Ms. Taylor Goes to Washington

Sorrow and Hope...

2011-12-26T20:12:00.000-08:00

I spent some time today at what I can only describe as the Christian equivalent of sitting Shivah. I have never been in a house so full of sorrow, so overcome with silence. As I came in to the house, I knew I could do nothing but weep with the broken hearted. I had to let go of my hope to somehow be able to help, and just realize that sometimes in life there is nothing you can do. And sometimes in life nothing makes sense. It is just a time to mourn. To truly weep. As each person came in, the reaction was the same--an outpouring of sadness--a sadness deeper than any I had ever seen. And I had to tell myself that there was no way to stop it or help. It just had to be. It was the time to mourn. And somehow, strangely, mourning together felt like the right thing to do. It was right to be in a place where people could cry and simply be broken. I am not foolish enough to think that my grief in any way compared to that of the family, so I could not imagine what they were experiencing. The dear, sweet, amazing boy they lost will be missed every day by so many. He was precious, and so full of potential. He was so young, and his life was just getting started. He was loved and cherished, and nothing will fill the hole left by him. As I sat there processing what was happening, I kept thinking what I thought when my grandmother passed away. Death makes no sense to my soul. Something in me knows that this was not the way it was supposed to be. Something in the deepest part of who I am knows that mortality wasn't in the cards originally. So my mind and heart and soul can never quite understand how someone can be gone. My soul rebels against the thought that a life on earth is over--even when thinking about heaven and eternal life. My heart aches for those who lost their son, brother, cousin, and friend, while at the same time my heart refuses to believe that this is normal--refuses to believe that this was the way it was supposed to go. And so I am reminded of the tension we live in. Of waiting for God to rectify things while finding a way to live fully until He does.

When I heard the news, it was one of those moments that changes things. And any way I describe it will sound like a cliche. But the words that came out of my mother's mouth didn't seem real. I couldn't comprehend how a boy I had babysat for, that I had known since he was tiny, had died last night. He is also the son of my dad's best friend. My heart broke. It broke for the life lost--the potential, the story that won't be told. It broke because I always looked forward to seeing him around church, to hearing how he was growing up. It broke for my dad--how his heart was broken for his friend, and for the boy he loved. But more than that, my heart broke for his family. I don't know what you do with that. How do you...I can't even think of a verb for it. It was one of those moments where your head tries to protect you by coming up with any way that makes things okay. And you keep thinking that surely, somehow, it will turn out to be a mistake. It just actually seems like there is no way that he can possibly be gone. I found myself crying in a way I hadn't in a very long time. It was the tears that come from the inability of a soul meant for eternity to grasp mortality. I just kept thinking, "But there was so much left for him."

I witnessed a shooting the summer between my junior and senior year of high school. I was in the US Capitol building when a crazy man acted on his thoughts that the government was out to get him. My life forever changed that day, and I remember the moment I stepped out of the Capitol. The sun was shining, and the people outside didn't yet know what was going on. I must have looked distraught, so a lady asked me what was wrong. I looked at her and thought, "How can you not know?" It didn't seem possible, that with something so atrocious happening, the sun could still shine and everyone else was still moving. I felt the same way today, leaving this family's house. After watching so many with broken hearts, grieving from the deepest part of who they are, it seemed impossible that the people at the car wash could still be so casually washing their cars, and the people at the pizza place could hand us our pizza with such an everyday attitude. It feels like the whole world should stop, should cease to operate as normal. And then there is the sad realization that, until Jesus returns and rights all of the wrongs, that this is normal. A day in which our hearts break, and sorrow is common, is normal in a fallen world--a world with sin and suffering and incomplete people. A world where God's grace allows us to live without his full justice means a world where we have a chance to know Him and His grace, but it also means that we must encounter the tragic side of free will. And so I realize that every day full of beauty and love and hope is a gift that I must hold on to, and every day filled with devastation and grief and unbearable loss is a day that makes my heart ache that much more for the day that He declares enough. For the day when He rights the wrongs and heals us completely. The day that leads to an end to death, and illness, and disabilities. A day when none of us are broken in any way...the day when we become who God originally designed us to be--whole, one with him, and free from sorrow.

The Break-up Mix Tape

2010-11-30T11:00:00.000-08:00

So I recently have learned quite a bit about break-ups, having recently experienced one myself. I have had an interesting list of songs going through my head. So I present to you, "Laurel's Chronology of a Break-up as Heard in Her Head."

According to Lorelia Gilmore, moping is the first and most essential step in any good break-up. I decided to give in to this theory. I gave myself a whole day to do whatever I wanted--I watched Law and Order, drank a slurpy, and read a brain candy book. It would have been the perfect day, if I hadn't felt so bad.

This stage does have nice perks though: people treating you delicately, giving you plenty of compliments and allowing you to be a completely selfish person. The problem with this is that it's kinda like when people nurse you when you have the stomach flu. It would be great if you didn't feel so crappy. For this particular stage, you need a good melodramatic melody to play in your head as you lament the events that have unfolded. Something like this:

Pop quiz: What is the best thing to say to someone who has recently been dumped:
a. I'm so sorry.
b. I'm sure you're better off.
c. Cute shoes.
d. What a fool!! What kind of ridiculous person would let you go?

This is the stage where you learn all kinds of really important life skills, but I imagine it is kinda like that guy who had to saw off his own arm while rock climbing. I'm sure he now has a very useful skill set but would prefer to not have to use those skills again.

So once the initial moping has come to an end, there is the inevitable inbetweenness...you are coming out of the post-relationship haze...starting to notice all of the lovely people you might have missed while in a relationship. It's reassuring to know that the world is full of interesting people to get to know. There is one slight inconvenience with this. Your heart likes to remind you that all of these people are not the boy. It sounds a bit like this guy:

And the song playing in your head is a bit like this:

It's such a little whimsical tune.

As time goes on, the baby in your head finally gets the hint that this chant is counterproductive. So you start to notice that all is right in the world again. There are neat people, fabulous hobbies, ridiculously useless but entertaining girly movies to enjoy. At this point, it is time to sing a little song: (couldn't find the music for this one...sorry) with Will Hoge:
click the link...then click on the play button...sorry...

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001OGRPES/ref=dm_dp_trk9?ie=UTF8&qid=1291225319&sr=8-11

After a few weeks of feeling very proud of yourself that you no longer miss the other person and that you have "moved on." (I have found that a new outfit goes a long way in this direction...I'm just saying!) Life has now returned to "normal." It is now time for the voice inside your head to find a new song to sing. You can't talk about how you're over someone if you keep talking about how over them you are indefinitely. So now it is time for a happy, educational little tune in your head. Something like this:

And eventually, you optimistically await the day that a nice guy who looks like this:

Will come along and be singing this lovely power ballad:

Knitters Mean Business...

