suffice to say things don't always turn out as planned. but that's not a surprise. yay, i just, like, love surprises.
#ohGreatGodofHighestHeaven
well...
depend not on the world's promises
for they delay or expire.
well, do not doubt that the world will make promises
for they are many and mighty.
believe in as many as you can
for there is no test to tell which is mighty and which is not.
use these as brick and mortar,
not as foundation.
use as insulation and kindling.
better a foundation the heavens:
upside down, inspired by unconquerable space
for whatever its parts
(which are many)
and its secrets
(which are mighty)
interwoven are its promises:
singular and strong.
earth and heavens:
indecipherable its runes
while i stand on the ground
...but should i flip in order to build up to down
not staircases, ladders, not wings will be necessary to me.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Saturday, January 17, 2015
I don't understand my face. / When did I become an adult?
I don't understand my face.
My face breaks out like Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption: dramatically and without fail.
A year ago now, I was at my annual check-up when my doctor asked me about my acne. I wanted to say, "Well, it's there," but I remained silent. Then he asked, "Aren't you self-conscious?" I looked down at the floor as he passed me a paper with the name of a recommended dermatologist. I took it and left his office. I didn't understand his question because I wasn't sure he'd understand my answer: OF COURSE I'M SELF-CONSCIOUS but I don't let it control my day. Usually. Sometimes.
Sometimes my self-conscious is like white noise: I don't notice it until it's perfectly quiet and I'm perfectly content--like a whisper curling around and into my ear, planting diseases to destroy confident synapses.
"Aren't you self-conscious?"
"Isn't EVERYONE self-conscious?"
Don't get me wrong, I mean, I'm not, like, hideous, but I'm also definitely not America's Next Top Model, y'know what I mean? I'm normal. I asked a friend once if I was a pretty and she answered, "You're pretty, but you're not like Vogue-pretty [which technically no one is.]"
To a certain extent, I think what my doctor meant by his question was, "Are you not doing anything to heal your acne?" And I'm glad he was concerned, I guess...right?
It's just...it's my face. I know what's on it. I am well-aware acne is embarrassing. I know I'm self-conscious, I don't understand why you need to know- why you need to confirm my self-consciousness? I don't even need to use the possessive adjective 'my' to express how personal self-consciousness is because SELF.
I guess...if yooou don't want acne on my face then imagine how much IIIIIII don't want it on my face.
"So, why don't you just use ----?"
Because I have wishy-washy morals. Suffice to say I no longer want to use anything with sulfates or parabens. Yep. Simple as that.
Although, admittedly, removing harmful things from my life is about as easy as growing carrots in wintery Jersey, which is like Leonardo DiCaprio winning an Oscar...so. No.
When did I become an adult?
When did I become an adult?
Perhaps when shy became self-conscious.
When loud became obnoxious.
When pretty became a standard.
When money became an object.
When people became collector's items.
When things became morals.
When fun became a luxury.
When decency became a rarity.
When dreams became responsibilities
and responsibilities became torture
and reality became prison.
When did I become an adult?
When hate overpowered love.
When I lived for the next romantic date.
When I cried more over chick flicks than death counts.
When newscasters only broadcast death counts.
I remember wanting this.
Why did I want to become an adult?
Because adults could wash dishes
and drive cars or fly airplanes or perform surgery.
Because adults could buy candy
and slept when they wanted and crossed the street without holding hands.
The illusion was so well-believed adults never warned children.
Or, at least, adults didn't know to warn children
because they're not entirely sure they're adults.
My face breaks out like Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption: dramatically and without fail.
A year ago now, I was at my annual check-up when my doctor asked me about my acne. I wanted to say, "Well, it's there," but I remained silent. Then he asked, "Aren't you self-conscious?" I looked down at the floor as he passed me a paper with the name of a recommended dermatologist. I took it and left his office. I didn't understand his question because I wasn't sure he'd understand my answer: OF COURSE I'M SELF-CONSCIOUS but I don't let it control my day. Usually. Sometimes.
Sometimes my self-conscious is like white noise: I don't notice it until it's perfectly quiet and I'm perfectly content--like a whisper curling around and into my ear, planting diseases to destroy confident synapses.
"Aren't you self-conscious?"
"Isn't EVERYONE self-conscious?"
