the woods are lovely, dark and deep

Maybe it's the weather. Yes, it's snowing again. Maybe it's the strange pace of the holiday season. For whatever reason, today my mind drifted to a song and poem I introduced to my class last semester.

The poem is Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening." It's a short, simple poem about a person who stops for a moment of reflection. Simple, but with potential for layers of meaning.

Many of these layers are captured in a song, "Dark and Deep," written by David LaMotte and inspired by Frost's poem.

I love the refrain in this song, "A promise is not like a moment; a moment's not something you keep; I've made too many promises lately; and the woods are lovely, dark and deep."

I asked my class to write a reflection about the themes of the poem and the song, looking for how they were similar. A couple of students actually took the assignment very seriously, and I could tell they spent time exploring the depths of meaning.

Instead of telling you what they or I discovered in these works, I'd like to hear from you. I have enough blog fans out there that we should be able to hear from quite a few people. So take a few moments, let all the other stuff take care of itself, and tell me what you hear.

the seventh veil

This is part seven of a seven part series. Read parts one, two, three, four, five, and six first.

The seventh veil uncovers a truth upon which all the other truths hinge. “The illusion of the seventh veil was the illusion that you could get somebody else to do it for you. To think for you…Even though the great emotions, the great truths, were universal; even though the mind of humanity was ultimately one mind, still, each and every single individual had to establish his or her own special, personal, particular, unique, direct, one-on-one, hands-on relationship with reality, with the universe, with the Divine.”

This is neither easy to accept nor to accomplish. We can learn from others, the great minds can help us navigate the waters, but ultimately, to be fully human, we have to do the tough work ourselves. It would be easier, of course, if there were an instructional manual for life, but there is no such thing. Even the great works of scripture don’t claim this title. And if there were an instruction manual with all the answers to all the questions, what would happen to the adventure of discovery? Life would be bland, mundane, shallow, and fake.

This is how many choose to live, though. To allow others to tell them what to do, what to say, how to think, for whom and what to vote, seems like the safer, more comfortable route. It brings many peace, but the peace is false. It is more an agreement to live as a mindless robot; it is handing over one’s heart and soul in exchange for a pre-packaged, artificially sweetened way of life. Do they know what they’re really consuming, though? Do they know what they’re feeding their children?

When the seventh veil falls, the world is shaken, the sense of security may be shattered for a while, but ultimately, life is richer, colors brighter, the heart and mind more alive and real.

Houston voters rock the political world

While most people were caught up in the frantic pace of the holidays, an historic mayoral election in Houston added one more signal to the changing political climate in America, a climate where the issues matter more than the particular ethnicity, culture, or sexual orientation of the candidate.

On December 11, Houston became the first American big-city to elect a lesbian mayor. What's most remarkable, however, is what a non-issue her sexual orientation was. In a country whose politics over the last several decades have been over-run by a narrow, bigoted "family values" platform that often shadowed issues actually relevant to Americans, it is exciting to see signs that a new generation of voters care more about things like jobs, education, health care, and constitutional rights than a candidate's personal relationships.

A black presidential candidate carrying southern states, Bush's hometown electing a lesbian democrat as mayor, what's next? A woman as US president? Let's dare to dream.

moments

My daughter teaches me anew everyday to seize moments of joy as they come. This is one of those moments that I wouldn't give up for anything. It was like time was standing still. Running in the sand with her, giggling as the waves splash us, watching the sun set without worrying about the time: it was a day full of perfect Christmas presents. When I'm back home at the end of a long day of working, I will remember these moments and look forward to more to come.

an unexpected moment of beauty

Today, for the last day of classes, we celebrated the progress students have made over the last quarter. We announced those who had passed the GED recently and asked them to share their future plans. We cheered for everyone who had advanced academically over the last quarter, and we praised all the students for their perseverance and hard work. The dean even joined us and commended the students for all they had accomplished.

After the celebration, I returned to one of the classrooms with a student to show him some study resources for over the break. While we were working, another student stepped in. I thought most had already left, so was a little surprised. She said, "No one mentioned the instructors today. Before I left, though, I wanted to tell you thank you. You have all worked hard and helped us very much. I appreciate everything you have done. It means a lot to me. So thank you."

I was speechless for a moment. It was completely unexpected, but also obviously heartfelt. I smiled, maybe even teared up a tiny bit, and said, "You're very welcome. Thank you for telling me that. I'm glad to have helped." She smiled back and me, then walked away.

That was my first Christmas present this season, and it will be hard to top.

Raymore city council may be packin'

The Raymore city council just voted to allow its members to carry concealed weapons to council meetings. Yep, that's right, so be careful what you say if you go to a council meeting. Don't piss them off. The vote was 5-3, so you'll be safe with a few of them. Problem is, the news article didn't mention who voted which way. So, I would tread carefully, if I were you.

Read my article with all sorts of deep reflection here.

and so this is Christmas

Aliyah and I are heading to the beaches of Florida in a few days. I was thinking a warm, sunny beachy Christmas would be fantastic this year. She, on the other hand, once she thought it through, was a little concerned. “Mommy, there’s no snow in Florida. How can it be Christmas without snow?”

Now, mind you, in all her years on this planet she has lived through more Christmases of color than white, but in her head is the idea that Christmas always means snow, and the possibility of that in Florida is remote to none. It’s interesting how expectations work their ways into our heads. Generalities and stereotypes invade our thinking without our even noticing, so that we expect something to be or behave in a certain prescribed way, even if it doesn’t fit our general experience.

It could be all the classic Christmas movies we watch: Miracle on 34^th Street, White Christmas, Christmas in Connecticut. For some reason, northeastern United States has become our standard for appropriate Christmas weather. I wonder about the cultural dominance of that area of the country.

So, we will not have a white Christmas, dear, unless you count the whitecaps on the waves.

let the provoking begin

Last Wednesday I attended my first meeting of the Provocateurs, a sister group of the Freethinkers, led by Fred, the science journalist who was kicked out of his church for talking about evolution (yes, Toto, we’re still in Kansas).

The purpose of their meeting is for dechurched or disillusioned people to discuss weighty matters of ethics, morality, belief, and life in an open, respectful, casual environment. Our makeup that night was four Christians, an ex-Mormon, and several atheists. I was especially impressed that so many turned out that evening since the outside temperature was 7 (how very glad I am the window in the ghetto Beamer is fixed).

Fred kicked off conversation with the question, “What is one action that you would consider moral?” The amount of agreement in our answers was impressive considering the diversity of belief systems. Answers included: caring for someone in need, honesty, standing up against injustice, and refraining from murder (ok, that’s more of a negative of an immoral act, and we didn’t all agree on the definition of murder). The next question spurred more disagreement, “What is the source of morality?” Offshoots of this question included, “Does morality change with time, culture, and situations? Must morality be given to us by some objective being outside the material world? If morality is doing more good than harm, how do you measure and balance harm and good? Would superior alien life forms view us in the same light that we view goldfish?”

Unfortunately, I had to leave before we delved into the second topic of the night, “if there were (is) no god, would we have to invent one?” inspired by a quote from Voltaire. My answer? Yes, yes we would.

What I especially appreciated about the evening, besides the scrumptious fruit dip (how did you make that, Jennifer?), was that as much as we disagreed, we did not attack one another. Instead, everyone listened to and respected each other, and we all came away with at least a little more knowledge, a little broader minds, and a little deeper friendships.

