'Ella Enchanted' and 'Fairest' by Gail Carson Levine

by Burdge-bug

And from 'Fairest':

"Who judges the judge who judges wrong?"

"Voices and faces aren't manifestations of good or bad."

edit :: 1 April 2014

From 'Fairest', pg. 35

"And I expect you to wear both skirt and underskirt," the duchess had said. "I won't have you scantily clad."   Scantily! It would take a carpenter a month to drill through the skirts to find my legs. 

Blessed Assurance

i decided to record my singing for you- it's not perfect and i was interrupted a couple times, but i thought it would be humorous than something "perfect" and "put together".

here are the lyrics, 

blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! 

O what a foretaste of glory divine!

heir of salvation, purchase of God,

born of his spirit, washed in his blood.

this is my story,

this is my song,

praising my savior all the day long! (x2)

perfect submission, perfect delight! 

visions of rapture now burst on my sight; 

angels descending bring from above

echoes of mercy, whispers of love.

this is my story,

this is my song,

praising my savior all the day long! (x2)

perfect submission, all is at rest,

i in my savior am happy and blest;

watching and waiting,

looking above,

filled with his goodness, washed in his love. 

this is my story,

this is my song,

praising my savior all the day long! (x2)

Friendly Neighborhood Diagramming

First of two things: I diagrammed a sentence, Matthew 5.16 to be exact [: Wan'a see it?

I don't know that I put the word -that- in the right place, hence the floating question mark, but I figured the word -that- functioned the same as a conjunction (and, but, or). Although I guess technically -that- has an implied -so- so that is a conjunctive adverb... Right?




Second of two things: Who is my neighbor?

I am more familiar with the New Testament than with the Old Testament, I'm sure there are a bajillion reasons why that is, but for now, none of those will be expressly discussed. For now, I want to point something out.

Jeremiah 11.13,14 reads (originally formatted as poetry), "Woe to him who builds his house by unrighteousness, and his upper rooms bu injustice, who makes his neighbor serve him for nothing and does not give him his wages, (14) who says 'I will build myself a great house with spacious upper rooms.' who cuts out windows for it, paneling it with cedar and painting it with vermilion. ..." (ESV)

Now, there are hundreds of other references I could pull out that contain the word 'neighbor' (and that's just in the ESV) but I'll just reference the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10.25-37; ESV) which follows the question and answer:

"What is the greatest commandment? What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" / "You shall love the Lord you God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself." / "And who is my neighbor?"

A man falls among robbers and is beaten to death. A priest, and a Levite walk by (men who are supposed to practice the greatest commandment), and a Samaritan (half blood/half caste) helps the man.

"Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among robbers?" / "The one who showed him mercy."

 Therefore, woe to him...who makes his neighbor serve him for nothing... Neighbors aren't just next door, across the street, or in the same town- the parable does not say that the priest, the Levite, and the victim, and the Samaritan (who probably lived in Samaria anyway, a place the priest and the Levite would've otherwise avoided) lived near each other when they weren't traveling. The parable purposefully chooses four men who are traveling, likely to come across anyone: friend or stranger.

"And Jesus said to him, 'You go, and do likewise." 

Good Readers

The following isn't really about teaching, but I would be remiss if I as an English teacher didn't at least once talk about reading.

Lately, I have been daydreaming about opening a tutoring center. Just me. In a house down the street and to the right. It's blue. I was thinking about teaching kids how to read properly. I don't mean how to read properly, like, "See Spot run." No, no, no, I mean, like translate Shakespeare and Tolstoy, and understand their context. But then, I don't know that parents would want to pay me just to let their kids read in cozy corners, they can do that at a library. But they don't. It's just, you know, parents sometimes already pay the stores in the mall for their kids so why should paying me to teach their kids to read a bad way to spend your money.

Because reading isn't passive. Reading consumes (or should consume) a person's entire being.

Reading won't develop your biceps any time soon (unless you're bench-pressing encyclopedias), please don't expect them to, but the ability to read well doesn't mean you can read 950 words a minute, or can discover the solution 30 pages before; the ability to read well, however, does mean that no matter what you read you allow yourself to be challenged by its theories, themes, conclusions, insights; etc.

