Epiphany
There are many things that we all struggle with - life is not something that passes without internal debate. The vast majority of the planet can discuss what they feel could be going better in their lives. Even celebrities point out flaws they can not stand - areas of need or improvement. I have taken pains here to explain something that I have struggled with in my life...........
I am pretty proficient at being charmingly self-deprecating while being acknowledged for public victories. It is something that I have cultivated meticulously during my adult life. I am known for having interview skills that were spot on and impressive. I will claim here, without shame, that I covet being considered each year for the title of Chieftess (the student elected award of Most Spirited Teacher). That I am among the finalists each year is a matter of pride for me. That I was voted Chieftess last year is the best award I have ever received, without question. That Stephanie Bohler received the award this year is lovely to me too, because she spent the time with students to earn it and because she and I share much of the same philosophy and attitude towards students. She seemed worried that she "took" it from me, but I was happy that someone who loves kids in the same way I do was the one who earned the award this year.
This leads me towards my epiphany...but first my confession. I have spent all of my life feeling less than worthy. Let me say that again, because I don't ever say it.... I have spent all of my life feeling less than worthy. When I was young, I watched the movie "Amadeus." Salieri (sp?) acknowledges at the end of the movie that in being second to Mozart, he was "the King of the Mediocres." That was how I thought of myself in high school - the Queen of the Mediocres.
What I have learned as an adult is that it is a chemical/biological part of me. There is no one in my past or current life that has created that for me. It is what it is....Period...I have been blessed with a therapist, and with several people (most notably my husband) who calmly provide me with the "right" sentiments when I need them. Sometimes I shamefully ask for it.........
But I have been mostly struggling with the relationships in which I have not followed through and maintained over the years. Recently (the last 10 years) I have carried enormous guilt over my relationship with my sisters, and (over the last 2 years) my friends. I have spent many personal hours trying to figure out why I avoid contact with my sisters, and then eventually my friends. It's not anything my sisters have done - other than starting their lives when I was still at home as a student - they just began their lives when it was normal for them to do so, but I was not yet formulating adult relationships...And it's not that my friends have disappeared - but they have moved upwards in their careers and live in Alaska, where they are busy and more successful than I am in education.
But what does it all come down to? I seem to play a scenario in my complicated head.............. Whenever there are areas that I feel successful in (teaching and parenting) then I feel an obligation to fail or be lower in an area that is different. I can't accept a reward without finding a different aspect of my life that fails. When there are areas of my life that I could stop and take care of; I assume that the conversation with that person will go badly because I waited so long. There, in my mind, has to be a sacrifice to the success. I am clearly not a convincingly good person...so therefore must be an area of disaster for every area of success. When I begin to make successful relationships at work, a personal relationship must be sacrificed - because I am not a good enough person to handle it all. It's not a conscious trade-off (although now I am more aware).
I love my sisters. I grew up very differently than they did, in my eyes. I can't ever achieve what my sisters achieve - even when, on paper and in other's eyes, I achieve what is similar. I am always the divorced, tatooted, internet sister. The one who was viewed as spoiled, but was instead protected and betrayed by the experienced in my life.
I do not know how I will reconcile all of this. I know that I am very appreciative of the people who gently monitor the Bullshit Meter and love me anyway :)
Thanks, and I love you
06 April 2008
17 February 2008
On Marriage
I have now been married for eight wonderful years to a man I admire and respect and for whom I feel great passion. We have been together for almost ten years, when you count that painful yet giddy time we worked out a life together from 3000 miles apart. Neither of us had been in a relationship for longer than a few years - our relationship was breaking new ground in so many ways.
We are different from each other in many facets of life, and yet we have so much in common. We both devour books in whole huge chunks of knowledge, yet I love novels and poetry and he loves non-fiction and logic. We both love sports, yet I love only team sports and he loves wrestling and fighting too. We both love teaching, yet I love the nurturing play of words and humor and he loves imparting knowledge to open minds so that they can have control over their future and elevate their lives.
We say "I love you" everyday, without question (although some days when the world is harsh I ask him to promise and he always does, gently). We detest fights and tension. We are careful with each other everyday, and if we tread too harshly on each other's feelings we apologize and mean it. We are a relationship worth 200% -each giving 100%. And if he can not give 100%, I will step up and give extra until he can give 100% again. I unequivocally trust that he will. I believe the same is true for him.
I read recently about another marriage. The author was exploring the definition of desire. "What we have lived in marriage, of course, is what countless people have lived: the realization that in giving, in truly loving, we actually stop wanting. In desire, we go from a place of need and try to satisfy ourselves; in loving, we leave our own needs behind and paradoxically find them met." The desire to remain married to this man and trust him with the rest of my life is not something with which I struggle or question. I just know.
