When I was in college, I closeted in Religion for a semester while I got my grades up enough to get into English (that's right, I was so bad!) and for that semester I took several religion classes. One of them was Religous Ethics. We had a very interesting set of discussions in that class. One of the most heated was about Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X.
The crux of the discussion was that while I disagreed with Malcolm's religious beliefs and methodology, I had more admiration for him than Martin Luther King because MLK (as historical records have shown) did not truly adhere to his own moral tenants. Saying that the room exploded on this statement really wouldn't cover it. I'm lucky I was not killed... (honestly I was thinking lynched, but apparently that is a racially specific and charged term, so while it would be appropriate to this discussion I can't use it.) It was actually a good discussion when it was all said and done.
The thing is I wish I could go back and have it again, not because my opinion on that situation has changed, but there was more to the statement I wish I had made. MLK was a flawed individual and I think he was diefied before a complete picture of him was completed, however, his dream was real and his dream is achievable and nessesary for all that this country can and should become.
As a teacher I work with students of all colors. More importantly I work with students of all socioeconomic groups and cultures. As young people, while it is in different areas depending on ability, interests and strengths, they all have great potential. They all do. While I do not really agree with the plan or purpose of No Child Left Behind (we do not all learn the same at the same rate and holding the others back until everyone catches up is stupid!) the idea that every child has value is a real one.
Two weeks ago, a young man who had been my student, who was working on the possibility of getting into the Naval Academy, who I had also interacted with through camp, walked into an Arby's with a pellet gun pained black to look like an assualt rifle and held it up for just over $500 dollars. He's 18, and he happens to be african american. He was a smart alec in class, and he always slid by by the skin of his teeth. Several teachers and I tried to talk to him about seeing that he was so important to the future, that we needed him to be a role model to the young men coming after, that he had a future. Apparently he couldn't make his rent. He figured that this way no one would get hurt (it wasn't actually the weapon it looked like) and he wasn't supporting other crime (he didn't get a illegal weapon, unmarked, unregistered, etc) and it was just something to get by...
His life as he knew it is over. His potential is not ended, but it is altered and for the most part it is of little use to the rest of the world for sometime, if ever.
I beleive MLK and Malcolm X would weep most for the loss of that young man. Because I think the lies got to him. The idea that armed robbery was his only option. He bought into the concept that... well I don't know what, but somehow I found myself thinking about that today.
There are other dreams too, that I think of on a day like today. But most of all I think of the loss of the dream that was that young man.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Who's Stupid!
OK, first of all watching Dawn of the Dead last night was a bad idea (and a somewhat bad movie to boot!) and made driving today in the post snowblown south a bit spooky. There was no one on the road this morning...
Which also means there was no one around to watch me make a fool of myself trying to open my car doors. They were frozen shut, or that's what I thought when I struggled and struggled to open them and they would not budge...
Then it dawned on me...
They were still locked!
Heaven help me!
Which also means there was no one around to watch me make a fool of myself trying to open my car doors. They were frozen shut, or that's what I thought when I struggled and struggled to open them and they would not budge...
Then it dawned on me...
They were still locked!
Heaven help me!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Today's Joy
Some days it is enough...
Most days it is enough...
Today it was enough...
The joy of others.
Engagements. Weddings. Babies. Jobs. Scholarships. Futures. Successful Outcomes.
Of others.
It's enough.
Today.
Nana is with me, today.
They took out that rotten tooth and she and I talked and she was the most lucid she's been in a month.
I could forget that I'm overwhelmed, and exhausted and terrified...
That May is coming and I don't know what to do or how I'm going to do it.
I reaveled in the hope and excitement of this coming summer. The old friends, comfortable relationships, new faces, new possibilities...
Today I am focusing on the joy of the others around me.
Today it is enough.
Lindsey and I were talking today. We talked about how much better I am, about how the therapy is helping, about how I was ready to grow beyond stuff, how God had a plan, a purpose.
We talked about how my heart is healing.
It is, and right now it is healing faster then my life is shredding it...
Sometimes I think that is possible because of the joy of others.
Today it is enough.
I'm praying it will be tomorrow, too.
Most days it is enough...
Today it was enough...
The joy of others.
Engagements. Weddings. Babies. Jobs. Scholarships. Futures. Successful Outcomes.
Of others.
It's enough.
Today.
Nana is with me, today.
They took out that rotten tooth and she and I talked and she was the most lucid she's been in a month.
I could forget that I'm overwhelmed, and exhausted and terrified...
That May is coming and I don't know what to do or how I'm going to do it.
I reaveled in the hope and excitement of this coming summer. The old friends, comfortable relationships, new faces, new possibilities...
Today I am focusing on the joy of the others around me.
Today it is enough.
Lindsey and I were talking today. We talked about how much better I am, about how the therapy is helping, about how I was ready to grow beyond stuff, how God had a plan, a purpose.
We talked about how my heart is healing.
It is, and right now it is healing faster then my life is shredding it...
Sometimes I think that is possible because of the joy of others.
Today it is enough.
I'm praying it will be tomorrow, too.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
The Visit
While my mom was visiting, she made Nana hot chocolate. Nana was immediately smitten with this "amazing flavor of tea" and demanded that mom make sure and teach me how to brew it correctly. We were chortling about that for a week.
Mom and I had the one run in during her visit, it lasted several hours, but it proved something to me. I truly do not have to ride the roller coaster, I can just wave as she went by. I truly feel I did that. It kept things in perspective and it allowed me to enjoy my mother's visit.
With one exception.
My mother's visit to my classroom. I will never make this mistake again. In hindsight it was probably the funniest set of things to happen in my room in sometime, but for me, personally the event was heart stopping.
Mother came to help me conduct an academic conversation with my class about Romeo and Juliet.
First Period Mom was great until the end of the period. Well, there were a few interesting moments. She told my students that I would IM her while they were taking tests, she said "a^^" and even wrote it on the board! Then at the end of the period she began to talk about her own mental health experiences. She was quick to point out that the hormonal depression that was genetic in my family and that both she and Nana suffered from had skipped me. She also explained about her own suicide attempt when she was 14. Obviously it was not successful.
