Wednesday, June 27, 2007

the very little I know.


I still have not wrapped my brain around this, which is why I haven't mentioned it. It is also why this will probably be short. A boy from my school died a highly publicized death last week. I did not teach him; we are a small urban middle school, though (an old building, built when middle schools were kept smaller), so everyone seems to know everyone somehow and the effects of tradgedy permeate. He died in a flood, and according to the news, as his parents and siblings watched helplessly. When my husband told me the news, the area of town where a boy had lost his life, my heart began to race. I signed into my work email for the first time this summer, selfishly pleading that it not be from my school, and especially not one of mine. Selfish, yes, but this was my auto reaction. And, when it sunk in that the child wasn't mine, I of course felt no better. Maybe because he his mine; we are all eachother's. I cannot imagine the loss felt by his family, his friends and even his teachers. Teachers love their kids fiercely; I wasn't always even aware of how strongly I felt about my students until something tapped into that well. The humbling moments. The moments that were sweet from the beginning. I remember the last day of classes, the dark cloud that floated over my lonely, child-less room...it hit me, quite suddenly, all of the times that I was not really "there," that my eyes didn't light up, that I didn't get how lucky I was (am). I guess that is what I have to offer now, which seems trite in comparison to what a family in my school community is going through...Of the little control I have, may I renew my view, my appreciation, my compassion for my students. For all people. May I see them in their best light. That is all I know for now. Peace.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Que Sarah, Sarah (link)


I've been following Sarah for about a year. Melanoma recently took her life, and I haven't really known what to say. I didn't know her well, but read her devoutely and with emotion.

If you read the comments on her blog from her husband's last post, you'll see that many people have a similar angle; it's amazing how we can be touched by someone we don't really know.

Today is her funeral, or better, a celebration of her life. If you haven't already, stop by her blog and read it start to finish. She is an inspiration. Obituary below.


Sarah Lynne Toller, age 30, beloved wife of Derek Kaskiw, lived her life to the full until Tuesday, June 12, 2007. Sarah is lovingly missed by her mother Pat Best and her husband Dave Best of Kingston; her father John Toller and brother Bryan Toller, both of London; grandparents Hall Snell of Kingston and Norah Toller of Ottawa; uncle Tony Snell and family of Richmond Hill, aunts Lynne Greene of Toronto and Cindy Snell of Montreal and their families. Sarah is also fondly remembered by her in-laws Garry and Elke Kaskiw and their entire family. Friends may call on Friday, June 22 from 7-9 p.m. at the James A. Harris Funeral Home, 220 St. James St. at Richmond, where a celebration of Sarah’s life will be held on Saturday, June 23 at 2:00 p.m. Visitation will also take place on Saturday, June 23 from 1:00 p.m. until 2:00 p.m. Cremation with interment later in London. A memorial donation to any of the following will be greatly appreciated: Canadian Melanoma Foundation, Canadian Cancer Society, Wellspring (London). Many thanks to Drs. Logan, Engel, Moulin and Gilchrist at LRCP, and Drs Schreier and Shetty and the Palliative Care team at Victoria Hospital for their honest and compassionate care. Thanks also to Kelly Stocks, RN, at ComCare for her kind and gentle home care. Special thanks to Tina Plat-Dekoter, Social Worker, LRCP, who journeyed with Sarah and Derek from the beginning and was always there to help when and where needed most.

Que Sera Sera, Que Sarah Sarah

Thursday, June 21, 2007

foshizzy

I hate myself for this a little bit. But it kills me. So funny.



Tranzliate this Shiznit to Jive!

Click the Spinn'n Rim Beotch!

 

www.myYearbook.com -- Created by 2 high school students to kick myspace's ass

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Wednesday, June 20, 2007

nostalgia, smosmalgia

"We seem to be going through a period of nostalgia, and everyone seems to think yesterday was better than today. I don't think it was, and I would advise you not to wait ten years before admitting today was great. If you're hung up on nostalgia, pretend today is yesterday and just go out and have one hell of a time. "

~Art Buchwald

Saturday, June 16, 2007

karma.



