The beautifully paved, forested path in Central Park (a manicured version of the real thing) complete with landscapers and slithering creeps is quizzical. Magical in the the kiss of summer and the whisper of fall, but almost poisonous in its juxtaposition. Alice in Wonderland, Oz, all of it luxury--but unreal, because it is afterall, largely unnatural. Walking foot over foot through the foliage observing every now and then, the curious New Yorkers with their accents and clothes. They are just like the display windows, only touchable in this setting. I'm sightseeing, taking it in, enjoying myself on vacation, but then in an instant everything changed.
A curious black little spec hovered carelessly in the air. A simple fly completing its lifecycle that lasts about a day perhaps. It was nothing and yet I noticed it. Obviously, it was a sick fly because it was flying as though it was intoxicated. Figures, it being a New York fly and all. And then, with the audacity of a sassy teenager, the translucent orange glow was unmistakingly spectacular in its simplicity. Was that? I had to see it again! Running, screaming, laughing down the path like a crazed New Yorker. Hey, do they come in different colors? Like jolly ranchers, like lights at Christmas, like a child's delight over the simplest occurence, icecream? It was worth a million birthdays at least. I ran through them and they flashed on and off. And to think, I thought it was a diseased fly.
Off the island of Maui, suspended from my parachute, being kissed by the ocean and toted through the air alongside the mooga mooga birds with a tummyfull of sweet pineapple. The rain? A simple mist that we try to replicate at home by purchasing a garden hose full of millions of holes and hang from the patio. Sweet in its attempt to recreate the experience, but hopelessly silly. And how can it be? One amazing thing after another? I'd just seen hundreds of spotted dolphins that same day play in the clear, kool-aid blue ocean. A manta ray breeched, leapt into the air like a whirling pancake and I'd seen it off the boat. I'd floated in the ocean, alongside a hundred other souls thinking it was weird because you could really drown, it was so big. Enormous. I didn't even comprehend enormous until then.
And now, today of all days my birthday, December 14th is really the moment of truth isn't it? I woke up with a certain sense of oh my gosh, its just another day, carry-on and whatever you do don't expect too much. Well, the whole birthday surprise thing is suspicious, isn't it? Wonderous things happen to other people who think just the right thoughts and are serious, and mostly perfect. You know the ones I'm talking about. They drive cars that don't ever break down, they don't have any cavities, and their clothes are never ever wrinkled.
Believe it or not, I'm the one, who gets the plain papered box, from ebay that's empty. The shipper says, no I put what you bought in there! So I take a picture of an empty box and email it. See? Technology at work.
I'm the one with the lottery ticket that doesn't even get one damn number on the day the statistics professor is giving a lecture on why the lottery is a waste of money (mathmatically speaking) of course. And I sit there, shaking my head thinking why am I so stupid? Even though it only costs a dollar, I've wasted a dollar, and I'm probably doomed because he's lecturing about it and... my gawd this lottery ticket is burning a hole right through my pocket. It might as well be up on the board flashing before our eyes. And oh yea, I'll end up with C or D on the probability test, because instead of learning probability I'm thinking about this damned lottery ticket. Curse you.
I'm the one who gets a rock - just like Charlie Brown on Halloween. Usually we all just laugh and toss the rocks and go buy a bunch of candybars, because all my friends get rocks too, but not this year. This year was totally different! I opened up the box and it just so happened, that what I thought was an empty box, full of losing lottery tickets, and rocks was really full of something that I just couldn't see.
Dreams my friend, dreams.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Black Market Final
I gave a final last night. Everyone seemed in good spirits except one student, "Old Man River." I've learned a lot from Old Man River this term. He's about 70 years old and has absolutely no patience with anyone in the class. He absolutely hates computers and to tell you the truth I do not understand why he is even taking a computer class. He tells me that they use computers for everything and has no choice. He waves his arms in surrender as his tells me this every class period over the last 15 weeks.
We have had many conferences. I learned that he hates group work, hates that the class is noisy, and does not think that I am stern enough. He told me that we do way too many activities. Anyway, he walked into the classroom about 15 minutes late for the final. I graciously handed him the final. He looked at it for 1 minute and then he left. I think he took the final with him! Anyway, I felt bad. Everyone said, "such a waste." He won't get credit now.
