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.
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