Don't get me wrong, I mean, I'm not, like, hideous, but I'm also definitely not America's Next Top Model, y'know what I mean? I'm normal. I asked a friend once if I was a pretty and she answered, "You're pretty, but you're not like Vogue-pretty [which technically no one is.]"
To a certain extent, I think what my doctor meant by his question was, "Are you not doing anything to heal your acne?" And I'm glad he was concerned, I guess...right?
It's just...it's my face. I know what's on it. I am well-aware acne is embarrassing. I know I'm self-conscious, I don't understand why you need to know- why you need to confirm my self-consciousness? I don't even need to use the possessive adjective 'my' to express how personal self-consciousness is because SELF.
I guess...if yooou don't want acne on my face then imagine how much IIIIIII don't want it on my face.
"So, why don't you just use ----?"
Because I have wishy-washy morals. Suffice to say I no longer want to use anything with sulfates or parabens. Yep. Simple as that.
Although, admittedly, removing harmful things from my life is about as easy as growing carrots in wintery Jersey, which is like Leonardo DiCaprio winning an Oscar...so. No.
When did I become an adult?
When did I become an adult?
Perhaps when shy became self-conscious.
When loud became obnoxious.
When pretty became a standard.
When money became an object.
When people became collector's items.
When things became morals.
When fun became a luxury.
When decency became a rarity.
When dreams became responsibilities
and responsibilities became torture
and reality became prison.
When did I become an adult?
When hate overpowered love.
When I lived for the next romantic date.
When I cried more over chick flicks than death counts.
When newscasters only broadcast death counts.
I remember wanting this.
Why did I want to become an adult?
Because adults could wash dishes
and drive cars or fly airplanes or perform surgery.
Because adults could buy candy
and slept when they wanted and crossed the street without holding hands.
The illusion was so well-believed adults never warned children.
Or, at least, adults didn't know to warn children
because they're not entirely sure they're adults.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Russia.
i know your full name;
can pronounce its every syllable.
but if it is the title of your story
i am not allowed a peek at its contents
nor even its table of contents.
only a title and a hint of a publishing date.
you may not've locked-and-thrown-away-the-key
but your pages are glued together.
if not glued
then printed with invisible ink.
like Napoleon burning down Russia
you are impenetrable.
can pronounce its every syllable.
but if it is the title of your story
i am not allowed a peek at its contents
nor even its table of contents.
only a title and a hint of a publishing date.
you may not've locked-and-thrown-away-the-key
but your pages are glued together.
if not glued
then printed with invisible ink.
like Napoleon burning down Russia
you are impenetrable.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Why I Read
Currently, I am reading The Mysterious Education of Nicholas Benedict (I know, I haven't updated my 'Currently Reading' section of my blog since last summer) which features a character whose name is John: a young boy of thirteen or fourteen years who lost his parents. When I first met John he's described as having "numerous pitted scars. [He could] have some contagious disease. [...but he said,] 'They're only chicken pox scars, I'm not contagious anymore--it's been a year. They just didn't go away like they usually do.'"
Chapters later, because the book is illustrated, I am treated to a picture of John who does look like he has freckles. And I smiled. Because I, too, look like I have freckles but that isn't at all what they are. I smiled because I encountered a kindred spirit in a way I did not expect.
The Mysterious Education is hardly a book about looks but often the best books are the ones in which you learn unexpected things.
Most books are often full of characters who 'sparkle' or go from ugly duckling to HELLOSWAN! Don't get me wrong: I don't begrudge them for bedazzling the world with one glance, but sometimes I feel as though every author is eager to make a physically perfect being who is humanized with flaws. But is it so far-fetched to humanize them with their looks?
So far, I've observed that plain-looking characters are human to begin with and whatever flaws they have need no dramatization. Generally, I have found most dramatization forced--I am not suggesting that perfect-looking people can't or don't have horrific back stories- that would be too presumptuous and besides, we are all still people no matter our looks-, but it is a bit tiresome only to find books about Mary Sues and Gary Stus who've got everything on two legs fawning after them while they have to save the world.
Thus, as a warning: should you have any fangirlish feelings for Divergent or The Hunger Games Trilogy you probably shouldn't talk to me.