2010-11-26T07:13:00.000-08:00

So I have been told on multiple occasions that my life is weird. I often end up in weird situations that are TOTALLY not my fault and TOTALLY random chance. Today was another one of those. A friend of my finally put it into words--weird things often happen around me, rarely directly to me.

I went to the local yarn shop (LYS to the hardcore knitting world...) for a Black Friday sale. The earlier you got there, the more you saved. When I found out they were having a 25% off sale, I thought, "Lookie--a way to get cheap yarn (yarn rarely goes on sale), avoid crowds, and feel morally superior by shopping local." So I dragged my sorry butt out of the house in time to get to the store before 8. And there was a line! That's right! A line to get into the store. Evidently they abide strictly by the fire code (which made the store way more pleasant and became a very good idea as the next series of events unfolded...). So I finally got in the store. I was strategically getting the yarn on my meticulously-constructed list. Then I noticed that one of the workers asked someone to take over the register. She sounded urgent--I assumed she had to use the restroom. Then I noticed an ambulance pulling up and the opening of both doors. I thought, "Oh dear!" It turns out that someone standing in line had passed out!!! Now that is dedication! She was fine--I guess I should have mentioned that earlier! She had come early for the sale and just really didn't want to forfeit the discount! As they were wheeling her out of the store, the owner told the husband to let the wife know she could claim her discount later! Evidently the lady was concerned about this, even in her altered state. Now that is commitment!

I think my favorite part of the story is that after she left, one of the other shoppers said, "I guess she just didn't want to miss the sale." An employee responded, "Well, she did have a whole bag of (some name I hadn't heard of, but must be really nice) sock yarn." The shopper and the other shoppers around her said, "Ahhh!" in a knowing, completely sensible, "well of course" kind of way. Man, knitters mean business when it comes to a good yarn sale.

A reason to come back...

2010-07-28T12:07:00.000-07:00

So I haven't written on here in over a year, but today something became worth writing about. I'm teaching summer school, and I love it. I never thought I would say that, but God has an amazing way of working all things for good. The kids in my classes are interesting and really smart. I'm learning all kinds of lessons from working with them. But today was definitely the best lesson I've learned as a teacher.

Let me give some background. I am teaching a sophomore class and a junior class. These are all kids that didn't pass the first time around and the classes are 3 1/2 hours long every day. The first one starts at 7:30 AM. None of us are all that excited about these hours, but we're making it. Anyway--I had never taught a junior class before...EVER...So when I was planning the class, I thought I'd go with the basics--The Great Gatsby and The Crucible. But everything changed the first day of school. Between both classes there are two white people in the classes--me and one sophomore girl. I quickly realized that I didn't want to make kids from so many different backgrounds read two books written by dead white guys all about white people. I didn't want them to leave the class thinking that the only people who have anything to say worth reading are white. I also didn't want them to think that the only people whose lives matter look just like me. So I quickly picked up the copy of A Raisin in the Sun that I had grabbed in the book room. It took all of two seconds to decide that this would be our second text. I can't tell you how glad I am that we are reading this play. It's amazing, interesting, and incredibly relevant. Today is the perfect example of this.

This may or not be a familiar play. (I had heard of it but hadn't read it until last week.) The play's title comes from a line in Langston Hughes's poem "Dream Deferred" I'll post it below so you get a feel for it.

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

So we spent a day discussing what happens to a person when his/her dreams are always just out of reach or are always being put off. And then we started the play. Today we were reading along and got into a discussion of past generations sacrificing so that the current generation can have a better life. This led to a discussion of progress in civil rights and the work that still needs to be done. One of my Latino students said that he thought that the life these African American characters were living in the 60's is much like the Latino life these days. In a room full of students of color, this led to a vitally important and enlightening conversation.

The next 30 minutes was fascinating. It seemed like almost every student in the room had something to add--the way someone's mother was passed over for a job in favor of a white woman, the way the he always gets offered the lowest possible job because of his ethnicity, the way that store employees always follow her around and assume she'll steal because she's Black. So we (me and the other teacher in the room) start talking about the importance of fighting these things, of not giving up. But I sat there thinking how hard it is to say that as a white woman.

Obviously my life isn't perfect just because I'm white, but I'd have to be a fool to think that being white hasn't made life easier in a lot of ways. The stereotypes about me are mostly funny--and sadly true--I can't dance, rap, or jump. I don't have to worry about someone assuming I'm a criminal when they pull me over and see my skin color. I can walk into a store and no one gives me the stink eye. When I go for a job interview, my race never really enters my mind. I'm not saying that white people are never the victims of racism--I'm sure they are occasionally, but it's not nearly as much of a systemic problem as it is for other races. No one questions my citizenship when I walk down the street; no one assumes I am a trouble maker. And sitting here, listening to all that these kids deal with as teenagers makes my heart ache for them.

But it also is a wake-up call. I told them today that the way change happens is for all of us to decide to fight for equality, but that that means even those of us who are privileged because of our race have to decide to fight. And I was speaking more to myself than to any of them. I get way too comfortable with being white. I don't think about how my students struggle. In a school as diverse as mine, it's easy to forget about race. I know that sounds weird, but because we are all constantly mingling together, I forget that these kids leave school and go into a world that is still divided in a lot of ways. Heck--I could just look at the cafeteria and see that. But that's another conversation for another day.

I should add in here that in all this conversation about discrimination, I also had to stand up for myself. A student said something about "white people," and I was quick to clarify that, just as they can't be summed up as a group, white people can't be either. I told them that it's not fair for people to assume that I'm racist just because of my skin color. I told them that people have made assumptions about me before too. I encouraged them to fight all stereotypes--not just the ones affecting them. Racism is racism no matter what colors are involved.

I guess the reason I wanted to blog again was to say that as much as I like to think of myself as progressive when it comes to race, today's conversation woke me up. It made me realize how easy it is to sit in my little white skin and be comfortable. It's not that I don't care about discrimination. One of the reasons I like my school is because I get to prepare kids of all races to compete on equal footing. I firmly believe that the first step to equality is to give all kids a good education, and I like feeling like I am spending my days working towards that. But I had gotten so comfortable in my world, I forgot that I should always be a little uncomfortable as long as I know that not everyone gets to be comfortable. I need to speak, act, and fight for others. Especially as a Christian...I don't have the right to say, "Man, that stinks." I'm not sure that squares with James 2:15 which calls us to do more that say a quick, "Go in peace" to people that need something. It's one thing to know in a theoretical sense that racism is still a problem. It's quite another to have that racism become faces of 17-year-olds who get pushed around because of their races. And I can't dismiss their stories. I know them. And it makes it so much more important to fight against racism when the victims are people I know and love.

But I'm not really sure how you go about changing things. It's one thing to tell your government, but how do you change individual people's minds? So I guess this is where I pray for wisdom, to know how to affect change. Sorry I don't have a big, fancy end to this one. But I guess it's more of a start.

