in order to live the life that is waiting for us.” This is the life that was written. Some may say there is no destiny, and they are right, just as some say there is no free-will, and they are also right; for we have both, we have a free-destiny. We have the freedom to choose, but only to choose from what is in front of us.

We can do anything, and this is sometimes forgotten. Some say, “Well, we just need to think positively and it will come true,” but this is only half of what needs to be done. For the entire equation is something I call “Activated thinking;” this not only means knowing we can and will, but also doing, preparing, and activating our entire life. We must change in order for a change to take place in our lives.

In the fall, I will be participating on an expedition, traveling the entire Arizona trail; 800 miles on horseback. This has never been done before, and the course will be part of the Paul Smith’s PhD dissertation, a faculty member in the Human Development program. This is an entire semester length course sprawling from September to December, with four classes taught on the trail. One of these courses is an independent study that I am putting together that asks: how can an expedition like this be implemented in a public school with a standards based curriculum? How can a school with students from medium to low-income families raise the money necessary to carry out such an expedition, or one of a shorter length?
In order to get into this class I needed to turn in an application with references, and then was reviewed by a committee. During this time there was no need to worry, for how do we know if the sun will be out the next day even if the clouds are in the way, “it is written.” When an action takes place that seems to just fit with the world, with our current lifestyle, and our current mindset, it is no longer a struggle to fit the piece into a puzzle, but a peace of mind that overtakes all worry. Just breathe, be patient, listen, learn, and take action according to what we truly want in life; this is the secret, nothing more.

As Emerson once said, "Always do what you are afraid to do."

For the biggest risk is not taking one.

car trips, pesos, and parking lots

Our eyes took in the viridian water of the Sea of Cortez as we stood at the end of the nameless road. My eyes’ wanting to close from sheer exhaustion, but my heart keeps them open for the sake of beauty.

Oh Guaymas Mexico, I will forever remember your name, never able to count the ways.

Spring break for many students means different things. At many other colleges this may symbolize a week of debauchery and broken bottles. For me, when the classroom doors close, my arms open up to what the world has to offer, with nothing in my hands but seventy mile-an-hour winds while their hanging out the side of a an open car window, traveling.

This time was a little different. One of my best friends, Elise, came down from Utah to visit me and one morning we decided it was a good idea to pick a town on a map and go. No planning, just the constant surprises of a journey, and the mesmerizing ideals of pure freedom. Little did we know of the quote by Benjamin Franklin, “Those who do not prepare, are preparing to fail.”

The tip of my finger found its way south to Guaymas, Mexico on the Sea of Cortez; 300 miles over the border. We tossed our tooth-brushes in the car and headed out at 11am without a whim to the air, but a beat to our hearts.

Passing through Nogales; bam we were south of the border. In a place that everyone said we shouldn’t go, probably for good reason, but I believe that the biggest risk is not taking one, for this is where the wild things are and this is where lessons are learned. To be shaken out of habit, fully aware with every one of my senses turned on; nothing written in English, men washing our windshield at stoplights, people everywhere, the sound of cars with no exhaust, and a slight sweetness to the air; we are alive.

Outside of town, the Sonoran desert is beautiful and allowed to be itself; no gas-stations, electrical wires, and few cars, out here life is allowed to live.

We arrived in a city called Hermosillo around 6:30 and stopped in a hotel to find a bathroom and get some pesos. Nobody spoke any English which was refreshing, but Elise found a piano and toned down our culture-shock with some Beethoven; still no pesos though as all the banks were closed.

Arriving in Guaymas at 8:30pm, there are many people out walking, although the town seems a little rough on more than just the edges. We have an eighth a tank of gas, no money, and no place to sleep other than the car with Illinois license plates and “Happiness” written in soap on the windows. I suppose Benjamin Franklin was correct in his prior justification towards preparation.

We parked the car in a blockbuster parking feeling a little bit closer to home, reading each other poetry in order to let go of the fears that kept bubbling up. Then, waking up the next morning everything was beautiful; the sun greeted us with its brilliance and the mountains said hello with great humility. The locals were very beautiful people and we became instant celebrities being the only Americans around. We found a bank, bought some gas, ate some food, and decided to drive to San Diego, but in the end just drove home around the Mexicali boarder. Both of us were exhausted from the night before, and wished we would have planned a little bit more, definitely learning a very important lesson. However, we fulfilled a dream of picking a town and going without any preconceived notions, but we overwhelmingly scared ourselves by sleeping in a parking lot deep in Mexico, the one place everyone said we shouldn’t go.