Good readers appreciate a good plot, but crave a challenge, a statement, a purpose that requires more than me just turning the page. Good readers don't just want to find out what's next, they want to participate in what happens next for more than just experience, but for empathy. In books they may come across ogres, but in real life they'll be prepared to meet bullies.

Of course, all this has been said, but I should like to keep saying it: read, and read well.




Here's the teaching (-ish) bit!

Though I enjoy teaching English grammar (some phonetics), and literature, sometimes I feel those things futile when I don't have enough time to tell my students to use the tools I give them to read well because, I'll just be honest, having the tools to write and read well is very different from actually using those tools. Sure, I want them to know the difference between a question and a statement; sarcasm versus sincerity; a noun and an adverb; passive and active voice,, but if only there were an explicit, easy way to connect the two seemingly separate things.

Why should they be separate?! Working out is a vital part of any sports game, right? So why isn't the homework and in-class assignment I assign a vital part? Oh, that's right...because our educational system is more screwy than helpful. Man, I really need to learn how to make the system work for me.

i regret that i did not see [...]

i should have been a time traveler
to visit Ancient Egypt and Rome;
to dance with Cleopatra;
ridden dust storms under the Arabian sun.

i should have been a time traveler
to hunt woolly mammoths with Neanderthals;
to cover my mouth from the Black Plague;
to march with my ancestors against the colonizing brigades.

i should have been a time traveler
to build the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower,
then climb their unguarded rails without gear;
to hang from their pointed tops alone.

i should have been a time traveler
to ease Christ's pain, and van Gogh's, too.
but the former received redemption for his solitary sacrifice;
the latter chased after wispy, proper winds:
worried and irredeemable;
loving, but inconsolable.

i should have been a time traveler
to watch people meet and collide;
secretly, to help them along- a little push toward, or strong tug away.

i should have been a time traveler,
then i'd expect every cause from its every action.

i should have been a time traveler.

i should have been a time traveler
if only to erase my worst mistakes.

Tears Without Heart

Dear God,
   When was the last time you humbled me? I have no immediate recollection. Should I be worried because that means you're going to humble me soon? I don't know if I should ask for it or not. Even if my request were incredibly specific I should not like to ask wrongly, or let you work its loophole(s).
   Still...
   Please reveal to me the sins I unknowingly commit. I haven't arrived; of course I'm doing something wrong that requires all my attention (or at least most).
   I'm sorry that I sound too guarded and collected, but I don't always have the heart to weep. Besides, I always cry unexpectedly--I suppose that's true vulnerability: unplanned, unscheduled. Apparently, I'm not as vulnerable as I thought I am. Should I-?
   Help me be vulnerable. The walls I build between myself and the world are shoddy anyway; they try too hard to replace you. How do you do it? How are you strong enough to hold back the flood waters, but are willing to let me fight on the front lines? The former, so that I don't die (haha); the latter, that I might not cower.
   I know I already do very little, but thanks for sticking by me, anyway. And I know it'll never happen, but I'd like to strive to deserve you now that I have you...you have me? Whatever, it's a mutual belonging. You're all I've got, though I'm heartless and stubborn. Hell, you even gave me people on this side of heaven who love me. Thank you.
   Love you.

The call of Christ is always a promotion. -A.W. Tozer

i like circles.

'The Battle of the Labyrinth'; 'Americanah'

I'm a new Percy Jackson fan- I cannot get enough of this kid, he just makes me laugh and laugh and laugh.

If you've never been charged by an enthusiastic Cyclops wearing a flowered apron and rubber cleaning gloves, I'm telling you, it'll wake you up quick. (pg. 34)

Seriously, cannot get enough, and then there's Americanah:

Dike called out from the bathroom, where he had been sent to brush his teeth before bed. / "Dike, I mechago?" Ifemelu asked. "/ "Please don't speak Igbo to him," Aunty Uju said. "Two languages will confuse him." / "What are you talking about, Aunty? We spoke two languages growing up." / "This is America. It's different."  

not singing yet.

one day, i'll get around to singing you songs instead of posting the lyrics.

amazing grace, how sweet the sound 

that saved a wretch like me.

i once was lost, but now am found;

was blind, but now, i see. 

'twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

and grace my fears relieved.

how precious did that grace appear

the hour i first believed.

when we've been there ten thousand years,

bright shining as the sun,

we've no less days to sing God's praise

than when we'd first begun 

the world shall soon dissolved like snow

the sun forbear to shine,

but God who called me here below

will be forever mine

i thought it incredibly appropriate that the first worship song i would share with you is this hymn by John Newton, an ex-slave trader. even if you've never been to church, everyone knows this song, but i'll finish it off with a chorus from Hillsong's latest: Oceans (Where Feet May Fail), one with no less worship than it's predecessor.

Spirit, lead me when my trust is without border, 

let me walk upon the water

wherever you would call me.

and take me deeper than my feet could ever wander;

where my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior.

Implant

Note: I hadn't intended for my Saturday Bible verses to have any more words than the selected Bible verse, but this time, I can't help it. I have to add my commentary.

----

This morning I decided to read James because we (in my Bible study) are about to start studying James. I've read James before; it's one of my favorite epistles, but with the blessing of rereading comes new insights. I barely got past James, chapter 1 before I found a new word I never before saw: IMPLANT. 

James 1.21, "Therefore, put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls." 

What does implant mean? 

implant: to put or fix firmly; to insert or graft. 

I've heard the word 'graft' before, at least when it comes to trees: a branch is broken off (either purposefully or accidentally), and a new one, probably of a different type, is put in. It's bandaged tightly around, and if the original tree agrees with the new branch, it will accept it- it will be grafted in; implanted in. 

So, I wanted to know where exactly I'd read or heard the term 'grafted' in the Bible. Hello, Romans; Romans 11, to be specific.

So I ask, did they stumble in order that they (the Jews) might fall? By no means! Rather through their trespass salvation has come to the Gentiles, so as to make Israel jealous. Now if their trespass means riches for the world, and if their failure means riches for the Gentiles, how much more will their full inclusion be? ... For if their rejection means the reconciliation of the world, what will their acceptance mean but life from the dead? ... Then you will say, "Branches were broken off so that I might be grafted in." That is true. They were broken off because of their unbelief, but you stand fast through faith**. So do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will he spare you.

Apparently, during ancient Roman times to be adopted into a family (probably a wealthy one) was an honor. You were specifically chosen by that patriarch to be in that family- suffice to say you earned your way in. That's no small thing. To be selected to be part of a family is purposeful; born into it is something nearer chance, I guess.

When that of your own blood fails (this is a touchier subject than I let on) and the adopted one takes that person's place, I suppose the adopted one has every right to be proud, to consider himself special, lucky; blessed. And yet, when Paul writes Romans, and discusses the Gentiles being drafted into the Remnant of Israel he tells them to lower their egos. He tells them, "Don't think so well of yourself. You were adopted, yes, which is culturally significant, but you have to remember, you're still not the natural branches. You think you so easily graft into these trees? If you are torn off and replaced by the natural branches, how easily will one accept its own?" (Romans 11.22-24)

How does this go back to James? Well, if I have to put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness, how do I do that? By hearing and doing the word, apparently.

**The book of James is cited all the time when justifying words by action, even vice-versa. There's no question: walk what you preach.

So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. But someone will say, "You have faith and I have works." Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works. ... For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead. 

Oh.

1 + ? = 2 Ehehe, one cannot be without the other, not even in the slightest. Mathematically, if I want to get to 2 starting with the number 1, I'm going to need another 1.

"But there are people who aren't Christian who do good deeds." Yup, that's true, so how much more so should Christians do good deeds? Why are we throwing rocks at each other, at ourselves, instead of doing good deeds? Are you sure you're Christian?

A Glamorous Life

Teaching is not glamorous. (Like you need to be told that.) I mean, I guess it could be glamorous for theatre teachers who get to act and win Oscars, or train their student actors to win Oscars, but other than that, no glamour. Won't see any teachers on the front cover of Vogue anytime soon (but, you know, this is an unpredictable world). 

As far as my own teaching experience goes, I've gone through a lot of it when rose-colored glasses. As an idealistic undergrad I was always like, "I am never going to do that in my classroom." I had a list of things I would never do in my classroom, then come student teaching, I did most, if not all, of them--talk about hypocrisy in its highest form! 