Unless, of course, something went terribly awry after I left.

Catching Fire: More fun than it sounds

Suzanne Collins does not disappoint her readers with her sequel to "The Hunger Games." We again follow Katniss and her friends as they suffer under, yet defy and begin to rebel against, the all too familiar Capitol. It's not just an entertaining read, though. It's also a critical look at our own wealthy, powerful culture.

Read my review and reflection here.

the sixth veil

This is part of a seven part series. Read parts one, two, three, four, and five first.

The sixth veil reveals something insidious. “Nazi Germany, the Inquisition, Stalinism, the Crusades, these were what happened when reality was allowed to give way to cliché. Behind the sixth veil, like a pearl behind cheesecloth, was the realization that ‘the end of the world’ was the most dangerous cliché of all.”

Ah, clichés. Don’t you just love them? They remove all necessity of thought, introspection, openness to change, and creativity. Instead, they allow us to simply fall in with a simple party line that satisfies and pleases thousands, even while robbing the soul of its depth.

Has there ever been a politician elected to a prominent office without a handy cliché? (Here’s a fun quiz: how many US presidential slogans can you recall?) Parents, of course, rely heavily on clichés. They are a great way to answer the child’s “why” without ever actually answering it. Rest assured, though, that children will remember the clichés to pass down to their children and grandchildren.

Robbins claims that the most dangerous cliché is “the end of the world.” Most of us laugh at the image of a man walking the streets holding a sign that says, “The End of the World is Near.” We don’t really buy into this cliché, do we?

I remember watching a film in youth group at our family’s (denominational affiliation removed) church about the end of the world, “The Rapture.” Its intent was to scare the hell out of us, and it worked on me. For years after, chills would run down my spine whenever I walked into an empty room and couldn’t find anyone. “Oh no! The rapture came and I was left behind! I’m going to burn for eternity!” It was a powerful tool of control. None of us wanted to step out of line, lest Jesus decide to reject us at the end of times.

Then there are those that believe in and desire the end of times so firmly that they dedicate their lives to helping bring it about. The end is accompanied by great wars and tribulation, so the story goes, so if they can add to these, the end is sure to come more quickly. Just as dangerous are those who insist that all the violence and suffering are necessary, or at least inevitable, so make no effort to combat it.

Is there an end of times? Well, I guess everything that has a beginning has an end (oops, was that a cliché?) so quite likely there will be an end of times. But it is not ours to anticipate, bring about, or fear. Today is just today. Enjoy it and try not to mess it up too badly.

What happens to a dream deferred?

My classes are studying the play, "A Raisin in the Sun" by Lorraine Hansberry, a play first produced on Broadway in 1959. Among other themes, the play explores cultural and individual pride. One of the characters, Joseph Asagai, asks Beneatha why she insists on mutilating her hair. He suggests to her that her hair would be beautiful if she let it go natural. I asked my class what they made of this, and at first they weren't sure. So then I asked them what was the most popular hairstyle for black women in the 60s. All of them, even those in their 20s, knew it was the afro. "Why?" I asked them, which led into a discussion about taking pride in natural beauty instead of trying to mold oneself into the narrow definition of beauty promoted by our dominant culture.

To further this idea, I brought up the 90s song, "Baby Got Back." (How do you know about that song, Ms.Pullin? they asked. They think all I listen to is Leann Rimes) True, the song is full of innuendo, but at its heart it is encouraging women with curves, especially women of color, to see themselves as beautiful and desirable the way they are. This is why I found it so offensive when Cameron Diaz danced to the song in "Charlie's Angels."

So I'm wondering, besides incredibly thin bodies, what other standards of beauty does our dominate culture promote that damage the confidence of men and women who can not fit these standards?

as requested, a post inspired by freethinking at the Blackdog Coffeehouse

We had some lively discussion Saturday night at the Freethinkers meetup. We kicked off the evening with everyone’s sharing his/her story. It was like old-fashioned testimony time at church, only most stories ended with some variation of, “and that’s why I left the church.” This time there were two of us who still believe in God plus one ex-pastor (now atheist), so there were a variety of viewpoints.

One of the discussions that grew out of the conversation was about the Bible and the Jesus in the Bible. I was not surprised by the strong and diverse opinions, though with that many people in the room, it’s not always easy for everyone to express thoughts. I contributed to the discussion, but ideas continued to race through my head all night, so I’m going to share now some of what’s been on my mind.

Some people shared that not only do they disagree with the Bible, but also that the book makes no sense and that the Jesus in it is not a likeable guy. Ok, everyone’s entitled to opinions, and I do appreciate that many there had at least taken the time to read the book, but if you are going to argue with it, you have to go a few steps further.

Please do not make the same mistakes that millions of Christians do- approaching the ancient text with a modern mindset and modern expectations. Many think, “It’s the Word of God. Everything it says is true, so all I have to do is sit down and read it and I’ll know the truth. It’s just that simple.” Many atheists think, “I don’t believe in God, this is all nonsense, so I’m going to read it to find all the flaws.” Both end up in the same place: not allowing the text to speak for itself first before forming an opinion.

It is an ancient piece of literature and must be understood and respected as that before you can place judgment on it. You would never read Plato the same way you would read today’s newspaper, a best selling novel, or a modern biography. You would expect to have to study it, to understand something of the history and purpose behind it, the setting, the audience, and the genre. Those who do the same with the Biblical text will be miles ahead of most others.

For example, in the narrative of Jesus in the book of John, the author writes that Jesus’ first miracle was turning water into wine at a wedding. Keep in mind that the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John) are not, and were never intended to be understood as, eyewitness accounts, nor were they written haphazardly. The author has a very specific message and so tells the story in a way to convey that message effectively. Everything from the shape of the plot to the language used aims to drive home this message to a specific audience at a specific time. So, a scholar would read this story and ask herself, “Knowing what I do about the intentions of the author, the intended audience, and the historical situation, why did the author not only include this Jesus miracle story but place it as his first miracle? What purpose does it serve?” After understanding all of that, you may commence to debate the truth in the text.

The Bible also must be understood at least as literature that is 2000+ years old representing several authors, many cultures, and even different belief systems. Of course it contains contradictions and inconsistencies. Does that mean it should be automatically discounted? Not necessarily. If it were a Biology or Physics textbook, maybe (unless the Physics textbook included both Newtonian and Quantum Physics, which do appear to contradict). However, a compilation of 66 separate writings across thousands of years recording various people’s experiences and ideas about God must contain inconsistencies if it’s to be taken seriously.

I am not taking sides on the debate here, just trying to raise the intellectual level of the conversation on both sides.

the fifth veil

This is part five of a seven part series. Read parts one, two, three and four first.

With the dropping of the fifth veil, Robbins exposes another god: money. He says, “Preoccupied with it, dominated- and ultimately bewildered- by it, introspective men and women finally had to confess that it clouded their vision of the world… when the fifth veil falls, and with it the illusion of financial worth, individuals might recognize themselves again, might find themselves standing, as if naked, among ancient values in a long- lost landscape.”

How much are we motivated by money? How many of our decisions are based more on the financial impact than anything else?

Some would argue that without financial incentive we would not be as productive. But then, what is the definition of productive? Is making more and more stuff productive? Is convincing others to consume more and more productive? What is the inherent value in love, happiness, enjoyment of the simple things of life?