I’ll get enough rest when I’m dead

Many lives are led by each student at Prescott College. At times, I am hard at work researching why diversity is usually seen as to how long our ancestors have been in the sun, but in all truth, diversity is a confluence of ideas rushing into the ocean of human experience. Then I slip into another body and take advantage of all the amazing climbing in and around Prescott, among avenues of beautiful boulders and tall granite. However, the idea of going to school here is of the medium that we must stay active whatever our pursuit. This means taking advantage of the opportunities that present themselves and not staying in the house watching videos on You Tube. As Benjamin Franklin once said, “I’ll get enough rest when I’m dead.”
After speaking to many of the seniors here, the one thing they regret is not taking advantage of what is available here Prescott College. There are clubs that promote everything from teaching an immigrant from Latin America the English language and in return they teach us Spanish, any number of the social justice groups, community events, and social gatherings are a normal part of everyday life. I am paying $22,000, before financial aid, for a nine month buffet of experiences I cannot get anywhere else. Yet, at times I feel that I am only eating from the salad bar, nothing against vegetarians, but I want something with sustenance. So, learning from the feedback of those who have traveled down this path before, we must understand that if we want something in life we must reach out and grab it because there is no person who is going to do this for us. When we are born, our mothers and fathers feed us and protect us, but once we leave the nest it is up to us to find what we are good at, what brings us joy, and how we can actively make a positive change in society. For living in idleness is an immorality upon this gift called life.
Please understand I am not trying to be a motivational speaker or an evangelist of any kind. All that I am attempting to do is give an honest view of what Prescott College actually is, we are a place that “Graduates society’s leaders for the 21st century.” Additionally, leaders are not those who live in “quiet desperation,” but must constantly ask themselves, “what is my intention, and how am will I grow from this experience.” For life is short, and if we don’t stop and look around sometimes, were going to miss it. So go out there and live, for death is not just for those who have stopped breathing.

Change is the only constant

Change is the only constant, and I am unendingly shown this through the people I meet and the places I go. Sometimes I get so caught up in my academic work that I forget I am in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

While walking down my street I hear my phone ring, and flip it open. It’s my friend Kelly and she asks, “Do you want to go to a hot spring with me and few friends?” This is what I mean by change, the little nuances that visit us within our days. Some call them miracles, others divine intervention, I just call them beautiful surprises. So, of course I went to the hot spring; for the most powerful word in the English language is not love, or peace, or F#&%, but yes.

About an hour away from Prescott, the Camp Verde Hot Spring sits for those who would like to partake in its wonderfully warm waters, one of many within the region. However, driving there means hopping in a four-wheel-drive vehicle, traveling down a scenic highway for half an hour, then up and down a treacherously muddy dirt road that stops at a trail on the side of the Verde River.

The hike is roughly two miles to where we must cross the crisp waters of the mildly raging river with our pants off, and boots tied together hanging around our necks. Walking barefoot for a half mile because the smooth river stones massage the bottoms of our feet, we arrive and there is already a guy and a girl sitting in the bowl shaped spring, with slight wisps of steam rising from the clear water.

Easing myself in, the girl sitting across from me is from Portland, Oregon and makes specialty chocolate which she sells in jars, and she just happened to have some. It tasted like a garden full of magical flowers, and when I closed my eyes, my nostrils filled with a sweet potion, universally altering my consciousness. For this is the most real I have felt in a very long time, and is greater than anything the pharmaceutical company could ever produce, it is experience that creates sorrow and bliss, not a synthetic tablet that promises escape and numbness; I am here, and wherever I go, there I am.

We stayed until the beauty of darkness prevailed, and the stars were the only ones awake, all the while the moon was under its dark covers staying warm, not awaking and reflecting for anyone. Walking back to the river barefoot, there was just enough light to perceive the shadows on either side of the path, and then crossing the river, a feeling of rebirth rushed over my retinas, and I perceived my life with a entirely new set of perceptions, and the understanding as to what is truly important, and what can glide away with the unanimous night.

Driving back home, I thought about what I planned in the morning, and how different the day actually turned out. For life is one big game of checkers, cause and effect, and on one side I make my own decisions with my black-pieces, but on the other side controlling the red pieces is change. We have a free-destiny in this life of ours, we move our own pieces, and the universe moves some as well.

Grand Canyon

Sitting in the van, on the bumpy road of the Hualapai Indian reservation, I conjured up thoughts of how the trip would pan out. Me and 19 other classmates, four guides, one teacher’s assistant, and one professor, traveled down that dusty road towards the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. We had five rafts, 23 paddles, enough delicious food for six nights and five days, and dry bags galore, all neatly piled into the backs of two trailers and two vans.
We cast off, hitting the rapids right out of the gate. This was to be a journey of personal discovery for us all. Everyday we all woke up, prepared breakfast, then paddled through beautiful rapids and flowing river, all day.
Pulling into camp, we all explored the lower canyon made up of streams and beautiful curry colored rock, though some friends and I usually went off to find our own adventures. One particular time is the exploration of a waterfall, which the guides talked about during breakfast. The five of us walked behind camp and followed a stream, until we saw the opening of a cave. Entering of course, the top was open and daylight poured through. Trudging on, the sound of falling water vibrated throughout, and eventually showed itself, like a unicorn trusting us enough to show its purity. My friend Kelsey and I climbed up the side, while everyone else admired from the ground. While we both stood next to the rushing water, we noticed a small nook large enough for three people to crouch in behind the water. Crawling in, we were about ten feet off the ground huddled next to each other. The cold water cascaded in front of us, like a picturesque dream. My friend Toy ended up climbing up the side as well, and I guided him towards the best way in. Mystics say that venturing behind a waterfall is one of the holiest places on earth, I agree.
As the whole group paddled through the Grand Canyon, the river eventually opened up into Lake Mead, seventy-five miles from our starting point. Our lives were forever changed in all directions. Stories were told, eyes met, and trust was found. Ah, the life of a student at Prescott College.