I'm a vending machine genius...

2009-07-28T20:32:00.000-07:00

So I'm spending the week in a dorm at the University of Arkansas. "But you're not a college student," you are thinking, right? You are correct. I'm here for an AP summer institute. I've learned many valuable lessons, but the most important involves the vending machines. I got back to the dorms tonight after some yummy cajun food and a fun night of catching up with a friend from high school. But I decided to grab something completely lacking nutritional value before checking my email. I was debating between Skittles and some chocolate cupcakes. I went for the cupcakes...but they got stuck. I tried my best "shake the machine" moves, but with no results. So then I had to decide what to do next...this is where the genius kicks in. I realized that instead of getting another couple of cupcakes (to, of course, set the first set of cupcakes free) I could get the junk food (Skittles of course) above it and that would knock the cupcakes down on the way. It totally worked!

OH--and be careful of judging others. Today I was mocking (in my head of course--I'm a good little Southern girl at heart...we don't make fun of people to their faces :) ) a guy in the student union. He had two HUGE pre-packaged pastries. I thought it was pretty ridiculous, until I was staring at the vending machine as it held my Hostess cakes hostage. Then I instantly thought, "I bet that's what happened to that guy!"

Pro/Con lists and their limits...

2009-07-03T12:47:00.000-07:00

I have been aching for weeks to begin reading the books that have slowly piled up in my "things to read ASAP" stack by my bed. At the top of the pile was this one:

It is a bit dry, but the ideas make it worth the read. I got to immediately put my new knowledge of game theory to work in analyzing the parental behaviors I witnessed at graduation. But, by far, my favorite selection from the book was Darwin's list. It turns out that Darwin decided to make a pro/con list when deciding if he should marry his love interest. Want to know his reasoning? Here ya go:

Pros of getting married: Object to be beloved and played with

Better than a dog anyhow

Home and someone to take care of house

Charms of music and female chit-chat

And a nice, soft wife on a sofa with a good fire and books and music perhaps

Pros of single life: Conversation with clever men at clubs

not forced to visit relatives and bend in every trifle

absence of anxiety and responsibility

money for books

So what was his conclusion? According to this author, Darwin decided, "My God, it is intolerable to think of spending one's whole life like a neuter bee, working, working, and nothing after all--No, no, won't do." So he proposed.

So there's that--your bit of random trivia for the day. Have a lovely 4th of July.

Forgiveness

2009-06-29T06:23:00.000-07:00

I once heard a sermon that really stuck with me. It was all about forgiving even when the other person hasn't asked for it...kind of like secret forgiveness. As an adult, I kind of miss the childhood "I'm sorry" situations where an outside party forced those who wronged us to apologize and "mean it." Maybe this was just me, but rarely did adults let me or those who wronged me get away with the gruff and clearly insincere "I'm sorry" followed by an angry smirk. I remember one time my mom decided the best way to get my sister and me to really be sorry was to stick us in the same room until we apologized to each other. She's lucky this worked out as well as it did. It's surprising that we didn't walk out of the room missing chunks of our hair or a tooth. But as a child, I think my sense of justice was formed by this--that when I was hurt, the person was called out and forced to make amends, and I was required to do the same.

Of course as I got older, I had to learn the hard lesson of forgiving bigger hurts than simply having the head of my Barbie doll ripped off. But regardless of the offense, I think I grew up believing that forgiveness was something that was earned--that one had to be not just sorry, but really, really sorry. And they might even have to suffer for a certain amount of time while I decided if I wanted to forgive them. The problem with that, is that forgiveness is seen as a commodity that the injured party can use as he/she chooses. But more than that, it is assumed that those who hurt us will always seek forgiveness. As an adult, I can now see that sometimes those people are either unaware of the injury, or worst of all, don't care. To completely oversimplify the situation, for example, the BMW convertible that clearly disregarded the crosswalk sign and then honked at me for being in his way as he sped by me the other day in no way thought he needed my forgiveness. I thought of many things he needed--none of them positive.

I think it's interesting because, as a teacher, I can require that my students apologize to me or their classmates when they are in the wrong, but they rarely mean it and that annoys me even more. I have to constantly choose to hold them to a high standard of behavior without holding a grudge for the things they say and to do to me when they don't like my expectations. But they are teenagers. Even under the best of circumstances they are required to roll their eyes and sigh dramatically at least three times a day. :)

But what about the big stuff--the situations in which you can't just chalk it up to teenage hormones? I think this pastor's sermon struck me because he said something I've known for a while but kind of dismissed as a cliche--waiting around for someone to apologize is a waste of time. As I think of exactly what I will say when he/she asks for forgiveness and formulate the perfect speech, I'm missing out on time I could be doing something else. The emotional energy and hope spent waiting for the day when the person finally sees the light and gets it could be so much more wisely invested in the people around me who actually care. Because let's be honest--most people that we wait to forgive either have no idea we are holding on to that, or worst of all--don't care. So yeah--learning to forgive and move on isn't so much about learning to be selfless...it's really more about self-preservation...it's about using my time and energy more effectively. And I have to remind myself of that.

The Newest Addition...

2009-06-26T13:43:00.000-07:00

My sister and brother-in-law are currently in Ethiopia meeting their absolutely beautiful daughter. I just keep looking at the pictures on their blog and thinking, "I can't believe that's my niece." I now know that until I get to meet her, time will feel like it is standing still. If you want to check her out, their blog address is www.alongroadhome.wordpress.com.

The first day of summer...

2009-06-25T21:24:00.000-07:00

So at approximately 1:30 today, I walked out of the school building and began my summer. So what exactly does a hip, young teacher such as myself do to celebrate? Cranks up the Beyonce and begins the process of putting her apartment back together. Be honest...you know you are jealous. Luckily for me, the day/evening got much more exciting. My awesome new friend invited me to join her at the Nats game where they punished the Red Sox. I'm not sure if you could really call it a punishment, but I will, just for dramatic effect. The game was fun, the weather was lovely, and the company was awesome. I did find out early in the game that Michael Jackson had died. It's just so weird to say that. And it continues to prove my theory that celebrities die in groups. So strange.

On a completely random note, I think this may be my best summer yet. I can't believe how many cool things are going on in my home area this summer. What is on my social calendar you might ask. Well, for one, Top Gun is playing next Friday at the outdoor "I love the 80's" film festival. Also--this coming Monday I am scheduled to have my first encounter with a multi-level driving range...very exciting. And I have tickets to the July 4th baseball game--and according to the signs tonight--that includes a free mini-flag. What more could a girl ask for? Okay--on that note, I will go to bed.

Giraffe's and what you can live without...