I wanted to teach like The Dead Poet's Society, or Good Will Hunting, or Freedom Writers, Lean On Me- who wouldn't want to be that positive affect in someone's- a lot of someones- life? Not that those teachers would ever claim complete credit for their students' various successes (though why they claim complete credit for failure is beyond me), but good teacher's want to be good role models: this is the ideal.

However, realistically, the ideal cannot be lived out every day. This is not bad or wrong, but some days really do just drag on and on- some days are just mundane, which perhaps should make me more thankful for the days that are incredibly exciting and life-changing. 

Some days I don't get teachable moments- I just get a bunch of things I never thought I would say like, "No more crackers for you, kid. I said one cracker at a time, you have, like, fifty, which you're going to throw away anyway. No. No more crackers for you." Seriously, I never thought I'd get Jillian Micheals-serious about snack food. 

Some days need to be lazy days because I, or one of my students, might be going through a rough time outside of school (or even going through some petty drama: "He said he liked me, but he won't call."). Some days are just as far from glamorous as if 'glamour' didn't exist. Some days, I just need to make sure that my students leave with their pens and pencils in their backpacks. Some days, I can't ask for more than I can get, and that's fine- even fire crackers fade out. 

Still, I'd like to think I teach well enough to merit an inspirational, heart-wrenching film, I just want to make sure my students feel safe to make mistakes and ask questions. Anything extra is a plus. 

bitter, this wind.

bitter is the wind
yet bright are my eyes--
unabashed, unhindered
by every cloud's disguised light.

bitter is the wind
yet fettered are my feet--
planted, bolstered
by the buried greens of heaven's last storm.

bitter, this wind
because it eats every fear
with no place to dispose its own fears:
seasonally quelled,
seasonally angered.

bitter is the wind.
i should give it something sweet.

Spring's Tomorrow.

Dear God,
   Tomorrow will come, won't it? It's not that I don't want it to come; there have been so many tomorrows that've passed I wonder that I still count it a miracle.
   You know, I have to tell you, prayer is generally a quiet habit, yes, but I can't that the Zumba/party music in the background is distracting--it's just work. Frankly, the music is repetitive enough that it dulls my senses enough to help continue my thoughts.
   Speaking of tomorrows, God, thank you for all my todays, and today, this day. I know that if I think about it long enough, todays and tomorrows they begin to blur together, but I know that every day really is different. I need only look back and see how much has changed.
   Like today! ...wait.
   Tomorrow is the first day of Spring. Finally! New Life, God! Oh, goodness! No snow until next November, at least! Thank you!
   I would be remiss if I did not also thank you for my jobs. My parents' jobs. My sister's job.
   Thank you for weekends off to visit friends, and cars to get there.
   ...I'm sure I'm the last person who should be saying this, but truly, some weeks are a lot harder than others. I know a few of my friends had a particularly hard week this time 'round. Thank you for being with them when I couldn't. Thank you for giving them friends and family (even the occasional stranger) to surround them; work and hobbies to distract or enlighten.
   I don't expect I'll ever understand why we must endure hard weeks, or months, or years...
   Anyway. (I feel like Percy Jackson praying to Poseidon. I don't know that talking to you will ever stop being weird, but I know I need to do it more often. So, as every Wednesday comes, and I have to post a prayer, help me understand the gravity of every request, and the easy love which you use to listen to me, and care for me.
   Good night, God.
   I'll see you later.
   ...when I say 'see'.

Time for a Change!

I've decided to do something.

Clearly, I don't write in here consistently. Nope. But I want to write here consistently...I just don't always know what to write, so I've decided something.

EVERY:
Monday- I'll post a quotation from a book (I'm probably currently reading)
Tuesday- I'll post a picture of a Zentangle I've drawn 
Wednesday- I'll post a prayer
Thursday- I'll post a poem
Friday- a little teaching wisdom (or experience, or mistake; etc.)
Saturday- Bible verses
Sunday- a hymn/worship song I sung at church

Why? Lately, I've been thinking a lot about silence because even though working two part time jobs enable me to have all the alone time, I have heard almost too much of silence, I don't know what to do with it anymore. It frightens me when it used to calm me. I've decided that this needs to change--I need to re-friend silence.

I also need to remember that just because I'm surrounded by noise doesn't mean I have to try to block it out. That's a lot of people and things I ignore- what if I ignore the ones who need me? The ones I need?