Second period (and I think I have mentioned this story already) Nana was in rare form. She was cutting up and mugging for the class. Honestly it was great. Mom takes this opportunity to explain that the reason there was so much violence in Romeo and Juliet's time was that everyone was walking around with weapons. She added, to the class, "that would be like if you were walking around with a bazooka, and you a grenade, and you an oozie..." and there was nervous laughter, and then mom adds, "of course statistically, only one of us probably has a weapon." I immediately raised my hand and said, "it's not me." More laughter. Mom added that it wasn't her. Nana hold her cane over her head and says, "it's meeeeee!" The fact that we were actually on lock down because of an unaccounted for intruder in another school in the county was not lost on me. Nana also took off her name tag and put it over her mouth in that class.
Third period was when mother really hit her stride. She drew a cartoon on the board and told the students that it was "two maggots making love in dead Earnest." When I told her to knock it off, she said, "fine if you won't play with me, I'll sit over here and play with myself." Then she told the class that she was getting me a shirt that read, "Let's be naughty and save Santa the trip." When I tried to brush if off, I commented to the class, "You can see who the most mature person in my class is..." and Nana again piped up, "It's meeee!"
At lunch with my peers, Mom went into great detail explaining to them about how her therapist thinks she has an inappropriate sexual relationship with me... Though, she was bright enough not to try the addendum about how therefore I must be inappropriate with others.
Like I said, in hindsight the whole thing was pretty funny. The fact that I didn't get fired was a miracle. I figure the kids thought she was so entertaining that they didn't want me to get in trouble and didn't tell. Either way, I was off the hook.
She was supposed to leave on Friday, and she ended up leaving the following Tuesday night. But it wasn't too bad. Like I said, I did in the end have a good time. Most important I got the pictures I wanted of the three of us together.
Mom and I had the one run in during her visit, it lasted several hours, but it proved something to me. I truly do not have to ride the roller coaster, I can just wave as she went by. I truly feel I did that. It kept things in perspective and it allowed me to enjoy my mother's visit.
With one exception.
My mother's visit to my classroom. I will never make this mistake again. In hindsight it was probably the funniest set of things to happen in my room in sometime, but for me, personally the event was heart stopping.
Mother came to help me conduct an academic conversation with my class about Romeo and Juliet.
First Period Mom was great until the end of the period. Well, there were a few interesting moments. She told my students that I would IM her while they were taking tests, she said "a^^" and even wrote it on the board! Then at the end of the period she began to talk about her own mental health experiences. She was quick to point out that the hormonal depression that was genetic in my family and that both she and Nana suffered from had skipped me. She also explained about her own suicide attempt when she was 14. Obviously it was not successful.
Second period (and I think I have mentioned this story already) Nana was in rare form. She was cutting up and mugging for the class. Honestly it was great. Mom takes this opportunity to explain that the reason there was so much violence in Romeo and Juliet's time was that everyone was walking around with weapons. She added, to the class, "that would be like if you were walking around with a bazooka, and you a grenade, and you an oozie..." and there was nervous laughter, and then mom adds, "of course statistically, only one of us probably has a weapon." I immediately raised my hand and said, "it's not me." More laughter. Mom added that it wasn't her. Nana hold her cane over her head and says, "it's meeeeee!" The fact that we were actually on lock down because of an unaccounted for intruder in another school in the county was not lost on me. Nana also took off her name tag and put it over her mouth in that class.
Third period was when mother really hit her stride. She drew a cartoon on the board and told the students that it was "two maggots making love in dead Earnest." When I told her to knock it off, she said, "fine if you won't play with me, I'll sit over here and play with myself." Then she told the class that she was getting me a shirt that read, "Let's be naughty and save Santa the trip." When I tried to brush if off, I commented to the class, "You can see who the most mature person in my class is..." and Nana again piped up, "It's meeee!"
At lunch with my peers, Mom went into great detail explaining to them about how her therapist thinks she has an inappropriate sexual relationship with me... Though, she was bright enough not to try the addendum about how therefore I must be inappropriate with others.
Like I said, in hindsight the whole thing was pretty funny. The fact that I didn't get fired was a miracle. I figure the kids thought she was so entertaining that they didn't want me to get in trouble and didn't tell. Either way, I was off the hook.
She was supposed to leave on Friday, and she ended up leaving the following Tuesday night. But it wasn't too bad. Like I said, I did in the end have a good time. Most important I got the pictures I wanted of the three of us together.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Why I haven't written
There were so many stories I wanted to tell.
When I looked up from the counter of the hotel and noticed that my van, with Nana in it, was moving. Now I knew the keys were in the car and that it was on, but there was no driver. So I swore at the clerk and went racing out the door, my heart in my throat, to discover that my brother, the big jerk, had snuck up, gotten behind the wheel and driven off expressly to scare me witless. Did I mention he's a big jerk!
That Nana had one of her loopy phases and kept announcing that she needed to get home and putting on her coat when we were at my brother's apartment, so we hid her coat. She simply put on mine.
That the young man who did that horrific thing to me got fired, or he decided to leave, or whatever, but he's gone. Theoretically I never have to see him again. He e-mailed me to tell me this was a big "miscommunication" (he wasn't let go because of me, by the way, there was another issue) and I wrote him a detailed e-mail explaining why that was the dumbest thing I had ever heard and explaining in detail how he hurt me... I stood up for myself and it was a good thing.
That one of my dearest friends is engaged and I am so excited for her.
That once again everyone around me is getting pregnant and I'm afraid I am a fertility goddess... Which just confirms that I better be careful who I choose to be intimate with, I would probably get pregnant the first time, therefore...
Anyway, I wanted to talk about all of those things and more, but I can't.
Because.
Something is wrong. I don't know what, or why, or how to explain it, but there is. Maybe it has nothing to do with me, but something worries me that it does. I have this thing with paranoia, but that doesn't mean someone isn't out to get me... j/k.
What I mean is I think there is something wrong with someone I am friends with. I don't know if I did something wrong, or if they are hurting or if it's something completely unexpected, but I feel that there is something not right. But I can't ask or push. So I have to wait and see. That is really hard. (Update: Turns out I really am just a paranoid freak... Nevermind!)
Further, I fear that I am about to hurt another friend. Something that I thought would work, now seems that it won't, and I have to tell them. I am disapointed, and I think they will be too, but I know it's the right thing. Course, I also am still hoping they will be my friend and even help me out on another, but related cunundrum. How big a jerk does that make me?