And what is the ultimate cost of pursuing primarily money? What is given up for the accumulation of stuff? Where I work, I see young people making lifetime career decision based on which field within their ability will yield the highest income. They are not solely to blame. We sell education to them based largely on the incentive of more money. Now, I’m not against higher education. I’m very much for it. I just think that making more money is a weak goal, one that either cannot sustain enthusiasm or will prove to lead to a shallow existence.

Shallow existence seems to work just fine for many, though. How many really care about self-actualization? That would cost a great deal. It may cost giving up not only financial incentive, but also popularity, comfort, and security. But those are all fleeting and unreliable anyway, merely an illusion.

as I eat another piece of pie...

A friend of mine sent me this article from the Ayn Rand Center for Individual Rights. He thought I would find it interesting not only because it's about Thanksgiving, but because my name comes from a character, Dagny Taggert, of one of her novels, Atlas Shrugged. The article superimposes Rand's philosophy onto Thanksgiving, asking the question, "who should we be thanking?"

It was written in 2007, just before or maybe in the beginning of the economic collapse. I agree with the philosophy to a point, but I think it can be very shallow and short-sided. Many people around the world work just as hard or harder than I, but they will never enjoy the luxuries that I do. There's also too much of the "might makes right" mentality there. The native cultures of this land and others that we have colonized and otherwise conquered were just fine before Europeans, then later Americans, came in, obliterated them, and introduced our fine life.

There is a sadness and defeat that comes with the American culture of gluttony. We need more and more to make us happy, and we never really are truly happy. Just a thought to open this Christmas season. Happy Black Friday.

when a plan comes together

I teach language arts in the Adult Continuing Education department at Kansas City Kansas Community College. Most of the students in our On Track program are working toward passing the GED. A few, though, already have their high school diplomas but need some classes to prepare them for the college placement exam.

Last week, two of my students proudly announced to me that they scored high enough on the placement exams to be accepted into college, and now both are enrolled. One even brought me his schedule to show off. I am bursting with pride for both of them. They have worked incredibly hard these past few months, and I can see the difference not only in their reading and writing skills, but also in their confidence.

Congratulations to both of you, and best of luck to all my students taking the GED in a few weeks. I know you will all knock the socks off that test.

know your rights

We talked about the Bill of Rights today in class. Some of the rights were vaguely familiar to my students, some of them brand new. None of my students had ever read them in their original language. I had a whole lesson prepared, but just reading through them one by one led to so much discussion that I never made it to the planned lesson. Their questions were unending, "What about this situation..." "What would happen if..." "Would I have the right to..." "I know of this one person who..."

It was some of the best discussion we've had this year. It brought to light for me how few people really know and understand their individual rights, but also excited me that they were so interested in learning about them. Maybe I'll bring in a recent Supreme Court case and ask how they would decide were they justices. Any suggestions of a good case I could bring to class?

friday

The Olathe Community Orchestra plays its next concert on Sunday, Nov. 22 at 3:00 at the Olathe Performing Arts Center. Admission is free, and the program includes Bizet, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, and Schubert.

opportunity

My college is still looking for an evening Social Studies/Language Arts instructor. For more information, go to the link for KCK Community College.

the ebony clock chimed midnight

We studied Edgar Allan Poe in class yesterday. Scary man, scary life, scary writing. He does an amazing job of delving into the deepest, darkest places of the human psyche and playing on our greatest fears. I read “The Masque of the Red Death” to the class, and some were actually caught up in the story. Without my prompting, even, they started talking about the various symbols, mood, and theme. They identified the literary allusions and even drew parallels to contemporary society. The best part was when, after class, one woman said, “this isn’t something I ever would have read on my own, but I really enjoyed it. When are we going to read some more?”

Ah, I’m developing some great plans for these students.

what did wednesday ever do to you?

I’m questioning the wisdom of teaching grammar on Mondays. Really, there are few subjects in language arts duller than grammar (my apologies to Lynn Truss), and Mondays are already dreary enough by their very nature, so why would I compound the problem?

I can’t teach it on Thursdays, though, because no one wants to end the week with grammar, and Tuesdays are only marginally better than Mondays. But the grammar must be taught, so that leaves Wednesdays. I am so very sorry to do that to you, Wednesday, but you were in such a vulnerable position.

Monday, from now on, shall be something more fun. I’m thinking creative writing, or maybe drama or poetry? Mondays deserve that. Oh, and a big mug of coffee. Mondays definitely deserve that.

the fourth veil

This is part four of a seven part series. Read parts one, two, and three first.

Robbins lets loose on organized religion in the fourth section of the book. He says that when the fourth veil is removed we will see that, “organized religion [is] a major obstacle to peace and understanding…religion is a paramount contributor to human misery. It is not merely the opium of the masses, it is the cyanide.”

To those who would point to the comfort that religion brings millions, he responds that, “the Deity does not dawdle in the comfort zone! If one yearns to see the face of the divine, one must break out of the aquarium, escape the fish farm, to go swim up wild cataracts, dive in deep fjords.”

He is right. Religion has been used as a weapon of much evil and violence. I believe, however, that religion is merely the weapon used and not the source of the evil. It seems that as a human race we are bent on discord over peace, anger over compassion, and self-preservation over justice. If it is not religion, then it is some other weapon wielded. Faith can also be the source of great good and courageous efforts of humanity. But then, even those without faith have been known to be great humanitarians.

When religion becomes a comfort zone, when it encourages people to be satisfied with the status quo, then it truly is an opium. Exceptional religious leaders have instigated great unrest and change, fighting social evils and bringing justice to millions. They are too often the exception, though.

Some within the church complain that faith has become too individualistic, more about “what’s in it for me” rather than community. This is true. On the other hand, it is often not individualized enough, more about believing what I’ve been told because I’m a member of this, that, or the other, rather than listening to one’s own voice and discovering for one’s self what is most reasonable and most life-giving.

Maybe once the fourth veil is removed we will all be surprised.

almost speechless

Think the women’s rights battle is over? Not even close. In case you haven’t heard, a recent bill was introduced in the Senate prohibiting the Department of Defense from working with contractors “if they restrict their employees from taking workplace sexual assault, battery and discrimination cases to court.” This bill was introduced in response to an incident where a woman who worked for Halliburton/KBR was gang raped and tortured, but can not sue the company because of a clause in her employment contract. I’m sure when she signed the contract she had no idea that she would be the victim of such atrocious violence, especially at the hands of those within her company.

The bill passed, but sadly, 30 senators actually voted against it. An outraged public has nicknamed them “Republicans for Rape.” Yes, there are always at least two sides to every story, and they have their reasons for voting against the bill. None of those reasons is adequate, though. Oh, and guess what? Not only are all 30 who voted against the bill Republican (though not all Republicans voted against the bill), but also they are all men.

It is time for an end to the good ol’ boys club. If you agree, go to this website for a list of the senators who voted against the bill. If one of them represents you, write him a letter. Otherwise, write to Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell.

all I want is all you want

My new good friend and colleague Kai Michelle McCoy is a little bummed that I haven’t talked about her in my blog yet so, Michelle, oh beautiful, vivacious, funny, thoughtful, warm-hearted Michelle, this blog’s for you.

Yesterday, driving back to school in her car, she played me one of her favorite Joni Mitchell tunes, “All I Want.” Wonderful song, Michelle, thanks. I greatly appreciate new friends who introduce me to new music.