Let me tell you though, I don't think it was a total waste. That man had more fun doing research and googling then anyone in the class. He told me some fabulous stories about Paris, France. One of the course assignments is to use the internet to plan a dream vacation. In my demonstration, I show the students how I choose to visit Paris, France. We use a search engine to locate famous landmarks and cut and paste these landmarks to make an itinerary using a wordprocessor. Old Man River seemed delighted with the assignment and he went wild with the search engine.
He spent an hour after class telling me that Paris, used to be a relatively cheap place for him to visit before the dollar went into the toliet. He would smuggle one thing or another into Paris (he didn't say what) and sell it on the black market. He spent weeks there enjoying himself with his lady friends and only had smuggle in one or two little things. I liked the way he would smile and his clouded blue eyes would get big when he told these stories. He talked about riding a motor bike and drinking. I watched this man completely struggle with his assginment, but he got it done, and he seemed rather pleased with himself.
There are many days when Old Man River was grumpy. He said he didn't think he wanted to be a "worker". He didn't like all the requirements and BS that went along with taking college classes. I thought he meant "worker" in the Marxist sense. I could tell that Old Man River was no worker from the very first day of class. He did things when and if he felt like it. He took his time. He told me many stories about his civil disobedience and hunger striking fasts from the past. I told him that I liked my burgers and there was no way I'd be giving them up. I'm not sure if he found this amusing or not.
He would often criticize me for not knowing what life was really like before computers. He almost found it a disservice that I'd grown up curious about mainframes, and working on a Commmodore 64. He just thought I didn't understand, that I couldn't comprehend what life was like. It was almost like he felt that I was at least a couple of standard deviations away from really understanding him. He took it upon himself to stay after class to tell me what he thought of my teaching and how he felt everyone responded.
"You gotta put your foot down. End this group work business."
"Why? the research says that group work is good for students. We all learn from one another. Besides, that's one of the advantages of being together as community of learners."
Blank stare from Old Man River. He'd think for a moment and begin again.
"You go from activity to activity like a little hummingbird."
"But, we only did 3 activities in 2 hours"
"Too Many"
"Perhaps" He'd watch me deflate, and understand that his lecture had the desired affect on me.
He'd say, "I gotta get home now."
I'd drive home with all those comments reeling in my head. Why oh why, do I let this man get to me? On some level could he be right?
So now, as I grade my finals, I don't really have anything to grade for Old Man River.
In the back of my mind, I know that he is out there somewhere with a hard copy of my final. It won't be sold on the black market in Paris, but something tells me that I'd better change it next term. I mean, if I learned one thing from this man. Its that I can't underestimate Old Man River.
We have had many conferences. I learned that he hates group work, hates that the class is noisy, and does not think that I am stern enough. He told me that we do way too many activities. Anyway, he walked into the classroom about 15 minutes late for the final. I graciously handed him the final. He looked at it for 1 minute and then he left. I think he took the final with him! Anyway, I felt bad. Everyone said, "such a waste." He won't get credit now.
Let me tell you though, I don't think it was a total waste. That man had more fun doing research and googling then anyone in the class. He told me some fabulous stories about Paris, France. One of the course assignments is to use the internet to plan a dream vacation. In my demonstration, I show the students how I choose to visit Paris, France. We use a search engine to locate famous landmarks and cut and paste these landmarks to make an itinerary using a wordprocessor. Old Man River seemed delighted with the assignment and he went wild with the search engine.
He spent an hour after class telling me that Paris, used to be a relatively cheap place for him to visit before the dollar went into the toliet. He would smuggle one thing or another into Paris (he didn't say what) and sell it on the black market. He spent weeks there enjoying himself with his lady friends and only had smuggle in one or two little things. I liked the way he would smile and his clouded blue eyes would get big when he told these stories. He talked about riding a motor bike and drinking. I watched this man completely struggle with his assginment, but he got it done, and he seemed rather pleased with himself.