Nana will probably go into a retirement home in May and I will be alone, at least till camp, provided I go, which might not work the way I wanted it to either. Being alone terrifies me in ways I can't explain and while I know this is the right step I feel so guilty for not being strong enough to keep Nana longer.
Then of course there is the general camp politics. People never do things the way I want them to, when I want them to. There is this really terrific opportunity in the north for camp, for my assistant for three weeks, and everyone agrees that it is a terrific thing, and they want it too, willing to go the extra mile and all that, but when "they get around to it..." and I want them to take care of it now, so it's settled.
Anyway.
All this, especially the paranoia, is why I haven't written.
When I looked up from the counter of the hotel and noticed that my van, with Nana in it, was moving. Now I knew the keys were in the car and that it was on, but there was no driver. So I swore at the clerk and went racing out the door, my heart in my throat, to discover that my brother, the big jerk, had snuck up, gotten behind the wheel and driven off expressly to scare me witless. Did I mention he's a big jerk!
That Nana had one of her loopy phases and kept announcing that she needed to get home and putting on her coat when we were at my brother's apartment, so we hid her coat. She simply put on mine.
That the young man who did that horrific thing to me got fired, or he decided to leave, or whatever, but he's gone. Theoretically I never have to see him again. He e-mailed me to tell me this was a big "miscommunication" (he wasn't let go because of me, by the way, there was another issue) and I wrote him a detailed e-mail explaining why that was the dumbest thing I had ever heard and explaining in detail how he hurt me... I stood up for myself and it was a good thing.
That one of my dearest friends is engaged and I am so excited for her.
That once again everyone around me is getting pregnant and I'm afraid I am a fertility goddess... Which just confirms that I better be careful who I choose to be intimate with, I would probably get pregnant the first time, therefore...
Anyway, I wanted to talk about all of those things and more, but I can't.
Because.
Something is wrong. I don't know what, or why, or how to explain it, but there is. Maybe it has nothing to do with me, but something worries me that it does. I have this thing with paranoia, but that doesn't mean someone isn't out to get me... j/k.
What I mean is I think there is something wrong with someone I am friends with. I don't know if I did something wrong, or if they are hurting or if it's something completely unexpected, but I feel that there is something not right. But I can't ask or push. So I have to wait and see. That is really hard. (Update: Turns out I really am just a paranoid freak... Nevermind!)
Further, I fear that I am about to hurt another friend. Something that I thought would work, now seems that it won't, and I have to tell them. I am disapointed, and I think they will be too, but I know it's the right thing. Course, I also am still hoping they will be my friend and even help me out on another, but related cunundrum. How big a jerk does that make me?
Nana will probably go into a retirement home in May and I will be alone, at least till camp, provided I go, which might not work the way I wanted it to either. Being alone terrifies me in ways I can't explain and while I know this is the right step I feel so guilty for not being strong enough to keep Nana longer.
Then of course there is the general camp politics. People never do things the way I want them to, when I want them to. There is this really terrific opportunity in the north for camp, for my assistant for three weeks, and everyone agrees that it is a terrific thing, and they want it too, willing to go the extra mile and all that, but when "they get around to it..." and I want them to take care of it now, so it's settled.
Anyway.
All this, especially the paranoia, is why I haven't written.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Holiday
So I've been in the central eastern, northern middle US visiting my brother, his wife and my folks (dad and step mom) for the Christmas Holiday. Hotel accommodations, rooming with Nana and just the differences in peoples lives/schedules have sucked a lot out of me. However, I promise (especially you, Jasmine) that I will be up and at it come Saturday when I'm home for good. There have been many stories from the 13th. There is how the whole whale debacle ended, Mother's visit, driving 13 hours with Nana, surviving in-laws, steps and fathers, and the great what to do about ailing canines discussion. Lots to share. Plus come January 2, I get a whole new batch of students, will be directing Romeo and Juliet and have to get my butt in gear and get a PhD in, not to mention my hope to run a 5K before camp.
So, by all means, stay tuned!
So, by all means, stay tuned!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
So it's come and gone...
And I am 32.
This is what I know.
I am so blessed!
This weekend (and I'll talk about it later) brought to me how many wonderful people I have in my life. It's been something I've been seeing for a while now, I think I've even mentioned it before recently, but it bears repeating.
God has given me so much.
Mostly it is people that comprise my blessing. People who check on me, love me, accept me and are there for me. There are other things too, moments where I literally can see God's hand. This weekend I am also awed by his healing.
The desire of my heart, one of the two, maybe I should say, was granted this weekend and I am "still standing" to prove it.
As I stood in the glow of God's victory I was humbled by the people he has put in my life, the blessings they are.
I am about a third through my life. If the next sixty six percent is anywhere near as full as this past thirty three, I may be one of the richest women in the world.
I can't wait to see what else He has in store.
This is what I know.
I am so blessed!
This weekend (and I'll talk about it later) brought to me how many wonderful people I have in my life. It's been something I've been seeing for a while now, I think I've even mentioned it before recently, but it bears repeating.
God has given me so much.
Mostly it is people that comprise my blessing. People who check on me, love me, accept me and are there for me. There are other things too, moments where I literally can see God's hand. This weekend I am also awed by his healing.
The desire of my heart, one of the two, maybe I should say, was granted this weekend and I am "still standing" to prove it.
As I stood in the glow of God's victory I was humbled by the people he has put in my life, the blessings they are.
I am about a third through my life. If the next sixty six percent is anywhere near as full as this past thirty three, I may be one of the richest women in the world.
I can't wait to see what else He has in store.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Here we go...
Mom is on her way. She'll be here in the morning.
Honestly, I am excited. I'm looking forward to seeing her and can't wait to hug her.
Then there is also the part of me that is waiting with baited breath to see what will happen. How will it go. And most importantly...
What will she do.
Will she go through my personal things and meddle, say something horrific that I have to live with, hurt me, hurt Nana (not in the physical sense, I don't worry as much about that...) borrow more money.
How can one person evoke such conflicting reactions? What does it say about me that I can both adore and abhor someone at the same time.
For the most part Mom's visits go pretty well. Or they have as of late, it's usually the coda that makes them "memorable."
We'll have to see how it goes.
Honestly, I am excited. I'm looking forward to seeing her and can't wait to hug her.