We have reached the middle of this semester. It’s been exciting to watch the progress of my students so far this fall, and I have great hope for the next quarter. As I watch them move forward, it is always in the back of my mind that they will all move on soon. I get to witness and participate in only a small fraction of their lives’ journeys. I know what they have shared with me of their pasts, but I will probably not know their futures. Will she succeed in nursing school as she has dreamed of her whole life? Will he own his own business someday? Will he be a great writer?

Will they all really and truly believe in themselves for the rest of their lives?

is there a god? does it matter?

The top twitter trending topic for much of last night was "no god." I couldn't keep up with the tens of thousands of tweets that poured in, but of those I read, it looked like the "there is no god" tweets were beating out the "yes there is a god!" tweets. My question is, what difference does belief make?

Read more and make your comments here.

talk to me

I was invited to a free thinkers discussion group this past weekend. We met at a coffee shop, watched a Discovery movie about “Ardi,” the oldest skeleton found, then discussed the movie and any other topic that came up. Most people were atheists except for one agnostic and me. They didn’t hold it against me. The discussion was free and open, more of an exchange of ideas than debate. I was impressed with how well informed everyone was, even about religion. Many of them knew the Bible and Christian doctrine better than most Christians. They also understood the basics of other religions and were well read on the evening’s main topic. What struck me the most, though, was how free the conversation was. No idea was rejected, everyone freely contributed without fear of saying something wrong, and we all came away with increased knowledge and perspective. No one tried to convince anyone of a certain viewpoint, but instead we all asked each other probing questions. Who wouldn’t want to join a group like this?

the sun will still shine

Took a long walk through the woods yesterday afternoon and allowed the sunshine to soak through my skin all the way to my soul. The leaves exploded with color while the grass was still as green as in spring. Guess the week’s worth of rain was worth it. How sad it would have been to suffer through an entire week of rain and not celebrate a glorious hour in the sunshine. So, even if you are suffering or in a sad place now, keep your eyes open for the sun, for you never know when it will appear. When it does, waste no time running outside, laughing at the sky, rolling in the grass, and embracing the beauty.

the third veil

This is the third part of a seven part series. Read parts one and two first.

The third veil is the veil of political illusion, of blindly following our leaders to the point of giving up our freedom. We thus suffer a death of the soul long before the death of the body and actually believe that it is unavoidable or, even worse, commendable and necessary.

One of Robbins’s main characters peeks under the veil and realizes that, “Freedom could not be owned. Therefore, it could not be appropriated. Or controlled. It could, however, be relinquished.” Sadly, because of the veil of political illusion, most do not even know that they have relinquished their freedom.

Politicians, world leaders, dictators, bureaucrats, and tyrants wield the power they do only because people have handed it to them. Sadly, when those who could retain or reclaim their freedom choose to relinquish it, they infuse political leaders with the power to not only control them, but also to control and oppress those who never had an opportunity to know freedom.

Where in your own life have you handed over your freedom, allowed someone else to make your decisions and determine the course of your life?

"Paranormal Activity" scary for its realism

I've decided to start a Dangerous Movies series to go along with my Dangerous Books series. No, not just because a movie is so much faster to get through than a book. Well, ok, maybe that is a big motivator.

On opening day I went to a matinee of "Paranormal Activity," me and 10 teenagers who all sat about 15 rows behind me. So there I was, all by myself, watching this terrifying movie. And yes, it was very scary. So, are there really demons out there? Maybe, maybe not, but we all definitely battle our own demons, and that's probably the scariest part of the movie.

Read more.

Tweet it! At the top of my Examiner articles is now a button you can click to quickly and easily tweet the link to the article.

Did Wordsworth know about poppin'?

Me: R____, [one of my students] I want to use some rap lyrics in class for studying poetry. Do you know which artists have clean lyrics?

R___: [laughing and looking at me in disbelief] You want a rap artist with clean lyrics? G___, do you know any rap artists with clean lyrics? [G___ smiles and shakes her head] D____, you know rap better than me. Ms. Pullin wants to know a rap artist with clean lyrics.

D____: [chuckles and give me his shy smile] Clean lyrics? Well, Ms. Pullin, there’s explicit, and then there’s not as explicit. The radio mixes are better than the original lyrics.

R___: How about R&B, Ms.Pullin?

Me: Ok, who’s an R&B artist you would recommend?

R___: Chris Brown. Look up some of his lyrics.

[R___, D____ and I google Chris Brown lyrics, and they suggest the song Poppin’. I read through the lyrics.]

Me: Um, ok. These seem to be clean. What does “poppin’” mean?

R___: You know, Ms.Pullin. [breaks into dancing]

Me: Got it. What about this word, “crunk.” What does that mean?

D___: Well, Ms.Pullin, that’s like, come on, let’s crunk.

Me: Ah, got it. [I lift up a quick, silent prayer: oh please god, please let “crunk” not be an explicit word.]

So, yeah, we read Chris Brown’s “Poppin’” in class. Some highlights:

She throwing her hair

She working them jeans

She talking that talk just li, li, like I like it

She keep it on and poppin’

Shawty keep it on and poppin’

That and William Wordsworth. They had a hard time understanding him but tried to flow it, and I helped them with his language. I had difficulty understanding the Brown, but they helped me out. They have also promised to teach me how to crunk (and yes, I know what the urban dictionary says the definition is, but it’s different in this context). So, we’re all learning.

yummy

Last night, as I baked batch after batch of cookies for my students (this week’s request- peanut butter chocolate chip) I asked myself, “why am I doing this? Am I trying to win their favor or approval?” I pondered that, but decided that no, I’m not trying to win their affection. The truth is, I don’t really care whether they love or even like me. I want them to learn; I want them to enjoy class so that they have a positive experience of higher education. I make the cookies, though, not for their gratitude or love, but because I care for them, and this is one expression of my affection.

Maybe it was the house I was raised in. Mom always baked cinnamon rolls for her dear friends. I remember her pans covering the kitchen counters, table, even the floor at Christmas time. Baking time (and we’re talking days on end) filled the house with warmth and sweet smells, like a big sugary hug. I can’t make rolls like mom (dough won’t rise for me; it’s a curse), but I can make cookies. They are my signature. When I was a campus minister, I delivered homemade cookies to new students. At Christmas, friends and family receive hand decorated sugar cookies. And for my dear students, a new cookie flavor every week. I love you all, even when I glare or raise my voice. I love you.

are we laughing or crying?

I was pondering yesterday the three categories of Shakespearean plays: comedy, tragedy, and history (had lots of pondering time since my classes were test taking). If our lives are plays that we write, as many literary giants suggest, what kind of play or movie would you like to write? Is what you want to write what you actually are writing? The movie “Stranger than Fiction” takes an interesting twist on this idea, where the main character’s life is actually being written by a novelist whose voice he hears in his head. He desperately tries to figure out what kind of story she’s writing, and is saddened to discover that she only writes tragedies. That’s better than a history, though. Remember our lesson from last week? You can identify histories because they bore you to tears.

Might there be another category, though? Just because everyone survives to the end, does it have to be a comedy? Maybe so, but maybe it can be a comedy with pith. We laugh often and with great gusto, but there are also profound moments of joy, beauty and pain. I think I’ve heard the term dramedy before. Yes, dramedy would be my preferred genre.