I used to cut friendships off left and right, dismissing current friends and looking for new, more perfect friends for me. I'm one of those people who took the "Toxic Relationships" episode of Oprah WAY too seriously. Let's just say that I think karma may have found me....My picture album includes a lot of people who I thought of as a near best friend at once, who I eventually cut off, at least to some degree....The book could be titled, "My half-a## Attempts." More on that later.

Page one: The Needy-A## Takers

Everyone has met a needy-a## taker. Maybe you are on. Historically, I am a needy-a##-taker magnet. Now, if you think that says something about me, you're probably right. Needy-a## takers are frequently photographed next to "I-need-to-help-others-to-feel-worthy-ers." Needy-a##-takers, be aware, I will no longer enable yo' needy a##. Anyways, what usually happened here is that I ended up in some therapist-esque role in which things weren't at all reciprocal. A lot of talk about them and their ruminations, and very little talk about me and mine. Enter late night phone calls. Enter a new crisis. Enter another new crisis. And another...and I gave...and gave...and gave..and then I was absolutely exausted, and I mean beat, and I would disappear.

Page two: "No connection." (Translation: usually morally or politically inferior in some way)

I ran into a lot of "no connection" friends after I started avoiding needy-a##-takers like the plague. I have a lot of pictures with these friends, because it often seemed like we did have a connection, sometimes even for a long time. Soon, it was easy to find others morally and politically unsatisifying. I didn't see myself as judgemental; I just saw myself as not wanting to be around people who did not have similar values. I remember sharing 300 sq foot with a person and two animals, buying all my clothes at thrift stores...judging my friends for their weaknesses (the ones I didn't share), for their materialism, for their microderm abrasion when I knew they couldn't afford it, for caring too much about makeup, for not being into buying thrift store clothes, not recycling, not voting. I thought of myself as all-supporting, all-loving because of my minimalism and my politics, but I was hiding behind some sort of self-righteousness, I think. Why?

I believe that we are ALL connected, and that we need to see these connections, even in those who seem different. Do I still know needy-a##-takers? Yes. But, now I know boundaries, too, and there are people who I have rewarding friendships with now that I could not have managed being friends with before. Not that I would spend lots of time with people who I don't have fun with or who don't want to talk about what I want to talk about. And, I'm sure there are times when cutting off truly is necessary.

So, I'd like to ceremoniously shut the cover of my photo album of "Half A## Attempts," and start a new book, the book of "Namaste," maybe..."The divine in me acknowledges the divine that is in you."

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

a day for good news.


(photo taken by me in Costa Rica. It is a hot spring, heated by the Arenal volcano. Most. Soothing. Place. Ever.)

Kahlil Gibran: (from the Prophet)

...When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer
in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is
clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the
deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its
own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and
only the unprofitable is caught.

...And in the sweetness of friendship let there be
laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its
morning and is refreshed.

water, please.


Question of the day: Will hot yoga make me pass out or throw up in public today?

I'm definitely not new to yoga, and I'm even sort of not new to hot yoga...If you don't know, hot yoga is yoga in which the room is heated to, in this case, 98 degrees while we go through the series of postures. I know. It sounds aweful. Believe me though, people who do it love it. With a history of just passing the hell out all the time, I've not yet made it through the 90 min. class without having to sit down. If you're familiar with what it's like to pass out, you know what I mean. The blood pressure drops, so you can't stand up anymore...then, if it gets worse, you can't sit up anymore, or if you don't listen to your body or are just in a bad way, down you go. And it's not fun at all. You are sure you will throw up (although I haven't yet), and did I mention that your vision goes? Benign (depending upon what you fall on), mind you, and trust me it will get you out of school for the day, where instead you go to your grandma's and receive special treatment even though you feel just fine.

At any rate, I usually catch myself in hot yoga before it gets bad....I really try to listen to my body, which apparently is just really, really susceptible to heat exaustion...But, from what I was told, I sat in a part of the room where they leave the fans off...Now, I don't think I could go to a hot yoga that didn't have fans, bc our bodies need to evaporate sweat to cool ourselves...At any rate, I didn't have that, or maybe it had something to do with going to the 6 am class, with the way they saw we wake up dehydrated, but people, we had an incident.