I realize I read because it is an existential experience: I find a piece of me tucked away in pages full of words a complete stranger might've taken seven years to write. I read because I am eager to find characters and authors who share my secrets and questions and fears and dreams and insecurities. I read to feel less alone. To encounter different perspectives. To come across friends who don't hide in coffee shops or book stores but are trapped in basements or live in faraway countries. So.
Chapters later, because the book is illustrated, I am treated to a picture of John who does look like he has freckles. And I smiled. Because I, too, look like I have freckles but that isn't at all what they are. I smiled because I encountered a kindred spirit in a way I did not expect.
The Mysterious Education is hardly a book about looks but often the best books are the ones in which you learn unexpected things.
Most books are often full of characters who 'sparkle' or go from ugly duckling to HELLOSWAN! Don't get me wrong: I don't begrudge them for bedazzling the world with one glance, but sometimes I feel as though every author is eager to make a physically perfect being who is humanized with flaws. But is it so far-fetched to humanize them with their looks?
So far, I've observed that plain-looking characters are human to begin with and whatever flaws they have need no dramatization. Generally, I have found most dramatization forced--I am not suggesting that perfect-looking people can't or don't have horrific back stories- that would be too presumptuous and besides, we are all still people no matter our looks-, but it is a bit tiresome only to find books about Mary Sues and Gary Stus who've got everything on two legs fawning after them while they have to save the world.
Thus, as a warning: should you have any fangirlish feelings for Divergent or The Hunger Games Trilogy you probably shouldn't talk to me.
I realize I read because it is an existential experience: I find a piece of me tucked away in pages full of words a complete stranger might've taken seven years to write. I read because I am eager to find characters and authors who share my secrets and questions and fears and dreams and insecurities. I read to feel less alone. To encounter different perspectives. To come across friends who don't hide in coffee shops or book stores but are trapped in basements or live in faraway countries. So.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
A Study in Membership: Part 03- The Hub
The question to conquer today- what qualifies as church?'
--It is going to take me a long time to write this one.
--It is going to take me a long time to write this one.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
mother of God, i want so much.
i need a haircut.
i need to take deeper breaths.
i need to look more people in the eye.
i need to give away more books.
i need to forget reflections to grasp something solid.
i have mistaken wants for needs.
i need to learn not to do that.
i need to take deeper breaths.
i need to look more people in the eye.
i need to give away more books.
i need to forget reflections to grasp something solid.
i have mistaken wants for needs.
i need to learn not to do that.
Friday, December 12, 2014
"She is so nice!"
I am substitute teacher, but only for the past two months. In those two months I have become every student's favorite but not because I give out candy (which isn't allowed anyway) or let them use their smartphones, or not make them do the assigned work. I am their favorite because I am nice.
I'm nice?
While I am surprised by the comment, I do not believe it is said in jest. Students are perfectly serious when they compliment my niceness. I have had the chance to observe some of their other teachers...
Now, wait!
I know, I know, I am only a substitute teacher, and, like I said, have only been a substitute teacher for TWO MONTHS. The latter two months of what would be a college fall semester. I don't have the stress of lesson plans. I haven't had to plan lessons while I am sick, nursing children; trying to pay rent or a mortgage, or car repairs. I have not had to attend conferences or meetings. I have not had endless hours grading papers with indecipherable handwriting (worse if it's in neon gel pen!). I have not had to interact with ANY parents. I don't have to silently protest contracts. Nothing. I, as a substitute teacher, have nothing- no problems that stereotypically and truthfully run teachers' lives.
But, if in two months I astonish your students of four months with my niceness is something not wrong?
Everyone has off-days. Totes mcgotes. I get that. I do. I am person therefore I have off-days. You are a person therefore you have off-days, but surely your days can't be so off that you cannot be nice to your students.
I am convinced that adults never stop being children. Adults tell children to stop bulling each other. But do adults ever tell other adults to stop bullying adults? Do adults ever tell other adults to stop bullying children?
It is a lie to believe that bullying only happens to children, or that it's only children who bully other children. I may not tease Susie about her pig tails anymore, but now her heels are too high and her hair too flat and fake.
What is wrong with me?
I don't understand how any school can promote anti-bullying but allow it to happen with its teachers.
Anytime I walk into a classroom I have had students approach me to ask, "Are you the sub?"
"Yep."
"Just so you know, this is a bad class." And they're not referring to the subject.