We are different from each other in many facets of life, and yet we have so much in common. We both devour books in whole huge chunks of knowledge, yet I love novels and poetry and he loves non-fiction and logic. We both love sports, yet I love only team sports and he loves wrestling and fighting too. We both love teaching, yet I love the nurturing play of words and humor and he loves imparting knowledge to open minds so that they can have control over their future and elevate their lives.
We say "I love you" everyday, without question (although some days when the world is harsh I ask him to promise and he always does, gently). We detest fights and tension. We are careful with each other everyday, and if we tread too harshly on each other's feelings we apologize and mean it. We are a relationship worth 200% -each giving 100%. And if he can not give 100%, I will step up and give extra until he can give 100% again. I unequivocally trust that he will. I believe the same is true for him.
I read recently about another marriage. The author was exploring the definition of desire. "What we have lived in marriage, of course, is what countless people have lived: the realization that in giving, in truly loving, we actually stop wanting. In desire, we go from a place of need and try to satisfy ourselves; in loving, we leave our own needs behind and paradoxically find them met." The desire to remain married to this man and trust him with the rest of my life is not something with which I struggle or question. I just know.
18 November 2007
Lean Into Light and Live ~
I've talked with many of you lately about life...
Bad choices -
Choices being made for you -
Endings with tears -
Endings with anger -
Restless feet -
Restless hearts -
Uncertainty -
All of you whirling around each other -
Pretending because it's easier than revealing what's in your head...heart -
Pretending because it's better than openly falling apart ~
Take care of each other...
Take care of yourselves...
And sometimes it's OK to let down your guard and let others care for you...
Like Me.....And Roethke
"Fourth Meditation" by Theodore Roethke
I was always one for being alone,
Seeking in my own way, eternal purpose;
At the edge of the field waiting for the pure moment;
Standing, silent, on sandy beaches or walking along green embankments;
Knowing the sinuousness of small waters:
As a chip or shell, floating lazily with a slow current.
Was it yesterday I stretched out the thin bones of my innocence?
O the songs we hide, singing only to ourselves!
Once I could touch my shadow, and be happy;
In the white kingdoms, I was light as a seed,
Drifting with the blossoms,
A pensive petal.
I think of the self-involved:
The ritualists of the mirror, the lonely drinkers,
The minions of benzedrine and paraldehyde,
And those who submerge themselves deliberately in trivia...
What do they need?
O more than a roaring boy,
For the sleek captains of intuition cannot reach them;
They feel neither the tearing iron
Nor the sound of another footstep--
How I wish them awake!
May the high flower of the hay climb into their hearts;
May they lean into light and live;
May they sleep in robes of green, among the ancient ferns...
May the sun gild them a worm;
May they be taken by the true burning;
May they flame into being!-....
Bad choices -
Choices being made for you -
Endings with tears -
Endings with anger -
Restless feet -
Restless hearts -
Uncertainty -
All of you whirling around each other -
Pretending because it's easier than revealing what's in your head...heart -
Pretending because it's better than openly falling apart ~
Take care of each other...
Take care of yourselves...
And sometimes it's OK to let down your guard and let others care for you...
Like Me.....And Roethke
"Fourth Meditation" by Theodore Roethke
I was always one for being alone,
Seeking in my own way, eternal purpose;
At the edge of the field waiting for the pure moment;
Standing, silent, on sandy beaches or walking along green embankments;
Knowing the sinuousness of small waters:
As a chip or shell, floating lazily with a slow current.
Was it yesterday I stretched out the thin bones of my innocence?
O the songs we hide, singing only to ourselves!
Once I could touch my shadow, and be happy;
In the white kingdoms, I was light as a seed,
Drifting with the blossoms,
A pensive petal.
I think of the self-involved:
The ritualists of the mirror, the lonely drinkers,
The minions of benzedrine and paraldehyde,
And those who submerge themselves deliberately in trivia...
What do they need?
O more than a roaring boy,
For the sleek captains of intuition cannot reach them;
They feel neither the tearing iron
Nor the sound of another footstep--
How I wish them awake!
May the high flower of the hay climb into their hearts;
May they lean into light and live;
May they sleep in robes of green, among the ancient ferns...
May the sun gild them a worm;
May they be taken by the true burning;
May they flame into being!-....