Republican Olympia Snowe votes the way she wants, Republican party be damned

I love women who kick ass. Can I say ass? Sure, it's my personal blog. I can say what I want. She's not looking for media attention- if anything, she's tried to avoid it, but after thorough research and lots and lots of deliberation, she chose to vote for the health care reform bill in the Senate Finance Committee. No promises yet as to how she'll vote on the floor.

Read more about how Snowe makes her decisions.

Oh, and by the way, the coolest fact about Snowe is that her birth date is February 21. Yep, that's right, the same as yours truly. It's like she's a long lost sister.

monday, monday

This is my Monday morning conversation with my second class:

“Good morning, everybody. It’s incredibly quiet in here. Did you all have a good weekend?”

“It was ok. How was your weekend, Ms. Pullin?” (from the unofficial spokeswoman)

“Not bad.”

“You missed us though, didn’t you?”

“Of course I missed you all. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Because we’re your favorite class, right?”
“Oh, you know you’re my favorite class. I love you the most.”

“Yeah, you probably say that to all your classes.”

“How can you say such a thing?”

Just in case any of my students reads my blog, I won’t say who is my favorite class (but you know it’s really you, don’t you?)

worshipping at Beth Torah

It's been a while since I've written a church highlight, so sorry. This past Friday night I worshipped at Beth Torah, a synagogue in Overland Park. It was an awesome experience. They were warm, hospitable, and delightful. As luck would have it, it was a holiday, Simchat Torah, a celebration that involves, among other things, dancing around the sanctuary several times. Great night!

Read more about it.

the second veil

This entry is the second part of a seven part series. It will make much more sense if you’ve read part one.

When the second veil is removed humans will see that the world around them that they consider dead, lifeless, motionless, or less important is alive and active. “The inanimate world appears static, ‘dead,’ to humans only because of our neuromuscular chauvinism. We are so enamored of our own activity range that we blind ourselves to the fact that most of the action of the universe is unfolding outside our range…”

We are blind to that around us which moves significantly slower (the liquid flow of glass) or faster (the zipping of electrons) than our own bodies. How can we be expected to stop long enough to watch a river change its course? We also miss that which is too small or too big to detect with the naked eye. They can make for some fun pictures in high school science, but then are quickly forgotten.

When we see and recognize all that is alive around us, we will be able to appreciate the intimate relationship we all share. Our arrogance toward the supposed inanimate world will be replaced by an openness to learning, our fear and trepidation by mutual giving and receiving. This goes far beyond care for the earth. It is more a living with and among all that is in the universe.

when you're a jet you're a jet

We watched West Side Story yesterday in class. It was to present the Romeo and Juliet drama in a fun way. Of course, I choked up at the end when Maria was singing to her dying Tony. I thought I hid it well until one of my students said,

“Ms. Pullin, why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” I said, “why would I be crying?”

After watching the movie, we talked about the theme of violence, and I gave them the assignment to brainstorm ideas to the essay question, “What are some of the causes of violence and how could they be addressed?” They surprised me with their insight and knowledge about the causes of violence, but I was saddened when most of them said that they could think of no way to adequately address the causes.

One student was especially insightful in identifying the causes, dividing them into three main categories: religion, race and land/territory/power/money. He broke down each category into several specific problems. When it came time to address the problems, though, he only came up with one idea; get rid of religion. Interesting idea. I’m discovering that this is a very pervasive thought among my students and other young people I’m meeting.

say what you want

I’ve often wondered the motivation behind the hurtful words we sometimes throw at other people. In my own life, when I have said cruel things to those I love it is almost always from a place of hurt or frustration. But why say mean things to a stranger? I used to think it was just a nasty attitude, but I now suspect that it, too, comes from a place of hurt or anger. Perhaps some people have no one close to them to whom they can safely lash out. Perhaps they have hidden fears that they are afraid of revealing. Maybe they are not even aware of how much they are hurting inside. We all have wounds, some easily identifiable, some festering inside undetected until they become so huge that we can no longer ignore them. Or maybe some have never known real pain but see it all around them and have a real fear that it may someday touch them. With this in mind, perhaps the healthy, though difficult, response to cruel words is sympathy rather than retaliation.

This is why I wake up every morning

My students learned yesterday that the major theme in Romeo and Juliet is not romance, and in fact Shakespeare, though he wrote many love sonnets, didn’t write romance plays. I tried to make it very simple for them. If the main characters die at the end, it’s a tragedy. If they don’t die, it’s a comedy. If it bores you to tears, it’s a history. I ignored the comments of a few that all Shakespeare bores them to tears, and they agreed to watch the movie “O” with me on Thursday, provided, of course, I bring cookies again. This week’s request is Snickerdoodle.

I must admit, I’m surprised at how quickly I’ve grown attached to these students. I feel as if we’re all on this endeavor together. Their gains are my gains; their frustrations are mine as well. My driving force for waking up early every morning now is not the paycheck, but the assurance that they will be there waiting for me, ready to take the next small step in their educations and their lives. What a great privilege it is to be there walking beside them.

Venison, it's what's for dinner

Just in case you didn't mark your calendar, now is the time. The city is brining out the sharpshooters to cull the deer herd at Shawnee Mission Park from 200 per square mile to a meager and manageable 50. It's not going to be pretty, that's for sure. In one final effort to stop these efforts, protesters blocked the entrance to the park today. They managed to draw the attention of the news, but didn't accomplish much else. Oh well. I'm sure didn't expect to have a huge impact on the outcome, but are satisfied that their voices were heard.

What does this have to do with our lives? Read here.

look closely

This tree greeted me at the end of my run yesterday. It was very unassuming: didn’t wave or shout out to me. It just stood there looking at me. I stopped and looked back at it. When it was satisfied that it had my attention, it pointed up to the sky, and so I lay down and looked up.

“There’s nothing up there, “ I said.

The tree glared at me then pointed up again. So I looked again, this time relaxing a little more, taking a little more time, listening, inhaling deeply, waiting.

And there it was, just as the tree had told me it would be.

the first veil

In my spare time I’ve been reading Tom Robbins’s “Skinny Legs and All.” I considered it for my dangerous book series, but decided it was a little too dangerous for the online journal and could possibly get me fired. So, I will tell you all about it here on my personal blog, where I can only get in a little bit of trouble.

As with all of his works, “Skinny Legs et al.” is a grand adventure in convoluted metaphors and meandering plot lines. At the core of it, though, is a profound message about the souls of inanimate objects and the very unromantic romance of Ellen and Boomer. You and me, we can do anything.

Surrounding this core, though, are his diatribes on peace, religion, love, sex, and humanity as he revises the revisionist history of the Old Testament, a revision which includes painting Jezebel in a completely different light. Instead of an evil, seductive queen, she is a strong, faithful, passionate, and dignified monarch, stately to the very end.

The book is divided into seven sections, one for each veil in Salome’s infamous dance of the seven veils. Each veil obscures a truth about our world which, when someday lifted, will reveal all mysteries and end all wars. So, for the next seven weeks, I will devote Mondays to exploring each of these veils.

The first veil is intimately associated with the goddess whom Jezebel worshiped. Robbins says, “the first of those veils conceals the repression of the Goddess, masks the sexual face of the planet, drapes the ancient foundation stone of erotic terror that props up modern man’s religion.”

Over and against the worship of the Goddess Robbins pits the patriarchal Yahweh cult. “Because the Goddess was changeable and playful, because she looked upon natural chaos as lovingly as she did natural order, because her warm feminine intuition was often at odds with cool masculine reason…resentful priests of a tribe of nomadic Hebrews led a coup against her…men control the divine channels now, and while that control may be largely an illusion, their laws, institutions, and elaborate weaponry exist primarily to maintain it.”