Then there is also the part of me that is waiting with baited breath to see what will happen. How will it go. And most importantly...
What will she do.
Will she go through my personal things and meddle, say something horrific that I have to live with, hurt me, hurt Nana (not in the physical sense, I don't worry as much about that...) borrow more money.
How can one person evoke such conflicting reactions? What does it say about me that I can both adore and abhor someone at the same time.
For the most part Mom's visits go pretty well. Or they have as of late, it's usually the coda that makes them "memorable."
We'll have to see how it goes.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Today
First and Foremost, today my dear brother is 29, for the first time. It is so funny to think of him as grown, highly educated, married and a minister when I also remember that bright eyed cheerful little boy in the blue sear sucker Easter suit.
Also today I was squeezing one of those stress balls, the kind that are covered with mesh so that when you squeeze it the ball gooshes out of the spaces like little blisters. Often the balls change colors on the boils. Anyway I had one that was pick with orange boils. It ruptured and my hand was covered with the gak that apparently fills these balls. The only person more surprised than me, was of course my students.
Then this poor kid fell asleep in third period. Kid was out cold. Bell rang for lunch and he didn't move. The class cleared out and this kid was still sleeping. I considered leaving him there, but that seemed mean, as he probably needed to eat. So when everyone was gone, I got down and said, rather loudly, "Long Weekend?" Kid jumped up spluttering, "I'm OK. Gotta go now. Um, bye!" Later he told me his baby sister was sick last night. I believe him.
That and we are studying Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 today. The famous balcony scene. In small chunks most of it is terribly romantic. All together the whole diatribe is the most sickly sweet and disgusting display of ridiculous and juvenile behavior. It is so funny to read. The class and I spent most of the period in stitches.
Today, was a good day.
Also today I was squeezing one of those stress balls, the kind that are covered with mesh so that when you squeeze it the ball gooshes out of the spaces like little blisters. Often the balls change colors on the boils. Anyway I had one that was pick with orange boils. It ruptured and my hand was covered with the gak that apparently fills these balls. The only person more surprised than me, was of course my students.
Then this poor kid fell asleep in third period. Kid was out cold. Bell rang for lunch and he didn't move. The class cleared out and this kid was still sleeping. I considered leaving him there, but that seemed mean, as he probably needed to eat. So when everyone was gone, I got down and said, rather loudly, "Long Weekend?" Kid jumped up spluttering, "I'm OK. Gotta go now. Um, bye!" Later he told me his baby sister was sick last night. I believe him.
That and we are studying Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 today. The famous balcony scene. In small chunks most of it is terribly romantic. All together the whole diatribe is the most sickly sweet and disgusting display of ridiculous and juvenile behavior. It is so funny to read. The class and I spent most of the period in stitches.
Today, was a good day.
Friday, November 30, 2007
20 Lashes...
So I was grading papers in the middle school office and noticed the blood pressure cuff...
Sure, why not.
150/98.
Yeah, I'm in trouble.
So I need to go back on my meds, and I need to talk to a doctor about it again, I imagine.
I turn 32 in two weeks.
I am too young to feel this old, for my body to be this old. There are too many things I want to do. Too many things I am doing.
If you ask me how old I am I have to fight myself not to say 16. Except 16 year olds strike me as naive idiots. At least immature morons.
Some 18 year olds strike me that way too. Even a 20-something or too...
Sometimes me. I shouldn't have stopped taking the pills. That I can fix tonight.
God only knows about the danger to my heart. Hypertension is not a joke or a game.
Then comes the question. When Nana goes to a home in May, will this get better. I'd really like to believe this is not me. What do I do if it is?
And now I yelled at Nana.
20 Lashes with a wet noodle. Fat Free of course.
Sure, why not.
150/98.
Yeah, I'm in trouble.
So I need to go back on my meds, and I need to talk to a doctor about it again, I imagine.
I turn 32 in two weeks.
I am too young to feel this old, for my body to be this old. There are too many things I want to do. Too many things I am doing.
If you ask me how old I am I have to fight myself not to say 16. Except 16 year olds strike me as naive idiots. At least immature morons.
Some 18 year olds strike me that way too. Even a 20-something or too...
Sometimes me. I shouldn't have stopped taking the pills. That I can fix tonight.
God only knows about the danger to my heart. Hypertension is not a joke or a game.
Then comes the question. When Nana goes to a home in May, will this get better. I'd really like to believe this is not me. What do I do if it is?
And now I yelled at Nana.
20 Lashes with a wet noodle. Fat Free of course.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Knowing
It has never been a secret to me that for most people I am a lot. It's that emotional lightning rod thing.
People, I imagine, find me amusing, entertaining, exhausting and a bit intense, if not at least a little crazy.
I worry about that. How I must scare and fascinate people.
Because I know the flip side of all this, the scared little girl who just wants someone to love her and for everyone to get along.
Why is that picture so hard for people to see?
It's really late, I'm really tired and with everything else, right now everything is making me freak. I am looking for hidden meanings in how long it takes people to e-mail me back and whether they do at all and what they mean underneath what they write. So, if this makes no sense, don't worry about it. I'm not sure it was supposed to.
People, I imagine, find me amusing, entertaining, exhausting and a bit intense, if not at least a little crazy.
I worry about that. How I must scare and fascinate people.
Because I know the flip side of all this, the scared little girl who just wants someone to love her and for everyone to get along.
Why is that picture so hard for people to see?
It's really late, I'm really tired and with everything else, right now everything is making me freak. I am looking for hidden meanings in how long it takes people to e-mail me back and whether they do at all and what they mean underneath what they write. So, if this makes no sense, don't worry about it. I'm not sure it was supposed to.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Post Thanksgiving Nanaism
Nana was on the phone with my brother and he was explaining that in the cold Chicago wind his face was wind burned.
Nana says, "If I told you a dirty joke your face would be really red... But I can't remember any dirty jokes anymore... Sandy, do I know any good dirty jokes? Do you know any good dirty jokes we could tell your brother to make his face even redder?"
Only my Nana!
Happy Holidays.
Nana says, "If I told you a dirty joke your face would be really red... But I can't remember any dirty jokes anymore... Sandy, do I know any good dirty jokes? Do you know any good dirty jokes we could tell your brother to make his face even redder?"
Only my Nana!
Happy Holidays.