I simply look at the student and say, "We'll see." And they are never a bad class. They are just loud.
I've observed that most students associate silence with goodness and noise with badness which would be fine IF THE WORLD WERE THAT BLACK AND WHITE. Both silence and noise are detrimental depending on situation. Some students thrive on studying in puck-rock concerts, while others need places where talk is forbidden. And I understand how hard it is to provide both to a class of 15-30 students, but if you cannot cope with that requirement then you shouldn't be a teacher. Taking out your frustrations on your students is not the way to deal with your frustrations.
Taking out your frustrations on your spouse, or pet, or television, or vegetables, or boss, or peers- that is wrong.
Assuming that that one student who annoyed you once will annoy you all the time, forevermore, also wrong.
And let's be real here: if the worst thing your students do to you is annoy you, maybe you should teach in the projects where peoples issues depend more on life and death than attitude adjustments. I would like to see you solve their problems by yelling at them, or giving them detention, or sending them to the principal's office. Band-aid solutions do not work.
It is amazing how many 'silly', or 'off-topic' things students will say without intending to be 'silly' or 'off-topic'. If you, as a teacher, just ask your student to clarify his statement, he might actually have a point. It might make other students giggle, but it certainly got their attention in a way you couldn't. Students want you to take them seriously as much as you want them to take you seriously. It is a give and take; a two-way street. To suggest it is neither is to miss the point of education.
Sometimes the student isn't be 'silly' or 'off-topic' but is thinking out loud. Sometimes the student may have hit the ball too far left though he thought he hit center--he's not trying to distract you, he is thinking through what you are saying. And when you dismiss his thoughts as 'silly' or 'off-topic' you discourage how he processes things and you therefore discourage his opinion and his input. On a larger scale, you could be discouraging his input and opinion where it matters most: in politics, in economics, in relationships, in art, in science... (Maybe I should reread The Abolition of Man.)
We salute Einstein for being unable to pass elementary school maths but overcoming that, but that's because we know he ended up being Einstein. Will you not give your students the opportunity to be Einstein?
We all know that schools have flaws. Good God, schools are made by people who are flawed- of course our products will turn out flawed, but that does not justify meanness or anger. Anger is and can be justified. We should all be mad there isn't more being done to make better our education system. We should be mad that the ways in which we try to improve our education system are band-aid approaches.
But that isn't the students' faults.
And has it ever occurred to you that students annoy you just to see how mad you could get- that's worth a trip to the principal's office! Now they know ALL your buttons. Good you gave them that. Augh.
I understand it is naive of me to think this way. I understand that some students come with warning labels- some teachers do (there are websites dedicated to rating professors)! But if anti-bullying is supposed to stop children, adults, EVERYONE, from judging a book by its cover, then by being nice I choose also to ignore the reviews.
I do not know these students. I understand they have a reputation. I will let them show me who they are, thank you. They are not my enemy. They are people who want to see what metal I am made of. They want to know if I'll treat them with the respect I ask them to give me.
I wish students were not so dumbstruck by my niceness. I wish we were all nicer to each other. No one has to go to college or university for niceness so it can't be impossible to achieve.
I know the world isn't going to be nice to them, and "That's reality!" but when the world wasn't nice to me it was nice to know I had a few people I could turn to. I do think it's important to prepare students for the 'real world' but not to the point where I have to sacrifice 'niceness'. Once niceness is sacrificed, I've stopped being a student alongside them, and teachers need always to be students alongside them.
I'm nice?
While I am surprised by the comment, I do not believe it is said in jest. Students are perfectly serious when they compliment my niceness. I have had the chance to observe some of their other teachers...
Now, wait!
I know, I know, I am only a substitute teacher, and, like I said, have only been a substitute teacher for TWO MONTHS. The latter two months of what would be a college fall semester. I don't have the stress of lesson plans. I haven't had to plan lessons while I am sick, nursing children; trying to pay rent or a mortgage, or car repairs. I have not had to attend conferences or meetings. I have not had endless hours grading papers with indecipherable handwriting (worse if it's in neon gel pen!). I have not had to interact with ANY parents. I don't have to silently protest contracts. Nothing. I, as a substitute teacher, have nothing- no problems that stereotypically and truthfully run teachers' lives.
But, if in two months I astonish your students of four months with my niceness is something not wrong?