27 May 2007
Compassion Fatigue
My husband and I are both high school teachers. He teaches Keyboarding/Office Systems and Accounting. I teach English. We spend most of our commute letting (mostly) go of student issues. We carry those confrontations longer than most would think. Did we handle it the clearest way possible? Are we justified in being angry at the child in question? Is it as bizarre as we initially thought, that the child overreacted in that situation? When we have a parent send a juicy rationalization our way, are we justified in being bemused and entertained?
I understand the concern generated from rants about how we should not wish destruction upon our students even when they are less than cooperative. But here’s why we rant on blogs: We cannot rant to students or parents without risking censure. I have had students tell me what a horrible teacher they think I am and that my class is stupid. Yet I cannot tell them, in anger or otherwise, what I think of them – because it wouldn’t be helpful or professional. I have had parents use profanity-laced excuses why their darling angel only threw a chair across the room because I did not give their child my full attention at the expense of the other 35 students in class.
When we went open-eyed and admittedly idealistic into education, we did so thinking that we would teach mostly students who behaved the way we behaved in high school. But in high school in 1984, there were no cell phones or MP3 players or online grades or frequent threats of lawsuit or parents informing the school that their darling child has “intrusive impulsive disorder” – which doesn’t exist, although the student in question behaves as if it did exist and she was the poster child. We thought we would become teachers to inspire students to become life-long learners. I thought I would create poets, and novelists, and normal people who had a heightened sense of the power of words. My husband was going to give his students the knowledge that we didn't access as kids - personal finance, computer skills, and the time-saving efficient uses of computers.
So we have 180 students on the first day of school, and we find out quickly that every class has several loud, vocal students who you love to death but find no value in your class. Most students aren't malicious - a few are - but most don't realize that their behavior may be funny to their peers, but it makes my job harder everyday. Endless bathroom passes - spending more time avoiding work than it would take to complete the assignment in the first place.
So forgive us the moments where we vent our frustration and rage – we do so in the blogosphere so we don’t vent on top of our students heads…
The rants in question, even the violent ones, are nothing more than a manifestation of my own pseudo-invented disorder – Compassion Fatigue.
I understand the concern generated from rants about how we should not wish destruction upon our students even when they are less than cooperative. But here’s why we rant on blogs: We cannot rant to students or parents without risking censure. I have had students tell me what a horrible teacher they think I am and that my class is stupid. Yet I cannot tell them, in anger or otherwise, what I think of them – because it wouldn’t be helpful or professional. I have had parents use profanity-laced excuses why their darling angel only threw a chair across the room because I did not give their child my full attention at the expense of the other 35 students in class.
When we went open-eyed and admittedly idealistic into education, we did so thinking that we would teach mostly students who behaved the way we behaved in high school. But in high school in 1984, there were no cell phones or MP3 players or online grades or frequent threats of lawsuit or parents informing the school that their darling child has “intrusive impulsive disorder” – which doesn’t exist, although the student in question behaves as if it did exist and she was the poster child. We thought we would become teachers to inspire students to become life-long learners. I thought I would create poets, and novelists, and normal people who had a heightened sense of the power of words. My husband was going to give his students the knowledge that we didn't access as kids - personal finance, computer skills, and the time-saving efficient uses of computers.
So we have 180 students on the first day of school, and we find out quickly that every class has several loud, vocal students who you love to death but find no value in your class. Most students aren't malicious - a few are - but most don't realize that their behavior may be funny to their peers, but it makes my job harder everyday. Endless bathroom passes - spending more time avoiding work than it would take to complete the assignment in the first place.
So forgive us the moments where we vent our frustration and rage – we do so in the blogosphere so we don’t vent on top of our students heads…
The rants in question, even the violent ones, are nothing more than a manifestation of my own pseudo-invented disorder – Compassion Fatigue.
Long Weekend Musings
It has been an interesting month. There is nothing like the end of the school year to find out if your students have souls. Of course they do, but many times I have to remind students that if I ask them to be quiet so I can talk - they think that means continue the conversation with their friends with a quieter voice, because they are special and the rules are for those uninteresting classmates of theirs.
I remember the beast. I sat in Economics in my junior year and didn't shut up for the entire semester (my former econ. teacher shared this little tidbit with me when I started teaching). I was the Queen of the Note. I probably knew I was going to be a writing teacher from the amount of effort in notes to friends in lieu of paying attention in class.
However, I think I understand the beast in and can inuit why my students are hurt by that lack of attention. I'm sure I was also the Queen of the Stupid Question. When a teacher answers a question and someone pretending to pay attention then asks the same question - that is a stupid question.