Friday, November 23, 2007
On a different note...
A student sent me an e-mail yesterday about how he had gone looking on the Internet looking for good essays. He found one and just had to share it with me.
The e-mail he sent was one of the most hysterical things I have read in some time. Also, how cool is it that a student of mine was interested enough in what we've been talking about to go looking for it and critique as well.
Pardon me while I polish an apple on my shirt for a second.
This week Nana and I are babysitting two dogs that belong to a really great couple I know and their son. The dogs are Jack and Simon. Simon is a very old retriever/lab mix and Jack is some kind of small fluffy lap dog. The pair of them are a hoot. Jack helped me catch another mouse. Or more specifically, I caught another mouse in a sticky trap and Jack brought it and set it up on the couch for me. Wasn't that sweet?
Anyway, so for Thanksgiving we had a canine heard. Roo is not real keen on all of this, but Piper is in Dog Heaven. It's a good thing and Nana is amused if slightly confused. Counting to two was an occasional challenge for her. Four is down right difficult.
My cold is getting better and I still have two days before going back to work.
Good Day.
The e-mail he sent was one of the most hysterical things I have read in some time. Also, how cool is it that a student of mine was interested enough in what we've been talking about to go looking for it and critique as well.
Pardon me while I polish an apple on my shirt for a second.
This week Nana and I are babysitting two dogs that belong to a really great couple I know and their son. The dogs are Jack and Simon. Simon is a very old retriever/lab mix and Jack is some kind of small fluffy lap dog. The pair of them are a hoot. Jack helped me catch another mouse. Or more specifically, I caught another mouse in a sticky trap and Jack brought it and set it up on the couch for me. Wasn't that sweet?
Anyway, so for Thanksgiving we had a canine heard. Roo is not real keen on all of this, but Piper is in Dog Heaven. It's a good thing and Nana is amused if slightly confused. Counting to two was an occasional challenge for her. Four is down right difficult.
My cold is getting better and I still have two days before going back to work.
Good Day.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Taking One for the Team
My dad called to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. As we talked a while, he asked me what was wrong. Daddy's always know, I guess. Because I am doing better, I have a lot to be thankful for and I'm being made to see what terrific friends I have in the face of a huge betrayal, but I am not exactly OK, yet. Daddies always know.
So I told him. We talked. Dad said I shouldn't have to work with someone who treated me that way. He said I didn't have to take one for the team this time.
He told me a story about a woman he knows. Her son had several friends growing up. They had sleep overs at her house, she knew their parents, fed them, picked them up from things. As teenagers they broke into her house and robbed her. This happened many years ago and Dad said he could still hear true pain in her voice when she told the story.
The young man who hurt me is an Eagle Scout. I am ashamed to say that, as I don't want his actions to sully the accomplishments and honor of the others that I know that hold that distinction... And the hundreds I don't know who I am confidant are honorable young men. He had eaten at my table, slept on my floor, I had gone to his Eagle ceremony, had dinner with his parents, I had cared for this kid when he was injured.
He is on staff at camp. This year he is going to be the director of a very important new department. Theoretically I won't see him much, but, as the safety officer I will cross paths with him.
Several of the guys have said to forget about it, to focus on the other guys who are wonderful, who love me, and the good things about camp. They are right. That's what I should do, what I will do, what I want to do, but I keep thinking about what Dad said, about taking one for the team.
There is something I could do. I could write a letter, to the head of the people that run camp and explain that I am not comfortable with that person anymore and why. In the past, there have been people who said, "If they come back to camp, I go." I hate those people, and I don't want to be like that. Then I think about what Dad said and taking one for the team. I'm not sure what to do.
This weekend a friend and I talked about how I would react to someone hurting me. We were talking about something that happened to someone else and how they fought back. I said, "If that had been me, I'd have just gone home and felt small, and let it be." and she said she wasn't sure that was true, and then I said, "You don't think I would have just taken it?" and she answered, "Well, if it had been some one else, you would have fought to defend them, but if it was you, just you, maybe you would have just taken it..." Lately I have been working on standing up for myself. Especially with my mom, but more than that.
The question I keep asking is how much is necessary. Is waiting to see what happens, and there may be more that happens that has nothing to do with me, is waiting and/or not doing anything at all "Taking One for the Team." What constitutes standing up for myself that I haven't already done.
How can I be so thankful for so much, be so happy with so much, have so many people who do care about me and I love them for it, love them regardless, and still be hurt enough after forty-eight hours that my dad could hear it in just my voice even though I am sick and my voice sounds funny anyway.
I told my Dad by the time school started on Monday I would be fine. I mean that.
I will be.
So I told him. We talked. Dad said I shouldn't have to work with someone who treated me that way. He said I didn't have to take one for the team this time.
He told me a story about a woman he knows. Her son had several friends growing up. They had sleep overs at her house, she knew their parents, fed them, picked them up from things. As teenagers they broke into her house and robbed her. This happened many years ago and Dad said he could still hear true pain in her voice when she told the story.
The young man who hurt me is an Eagle Scout. I am ashamed to say that, as I don't want his actions to sully the accomplishments and honor of the others that I know that hold that distinction... And the hundreds I don't know who I am confidant are honorable young men. He had eaten at my table, slept on my floor, I had gone to his Eagle ceremony, had dinner with his parents, I had cared for this kid when he was injured.
He is on staff at camp. This year he is going to be the director of a very important new department. Theoretically I won't see him much, but, as the safety officer I will cross paths with him.
Several of the guys have said to forget about it, to focus on the other guys who are wonderful, who love me, and the good things about camp. They are right. That's what I should do, what I will do, what I want to do, but I keep thinking about what Dad said, about taking one for the team.
There is something I could do. I could write a letter, to the head of the people that run camp and explain that I am not comfortable with that person anymore and why. In the past, there have been people who said, "If they come back to camp, I go." I hate those people, and I don't want to be like that. Then I think about what Dad said and taking one for the team. I'm not sure what to do.
This weekend a friend and I talked about how I would react to someone hurting me. We were talking about something that happened to someone else and how they fought back. I said, "If that had been me, I'd have just gone home and felt small, and let it be." and she said she wasn't sure that was true, and then I said, "You don't think I would have just taken it?" and she answered, "Well, if it had been some one else, you would have fought to defend them, but if it was you, just you, maybe you would have just taken it..." Lately I have been working on standing up for myself. Especially with my mom, but more than that.