See, I told you it was dangerous. Robbins must be one of the most adamant, strongly opinionated feminists of his time.

this book's for you

This week was banned book week. The idea of banning books is a curious one. It is a reaction of fear, not unlike fascism, or the denying of formal education to classes or groups of people. What will happen if they read this? They will get ideas, they will question our indoctrination, they will be more difficult to control. A week that uncovers this tendency toward ignorance intrigues me. Our school library published a list of the most popular banned books, encouraging students to check one out and read it. Web sites devoted to banned books abound, including my own “Dangerous Book” series. In fact, it seems that most often the effect of banning is exactly the opposite of that intended. Books that may have sat on shelves for decades gathering dust are instead snatched up and poured over. I wonder whether some authors even intentionally include controversial material in their writing in hopes that someone somewhere will ban it, thus gaining free publicity and instant popularity. If so, it’s a brilliant idea. I encourage you to scoff ignorance. Go out this weekend and pick up something off the banned book list. Let me know if you like it.

Don't leave an empty seat

I had one of those moments today that can keep a teacher going for a long time. As I was passing back papers to my students one of them, after reading the comments I had written, looked up at me with bright eyes and said, “I’m getting better, aren’t I Ms. Pullin?” I smiled back and said, “Yes, you really are.” He smiled and looked at his girlfriend with pride on his face. His plan is to join the navy in three months, and my eyes are welling up even as I type this. Oh, please God, don’t send him to war.

Hugh Jackman, cell phones, and life

Yeah, it was one of those moments that some will remember for a lifetime, either with laughter or mortification. Apparently, Broadway shows don't have the cute little videos that movie theaters sport reminding viewers to turn their phones to silent. So, Hugh Jackman had to remind someone himself, right in the middle of a tense scene in his live performance. No, mom, I can't talk now!!

read more and see video

gather ye rosebuds

Most of my class stared at me dully when I announced that we would be looking at poetry. A few said they liked it, but most said it was boring or that they didn’t understand it. Shakespeare, especially, they all hated, mainly because his language is so archaic and makes no sense to them. They laughed, though, when I read his humorous Sonnet 130. And when one of the sassiest women in my class stood up and read Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal Woman,” complete with hip swings and head thrown back, the class clapped and cheered for her. Maybe it’s not that they don’t like poetry, maybe it’s just that they’ve never taken time with it, never had the opportunity to sit in its presence, listen to it, dwell with it, laugh at it together, cry at the “Ballad of Birmingham.” Not that they would admit it, but I think a few more people liked poetry at the end of the day than at the beginning.

Joe-College t-shirts ordered to pay KU Athletics $667,507

That's a whole lot of t-shirts. I mean, you could probably sell a shirt to every person at a KU football game and still not come up with that kind of money. So where is all that money going to go? That's right, to the lawyers, God bless them. Of course, they have families to feed, too, but could this have been avoided?

Read more and share your thoughts here.

my happy place

I asked my students today to write about what their perfect rooms would look like. A few of them shared with the class, and this may have been their most interesting feedback so far. One had a room that sounded like a club, another a room that sounded suspiciously like the playboy mansion (at least what it looks like on TV). One man’s sounded very serene with a big window facing east to let in the morning sunshine and peaceful music playing on hidden speakers. I had no idea how self-revealing this assignment would be, but in describing their ideal spaces they were describing something of the spaces within them. I learned that the sacred and holy appears very differently to different people. Different as our sacred spaces may be, though, we all embody and live within the holy. It’s a tiny peek at the vastness of god.

journeys

Last night I attended a going away party for a foster child of some friends. They’ve had the little boy since he was 3 weeks old, and he’s now almost a year and a half. He had a great sendoff with gifts, toys, letters, a photo album, and lots of friends. As we ate, talked, and laughed together, I thought about how I was truly impressed by the great amount of love displayed by these men. They have taken in several foster children in the last few years, and though they know from the beginning they will most likely have to say good-bye, they pour out their love and care into the children for the short amount of time that they are their parents. It takes an amazing quality to be able to love and then let go like that. There is sadness in the good-bye, of course, but they do it with great courage and generosity, and then open their arms up to the next child who needs their love. What a beautiful place to start life.

Dangerous Book: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

I reviewed this book in response to a reader's request. Yes, it's another book from the 70's, published the year I was born, but still so very true today. Though I don't know that it's ever been banned (too dense for people who normally ban books to understand), it is one of the more dangerous books I've read. If you are brave enough to read it, you'll want a firm grasp on your sanity. Or not. Actually, it may be best to approach it with a willingness to let go of your sanity. It's all an illusion, anyway.

Read review here.

Simple living

I’ve had to make some lifestyle changes recently, live more simply and frugally. It’s not new to me; I’ve been poor before. Actually, I shouldn’t say poor. I have a good job, no debts, a roof over my head, a car to drive, and no worries about whether I’ll have food to eat. Many people do not have these luxuries, so I’m not poor. I have had a significant decrease in income level, though, so have found ways to simplify life.

1. No more manis and pedis: I didn’t grow up with regular visits to the salon, so this isn’t too hard to give up. I have noticed, though, that it’s a little more difficult to give up beauty treatments at 35 than it was at 25. But, that’s just all the more incentive to keep up my workout routine. If I maintain a kickin’ body, who’s going to notice my nails?
2. Less eating out: Since most restaurants’ meals are way too big, and fast food is just plain gross when you think about it, this isn’t a bad thing. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, and I’m trying to incorporate more fresh produce into my meals (without cutting back on necessities like cookies and ice cream). This is also the perfect time to enroll in a cooking class at the college where I teach, since I can take classes for free there.
3. Free entertainment: The possibilities here abound. Kansas City is lush with free or cheap museums and beautiful parks. The coffee shop I live above has free movies on Friday nights and free live music on Saturday nights. Instead of attending the symphony, I joined a community orchestra (whose concerts are free, go to www.olatheorchestra.org). As a big plus, this led to my joining a professional quartet. Instead of attending sporting events or watching football in a sports grill, I play Ultimate Frisbee pick-up games, which has the triple bonus of avoiding the nasty nachos, playing at no cost, and getting a great work-out. In fact, I’m less and less sore after every game now.

This is just the beginning. I’m finding that simpler living can actually lead to richer, healthier living. That said, I’m not giving up the pedis forever. They will be first back on the list.

a spoonful of sugar

First, thank you to all who e-mailed me about yesterday’s blog post. I didn’t know the affect it would have on other women. Your voices can be heard.

I baked cookies for my students today. It’s that whole Mary Poppins “just a spoonful of sugar,” philosophy. What’s the medicine, you ask? Well, a whole day of modifiers yesterday: prepositional and verbal phrases, misplaced modifiers, dangling modifiers. They all had this glazed over look in their eyes by the end of class, even my best students. Heck, I had a glazed over look in my eyes. I know the grammar bores them to tears, but they’re hanging in there, and I admire them for that. I can already see an improvement in their writing skills, so it’s paying off.

I had to come down pretty hard on a few students who are still learning how to respect authority. It’s tough on my soul, especially since my soul still isn’t up to full strength. I know resisting authority has been a necessary survival technique for several, and so I try to find the right combination of compassionate patience and firmness. But by the end of the day, I just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.