2009-06-18T16:44:00.000-07:00

As some of you may know, I am often intrigued by animal behavior and biology. I sometimes get to sneak in a bit of animal fun into English. I pretend to do this because I'm appealing to members of my diverse learning community that might not be English fanatics, but in truth, I just think animals are cute. All that to say, as I think I may have mentioned here before, I often use pictures to practice vocab words with my students. The other day I was so impressed with their curiosity and knowledge when I presented them with a new picture. I showed them a picture similar to this one:

I'm not really sure if this is a common giraffe expression, but it amused me. What really impressed me was that in every class, one kid piped up to ask what the point was of the little horn-ish things on the tops of their heads. Of course, I didn't know, so we came up with several possible explanations. We inevitable decided that it was probably something like our appendix...that could be completely wrong, but it satisfied us. (One of my real smarty pants brought up the formal term for unneeded parts--vestigial structures...clearly she has been paying attention in science class.) So that led to me saying that I was always surprised by how many organs you can live without. We started listing the ones we knew of...you can really live with quite a few missing parts...and we didn't even discuss limbs. So I have a question for you. What all can humans live without? I really want to see how long of a list we can come up with. There might even be a bit of a prize for most surprising. And things you can do without part of count as well...so being able to live with half of an organ counts. Lest you think I am one of those rambling teachers, this conversation took approximately 3 minutes, and on review day sometimes you need a 3 minute break from English terms. Or at least that's how I justified it in my mind. :)

Reunions, dresses and the meaning of life...

2009-06-18T16:07:00.000-07:00

So last Friday night I set off to find a dress for my high school reunion. I know what you are thinking: "How can someone who gets mistaken for a student in the lunch line go to a reunion?" But despite my youthful appearance (ha!), alas, it is time to partake in a tradition as beloved as...hmmm...I got nothin'. All that to say, I set off for the mall with a handful of discount cards (I refuse to call them coupons--I'm not buying cheese in bulk; I'm buying a dress). I thought that, surely with a whole evening and a huge mall at my disposal, I would be able to find something to wear.

This is where I should give some background. I've been a bit picky about this purchase, because, if I'm completely honest, I'm not really sure how I am going to feel spending an evening small talking with people I didn't really know that well 10 years ago and really don't know now. I think the line from _The Wedding Date_ captures my mindset best: "I['m going to] feel like crap, and if I'm gonna feel like crap, I want to look hot doing it." So off I went, to ensure that if I feel like crap that night, at least I will think I look good. :)

I went to a couple of stores, and at the final one, I found a few dresses I thought might work. I had explained to the sales woman (we'll call her Barbara) that I was looking for a reunion dress. She gave me some suggestions and sent me on my way. The dressing area was hoppin' this particular evening, and little did I know that those waiting for their loved ones to decided if they wanted grey pants or black, were watching my fashion show. After I finally somewhat decided on a dress, another sales woman threw in her two cents (we'll call her Becky). When she found out I was thinking about wearing the dress in question to a reunion, Becky informed me that the dress was too casual and would never do. I disagreed and said I didn't want to be overdressed. In an effort to prove the error of my thinking, Becky roped in an innocent bystander and asked her, as a mother, if she thought the dress would work. The woman said she thought so, but she actually liked a different dress I had tried on better (this is when I realized I was not an island after all...Simon and Garfunkel had led me astray). Yet another sales woman (we'll call her Sally) came along and begged me to try the other dress back on, just to see. Being the sweet, Southern girl I am, I obliged. Once I put it on, all aforementioned parties agreed it was a better choice. I said I felt hippy (and not like in a granola kind of way). They all said I was wrong--it was a good choice. And then things got even more interesting when a guy waiting on his significant other piped up and said he agreed...this was a good dress for a reunion. I had to laugh, because it always surprises me the things that draw people in. I think people are really sympathetic in some of the most unusual situations. I guess everyone can relate to wanting to find something that makes you feel good when you know the situation might be tricky. And both of the non-sales people in this conversation had been there, done that. So I bought the dress...and the one I was told wouldn't work (I think in my mind I am hoping that my life will becoming interesting enough that I just might need an extra fun dress...).

Want to know what I'm wearing to the reunion? I woke up the next morning, decided I didn't really feel crazy about either option, and went out to buy a full-priced, no discount dress that I loved in the first store I had gone to the night before. Some things are just worth full price I think. We'll see how I feel in a month when I'm actually there.

It's interesting though, because I started writing this blog entry because I was about to purchase my ticket and went to look at the RSVP list. As I scrolled through names, I really started having a bit of a moment. It's weird--because I love my life, my job, my tiny apartment, but I sometimes feel like seeing people you haven't seen in a while requires you to justify your existence. And I'm pretty sure that, on paper or from an outsider's view, my life is rather unimpressive. So what do I do with that? I can become self righteous or apologetic or I can pretend like I'm too good to be wrapped up in worldly possessions, but building a facade is such a waste of energy. When I start to think about it, I realize that the real evidence of a life well lived over these last 10 years isn't an impressive resume or a surprising net worth, its contentment. So I took a deep breath, realized that having strangers feel impressed with my life isn't really that important, and bought my ticket. Who knows what all of my classmates will think of what I've done with my life, but why should that really matter? I'm content most days (anyone who says they are always content is a liar...I think). And that's enough. Or at least it is at this moment. I might just have to remind myself of that later.

Amazing Documentary and Favorite Scrubs Moments...

2009-05-29T19:29:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went to my church to see an amazing documentary. As We Forgive is the unbelievable story of reconciliation in Rwanda. I remember reading about the genocide in Rwanda when I was in college. This documentary looks at how several victims of the 1994 genocide are dealing with living in the same villages as the perpetrators of one of the most devastating genocides in human history. Watching these people choose to forgive the people that killed their family members just made my head spin. It was also devastating to listen to the guilty parties discussing how they became convinced to kill their friends and neighbors. If you ever get a chance to watch this amazing documentary, take it!

I'm going to try to put in a link to the trailer. http://www.asweforgivemovie.com/trailer.htm

Before going to see the documentary, I met some of my fabulous co-workers for some Friday food and fun. As we were sitting around laughing about the craziness that is working in a high school, my friend and I started talking about the challenge of being your true self around people. It made me think of this storyline in Scrubs when Carla and Elliot are discussing new relationships. Elliot tells Carla that she can't hide her crazy side from her new love interest any more. Carla encourages her to keep hiding it. Here is a small bit of Carla's advice. It always just makes me laugh pretty hard. Thought is would be a nice addition to your Friday night. Have a lovely weekend.

Thoughts on settling and trust...