There are many days when Old Man River was grumpy. He said he didn't think he wanted to be a "worker". He didn't like all the requirements and BS that went along with taking college classes. I thought he meant "worker" in the Marxist sense. I could tell that Old Man River was no worker from the very first day of class. He did things when and if he felt like it. He took his time. He told me many stories about his civil disobedience and hunger striking fasts from the past. I told him that I liked my burgers and there was no way I'd be giving them up. I'm not sure if he found this amusing or not.
He would often criticize me for not knowing what life was really like before computers. He almost found it a disservice that I'd grown up curious about mainframes, and working on a Commmodore 64. He just thought I didn't understand, that I couldn't comprehend what life was like. It was almost like he felt that I was at least a couple of standard deviations away from really understanding him. He took it upon himself to stay after class to tell me what he thought of my teaching and how he felt everyone responded.
"You gotta put your foot down. End this group work business."
"Why? the research says that group work is good for students. We all learn from one another. Besides, that's one of the advantages of being together as community of learners."
Blank stare from Old Man River. He'd think for a moment and begin again.
"You go from activity to activity like a little hummingbird."
"But, we only did 3 activities in 2 hours"
"Too Many"
"Perhaps" He'd watch me deflate, and understand that his lecture had the desired affect on me.
He'd say, "I gotta get home now."
I'd drive home with all those comments reeling in my head. Why oh why, do I let this man get to me? On some level could he be right?
So now, as I grade my finals, I don't really have anything to grade for Old Man River.
In the back of my mind, I know that he is out there somewhere with a hard copy of my final. It won't be sold on the black market in Paris, but something tells me that I'd better change it next term. I mean, if I learned one thing from this man. Its that I can't underestimate Old Man River.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Tis' the Season
Hard to believe that full-fledged winter is upon us. A friend of mine reminded me that I haven't posted anything. I call myself a writer and I fail to write anything at all. Lots of things occur upstairs in my brain, but do I write about them? Negative. So, now that I've been reminded of my blog I'll post to it. Maybe someone on earth will read it. Doubtful, but it could happen.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The Biggest Piece of Meat
As someone who is recently divorced. I have spent the last few months trying to figure out what happened. I'm not sure if I have come to any conclusions. For what good it is, I have decided to write and publish my thoughts on the subject here. I've decided that it is cathartic to get these thoughts completely out of my system. I'm hoping that this brings me some peace. To the extent that it may help someone searching for answers about their own personal relationship and assisting them to coming to a conclusion this wasn't my intention, but if that happens I'd be pleased. For those of you I inevitably piss off. My apologies. If you don't like it, then don't read it.
I know that for some, the reasons of a divorce are private. Its something that you do not publicly discuss. Things just didn't work out and that happens 50% of the time here in US if the figures I've read are correct. I'm coming to believe that we should be more open about things. That there are times when privacy leads to misunderstanding and fear. That in order to come clean there are issues that are simply not private and maybe we should reconsider evaluating and discussing them openly. I also know that when people find out that you have divorced they begin to draw their own conclusions and gossip about you. I can only guess that its related to the whole privacy conundrum that I mentioned earlier and people feeling like they couldn't discuss it with you in the first place.
Before my formal divorce was underway, I had begun reading Laura Berman. She writes about women's sexuality and relationships. I listened to her just recently on Oprah and suddenly a light went on for me. Now, I know that Laura Berman may be a sore subject. I gave my ex some CD's of hers to listen to and he nearly went ballistic about it. He articulated that he already knew all of this stuff and I was the one who needed to listen. Well, if you don't like it don't listen, but I believe she says a lot of relevant things that men should know about and feel comfortable with.
On the Oprah Show, Laura Berman articulated that in evolutionary terms women looked for men who were able to provide them (and their young) with the largest piece of meat. Now that women don't necessarily need men to provide them with that, she said that it will be interesting to see how it impacts our relationships.
Unfortunately, the way that we worked through it was that I paid the bills and he needed to pay his half. Over time, I realized that it might be easier if I simply became the responsible one. I came to hate nagging him to pay. As I became more responsible and more financially successful I felt less enthused about my marriage. I could pay the bills by myself. This wasn't the outcome, I was working so hard for and now a decade had gone by. Yes, I wasted an entire decade!