Instead, I baked cookies. A spoonful of sugar for me, too.

Story of courage

I recently met and befriended a young woman, “Susan,” whom I greatly admire. She shared with me her story, and it is one of great courage. She has given me permission to share her story (but not her real name) with you.

In college, Susan was the victim of date rape. She was emotionally devastated by the incident but afraid to report it. The man was very popular on the campus, charming and well-liked. She feared that no one would believe her, and that would only deepen her emotional trauma. With the encouragement and help from a very good friend, though, she did finally report the incident. When it came out, the initial response was mixed. Many supported her, but others did not believe her. Eventually, though, other women that the man had victimized also came forward. They, too, had feared coming out with the truth, but when they stood together and gave all their stories, the pattern of his behavior was undeniable. He faced very real consequences for his actions, and Susan told me that all of the women who testified said that, difficult as the process was, they found a peace that they had not known before. They felt a certain release, and were relieved to finally know that he could not harm more women.

I admire Susan and all women who find the strength to stand up for themselves, even when it is painful and difficult. She is now working in a place where she helps other women find the strength and support they need to take charge of their lives, especially when it means taking risks and naming truth.

it's only life, after all

My students are learning grammar, reading comprehension, and writing skills from me. From them, I am learning what it means to forge ahead in life even when you have been dealt a bad hand, how to pick yourself up and keep going, and how to develop new dreams for the future. They are very real in what they share with me in their writing, and I feel incredibly privileged that they allow me a glimpse into their realities. The inner strength that many possess is remarkable; I am truly in awe. While I am helping them reach educational goals and instill confidence in themselves, they are teaching me that as ugly and messy as life sometimes is, we go on. We have to.

Winning is about a lot more than winning the game

Matt Ziesel, freshman at St. Joseph Benton High School, wanted nothing more than for coach to put him in the game. So, in the last 10 seconds of the season's third game, coach put him in and called for the "Matt play." Thanks to some great teammates and a rival team with big hearts, Ziesel scored a 60-yard touchdown on his very first play of the season.

Read more and watch the video here.

Celebration

Spirit of Hope MCC was packed yesterday. It was the installment of the new senior pastor and the blessing of the former senior pastor as he moves into retirement. We were blessed with joyful music, liturgical dancers, a brief history of the denomination and local congregation, and an inspiring sermon. After the service, everyone headed downstairs for a fried chicken lunch. I love this congregation more and more every time I attend. Accepting and loving anyone and everyone comes so naturally to them that it doesn’t even seem to require any effort. It’s just who they are. It was a church created for the outcasts, which is many more of us than we care to admit. It is usually the most honest who come to realize that they are the outcasts, and to tell the truth, there is some peace that comes with that recognition.

Or maybe not

I used Hemingway as an example in class when talking about the different uses of the word “tight.” He uses it to mean “drunk.” I haven’t read Hemingway in a long time, and for a brief moment I thought maybe I should pick up one of his books to read. Then I came back to my senses. Why do that to myself?

Should we laugh or cry?

A young man burglarizing a home decided to stop to check his facebook page before leaving. Apparently he was not a detail oriented person, so he forgot to log off before leaving. The owner comes home, finds the broken window, eventually looks at her computer, and there he is. Wonder what his status update was.

Read more of my thoughts on this.

What is the teacher reading?

I am reading “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” for my dangerous book series. It’s slow going, though, to be honest. It’s not that I don’t love the book; it’s one of my favorites. Maybe it’s just a little too morose for me right now, or maybe I’m struggling because I know how it ends, and I don’t want to go there. The philosophy in it has always intrigued me, though, so I will continue. In fact, I make a pledge to you, my readers, to complete the book and write an article on it by next week. Also, I will be visiting a synagogue for my next place of worship highlight, so if anyone has a recommendation, I’m open. I have already been advised to wait until after Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, so it will be in a few weeks.

Reading Comprehension

I learned some new vocabulary in class today. If something is “bussy” that means it’s “tight,” (cool, great). If I say “this meal’s on fire,” that doesn’t mean it’s spicy, it means it tastes good. The list goes on, some more appropriate than others. For example, I had no idea there were so many words for someone who was drunk. Yes, that’s right, we were talking about figurative language in Language Arts today, and my students caught on very quickly and gave me several of their own examples. Of course, when I threw out a few of my own, they looked at me strangely.

“Class, what do I mean when I say that movie bombed?”

“It was a great movie?”

“No, not that the movie was the bomb. The movie bombed.”

“We have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I’ve never felt so old. I don’t know if it’s a generational or cultural gap. Maybe both. But I laughed and had a good time with them, and they thought that was really dope of me.

At Peace

As I was tucking in my daughter last night, she said, “Mommy, my head is tired, but my body still has energy.” I had to laugh. That’s how I feel sometimes after a day of teaching and writing. My head is exhausted, but my body wants to go for a run. They argue about it for a while, take turns letting the other win. The best is when they are both tired, or both energetic, at the same time. Then they are unstoppable. Or very relaxed. Either way, it’s a peaceful way to be.

Moving forward

Last week I asked one of my classes to write a paragraph about a difficult decision they had faced, what they decided or didn’t decide, and the consequences of that decision. I was surprised by how candid many were in their papers. I was also surprised at how much adversity these young people have faced in life already. They are all pressing forward, though, hopeful for something better. For many of them, their past decisions will follow them for a long time, but they are finding new strength. What an incredible privilege to work with such individuals.

The great Serena Williams

In a tense match point at the US Open, an unwise line judge called a foot fault on Serena Williams. Honestly, this judge can not have been thinking clearly, but that's neither here nor there. Williams lost her temper, the judge scampered over to the tournament ref, and Williams was disqualified from the tournament. And so now more people are watching the US Open on youtube than would have watched otherwise. It's great coverage for the other player, too, what's her name.

But don't criticize Williams. It's her fire that makes her great.

Raymore police shoot family cat. Oops.

I tried not to laugh when I read this story. It's really very sad. Seriously, though, a little over the top? The image of the police taking a 19 year old house cat out to a field and executing it reminds of a very bad Mel Brooks movie.

Anyway, of course I had to write an article about it.

Don't say good-bye

Well, summer is officially over. That’s right; the Halloween candy is stocked and the haunted house billboards are up. The holiday season is upon us. Time for those with SAD to up their dosage and turn on their lights. But wait, it’s still over 80 everyday, most of the leaves are still green, and the grocery store is still carrying the summer ale. Why are we always so anxious to jump into the next season? Let’s enjoy every last drop of what is before us, first. I’m even considering wearing my white cotton pants this weekend, a full week after labor day. So there.

this day

Yesterday, I asked my students to write a paragraph on “the best day of my life.” One young woman asked me, “what if I don’t have one?” I told her to just write about a really good day. “I don’t have one of those, either,” she said. So, holding back any sign of tears, I told her to write about what her best day would look like if she could design it. She smiled and began writing. Do you have a best day yet? Are you working on writing a new one?

Steve Jobs, his Apple, and his liver

Welcome back, Steve! We're all so happy to see you. Would you look at the amazing liver on that guy? Ok, so he's back big time now, addressing his adoring fans, rescuing Apple, and leaping tall buildings in a single bound.

Brand spanking new article:

What will you and your liver do in this life?