2009-05-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

A friend and I were discussing relationships (it was more of a theoretical/philosophical discussion than a "isn't so-and-so cute" type of conversation) a while back. Nice vague topic, huh? We were both preparing to celebrate birthdays, so the past was on our minds. We talked about how we know ourselves so much better now than we did "back in the day" and how that changes what we are looking for now compared to college relationships. And I think it's true. But I also noticed that my fears about relationships have changed over the year. When I was in high school, I think I feared that I would pick the wrong one. In graduate school, I began to worry that a time would come when I might be tempted to "settle" for less than what I really wanted. Now that I'm older, I am realizing that I'm more afraid of being on the other end of the settling scenario. But I'm realizing that it's hard to be really sure you are avoiding that. I mean how do you ever really know? And that's when I realized what it all comes down to...trust. And that's hard to do...to trust someone. I don't think I worry about this because I have self-esteem issues or feel unworthy or any other Dr. Phil-esque reason. It's actually the opposite. I am finally at an age where I like myself enough to not want to be with someone who is with me for convenience. It reminds me of an Alison Kraus song--"Take Me for Longing." I'm branching out again and trying to put a youtube clip of the song on here. I'm becoming so adventurous with my blog! :) Am I the only one who fears this? Clearly there are at least two of us--me and Alison! And being with Alison can't be bad company.

Things I found while cleaning out my closet...

2009-05-23T19:39:00.000-07:00

1. A pair of flip-flops I had been looking for

2. A pair of flip-flops I had forgotten I owned

3. My prom picture in its special frame...still not really sure what this is doing in my closet in DC. Seems like something that should be in a box somewhere at my parents' house...

4. Oh--and a mouse. Yep. And not a dead one. As I sat on the floor, it scurried by me. I, of course, squealed like a little girl, jumped up and did the "ewww gross!" shiver, and called home. My mom assured me that the mouse was more scared of me than I was of it, but I'm still not convinced. She also claims that my fears of contracting bubonic plague from the mouse are unfounded. But I am also not convinced of this. Given the 3-day weekend, I had to take matters into my own hands since the maintenance guys wouldn't be around to do anything to solve the problem until Tuesday. I have now learned how to set a mouse trap...or 4. I don't care how many Stuart Little movies they make or how many times I watch American Tale--those things are not cute--they're gross. Here's hoping the mouse trap works in the least disgusting way possible. Or as my mom tried to convince me, maybe the mouse was just checking my place out on the way to someone else's apartment.

On another note, I also spent some time getting my kitchen cabinets in order. How in the world did I end up with this much baking chocolate?

Own it!

2009-05-12T13:50:00.000-07:00

I saw a link to this blog entry the other day. I think the guy is on to something. Let me know what you think... (this is my first attempt to link to something, so let's hope it works...)

Bodily functions and Teacher Appreciation...

2009-05-01T10:11:00.001-07:00

I know, I know... it's been a while. I have TONS to report. Races I've run, cupcakes I've baked, and historic sites I've visited. But all of that will have to wait until I upload new pictures on my home computer. Instead, I have decided to mark my return to the blogging world by discussing another milestone in my life...my first experience with a student puking in class. Now, to others this might not seem like such a big deal, but in my family it's huge. My sister and I have somehow both acquired a huge phobia of puke. I'm not really sure why, and my sister's fears make mine look minor, but we both fear it. All that to say, that since the day I was student teaching and heard a girl barf in the hallway, I've been dreading the first time this happened in my room. Now I no longer have to fear it--it has happened, and I survived. I always thought, that like many things in life, once it happened once it wouldn't be such a big deal. I guess my fear of puke may have actually made me more prepared for the big moment. I actually had already planned out in my head what I would do if a student started losing their lunch during class...everyone needs an exit strategy, right?

So what happened you ask? It was actually a rather minor event. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, the girl got sick right before lunch. This meant the cleaning crew had 30 minutes to clean it up before we had to be back in my classroom. Unfortunately I couldn't eat much of my lunch since I had just witnessed such a disturbing event. :) All that to say, I survived, I didn't vomit myself, and I even was able to keep it together enough to get her a trashcan, call the front office, and go to lunch. All in all, I think it went as well as can be expected. And now I know it's not that bad.

I'm leaving you with an ecard I got on Twitter the other day. Clearly these people don't understand the trauma teachers go through during those nine months. Maybe if they read the above post, they would reconsider their view of teachers. :) Happy Friday!

Voting and Maturity...

2009-02-28T08:33:00.000-08:00

My students and I have been practicing telling people what we think without telling them "I think." It's been fun to watch them see how easy it is to sound more professional by simply leaving out the "I" in their papers. In an effort to "practice" the other day, the bellwork assignment was to write 3-4 sentences answering the following question without using I think, I feel, or I believe. (Side note--it was pretty funny to hear the kids who had been absent the day before say, "How am I supposed to do that?" and hear the other students reply, "Just say it.") The question was: Should the voting age be changed from 18 to 16? Several of them brought up interesting points--like the fact that high schoolers sometimes end up being more informed than their adult counterparts because teachers make them research, or at least discuss, current events. But what really surprised me was how many of them were willing to admit that 16-year-olds are not ready to vote. They noted that teenagers sometimes don't really think things out or are too easily influenced to make that kind of decision. I was impressed with their willingness to admit they weren't fully ready for adulthood yet. I love it when they surprise me!

The new era of politics...

2009-02-10T05:28:00.000-08:00

has lasted approximately two weeks. Now we are back to things that work better. We, as Americans, have chosen hope over fear. That is until one party is having a hard time getting some legislation passed. Then we go back to fear--because, let's be honest, it is a more effective technique. (Example: We must pass this bill now or the economy with collapse.)

Okay--let me clarify something. I really am not associated with a party, and I really am not looking for our newly elected president to fail. I listened to Pres. Obama's acceptance speech and his inaugural address, and read the press on his first few executive orders. I was impressed; I was hopeful I would be pleasantly surprised with the new administration. I was optimistic that he would be different and truly attempt to make positive changes. Over the last few days I have been disappointed...not so much in his legislation as in the rhetoric he is using to get his legislation passed. He seems to be falling back on logical fallacies--something that even as a first year composition teacher at a state school I repeatedly told my students to avoid. I told them that logical fallacies were the defenses of the lazy, that they were used by those unwilling to do the hard work of making the truth convincing. So you can imagine my surprise and disappointment this morning as, on NPR no less, I hear my new President using such cheap shots. I know he is a very intelligent man, so I fear I can't honestly believe it was an accident. You would like an example you say? Okay.

A brief introduction to logical fallacies:

1. Ad Hominem: Attacking the person instead of the issue at hand.
Example: Saying that you invited someone over to your place to discuss your bill, and they are still being blatantly partisan by not voting for it. This is not a logical argument. Now if you invited the person over and they kicked your dog, this argument would work. But feeding someone a meal or coffee does not obligate them to agree with you on a $800 billion bill.