Now that the bills were paid my ex-husband complained about affection. I couldn't see what he was moaning about. Shouldn't he be happy that his wife was taking on a majority of the financial burden? Shouldn't he be happy that he was allowed to pursue his vocational dreams, which included owning a non-profitable car business for several years? In any case, I completely withdrew physically from the relationship. "No meat = no affection" was my instinctive calculation. I didn't withdraw consciously, it was a subconscious thing for me. I couldn't figure out what was wrong no matter how much I read or how much therapy we scheduled. In therapy, I felt as though we never got to the heart of things and now I realize that there were just too many layers of resentment to overcome. Even though I repeatedly said the finances were okay, they really were not. I was paying the bills and I knew I didn't really need his contribution. His inability to support us ruined any connection that we had. Further, I didn't really understand why he had begun to treat me badly. I cooked, I cleaned, I paid bills, I worked and it seemed the more I did the worse off I was! Finally, I decided that he just didn't love me anymore and that's when I told him. He didn't even try to deny it. I have just come to the conclusion he didn't love me whatsoever.
I now believe that sometimes men chase attractive women who are smart, wonderful, and fun because that's what they are told to desire. It doesn't mean that they love you though. Even if you are in a marriage, it doesn't mean that they love you. So, for me the question now that I have figured this out is: What are you going to do now?
Well, I'm not sure just yet. I don't know if this evolutionary thing can be overcome. It does not mean that I won't date or go out, but surely I'm not interested in marriage or even a relationship at this point. I have lots of hobbies. My children, work, and friends keep me really busy. Maybe I don't even need anyone to love me. Love thyself and enjoy the steak ladies.
I know that for some, the reasons of a divorce are private. Its something that you do not publicly discuss. Things just didn't work out and that happens 50% of the time here in US if the figures I've read are correct. I'm coming to believe that we should be more open about things. That there are times when privacy leads to misunderstanding and fear. That in order to come clean there are issues that are simply not private and maybe we should reconsider evaluating and discussing them openly. I also know that when people find out that you have divorced they begin to draw their own conclusions and gossip about you. I can only guess that its related to the whole privacy conundrum that I mentioned earlier and people feeling like they couldn't discuss it with you in the first place.
Before my formal divorce was underway, I had begun reading Laura Berman. She writes about women's sexuality and relationships. I listened to her just recently on Oprah and suddenly a light went on for me. Now, I know that Laura Berman may be a sore subject. I gave my ex some CD's of hers to listen to and he nearly went ballistic about it. He articulated that he already knew all of this stuff and I was the one who needed to listen. Well, if you don't like it don't listen, but I believe she says a lot of relevant things that men should know about and feel comfortable with.
On the Oprah Show, Laura Berman articulated that in evolutionary terms women looked for men who were able to provide them (and their young) with the largest piece of meat. Now that women don't necessarily need men to provide them with that, she said that it will be interesting to see how it impacts our relationships.
I can tell you that at first, that statement just like lots of other statements went into my memory and didn't connect to much. It wasn't until I had this dream about my ex that it really impacted me. In my dream, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I screamed, "You didn't support us!" I was crying horribly and then I woke up and proceeded to cry some more.
In my relationship, I did not feel supported. I held a lot of resentment because I was the one who was financially accountable. My ex could care less if the bills were paid. He was irresponsible with money and he did not support his family. He contributed when begged, but I worked from the time my children were infants. I was constantly doing budgets and asking my husband to come up with his half of the finances in our household. I felt as though I was begging him to do what I knew good and damn well he should just do without necessarily being nagged about it.
In the book, and probably in the movie, "He's Just Not That Into You" I read one ridiculous scenario after another. I should have understood that his inability to support us, was his way of showing me that he really didn't love me at all, EVER. In the book they consistently write to a formula that goes something like this: If a guy does x or y that means? The answer is almost always, "He's Just Not That Into You". Now that hilarious commentary would have saved me a whole bunch of time, if I had bought into it, but I didn't. Plus, I just didn't take the book or the movie seriously, but I read it nontheless.