Sigh...we are not without understanding of the beast that is the high school student. But we understand because we were once there; and that doesn't mean that it's not a huge pain in the posterior to be a teacher in the same situation...
There's some weird sociological theory afloat where we think that now, in 2007, we can break the cycle of noise, the cycle of avoidance in class...
And it hurts our little feelers too.....so be gentle with our overworked souls...and we'll be understanding with your social little souls as well...
Win Win
I remember the beast. I sat in Economics in my junior year and didn't shut up for the entire semester (my former econ. teacher shared this little tidbit with me when I started teaching). I was the Queen of the Note. I probably knew I was going to be a writing teacher from the amount of effort in notes to friends in lieu of paying attention in class.
However, I think I understand the beast in and can inuit why my students are hurt by that lack of attention. I'm sure I was also the Queen of the Stupid Question. When a teacher answers a question and someone pretending to pay attention then asks the same question - that is a stupid question.
Sigh...we are not without understanding of the beast that is the high school student. But we understand because we were once there; and that doesn't mean that it's not a huge pain in the posterior to be a teacher in the same situation...
There's some weird sociological theory afloat where we think that now, in 2007, we can break the cycle of noise, the cycle of avoidance in class...
And it hurts our little feelers too.....so be gentle with our overworked souls...and we'll be understanding with your social little souls as well...
Win Win
Primal Naked Forms of Flowers
Wordsworth once said that poetry is the "spontaneous overflow of powerful feeling," which should not adversely affect anyone approached with poetry. Because we all have strong feelings about life and powerful feelings about everything, the thought that I get from my students that poetry is "annoying" and "stupid" is telling me as a teacher that most people don't understand poetry and so they are dismissive.
When I share oustanding poems like "Two in the Campagna" by Robert Browning and "Song" by W.H. Auden - my students engage in the discussion about melancholy and the finite nature of humans - even if love is characterized as infinite. They giggle when I emphasize such bodice-ripping lines as "such primal naked forms of flowers, /such letting nature have it's way, /while heaven looks from it's towers!" But it's not the passion, it is the realization that their teacher just said "naked."
Billy Collins has been my main inspiration for poetry in the classroom through his Poetry 180 project through the Library of Congress and Collins' work as the former Poet Laureate of the United States. He understands that there is poetry out there that will inspire teenagers - with language that is theirs.
I am drained, being late May, having worked very hard to teach the beauty of poetry...I am certainly not feeling poetic as you read this blog...my joy in the play of language has chilled today but will be refreshed - someday.
There will be more in the future...please help me out by sending links to poems you enjoy that aren't the "dead white guys in tights" and will speak to the high school student in doubt....
Thanks and onward.
When I share oustanding poems like "Two in the Campagna" by Robert Browning and "Song" by W.H. Auden - my students engage in the discussion about melancholy and the finite nature of humans - even if love is characterized as infinite. They giggle when I emphasize such bodice-ripping lines as "such primal naked forms of flowers, /such letting nature have it's way, /while heaven looks from it's towers!" But it's not the passion, it is the realization that their teacher just said "naked."
Billy Collins has been my main inspiration for poetry in the classroom through his Poetry 180 project through the Library of Congress and Collins' work as the former Poet Laureate of the United States. He understands that there is poetry out there that will inspire teenagers - with language that is theirs.
I am drained, being late May, having worked very hard to teach the beauty of poetry...I am certainly not feeling poetic as you read this blog...my joy in the play of language has chilled today but will be refreshed - someday.
There will be more in the future...please help me out by sending links to poems you enjoy that aren't the "dead white guys in tights" and will speak to the high school student in doubt....
Thanks and onward.
On Parrots, Rhubarb, and Washers That Email
A truly interesting April day, full of so many little miracles.
My family ventured forth for Bobcat Day. The University of California, Merced held it's (maybe) third open house ever. The school has only been in existence for a few years - last year's graduating class totalled three students. The school didn't exist until 2005 or so, and will expand a little at a time until it is the biggest UC in the California system. So to drive on campus is a little underwhelming at first - so few buildings in the middle of San Joaquin Valley farmland.
Yet it is a state of the art campus - wireless ready throughout. Every chair, table and couch in every meeting place has a decoratively hidden power outlet for your laptop. The library has laptops with the newest tablet technology and software avaliable for free check-out for four hours at a time. Classrooms have computer stations for all students. The washers and dryers in the laudromat have the capability to email or text you when your laundry is done, so you don't have to wait around for your undies to dry!