2. Straw Man: Misrepresenting another person's viewpoint and then attacking that position.
Example: Saying that the other side is saying we should do nothing in the crisis when actually the other side wants to do something, just not your idea. This is also not a logical argument. Now saying that the other side's plan of action is less effective than yours would work.

3. False Dilemma or Either/Or Fallacy: Building your case by claiming there are only two choices when actually there are many possibilities.
Example: Saying that members of congress either want to pass your bill or sit back and do nothing when some members of congress just want to make sure the bill is a good one.
Bonus Example: Saying that members of congress either support your bill or are clinging to old partisan politics when some of them just truly think it's a bad idea. This is yet again illogical. Now if we were discussing the federal budget and the old budget was going to expire the next day, these arguments would work.

I am by no means saying he is the first to use these techniques, and he will certainly not be the last. My dear, sweet former roommates can testify to the fact that I spent many a morning getting up in arms about Pres. Bush's blatant use of logical fallacies, and if I had known about them when Pres. Clinton was in office, it probably would have been a similar story. I guess my disappointment is that I was promised something different. I was promised that these techniques would be a thing of the past. And heaven knows if the Republicans were in charge, they would probably be doing the same thing and they probably use them in speeches on the House floor all the time. But Mr. Obama is the one with the most important microphone, so I just tend to notice his logical fallacies first. I'm just disappointed that bad rhetoric and intentionally faulty logic are being used again.

Perfect Sunday...

2009-02-08T14:29:00.000-08:00

I'm currently sitting on my floor, reading a fabulous book, and listening to the joyful giggles as the toddler that lives at the end of my hall runs up and down the hall.

It's one of those perfect Sunday afternoons...sunny and 63, I just got back from a great run, and now I'm in a bit of English-major heaven.

Respect, Admiration, and High Schoolers...

2009-01-29T18:52:00.000-08:00

I've been reading a TON of my students' work lately. Grades are due in the next few days. By far the most interesting reading has been my students' freewriting on who they admire. We are currently working on the beginning of our research papers (I say we because I'm writing with them--I am becoming more and more convinced that this is something every teacher needs to do. It helps me know how effective or ineffective an assignment is, and it gives me a serious dose of sympathy for my writers. But anyway...back to the topic at hand...)

The research assignment is to come up with someone they think should go on the "Ms. Taylor's Wall of Fame." They can choose anyone they want as long as they can find enough research on the person; I'm researching Frank McCourt. They are going to have to write a persuasive research paper explaining why that person is worthy of the wall (they also have to come up with a title--mine is "Best Teacher-Turned-Writer") I've never done this before--we'll see how it turns out. They are going to have to present their person to the class, and each class will vote to put one person on the wall. I'll try to remember to let you know who the first five inductions into the "Wall of Fame" are.

In an effort to get the wheels of their minds turning, we spent last Friday freewriting about people we admire. We started with people we knew and slowly started to go farther and farther out of our everyday world. The most amazing part wasn't how many of them love Lil' Wayne or how many of them said that to get respect you have to give respect, it was who was first on their lists of people they respect. I would say that at least 3/4 of them first listed one or both of their parents. Almost all of them mentioned some older family member. It was just such a reassuring moment. They really do notice all that their parents do for them and all that their parents sacrifice to provide a better life for them. And they also really notice and respect their parents' hard work and effort to succeed.

I think I just loved reading these entries because I think all too often teenagers are seen as selfish, self-centered creatures that don't appreciate anything. But, I think, when given the chance, teenagers are much more perceptive than we give them credit for. And they really do look up to their parents.

So there--all parents of teenagers, former parents of teenagers, and future parents of teenagers--Don't lose heart. They do appreciate you; they just can't admit it all the time--cause that's would hurt their images.

Ankute, I John, and God's love...

2009-01-21T20:23:00.000-08:00

Tonight at Bible study we were discussing God's love as discussed in I John. One of the questions was about how our assurance of God's love changes us and how it affects the way we love others. As we talked about the amazing power of God's love, I kept thinking about this little kiddo named Ankute. He is probably my new favorite kid. I don't actually know him, I just read his mom's blog. Oh, but I digress. Anyway, this little guy is a 3-year-old Ethiopian orphan who has recently been adopted by an American family. His adoptive mom was talking the other day about how he sometimes worries about there not being enough food. If others get seconds, he worries they will eat it all. As he spends more time in his new home, he starts to believe that there will be enough food.

I think God's love works in a similar way. All too often we are like Ankute and the food. We are so worried that there won't be enough. That our needs won't be met, that we will want without being able to have. And so we spend our time watching out for more. But if we truly understand God's love, we are able to reach out, to love others. We are able to do this because we can trust in His love. We are able to believe that His love is enough, our needs are/will be met. Then we are free--free to give away love, free to live life with an eye out for others' needs.

Things I saw while using public transportation...

2009-01-21T20:15:00.000-08:00

1. A man in a cowboy hat with a half-smoked, unlit cigar in his mouth, riding the metro

2. A duck. Yep, that's right. I saw a duck sitting on the sidewalk next to the escalator. Not really sure how a duck finds itself in the middle of DC or why it decides to sit with three homeless men by the metro stop, but Kelly and I both decided it seemed rather comfortable there. Not walking around, not looking for food, just sitting on the sidewalk.

An Inauguration Experience...

2009-01-20T17:57:00.000-08:00

This is by far my most memorable inauguration. The wonderful people at my parents' congressman's office set me up with two tickets to the inauguration. I invited my friend Todd (the biggest Obama fan I knew). Here is my picture book of the last few days.

I went on Monday to pick up my tickets. It was a peaceful experience for the most part. The metro stop was a bit crazy. It was actually so crazy that the metro person finally just started letting us all go without using our cards to make it go faster. You can't really tell how packed it was...

I got to the house office buildings to find quite a bit of a line. I called up to the congressman's office to make sure I was in the right place. The awesomely kind person who answered the phone (aka my hero of the day...) offered to bring my tickets to me. I think this saved me approximately 3 hours of waiting to get in. (Someone said that the news reported a 3 hour wait to get tickets.) AWESOME!!! I was ecstatic to have avoided such a crazy way to spend the afternoon.

So with my handy dandy invitations to the inauguration in my little mittens, I got back on the metro. (using a different metro stop--note the difference!)

Back at my place, I packed every imaginable layer. This included: running tights, compression shirt, smart wool socks, extra socks, jeans, long sleeve shirt, fleece pullover, and both layers of my fake North Face coat. Yep--I was set. And then some of us met for dinner before heading out.

Todd's awesome friend let us crash at his place in DC so we wouldn't have to try to get into the city Tuesday morning. It was a great plan.

We got to DC, hung out for a while, and then got all settled into our sleeping bags. Fun times!

At 7ish the next morning, we put on those well-thought-out layers and set out.

We walked,

and walked,

and walked some more.

We stood in a line, and then some more lines...