I don't post a lot of deep, profound posts that'll make you question your origins or foundation, or political stance. I don't post stuff that'll make you want to recycle all your toilet paper rolls into DIY wall decor. I don't post stuff that'll make you want to ditch your diet. But, I only know how to do the above.

I know it's not Saturday yet, but bear with me here:

Psalm 65.8b, "You make the going out of the morning and the evening shout for joy." 

Today was my first full day in a long time- a regular 9-5 day- I heard little silence, but when I saw the sunrise and sunset, while I didn't hear shouts of joy, I wanted to. In silence, or in sound, I want to hear joy, during the morning and evening, and all the betweens. I want to hear God. Hopefully, this weekly endeavor for my blog will help me hear better.

We'll see.

Expose vs. Educate

I am not a parent, and some professionals might not yet consider me a teacher, although my B.S. in Education might want to boast otherwise (you'll note the 'B.S.'). Anyway, anyway...




For doctors, the worst patients are doctors- the same can be said for teachers: for teachers, the worst parents are teachers. Since I am not either, and have not had the joy of hosting a parent/teacher meeting I have had it in my head that parents (employed as teachers, doctors, or rock stars) are a teacher's worst nightmare. This was never expressly said- generally, I assumed it common knowledge because, well, that was where most of the horror stories about school came from. The funny stories were about students.

But I have learned a new empathy this recent incident because, you see, I don't know how to deny the most curious of eyes who often mirror my own eyes.




My whole life, I have worked to build a filter between my mind and mouth- I think everyone should, and we'll collectively label it DISCERNMENT because knowledge is power, yes, yes, and more yes- of course it is, but 'power'? What kind of 'power' do we talk about when we say 'knowledge is power'?

The best teachers don't just divulge information--teachers aren't the main source of knowledge, hardly--but the best teachers direct where and how to find information- at least in my experience that's what the best teachers do (they also make me laugh, but that's not an academic requirement, not yet). If I want to be the best teacher for my students, and I have the earnest, sincere desire to direct my students; to guide them; to help them; etc., then I also have the responsibility, to a certain extent, 'to keep them safe'.

Now, experience is a good teacher, truly- some lessons can only be learned through experience, but that does not dictate all the other lessons that are better learnt secondhand whether by reading/research, lecture; interviews, but here I've found a thin line: to expose vs. to educate. When you look beyond the line into either side, the two are intertwined, but they are still two different things, otherwise they wouldn't be intertwined, but one blended mush.

I am all about teaching every child about sympathy/empathy, charity/friendship, tolerance, beauty, science/experimentation, culture, materials; etc., but never at the cost of what little innocence every child has. (Perhaps 'innocence' isn't the right word, but 'ignorance' implies too much willfulness.) It may not be the best time to teach kindergartners and first graders about the Holocaust in a casual, after school setting when I have limited time and no prior planning...unfortunately, I needed to experience that lesson.

It may not be the best to put let little Susie prepare dinner all by her little self when she has yet learned how to turn the knobs on the stove.

Each in his or her own time, and frankly, I will not always have the opportunity to decide when the student's 'time' has come to finally know about -inserttopicofinteresthere-. I can speak with utmost clarity and there is still a chance someone misheard me- that is not good enough reason to stop teaching/exposing/educating, but it is good enough reason to examine the individual needs of every student. If so-and-so misunderstood, what can I do to help so-and-so understand? 

Knowledge is totally power. All over that, but wisdom is unparalleled- I need more caregivers than dictators.




So, what new empathy did I breach? This student is someone's child. In my situation, I only have that child for a two to three hours. I don't have to reap the immediate effects of what I've taught, but his or her parents do. Sometimes, I have to unlearn things- that's harder than having to learn something in the first place. When a student is going to hear about the tragedies of this world I hope he or she never learns of its beauties.

• If I had a kid and were somehow able to a fly on the wall in my own classroom, would I be pleased with my own conduct as a teacher? 
• Would I want that particular sort of information expressed in that way? 
• Did I need to be sarcastic there? 
• Should I have worded the question differently? 

These questions don't really have an answer because every situation is different, but never will discernment go out of style.

You'll always need to put broken bones in a cast (unless you have Madame Pomfrey on speed dial), but students aren't bones, and if they break I despise he who says there's only one solution.