The question I keep asking is how much is necessary. Is waiting to see what happens, and there may be more that happens that has nothing to do with me, is waiting and/or not doing anything at all "Taking One for the Team." What constitutes standing up for myself that I haven't already done.
How can I be so thankful for so much, be so happy with so much, have so many people who do care about me and I love them for it, love them regardless, and still be hurt enough after forty-eight hours that my dad could hear it in just my voice even though I am sick and my voice sounds funny anyway.
I told my Dad by the time school started on Monday I would be fine. I mean that.
I will be.
Giving Thanks
Thankful for the amazing people in my life that help me through, even when I am impossible. Lindsey, Stephen, LeeAnne, Polly, Dee, Beata, Lil' Bro, Daddy, Kay, Nana, Mark, Mike, Poje, my camp boys, the people of my church, at my school, Robin, Cindy, Adam, Jaimon, Amber, Mitzi, and the people in my "hometown" who were so wonderful to spend the time with me... not to mention all the families and loved ones of those people who loved them and supported them and helped them be the wonderful people they are...
Thankful for this beautiful apartment that arrived at the right time and the right price and has been a haven and home for well over three years.
Thankful for my job. The right job and the best place for me right now. Where I can make a difference and people notice if I'm not there... and call me to make sure I am OK.
Thankful for my dogs. Roo who loves me unconditionally, and Piper who loves Nana and plays with Roo.
New friends and new possibilities with older friends. Adam, Prospero, Tweak, Jasmine, Nikol, Marianne, and others...
Thankful for my health and even my body and they way it works and looks. It may not always be what I want, look like I want, but it is the body God gave me and it has served me pretty well when I have taken care of it...
Thankful for Nana and the lessons I learn from her every day. About patience and grace and thankfulness and service.
Thankful for my brother and my father who love me and continue to serve as true examples of Godly men.
Thankful to be a child of God.
Mostly, I am simply grateful.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Thankful for this beautiful apartment that arrived at the right time and the right price and has been a haven and home for well over three years.
Thankful for my job. The right job and the best place for me right now. Where I can make a difference and people notice if I'm not there... and call me to make sure I am OK.
Thankful for my dogs. Roo who loves me unconditionally, and Piper who loves Nana and plays with Roo.
New friends and new possibilities with older friends. Adam, Prospero, Tweak, Jasmine, Nikol, Marianne, and others...
Thankful for my health and even my body and they way it works and looks. It may not always be what I want, look like I want, but it is the body God gave me and it has served me pretty well when I have taken care of it...
Thankful for Nana and the lessons I learn from her every day. About patience and grace and thankfulness and service.
Thankful for my brother and my father who love me and continue to serve as true examples of Godly men.
Thankful to be a child of God.
Mostly, I am simply grateful.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Not Safe
This past weekend was so wonderful. I came home feeling refreshed, excited and energized.
Now I feel violated and humiliated.
Facebook was something I always heard about, but wasn't really part of. Recently I got on it so I could keep track of a lot of the young people in my life and have a place to post pictures.
Someone, who I know through camp, thought it would be funny to post a picture of a whale lying on top of a person and say that it was a picture of me and another friend of mine (male) having sex. Several of my other friends pointed out that this was not really a funny joke and it should be taken down. It's been up nearly a week. The "photographer" has said to several people it's just a joke, all in good fun...
More than anything I am hurt. Not because of the implication that I have a sexual relationship with someone I don't. He and I flirt and are both comfortable with what our relationship is, so what's the point... It's the whale thing.
That is just cruel and unnessesary and it's not funny. Definately not something you do to friends.
Subsequently I have removed them from my friends list and blocked them. There is nothing else I want to talk to them about. Ever. True, they work at camp, but we are in different areas, and I just don't choose to have anything to do with someone who would do something like that, and further refuse to accept rebuke (by others, not even me, I have said nothing) and take it down. Maybe some of us make mistakes, but we correct them or appologize...
Worst, I hate like feeling a kintegartener sitting by myself in the sand box crying.
I went from feeling warm and loved yesterday to feeling unsafe today.
Not good, not fun, not right.
Now I feel violated and humiliated.
Facebook was something I always heard about, but wasn't really part of. Recently I got on it so I could keep track of a lot of the young people in my life and have a place to post pictures.
Someone, who I know through camp, thought it would be funny to post a picture of a whale lying on top of a person and say that it was a picture of me and another friend of mine (male) having sex. Several of my other friends pointed out that this was not really a funny joke and it should be taken down. It's been up nearly a week. The "photographer" has said to several people it's just a joke, all in good fun...
More than anything I am hurt. Not because of the implication that I have a sexual relationship with someone I don't. He and I flirt and are both comfortable with what our relationship is, so what's the point... It's the whale thing.
That is just cruel and unnessesary and it's not funny. Definately not something you do to friends.
Subsequently I have removed them from my friends list and blocked them. There is nothing else I want to talk to them about. Ever. True, they work at camp, but we are in different areas, and I just don't choose to have anything to do with someone who would do something like that, and further refuse to accept rebuke (by others, not even me, I have said nothing) and take it down. Maybe some of us make mistakes, but we correct them or appologize...
Worst, I hate like feeling a kintegartener sitting by myself in the sand box crying.
I went from feeling warm and loved yesterday to feeling unsafe today.
Not good, not fun, not right.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Going Home
There is a definition of home, that I particularly like.
"It's the place that when you have to go there, they have to take you."
This weekend, I went home.
The thing that is so wonderful about this place is that not only do I know it, I knew the streets and noted the familiar and the changes, but that they always take me here. They make me feel loved and wanted and of value.
That's not to say that I don't have those things other places, everyday, where I live my life, but this place, though I have been away, over five years, I am still wanted and welcomed and loved.
It is a safety net, a place of comfort. It is home.
The people that make it up are special and unique and when my heart owns them, I feel I am owned equally by their hearts. That makes them family.
So this weekend, I came home, and tomorrow I will go back to may home, but I will be leaving home to do it.
I miss my home here.
Watching movies and talking, standing in church, Sunday lunch, dinner at Perkins, watching all these children grow up, and the hugs. The hugs especially.