I'll leave out most of the horribly embarassing details, but it involved me crawling, yes crawling, and also laying with my face on the floor of a public bathroom. Not. Pretty. People. This happened to me the summer after I graduated high school, at a car wash in the McDonald's parking lot. I had just moved to Dallas and didn't know anyone, so I ended up at a car wash for a church or something, and it occurred to me that I was just seeing the outlines of people. Bad sign. Enter nausea. I knew I had to lay down fast, or it was all over. Much like a sick dog, I quickly found my way to the most isolated place I could find, I remember I could barely see. It's kind of like looking at the negatives of a photograph, the light comes through, but everything else is getting blacked out. Anyways, the grease, the disease of the floor, none of it mattered. Ah, it feels so good, the cool floor.

And there on the bathroom floor I was found. Yes, the urban McDonald's disease-infested bathroom floor. Finally.

"Oh my God, We have to call an ambulance."

"No." I try to sit up, you know, wipe the bathroom floor STD's off my forehead. Can't. Sit. Up.

Someone brings me orange juice. I don't know who they are but I drink it. the floor has probably already killed me.

Long story short, I am able to get them to wait ten minutes. And, I recovered. And got the h out of there.

The moral of the story is, well, there is no moral. Just sending out a general wish that it doesn't happen again today...Please? Fairy God Mother? Baby Jesus? Collective unconscious? Genie? Please?


POST YOGA UPDATE: Thank you Fairy God Mother, Baby Jesus, Collective Unconscious AND Genie! Today was the first day of hot yoga that I actually made it ALL the way through the 90 minutes without having to sit down. Tomorrow, 6am, will be my first morning class after our little "incident." I plan to drink lots of water before bed to make sure I'm hydrated, and then to get up at 5 and start drinking again.

Also, I've been really focusing on being mindful of my eating, especially after being inspired by Lauren's reference to the Time photoshoot showing families' weekly groceries from around the world. Also, I was reminded today that the top 20% of population, fiscally, control 82% of the wealth (including food, water, etc). If you are reading this, you are most certainly in the top 20%, trust me, no matter how poor you think your ass is. I want to really evaluate whether I'm living sustainably. "We must live simply so that others may simply live."

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

summer in the city

Good morning to day two of my official summer haitus from the world of working people. This thing lasts until late August. August, people (or person, as the case may be!). The heck? It just almost seems crazy, long! The silliEST thing is that over the year, I've come to almost feel that it is owed to me. I think this year, I almost needed it, so I don't hate myself too much....but, it's not like most jobs come with a 3 month break worked into it....and, in some states you can say that teachers are paid so poorly that they deserve a break, but let's be real. In TX, if you are starting out in social services, this is as good as it gets. AND you get the summer off. I agree that teaching is hard, but perspective is the secret key to success (as with anything, it seems), and b/c of perspective I was able to evolve to see my job as an amazing opportunity, every day. And, it was. I will never be the same...just thinking about my gratitude brings tears to my eyes every time, like a big blubbery loser. Holding out for the summer, for the weekends, now seems silly. There were gifts in every moment, but I had to adjust the lighting to see them. Have you heard the quote, "Treat your friends like your art work, and view them in their best light?" I guess that's what this year has taught me to think about life in general. It is what it is. The various challenges, etc., will be what they will be; I have a tiny amount to no control over that. I can control the way I look at it, though. The beauty or lack of beauty seem limitless in either direction, all depending on the lighting. May I illuminate.

This school year was quite the emotional challenge, but more than anything, it was an opportunity. Here is the quotation that the teacher who had my classroom prior to me left stuffed in her sub folder (maybe I should have taken this as an omen early on!):

"We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as unsolvable problems." - John W. Gardner

You have no idea how many times I repeated this to myself over the past nine months. It was on my computer, and I read it at least a few times a day. And, it did not say DIFFICULT problem, but UNSOLVABLE. I love that, b/c you have no idea how many times I almost turned the car around on my way to work early on. The first time I thought I would actually THROW UP from anxiety. I had never hated anything more, ever. It was intolerable. How I thought things like, "How long will it take to recover from breaking a contract?" And, in the end, I loved it. Loved it! The news here is that my situation didn't change at all; I did. That's why I love it now. My husband was shocked by my change of heart, b/c it was overnight, like an epiphany. As someone who steers clear of drama, fights, etc, it was unbelievably draining at first to deal with the adolescent persona, much less in a high needs school. Without being too divulgent, let me just say, imagine the prototype adolescent who has no one at home that cares what he does anyways (or, more likely, has 3 jobs and doesn't have the time)...Imagine quite a few of those to start out your morning every day, wanting to fight. Ready to THROW DOWN over anything. It was a major ego schock to me, b/c this was not like what I had seen on tv, where they would love me and all their lives would instantly change and then I'd get to play an extra in the movie.