Call and response

Happy Wednesday, my blog friends. Ok, so I’ve been slack in my Examiner articles, so I need some inspiration from all of you. Let me know what you would like me to write about next. It can be a breaking news item, a doctrinal question, a Biblical quandary, or the question of the meaning of life (since we already know the answer is 42. We do know that, right?) Please, just no 600 page books.

It's harder than it looks

It’s one of those short work weeks- just three days of teaching for me. Ah, but those short ones can be deceiving. It’s like running suicides in basketball practice. On Wednesdays, instead of 10, we would run just 5. Half the amount! So, instead of psyching myself up for running, I would go in with the mindset of, “oh, this will be no problem,” and those 5 somehow ended up more painful than the 10. So, instead of thinking, “this short week will be no problem,” I’m thinking, “ok, 3 whole days of teaching ahead of me. Better gear up. Watch out, students, we’ve got a lot to learn.”

Happy Labor Day

In honor of labor day, my coffee shop is closed. I’m glad for Rebecca, of course, but sad for me, as I will be working on lesson plans that I put off all weekend. Fortunately, I restocked with a pound of Sumatra beans on Friday, so should be good to go. Maybe I’ll even write an article today, since my Van Jones article seemed to hit a sore spot with many of my readers.

End of the week

After my first week of teaching, I have a whole new level of respect for all the teachers I’ve had, and I’d like to apologize to all of them for making their jobs more difficult. It’s not easy to hold the attention of a classroom of students, no matter their ages, and reading papers is just plain taxing. It makes me wonder why any professor assigns a paper more than 2 pages long. It is rewarding too, though. To watch a student finally get it, or to hear her voice finally come out in her writing, is a joy to witness and in which to participate. They are bright, shining souls.

Play hard

My daughter’s Karate class started back up again last night. Now, she’s a tough girl, but I’m concerned that she may be a little too cute for Karate. I mean, she gives me a little wave and a thumbs up after every escape move. And she flashes a big toothy grin to her sparring partner. Maybe her aunt Jessica can work with her on her fighting face. She also had to overcome extreme cuteness in order to intimidate her basketball opponents. It’s a problem I’ve never had to deal with personally- the cuteness that is.

Ohio Judge duct tapes defendant's mouth shut

How could I not take advantage of this human interest story? There's something in this for everyone.

Read more here.

Where to go from here

First, thank you to two alert readers who informed me that “prithee” means “I pray thee” and is an interjection. As luck would have it, I told my students it was an interjection, so I won’t have to go back and confess my ignorance to them. At least not this time.

With the longer than expected class time, I have gobbled up four days worth of lesson plans in two days. The good news is, I’m finding that I can’t give too much time or practice to writing. It is a lost skill, it seems, so I am privileged to help them explore the horizon of composition. Today they wrote on the invigorating topic of “what I did this morning.” It can only get more exciting from here.

A poem for Tuesday

Oh what to do with an old ghetto Beamer

The window’s stuck open and the steering fluid leaks

I guess if I cared I’d at least keep it cleaner,

But I’m grateful at least for the soft leather seats.

Yes, I know the words don’t rhyme perfectly; I am an English teacher, after all (by the way, does anyone know what part of speech “prithee” is? I made up an answer for my students today, and though I sounded confident, I’m not at all sure).

God on the Plaza

Friday night, I watched perhaps the worst street performer I’ve ever seen. He dropped his juggling sticks, the flames on them kept going out, he fell off his unicycle, he took so long leading up to his tricks that people left, and he was rude to some audience members. I turned to my new friend (his name is Nature, and he doesn’t have a permanent home but travels all over, but that’s another story), grinned and said, “This is the worst street performer I’ve ever seen.” Nature said, “Everyone has to start somewhere. He’s not as good as the guys who have been performing for 20 years, but at least he’s out here trying, and he’ll get better as he works at it.” I learned another lesson about grace just then. Thanks, Nature.

So this is Friday

No school on Fridays for me, which leaves it wide open for writing lesson plans and catching up on my Examiner articles. I have been very slack in keeping up with articles, so hope to write one or two today on the current news. Suggestions for article topics, of course, are always welcome.

What is beautiful

Today at school I met with incoming students one on one to go over their scores from the placement tests and start talking about goals. It was a short consultation with most, but I took a little longer with one woman. I thought we were about done, and asked her if she had any further questions or concerns. She was quiet for a moment, then said, “I’m scared.” I set down my pen, relaxed, and asked her what scared her. She said she was afraid of going back to school again after so many years away. She was afraid that the other students would laugh at her. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep up. She says she wished she had done this before she had her 4 children so that she could have given them a better life. I admired her courage, not only to come back to school, but also to admit her fear, and I told her so. I told her that her children would admire the hard work she is doing, and that she would be an inspiration to them. I told her she was going to do very well, and that I would be there to help her and encourage her whenever she needed. The smile on her face was the most beautiful thing I saw today.

Who has your back?

Today I discovered a new hero of mine. As another teacher and I were introducing an assessment test, one of the students made a rude remark to the other teacher. She stopped and told him that that language was unacceptable. He raised his voice and spoke to her again in a very disrespectful manner. I missed it yesterday, but I guess he did the same thing then. So, she told him he could leave and reenroll in October. He didn’t budge, but neither did she. In fact she walked over to his table and told him again, with a smile on her face, to leave. Now, this woman was easily half his size and strength, but the determination, as well as the kindness, on her face stood its ground. He finally left, and I stared at her in abject admiration as she calmly resumed administering the test. Elise, you are one of my heroes. I would fear nothing if you had my back.

Are you hungry?

It's been a couple of weeks since I've written about a dangerous book. I got bogged down in one that was just way too long. But, I gave up on that one and have a new rule to not choose a dangerous book over 400 pages.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins caught me off guard. She deftly makes a huge political statement without ever sounding preachy or boring. The characters draw you in, and her writing is creative, intense, and profound.

So, what's her commentary? Read here.

Reading, writing, and listening

This week is training week for new instructors in our program at school. Because of the federal funding, there are tons of forms to keep up with for each student, and we have to be sure to dot every i and cross every t. I’m really looking forward to it, though. When teaching and writing, I’m in my element. It’s not so much imparting knowledge to others as opening their minds to new horizons, helping them see just a little bit further and a little bit broader. I love to see a new glimmer in someone’s eyes, and feel alive when the teaching goes both ways, when I delve into a conversation with someone where we are teaching each other. But for now, another day of training.

What today holds

Today is my first day as a community college instructor. I’ll be teaching Language Arts, which one friend commented is just a fancy name for English. I have some hopes that I can talk the math dean into giving me an Algebra class or two. All those years of Calculus in Engineering school have to be good for something.

I truly love teaching, so am looking forward to this opportunity. I’m considering what to wear today. My most inspirational English teacher in high school was famous for her hot pinks and reds- hot pink nails, red clothes, pink lipstick. I could never pull off garish like she did, but the hot colors contributed to the excitement in the classroom, so maybe I will at least wear my red shoes in her honor.

Hurricane Bill and why we insist on talking about the weather

Maybe we just miss tornado season. Midwesterners are too much fun in the spring, watching their TV's glued to their PDA's weather app, running outside to look at the sky as soon as they hear the siren (not what you're supposed to do, by the way).

With tornadoes behind us until next year, we tune now into Hurricane season. Why is we're so fascinated by the weather? It's not a new phenomenon. Humans have tracked the weather as long as there was weather to track. What does that say about us?

It says this.