It is a comfort to know that while it changes, life changes, that home is still here.
"It's the place that when you have to go there, they have to take you."
This weekend, I went home.
The thing that is so wonderful about this place is that not only do I know it, I knew the streets and noted the familiar and the changes, but that they always take me here. They make me feel loved and wanted and of value.
That's not to say that I don't have those things other places, everyday, where I live my life, but this place, though I have been away, over five years, I am still wanted and welcomed and loved.
It is a safety net, a place of comfort. It is home.
The people that make it up are special and unique and when my heart owns them, I feel I am owned equally by their hearts. That makes them family.
So this weekend, I came home, and tomorrow I will go back to may home, but I will be leaving home to do it.
I miss my home here.
Watching movies and talking, standing in church, Sunday lunch, dinner at Perkins, watching all these children grow up, and the hugs. The hugs especially.
It is a comfort to know that while it changes, life changes, that home is still here.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Pardon The Digression
If you did not watch Grey's Anatomy tonight this won't make as much sense, but I'm having a moment and I had to put it some place. Bailey was complaining to Shepherd about being the great girl, with the terrific personality that the great guy who was her best friend over looked and took for granted. Probably because she was short, chubby and not as classically beautiful as others. She runs into that guy from high school now and he still treats her the same.
I know that feeling. I remember listening on the phone for hours to countless great guys talk to me about their lives and feelings and girls, helping them with their homework, projects, etc. They never saw me either. Yet I was always so grateful for the crumbs of them I got, desperately hoping that one day they would wake up one day and suddenly somehow, for some reason, see me. They never did. Not to mention that if they had I would have been so scared witless it would have caused my brain to explode (but that's another post and another neurosis...)
Now I do all kinds of things for young men all the time. Thankfully it's a teacher/big sister thing with no romantic delusions on my part. And for all that I love these guys, and have so much faith and hope for their future, I find that there are so many who are still willing to take and take for granted.
Maybe I haven't really learned anything.
Like the show said about how we are all still in high school, acting out the same stories and waiting for the same things that will never happen. Some days it feels that way.
Pardon the Digression.
I know that feeling. I remember listening on the phone for hours to countless great guys talk to me about their lives and feelings and girls, helping them with their homework, projects, etc. They never saw me either. Yet I was always so grateful for the crumbs of them I got, desperately hoping that one day they would wake up one day and suddenly somehow, for some reason, see me. They never did. Not to mention that if they had I would have been so scared witless it would have caused my brain to explode (but that's another post and another neurosis...)
Now I do all kinds of things for young men all the time. Thankfully it's a teacher/big sister thing with no romantic delusions on my part. And for all that I love these guys, and have so much faith and hope for their future, I find that there are so many who are still willing to take and take for granted.
Maybe I haven't really learned anything.
Like the show said about how we are all still in high school, acting out the same stories and waiting for the same things that will never happen. Some days it feels that way.
Pardon the Digression.
Where it is.
Today we did the fit test.
On cardio-vascular I was poor (but it had been a month...)
On flexibility I was average.
On upper body I was poor (And I maxed out at 25% of my body weight)
On abdominal I was good!
We decided that the reason I could not carry the litters at my WEMT class was because with me being so much taller, at the angle I was I was lifting disproportionate to the others. Now the dead lift of someone on my back, that was a real problem. I can dead lift 100lbs, but most people weigh more than that. Many of my younger campers don't which is why I can pick them up... Adults on the other hand...
So now we have five weeks to see what we can accomplish. This is how we will set a pace for next semester. There is a five K here where I live in April. That will be my goal. We'll see what happens. My trainer is moving, so I will go back to the one I had before, but I think that's a good thing. It's time for the change and she and I were at odds all the time anyway.
And that's where it is.
On cardio-vascular I was poor (but it had been a month...)
On flexibility I was average.
On upper body I was poor (And I maxed out at 25% of my body weight)
On abdominal I was good!
We decided that the reason I could not carry the litters at my WEMT class was because with me being so much taller, at the angle I was I was lifting disproportionate to the others. Now the dead lift of someone on my back, that was a real problem. I can dead lift 100lbs, but most people weigh more than that. Many of my younger campers don't which is why I can pick them up... Adults on the other hand...
So now we have five weeks to see what we can accomplish. This is how we will set a pace for next semester. There is a five K here where I live in April. That will be my goal. We'll see what happens. My trainer is moving, so I will go back to the one I had before, but I think that's a good thing. It's time for the change and she and I were at odds all the time anyway.
And that's where it is.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Breaking Rules...
OK, I'm gonna break a rule, but she won't mind and this is hysterical. This is the note Lindsey left for me when I got home today.
Hi Sandy,
The dogs ate 3-5 Luna bars in your room while [Nana and I] were at Bible Study and subsequently threw them up in your room and in the hallway. I cleaned it up as best I could but there are still some visible spots. I put Resolve on the [supply/grocery] list. Anyways, if the dogs are acting funny, that's probably why.
~Lindsey
Did I mention I love this girl! I laughed so hard I nearly wet myself, then I saw the vomit "spots." OMG! These dogs did nothing small today! There are spots everywhere. Thankfully they don't smell like vomit. They smell like, you guessed it, LUNA BARS!!!! Peppermint and Chocolate mostly, but there are some other flavors thrown in there for good measure. I had a stash left over from my trip west for WEMT... Apparently the dogs found it.
I knew they were smart.
The carpet may never be the same.
Hi Sandy,
The dogs ate 3-5 Luna bars in your room while [Nana and I] were at Bible Study and subsequently threw them up in your room and in the hallway. I cleaned it up as best I could but there are still some visible spots. I put Resolve on the [supply/grocery] list. Anyways, if the dogs are acting funny, that's probably why.
~Lindsey
Did I mention I love this girl! I laughed so hard I nearly wet myself, then I saw the vomit "spots." OMG! These dogs did nothing small today! There are spots everywhere. Thankfully they don't smell like vomit. They smell like, you guessed it, LUNA BARS!!!! Peppermint and Chocolate mostly, but there are some other flavors thrown in there for good measure. I had a stash left over from my trip west for WEMT... Apparently the dogs found it.
I knew they were smart.
The carpet may never be the same.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Huh?