After walking, standing in lines, and asking as many questions as possible, we got...nowhere.

We had been without food and water for hours...we had been smushed by all kinds of people. It was a sad way to spend the day. We finally split my Cliff Bar I had stored away.

At 11:35 we admitted defeat. We couldn't get to any point that would let us in. Everything was either a gate to the parade, or a fence with no gate, or the wrong gate.

In a moment of divine intervention, at 11:35, we stumbled upon the house office buildings. We called up to my parents' congressman's office to see if they could direct us to a place where we could at least see the speech. Out of the kindness of their hearts, they invited us up. I was so glad to see the Arkansas flag that I actually started cheering and skipping to the door.

They gave us water, Diet Coke, and Little Debbies. And most importantly, they let us sit in their nice chairs and watch their TVs. So there you have it. We watched the 44th President being sworn in from a congressman's office. I think it makes for a good story. And I have to give much thanks to my parents' congressman's office.

And that is how I spent my day. The rest was not so eventful. We quickly jumped on the metro on the opposite side of the capitol and were able to get home rather quickly.

Thoughts on "hope"...

2009-01-10T12:54:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking about hope lately. How hope is defined, how we find hope, and who can really offer us hope. I came into my local coffee house today to find they were selling "inauguration" cookies. The lovely cookies had one word written on them--hope. This has become a word strangely synonymous with our soon-to-be president, and I'm not totally sure how I feel about that. On one hand, I think it is good to hope--good to hope that things can and will get better. Good to hope that people really can make a difference. Good to hope that traditions, mindsets, obstacles can change. I find it a good thing to hope for all of these. But I also worry about hope. Worry that sometimes we put all of our hope in people, circumstances, words. I'm not sure that something as powerful and vital as hope can be managed by something as small as a person. Or even a group of people. Partly I think this because hopes are so easily dashed and regaining hope is so hard. So I worry about putting hope in a person. And even if our new leader is able to fulfill all that we hope for him, is it enough? Can hope--something that is so insatiable--ever be fulfilled by anything in the temporary, unpredictable world full of flawed humans? And when hopes are dashed, what then? I pray with every fiber of my being that Obama is able to turn things around--that he brings in a new era and that my generation will regain hope in America, politics, humanity. But what happens when a flawed human eventually does what flawed humans do? What happens when he makes a mistake, honest or otherwise? If he is the poster child for hope and he fails, what happens to hope?

As a Christian, I believe hopes can only be satisfied in a realm beyond the physical world. And I believe that only the One who created us with the desperate need to hope and have hopes fulfilled can truly meet all that we hope for. (Some other day, probably when I am once again surrounded by rain and am full of cold medicine, I will tackle my thoughts on the constant state of hope and expectation that we find ourselves in.) I sit here thinking that the only way for us to continue to have the courage to hope--to take the huge risk of placing our hearts in such a scary position, is to know that He who we hope in and for is the One who never fails, who never leaves us, who isn't part of the flawed, sinful, disappointing world we find ourselves in. So there's that. I struggle daily to place my hope in Him. To believe that He is in charge of this world. That my hopes for both the simple/physical things (completing my marathon training, overcoming my fear of failing) and the spiritual/complex (a heart's healing, a selfless mindset) are not wasted when placed in Him. I hope with assurance that He has already written the end to my story and the conclusion of this crazy tale of humanity that I am such a tiny part of.

Revelations while driving a nice car...

2008-12-28T22:11:00.000-08:00

So while I've been home, I've been driving my dad's car. He graciously lets me drive his lovely vehicle since I flew home, and calling Razorback Cab isn't really a good option. As I drive his delightful mid-sized SUV, I think to myself, "Self, this is a really nice car. It is so nice to drive this lovely vehicle." Then the pleasant feeling changes to the following realization, "Self, your career choice guarantees you will never drive such a nice automobile." Then I take a moment, attempt to be a gracious and charitable person, channel the last cheesy teacher bumpersticker I saw, and say to myself, "That's okay. You do it for the children." And with that note, I am off to bed.

I heart (down)hills!

2008-12-12T18:35:00.001-08:00

I have recently discovered the long lengths I will go to for a chance to run down hill. Yep--that's right. I am sure a more experienced runner would appreciated the value of uphill, but I'm not there yet. I am starting to learn my environment which means I am learning where the good hills are and how to get the downhill without having to run up the full-force hill. I'm sure someday I'll take on the challenge of running up. But that day is not today. Today I am just putting in the miles. :) Even if those miles are in search of more downhills.

Sunday I am running my first 10k. I survived my first 5-miler; it just seemed like the next thing to do. It also means that I can try to qualify for the National Marathon in March. Wish me luck. This will be the first time I've actually had to run fast...in my whole life...

So here's wishing you a lovely holiday season full of family, good food, and (down)hills.

Ready to Trot...

2008-11-27T05:34:00.000-08:00

I'm off to Trot in the Turkey Trot. This will be my first race--which is sad since I've been "running" on and off since college. It really should be fun, but right now I'm just really nervous. I'm not even sure why. If I hate it, I can just walk. Oh well--now I have to go walk to the start line (how awesome is that?). See you when I am no longer a racing virgin. Yippee!

Tagged...

2008-11-20T18:20:00.000-08:00

So, I've never been tagged before. I am supposed to post my fourth picture in the fourth photo file on my computer. So here you go: I took this at Youth Writer's Camp 2 years ago. I loved that camp. I was really involved in the Middle Tennessee Writing Project for 3 years, and this camp is one of the main things I did. Every summer I spent two weeks helping young writers between the ages of 11-16 to really work on their craft. More than anything, we just gave them a place to work, time to write, and peers to give feedback. I learned so much from watching these young writers invest in their own writing. I always came away with new ideas and a renewed passion for working on my own projects.

PS-- A cat is currently curled up on my lap. If you know me, you know that I am NOT a cat person. But this little one just might win me over. My friend Megan is making a pit stop in my apartment on her journey from NYC back to Nashville. While here, her sweet cat is making friends with me.

Water is your friend.

2008-11-19T20:41:00.000-08:00

Therefore, lack of water is your enemy. This is something I was vividly reminded of while doing fartleks tonight. (Yeah, I know. It totally sounds like a name middle school boys would call each other.) As I was running my guts out, my lovely workout came to a screeching halt when my body finally realized I didn't really give it enough water to do what I was asking of it. As my stomach started to cramp, I realized how little water I had consumed today. So, lesson learned--I will make sure to put more water in before running it all out.

Me and my fashion debut...