Everyone has off-days. Totes mcgotes. I get that. I do. I am person therefore I have off-days. You are a person therefore you have off-days, but surely your days can't be so off that you cannot be nice to your students.
I am convinced that adults never stop being children. Adults tell children to stop bulling each other. But do adults ever tell other adults to stop bullying adults? Do adults ever tell other adults to stop bullying children?
It is a lie to believe that bullying only happens to children, or that it's only children who bully other children. I may not tease Susie about her pig tails anymore, but now her heels are too high and her hair too flat and fake.
What is wrong with me?
I don't understand how any school can promote anti-bullying but allow it to happen with its teachers.
Anytime I walk into a classroom I have had students approach me to ask, "Are you the sub?"
"Yep."
"Just so you know, this is a bad class." And they're not referring to the subject.
I simply look at the student and say, "We'll see." And they are never a bad class. They are just loud.
I've observed that most students associate silence with goodness and noise with badness which would be fine IF THE WORLD WERE THAT BLACK AND WHITE. Both silence and noise are detrimental depending on situation. Some students thrive on studying in puck-rock concerts, while others need places where talk is forbidden. And I understand how hard it is to provide both to a class of 15-30 students, but if you cannot cope with that requirement then you shouldn't be a teacher. Taking out your frustrations on your students is not the way to deal with your frustrations.
Taking out your frustrations on your spouse, or pet, or television, or vegetables, or boss, or peers- that is wrong.
Assuming that that one student who annoyed you once will annoy you all the time, forevermore, also wrong.
And let's be real here: if the worst thing your students do to you is annoy you, maybe you should teach in the projects where peoples issues depend more on life and death than attitude adjustments. I would like to see you solve their problems by yelling at them, or giving them detention, or sending them to the principal's office. Band-aid solutions do not work.
It is amazing how many 'silly', or 'off-topic' things students will say without intending to be 'silly' or 'off-topic'. If you, as a teacher, just ask your student to clarify his statement, he might actually have a point. It might make other students giggle, but it certainly got their attention in a way you couldn't. Students want you to take them seriously as much as you want them to take you seriously. It is a give and take; a two-way street. To suggest it is neither is to miss the point of education.
Sometimes the student isn't be 'silly' or 'off-topic' but is thinking out loud. Sometimes the student may have hit the ball too far left though he thought he hit center--he's not trying to distract you, he is thinking through what you are saying. And when you dismiss his thoughts as 'silly' or 'off-topic' you discourage how he processes things and you therefore discourage his opinion and his input. On a larger scale, you could be discouraging his input and opinion where it matters most: in politics, in economics, in relationships, in art, in science... (Maybe I should reread The Abolition of Man.)
We salute Einstein for being unable to pass elementary school maths but overcoming that, but that's because we know he ended up being Einstein. Will you not give your students the opportunity to be Einstein?
We all know that schools have flaws. Good God, schools are made by people who are flawed- of course our products will turn out flawed, but that does not justify meanness or anger. Anger is and can be justified. We should all be mad there isn't more being done to make better our education system. We should be mad that the ways in which we try to improve our education system are band-aid approaches.
But that isn't the students' faults.
And has it ever occurred to you that students annoy you just to see how mad you could get- that's worth a trip to the principal's office! Now they know ALL your buttons. Good you gave them that. Augh.
I understand it is naive of me to think this way. I understand that some students come with warning labels- some teachers do (there are websites dedicated to rating professors)! But if anti-bullying is supposed to stop children, adults, EVERYONE, from judging a book by its cover, then by being nice I choose also to ignore the reviews.
I do not know these students. I understand they have a reputation. I will let them show me who they are, thank you. They are not my enemy. They are people who want to see what metal I am made of. They want to know if I'll treat them with the respect I ask them to give me.
I wish students were not so dumbstruck by my niceness. I wish we were all nicer to each other. No one has to go to college or university for niceness so it can't be impossible to achieve.
I know the world isn't going to be nice to them, and "That's reality!" but when the world wasn't nice to me it was nice to know I had a few people I could turn to. I do think it's important to prepare students for the 'real world' but not to the point where I have to sacrifice 'niceness'. Once niceness is sacrificed, I've stopped being a student alongside them, and teachers need always to be students alongside them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)