It took me a long time to even see, "Freedom Writers," b/c it kind of angered me...I didn't know what to do with these kids, and people kept saying stuff like, "but did you hear about that teacher in that movie." I wanted to punch those people, and tell them to live in my shoes for one day. I came home and went to bed. Every night. On the way to work, I actually talked to myself the whole time just so I could keep myself distracted enough not to think about the students I was dreading seeing.

Eventually, this became intolerable. And I mean, intolerable, so something had to change. I had tried to change them, but I didn't know how. The only person I could really change was me. I began to focus on seeing the beautiful inner nature of each of my students and dealing with them with compassion (firm compassion!). When I enjoyed them, when my eyes began to light up when they walked in, they decided to love me back...It really opened up a beautiful world to me. I went to my first Quinceanera, which brought tears to my eyes. I let them teach me Spanish sometimes, to teach me about their culture, and they loved that. I even began to wonder if they had some things figured out that I didn't...Each young adult, each "unsolvable problem," was simply brilliantly disguised as a great opportunity...A sheep in wolf's clothing.

The greatest "problem" of all turned out to be in letting them go. I held it together like a trooper after school, even when my 8th graders hugged me, crying, going out fearfully into a whole different world. I had to be strong for them, though I know the statistics are against them...But, they go out into the world, in a world that was much easier for me, in small town USA, than it will most likely be for them.

I went back to my room after school, my poor empty room that lives off of learning, off of students, as it's life line. I thought about many of my students individually. Will I ever hear from them again? I mourned all the times I didn't appreciate the opportunities I had been given, the times that I didn't engage in their lives the way I expected them to engage in learning...the times I reacted in anger, the times I didn't want to be there...the times I was indifferent to this most amazing gift I had been given. I thought about the achievement gap, I thought about the ones without strong families, about the ones in gangs...As their writing teacher, I got to read something of their dreams, from each and every one of them...and, believe me, they all have dreams, beautiful ones. Did you know that the teenagers you see on the street, with sagging pants and bling and enough anger inside for all our lifetimes have dreams? Dreams of helping people, of being successful, of buying houses for their families, so that they aren't evicted anymore, so they no longer have to suffer...

Travel safely, my friends.

In other news, I'm focusing on getting this #*@#*& 5 pg. essay finished for this MSW program I'm starting soon (probably fall, if something falls through, then Spring- no big deal.). After this is all behind me, I'll hopefully jump back on the volunteerism bandwagon. I always used to volunteer somewhere, but this year I just haven't had the energy. I'm between hospice and a community kitchen downtown. I might also volunteer in the children's hospital; I've done that before and really loved it.

My husband just got into med school, so we are definitely NOT going on a trip we've already been putting off since last year, with Global Exchange...A "Reality Tour" to Nicaragua. I guess they can keep our deposit, now. There are worse places for our money to go... Instead, we will procure an efficient little car. We're basically looking for our old car reincarnate: little, pretty only to us, gas efficient, never dies. We'll still travel a little, though not internationally. I'll go visit my friend C in New Jersey. And B and I are having a big tour d' Kansas right before he starts school. I have to admit that I miss Kansas, specificaly Manhattan. Manhattan is so simple, yet alive. It was hard for us to live there, b/c it mostly has families and then 20 year olds...not much in the middle. But, I miss the nature & more. The largest untouched tall grass prairie in the world...political activism that definitely rivals that of the giant city we now live in...More respect and gratitude for the environment...long conversations about life in coffee shops, the kind of situations you want to go back and recreate, even though you know such thoughts are futile.

I guess the key is to keep the lighting well adjusted in my new life, having faith that new opportunities are always around me, if I should choose to see them.