If that book is too annoying and you want a more formalized discussion you might read Hendrix because he also discusses the importance of the man being the provider in a relationship. I knew this stuff, but I readily disregarded it. Why? Maybe because I believe that women should work. I believe in equality and I don't think I necessarily need to be taken care of, because I can take care of myself. Unfortunately, what I failed to resolve is the fact that what I believe and the deep seeded biological maybe even instinctive messages were forcing me down another path altogether.
At first, my ex and I communicated about this issue. We even tried to try to work through it.Unfortunately, the way that we worked through it was that I paid the bills and he needed to pay his half. Over time, I realized that it might be easier if I simply became the responsible one. I came to hate nagging him to pay. As I became more responsible and more financially successful I felt less enthused about my marriage. I could pay the bills by myself. This wasn't the outcome, I was working so hard for and now a decade had gone by. Yes, I wasted an entire decade!
Now that the bills were paid my ex-husband complained about affection. I couldn't see what he was moaning about. Shouldn't he be happy that his wife was taking on a majority of the financial burden? Shouldn't he be happy that he was allowed to pursue his vocational dreams, which included owning a non-profitable car business for several years? In any case, I completely withdrew physically from the relationship. "No meat = no affection" was my instinctive calculation. I didn't withdraw consciously, it was a subconscious thing for me. I couldn't figure out what was wrong no matter how much I read or how much therapy we scheduled. In therapy, I felt as though we never got to the heart of things and now I realize that there were just too many layers of resentment to overcome. Even though I repeatedly said the finances were okay, they really were not. I was paying the bills and I knew I didn't really need his contribution. His inability to support us ruined any connection that we had. Further, I didn't really understand why he had begun to treat me badly. I cooked, I cleaned, I paid bills, I worked and it seemed the more I did the worse off I was! Finally, I decided that he just didn't love me anymore and that's when I told him. He didn't even try to deny it. I have just come to the conclusion he didn't love me whatsoever.
I now believe that sometimes men chase attractive women who are smart, wonderful, and fun because that's what they are told to desire. It doesn't mean that they love you though. Even if you are in a marriage, it doesn't mean that they love you. So, for me the question now that I have figured this out is: What are you going to do now?
Well, I'm not sure just yet. I don't know if this evolutionary thing can be overcome. It does not mean that I won't date or go out, but surely I'm not interested in marriage or even a relationship at this point. I have lots of hobbies. My children, work, and friends keep me really busy. Maybe I don't even need anyone to love me. Love thyself and enjoy the steak ladies.
Rio Rancho High School Registrar Draft Letter
Lots to do today. First, I need to compose a letter supporting my daughter's disdain for the elective class schedule she was assigned. She was very disappointed by the fact that she didn't get a single foreign language. For a year now, she has been thinking of majoring in Linguistics. She thought that studying a foreign language might help her to decide if that is indeed her path. I want to articulate, that I too think that its unfair for lots of reasons. Last year, she let the computer choose her electives and she chose to take Robotics. She ended up with Dance and Study Hall for her other elective(s) and it was just okay.
She has been assigned Dance again, but I can tell she isn't interested in another term of Dance. She just isn't the Dance type if you ask me. She is basically a hard-core academic girl. If there was ever anyone to diagram a sentence I would pick my daughter over anyone else. She understands English and has been a reader since 3rd grade. She used to say that books were her friends. She was so taken by Mark Twain when she read Tom Sawyer she built a raft out of cardboard box and used to sleep in it during the 4th grade. I used to worry that she was overly absorbed with this story. Everytime it rained, I would think that my 4th grader was probably in an arroyo with the "raft" she constructed.
I don't know if other parents have these same types of concerns for their children. I just know how passionate Taylor has been about books and reading. My heart aches when I see that she is not being fufilled in her academic study. She is always willing to accept what we choose to give her. She does not have high expectations for her classroom experience. The Rio Rancho mid-high is quite crowded and she can tell that many of her teachers are simply tired. She accepts this condition because she is unconditionally empathetic and respectful of the human condition. She understands that there are many students far worse off then herself. She can always disappear into a book afterall. She therefore fails to challenge her teachers in academic discourse. Part of the educational process is to challenge and debate in order to gain deeper meaning. For my child, this isn't happening and I can tell you that I'm somewhat disappointed because this needs to happen so that she is able to grow at the higher levels of Bloom's Taxonomy.