Today I covered another teacher's class for forty five minutes. One student began to complain about another students studying habits. They were quick reviewing for a test. The complaining student had moved to the place where the oddly studying student was sitting. I looked at the little whiner and said,
"Your feet nailed to the floor?"
He answered,
"Huh?" Then he looked at his feet.
Another student looked up at him and said,
"She really is a teacher. She won't give you the answer straight, she makes you work for it."
The kid sat there for another moment and then said, loudly...
"Oh! I can totally just move!"
Ya think?
"Your feet nailed to the floor?"
He answered,
"Huh?" Then he looked at his feet.
Another student looked up at him and said,
"She really is a teacher. She won't give you the answer straight, she makes you work for it."
The kid sat there for another moment and then said, loudly...
"Oh! I can totally just move!"
Ya think?
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Chess Queen
There has been so much lately, it seems, and in a lot of ways very little.
I think of the chess queen in "Through the Looking Glass" running as fast as she can just to stay in one place. Some days I feel like her. Except she seemed to accept that reality and so often I am fighting it. Somehow I doubt that I am that much busier than anyone else, I am just more vocal about it, or more noticeable.
Mostly I think it is that I am noticing more. More importantly I am participating more in my own life, I think. There is so much that I am no longer willing to accept.
As the next part of my counseling we are looking at all the traumatic events (over 50 of them) and isolating what those incidents taught me in terms of survival skills and how I dealt with the world. Honestly I thought just having to write the incidents themselves down was hard.
This is terrifying. It doesn't paint a pretty picture. The first time my mother hit me was because I wanted to play with a boy and she said he was dangerous. The fear of men that was instilled in that moment has been disastrous. How ironic that my mother is now completely frustrated by my lack of romantic prowess... Yet, these behaviors, choices are still my responsibility. I will not be like my mother and spend my life avoiding responsibility for my choices, blaming others for my lack of fortune... She may be the reason, but I will not give her the power that blaming her would.
So many of the people I care about are moving on in their lives. They are getting married, having children, going to do long term missions and I sit in this home, hiding behind Nana and words like care-giver stress to excuse the things I have not done.
The era of running as fast as I can to stay in place is ending...
It's time to kick it into overdrive and go somewhere.
I think of the chess queen in "Through the Looking Glass" running as fast as she can just to stay in one place. Some days I feel like her. Except she seemed to accept that reality and so often I am fighting it. Somehow I doubt that I am that much busier than anyone else, I am just more vocal about it, or more noticeable.
Mostly I think it is that I am noticing more. More importantly I am participating more in my own life, I think. There is so much that I am no longer willing to accept.
As the next part of my counseling we are looking at all the traumatic events (over 50 of them) and isolating what those incidents taught me in terms of survival skills and how I dealt with the world. Honestly I thought just having to write the incidents themselves down was hard.
This is terrifying. It doesn't paint a pretty picture. The first time my mother hit me was because I wanted to play with a boy and she said he was dangerous. The fear of men that was instilled in that moment has been disastrous. How ironic that my mother is now completely frustrated by my lack of romantic prowess... Yet, these behaviors, choices are still my responsibility. I will not be like my mother and spend my life avoiding responsibility for my choices, blaming others for my lack of fortune... She may be the reason, but I will not give her the power that blaming her would.
So many of the people I care about are moving on in their lives. They are getting married, having children, going to do long term missions and I sit in this home, hiding behind Nana and words like care-giver stress to excuse the things I have not done.
The era of running as fast as I can to stay in place is ending...
It's time to kick it into overdrive and go somewhere.
Finished
The children of our church had their musical program this morning. I was so proud of them and they did a great job. The church presented me with flowers and I appreciated the gesture. Really.
But I told the choir director today that I was finished. At least for the time being. I needed the time for me, to do Shakespeare, to take a break, to breathe, to think. I told the youth pastor the same thing.
So now that I am not doing a project and as far as church goes, in between projects, I feel a tremendous sense of relief.
Today, I am finished.
But I told the choir director today that I was finished. At least for the time being. I needed the time for me, to do Shakespeare, to take a break, to breathe, to think. I told the youth pastor the same thing.
So now that I am not doing a project and as far as church goes, in between projects, I feel a tremendous sense of relief.
Today, I am finished.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
One Down
A long time ago, when I was a girl, in college, some of the girls and I decided to have a girls night. The guys in our lives (well the other girls' lives, there were no guys for me then either) decided two could play at that game and had a guys night. US girls watched movies, giggled, hung out, all good. The boys played video games and plotted to roll our cars.
The showed up and rolled our cars, put Vaseline under the door handles, stuck oreos to the windows and put flowers on the hoods. The night guard caught them and chased them into the next housing area. One poor guy was running so fast he didn't realize he was over a pool until he had fallen in it.
The boys as a group refused to admit they had anything to do with what happened. However, as individuals, alone with their girlfriends, they went down squealing like stuck hogs. So we compiled a list of culprits.
Then several of the girls and I created a four woman revenge squad. We slowly and systematically hit the car (and bike in one case) of the gentleman who had rolled us. The boys began to live in fear. We labeled each vehicle "X Down and X to go."
As of this evening, there is one mouse down, and at least one more to go... Though I have to say I got more satisfaction out of wrapping toilet paper around some poor guys car then killing a mouse.
The showed up and rolled our cars, put Vaseline under the door handles, stuck oreos to the windows and put flowers on the hoods. The night guard caught them and chased them into the next housing area. One poor guy was running so fast he didn't realize he was over a pool until he had fallen in it.
The boys as a group refused to admit they had anything to do with what happened. However, as individuals, alone with their girlfriends, they went down squealing like stuck hogs. So we compiled a list of culprits.
Then several of the girls and I created a four woman revenge squad. We slowly and systematically hit the car (and bike in one case) of the gentleman who had rolled us. The boys began to live in fear. We labeled each vehicle "X Down and X to go."
As of this evening, there is one mouse down, and at least one more to go... Though I have to say I got more satisfaction out of wrapping toilet paper around some poor guys car then killing a mouse.
It's a zoo!
Two mice who refuse to be caught or die and
(drum roll please)
A Molting gecko lizard!
I live in a zoo!
I just bought out Publix entire store of traps... humane and otherwise...
This is war!
(drum roll please)
A Molting gecko lizard!
I live in a zoo!
I just bought out Publix entire store of traps... humane and otherwise...
This is war!
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