2008-11-13T20:10:00.000-08:00

or at least the debut of my skirt. So tonight I was spending some quality time with Tim Gunn. (That guy cracks me up--I am currently working on mastering his voice!) As I'm watching him tear apart and rebuild a woman's wardrobe, I notice he is taking her to my beloved Banana Republic. (I worked there for 6 months last year.) I was so excited because I kept seeing clothes I had spent plenty of time with. And then the coolest thing happened--the girl was wearing my skirt (not actually mine of course--but I had to bust out an "I own that!") on the fashion show "runway." For a brief moment I felt like a fashion genius. This feeling will fade tomorrow morning when I stare at my closet while trying to decide what to wear to school (this decision may be heavily influenced by which items require the least amount of ironing...and will be drastically limited by the fact that I can't pick up my dry cleaning until after school tomorrow).

Successful Cookie Adventures...

2008-11-11T20:07:00.000-08:00

Two posts in one day--clearly I do not have enough to do! Or I'm just really excited about having a functioning computer. So the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies were a success (if I do say so myself). I've never cooked/baked with pumpkin before (at least not that I remember), but I will definitely have to spend more time working with fall foods. I think I would really like to try to be more seasonal in my cooking--taking advantage of the fruits/veggies that naturally grow during each season; it seems like a fun challenge to take advantage of what's out there at the moment. We'll see how that works. In the meantime, I have a whole other can of pumpkin to play with! I am leaving you with a few attempts at taking artsy picks of my Veteran's Day accomplishment. Unfortunately cookies are not very photogenic. Bummer!

A day off in Adultland...

2008-11-11T11:17:00.001-08:00

You know you are an adult when, on your day off from work, you spend your time taking your car to get new brakes and dropping off your dry cleaning. I am now heading down to my apartment's office to tell them that the water coming out of my shower smells funny---and no--it's not me...it's the water. I promise!

But after that I am going to get supplies to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. Now that's what makes a day off totally worth it. That's all I have to say...

A girl and her cupcake...

2008-11-09T18:05:00.000-08:00

Tonight was a delightful night. I went to a lovely coffee shop with a new friend--Sarah. We sat and chatted about life, work, human nature, and the likes over some yummy bruchetta and hot chocolate. I had a delightful time. Before we made it to the bruchetta, as we were walking from our parking spot to the coffee shop, we spotted a cake store. Anyone who knows me knows that I am incapable of resisting cake, so we popped in. I decided to pick up a cupcake for later--white cake with raspberry icing. I was especially excited about this particular purchase because the girl working behind the counter reminded me to wait about 10 minutes to eat the cupcake so it would have a chance to reach room temperature--cold cupcakes are criminal. This kind of instruction made me think these people understand cake! So...I took my new treat with me to the coffee shop and put it on the table. We were halfway back to the car when Sarah says, "You got your cupcake, right?" I simultaneously blurted out, "NO!" and took off running/scurrying back to the shop. As I got there, I glance over to see the tragic scene--new people sitting at our table and no little paper bag. Fortunately not all was lost--when I ask the hostess about it, I must have looked sad and forlorn. She went back to the kitchen and came back with my bag--looking a bit rougher than I remembered. Sarah and I decided it would be best to just assume it had been sitting on a counter top somewhere. When I got back home--I fully enjoyed my little treat. It was TOTALLY worth the frantic scurrying across the street!

How to get a new clock...

2008-11-05T13:06:00.000-08:00

Due to some unfortunate events in 3rd period (high schoolers sometimes think they are taller than they actually are and more agile as well...that's all I'll say about that...), I was in need of a new clock. This is how to get a clock:

1. Take clock to the assistant principal's office at the end of your hall. Here you will find you need to speak to someone in the main office.
2. Take clock to the main office. Here you will discover that you need to meet someone at the loading dock.
3. Walk towards loading dock. Realize you are not completely sure you know where the loading dock is. Take clock to the security desk to ascertain where the loading dock is.
4. After the kind folks at the security desk confirm that the people at the loading dock have a clock, head to the loading dock according to your newly acquire directions.
5. Trade in broken clock for shiny, new, accurate clock.
6. Take new clock to classroom. Here you will find that the screw in the wall doesn't like the new clock.
7. Head back to loading dock, but instead have the very helpful hall monitor call to have someone come help you in your classroom.
8. Stand around and watch as helpful person fixes new clock to be compatible with old screw.
9. Sit in your desk and smile at the shiny, new, accurate clock on your classroom wall.

The girl...

2008-11-02T14:51:00.000-08:00

So...I'm a girl. Sometimes people forget this, but it's true. I am currently sitting at a fabulous coffee shop/bakery--eating cake, grading papers, listening to good music..and I'll admit it, occasionally eyeing the cute boy sitting at the table across from me. I can't help it, he's cute. I think he might be eyeing me too. But I'm really bad about picking up on clues like that. And even if he was checking me out, how do you make a move on that?

The sad part of this story is how little game I have. You wanna know what I just did in response to the cute boy looking at me? I decided to add some of my strawberry lip gloss to my lips. How sad is that? Awe--he's just so cute with his Sunday scruff, blazer, and baseball cap. :) Okay--back to giving my students constructive responses to their thoughts on To Kill a Mockingbird.

New beginnings...what an original title...

2008-10-29T05:42:00.000-07:00

So, once again, I am starting a new blog. I kind of think blogs should be focused on specific phases of life. Although I do need to rekindle my relationship with vocab words and start up my vocab blog again...oh...right...back to what I was talking about. So I am starting this new blog for a new phase of my life. I recently moved to a new area, started a new job, and am in the process of forming new friendships. I thought this blog might be a good way for my friends from far away to see what's going on in my life. This will also, I hope, give me a place to play with words and thoughts as I head out on this new adventure. The next blog entry is actually old--I wrote it on the first day of school but delayed posting it for various reasons. So here you go...Thanks for reading.

Selflessness and Teaching

2008-09-09T20:31:00.000-07:00

The older I get, and the more I teach, the more I realize that teaching (in its truest form) is a selfless act. I am not saying that all of us are selfless or that every moment we teach we are caring for the future, but I am talking about teaching in its ideal state--what I strive for as I develop as a teacher. I choose to give up my goals in life to help someone else reach theirs. Time I would spend writing my own short story I spend reading a student's essay. I choose to think less about what I want to do and more about what will most benefit my student. Today I had a kid walk out of my class. And the real kicker was that he waved his hand in front of my face as he was doing it. I don't know about other people, but I am a "no touchy" kind of person. I don't like people in my personal space, let alone in my personal space for a hostile reason. So the selfish part of me wanted to call him out in front of the whole class--to humiliate him and let everyone in the room know that I was in charge. But that isn't what teaching is about. It's not about asserting my power or control--it's about helping students on their way to becoming full-fledge members of the human race. There will be plenty of people in life who put them in their place. My job is to chose my battles with them, so that in those moments when they really can hear me, I'll have the grounding to speak the truth to them. Don't get me wrong--I turned the kid in for skipping my class...and everyone in the room knew that. I just decided to hold off on pulling rank until it mattered for a reason more important than my ego.