When Taylor read some of the advice given to me regarding this topic on my facebook page she laughed. One of my friends recommended that her letter outline a new elective schedule where she would attend her chosen courses period. Additionally, it warned the Vice Principal to be prepared to throw her out of these classes.
Taylor's response to this was, your friend is recommending I become mutiness? She laughed about it. Taylor does not whole heartedly laugh alot. She is a serious girl. I'm not sure what exactly her letter will say, but I can tell you that she was upset. That she is disappointed. I think that you should try to give her a foreign language course, and if you cannot then you should provide her with an explanation.
Now, I know that as a parent and a licensed teacher myself, I could prepare a more academic discussion outlining the reasons why I think that you should reconsider. That, there are many things wrong with our educational system and some of the messages that are conveyed here should be addressed namely:
She has been assigned Dance again, but I can tell she isn't interested in another term of Dance. She just isn't the Dance type if you ask me. She is basically a hard-core academic girl. If there was ever anyone to diagram a sentence I would pick my daughter over anyone else. She understands English and has been a reader since 3rd grade. She used to say that books were her friends. She was so taken by Mark Twain when she read Tom Sawyer she built a raft out of cardboard box and used to sleep in it during the 4th grade. I used to worry that she was overly absorbed with this story. Everytime it rained, I would think that my 4th grader was probably in an arroyo with the "raft" she constructed.
I don't know if other parents have these same types of concerns for their children. I just know how passionate Taylor has been about books and reading. My heart aches when I see that she is not being fufilled in her academic study. She is always willing to accept what we choose to give her. She does not have high expectations for her classroom experience. The Rio Rancho mid-high is quite crowded and she can tell that many of her teachers are simply tired. She accepts this condition because she is unconditionally empathetic and respectful of the human condition. She understands that there are many students far worse off then herself. She can always disappear into a book afterall. She therefore fails to challenge her teachers in academic discourse. Part of the educational process is to challenge and debate in order to gain deeper meaning. For my child, this isn't happening and I can tell you that I'm somewhat disappointed because this needs to happen so that she is able to grow at the higher levels of Bloom's Taxonomy.
When Taylor read some of the advice given to me regarding this topic on my facebook page she laughed. One of my friends recommended that her letter outline a new elective schedule where she would attend her chosen courses period. Additionally, it warned the Vice Principal to be prepared to throw her out of these classes.
Taylor's response to this was, your friend is recommending I become mutiness? She laughed about it. Taylor does not whole heartedly laugh alot. She is a serious girl. I'm not sure what exactly her letter will say, but I can tell you that she was upset. That she is disappointed. I think that you should try to give her a foreign language course, and if you cannot then you should provide her with an explanation.
Now, I know that as a parent and a licensed teacher myself, I could prepare a more academic discussion outlining the reasons why I think that you should reconsider. That, there are many things wrong with our educational system and some of the messages that are conveyed here should be addressed namely:
- Tay has helped Rio Rancho schools meet NCLB requirements since fifth grade when we relocated to this district. The way to pay her back for this is by giving her electives she doesn't want, so she can become demotivated because people who perform well and exceed requirements are not rewarded for their efforts in anyway. Additionally, they should be further conditioned to think that they are not deserving. This is a reality for many youth and we must present reality.
- US schools and culture has a long history of assimilation. An Asian language would be culturally relevent to me and my children. It shouldn't be allowed for this reason.
- We want to make sure that kids that have the ability and emotional academic stamina to study hard core subjects are well-rounded so we give them dance and other creative outlets for their own benefit. Nevermind the fact, that the United States is ranked behind other industrial nations in academics. The one size fits all model had better work at all costs.
I can only hope that these reasons are not pertinent, but there is a side of me that is concerned. Should I be? Is there any chance that you are infact demotivating my child? Does this have to do with assimilation? Are we progressing toward a "one model fits all" methodology that doesn't necessarily serve the needs of academically capable students? Again, I would like you to reconsider my daughter's elective schedule. I look forward to your response.
Sincerely,
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