And...it's environmentally friendly too. In an effort to save all the paper that flyers and ads are printed on - the university has strategically placed TV screens around campus that display all of the ads and meeting notices and commercial issues that normally litter a campus with paper flyers. The heating and cooling for the entire campus is through heated or cooled water flowing through pipes to heat and cool rooms. Building materials are made partially from recycled paper and plastic. The lobby of the library has a cafe. It also has three sections of it's floor to ceiling windows that are set up like garage doors. When it gets hot inside and pleasant outside (lovely Cali), they just open the garage door windows and the area is transformed into an outdoor cafe. There is a small shuttle that will pick up students from Merced apartment complexes - reducing all student's need for having a car at all.
So we drive home from this experience, and arrive at our little, old house - far from state of the art, more like state of the old and cluttered. A little let-down, yet familiar...I decide to head to the store for treats. As I walk outside, I hear an odd bird squawk...I look up and there's a parrot in my cottonwood tree. I had heard from a neighbor that one was loose, but no one knew who it belonged to. So I did what most people do when faced with parrots and no experience - I put out my hand and said "pretty bird!" And lo and behold, it flew down and landed on my shoulder! And by the way, when one of these parrots screech in your ear from your shoulder - it hurts! So long story - my neighbor came out and miraculously has a sister who takes in lost birds - so our parrot friend is on the way to meeting other lost friends.
Which leads to odd miracle number three - I went to the store after the bird was saved. When I walked through the produce section, there miraculously was...wait for it......Rhubarb! Not much of a revelation for most - but I grew up growing rhubarb in our garden - many a summer night eating rhubarb-strawberry pie or rhubarb-raspberry-strawberry mush over vanilla ice cream. I can't ever find it in the local stores - and tonight when I wasn't looking for it - there it was in abundance...
Such an ordinary day in the eyes of many - but that's what makes life interesting - that miracles exist in the eyes of the beholder. What is miraculous and unique to me, isn't even noticeable to most other people on the planet.
My family ventured forth for Bobcat Day. The University of California, Merced held it's (maybe) third open house ever. The school has only been in existence for a few years - last year's graduating class totalled three students. The school didn't exist until 2005 or so, and will expand a little at a time until it is the biggest UC in the California system. So to drive on campus is a little underwhelming at first - so few buildings in the middle of San Joaquin Valley farmland.
Yet it is a state of the art campus - wireless ready throughout. Every chair, table and couch in every meeting place has a decoratively hidden power outlet for your laptop. The library has laptops with the newest tablet technology and software avaliable for free check-out for four hours at a time. Classrooms have computer stations for all students. The washers and dryers in the laudromat have the capability to email or text you when your laundry is done, so you don't have to wait around for your undies to dry!
And...it's environmentally friendly too. In an effort to save all the paper that flyers and ads are printed on - the university has strategically placed TV screens around campus that display all of the ads and meeting notices and commercial issues that normally litter a campus with paper flyers. The heating and cooling for the entire campus is through heated or cooled water flowing through pipes to heat and cool rooms. Building materials are made partially from recycled paper and plastic. The lobby of the library has a cafe. It also has three sections of it's floor to ceiling windows that are set up like garage doors. When it gets hot inside and pleasant outside (lovely Cali), they just open the garage door windows and the area is transformed into an outdoor cafe. There is a small shuttle that will pick up students from Merced apartment complexes - reducing all student's need for having a car at all.
So we drive home from this experience, and arrive at our little, old house - far from state of the art, more like state of the old and cluttered. A little let-down, yet familiar...I decide to head to the store for treats. As I walk outside, I hear an odd bird squawk...I look up and there's a parrot in my cottonwood tree. I had heard from a neighbor that one was loose, but no one knew who it belonged to. So I did what most people do when faced with parrots and no experience - I put out my hand and said "pretty bird!" And lo and behold, it flew down and landed on my shoulder! And by the way, when one of these parrots screech in your ear from your shoulder - it hurts! So long story - my neighbor came out and miraculously has a sister who takes in lost birds - so our parrot friend is on the way to meeting other lost friends.
Which leads to odd miracle number three - I went to the store after the bird was saved. When I walked through the produce section, there miraculously was...wait for it......Rhubarb! Not much of a revelation for most - but I grew up growing rhubarb in our garden - many a summer night eating rhubarb-strawberry pie or rhubarb-raspberry-strawberry mush over vanilla ice cream. I can't ever find it in the local stores - and tonight when I wasn't looking for it - there it was in abundance...
Such an ordinary day in the eyes of many - but that's what makes life interesting - that miracles exist in the eyes of the beholder. What is miraculous and unique to me, isn't even noticeable to most other people on the planet.
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