I think that Wednesday is my favorite "teaching" day of the week. Its our designated "writing" day and even though that includes grammar (which is, quite easily, my least favorite part of English/Language Arts), it's the day when I get to do mostly writing with my students, which I enjoy. Sometimes, depending on the schedule we switch it up, like last Friday when I gave a writing assignment to my 7th-9th graders. They were to choose an ethical topic, such as abortion, marriage/divorce, suicide, war, etc. etc. and to write an in-class "essay" taking a stand either yes or no and supply Biblical evidence to defend their stand. Its really fun, for me, to watch their personal opinions taking shape and being able to defend their decision. So I'm thinking that we're going to do more of those... like coming up with Robin Hood (which we're in the middle of), I think I'll have them write a short little essay on whether or not the Robin Hood mystique (robbing the rich to give to the poor) makes him a thief... and if that's bad thing. Tee hee.
PTC count to date: 10
Group therapy -- instead of typical English class today, in the 8th grade, we had a group therapy session. They're drama-ridden, nit-picky, hormone-filled, teenagers. I'd forgotten what it was like to be 13, or 14. Thank God I'm over that age. I don't envy them... thats for sure. I tried to talk to them about holding grudges and life being too short and I told them that I prayed for them, and I do. It was fun, actually. There's so much more to an education than just the classes they take. I think that if I can talk to them on their level... get them to focus and pay attention that they'll learn more from that than forcing ancient and medieval lit down their throats. It's so strange... with a school the size of Veritas you literally know every kid's name (I mean, I think I have 40 students total +-) and there's not but like 11 girls TOTAL in the 5th-9th grades. Good odds, I suppose, for the boys in the school. There's already been about 5 "couples" who've come and gone, and some even switching partners. Drama. Bah.
It sure is an education though, for me. I don't really like to play the politics game, but I guess I'm better at keeping my mouth shut and defending myself and my actions when necessary. I definintly don't like having to censor my thoughts though. That bugs me, on a personal level and on a professional level. Censorship... of thoughts, of books, of the written word... thats so offensive to me on a writer's level. I struggle with that. Sometimes, I really want to throw things, because I'm so frustrated at something I can't do anything about. Its like what I've said before. I'm afraid of making the parents angry, because I do personalize and internalize everything. Making it personal. My boss says that I shouldn't do that. I don't know. I think that when my work becomes impersonal, thats when we have a problem and I should get out of teaching... because if its not personal, its not me and I'm then not doing what I was called to do.
And I know that I take my work home with me because I worry about these kids.. I stress over these kids and care about them. I still hate PTC's... even though I should be used to them by now. I think they're my least favorite part of the job. No... no think... I KNOW they're my least favorite part. I'd rather be in the classroom, talking to my students about life. They know so much and yet... at the same time... so little. At least they think they know alot. Its so funny... their respective personalities.
I probably share too much of myself with them but thats how I relate to them and they to me.
I think its funny though, people who automatically assume that thoughts or comments are directed at them. I always thought that meant you felt guilty.
Oh well. Different musings for a different day, I suppose.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
.. I got nothing..
Sometimes, the need... urge to write is so strong that I can't do anything but, and yet, I never feel satisfied with my writing. I rarely consider my short stories "finished"... but more like continual works in progress. It literally makes my heart ache because I wish that I could write with depth and grace and understanding and somehow evoke every feeling that I'm feeling into my characters but I fail, miserably at it. I have so much to say and yet... can't.
It's like with teaching. There's this great passion in me to teach. I know it. Its been there ever since I can remember wanting to be a teacher -- no, being CALLED to be a teacher. It manifests itself through literature, the lessons of the great writers of the past merge with the writers of the present and I'm, floundering, somewhere in the middle.
How can I make them understand? And by them, its not the students that I want to listen to me... its the parents of the students I teach. I... it makes me cry, great buckets of tears because I can't do my job effectively and passionately for risk of ticking people off. Making parents angry with me. Is that something I'll struggle with forever and always? God, help me if it is.
Literature isn't weighed and measured and studied and chewed, the way some folks chew a piece of meat. I think it should be breathed in... invested... drawn in. And teaching literature - if only I could teach what I truly WANTED to teach... My Sisters Keeper would be first. There is so much emotion, so much love, hope, despair that just the words evoke thoughts, ideas, and develop the overall person.
So why can't I teach how and what I want to teach? Is it because I'm "young" and a first year? Is that why I am being persecuted for what I stand for? My God, I'm only trying to help... teach. Instead I'm getting hit and cornered and blasted from every side. If its not one thing, its another. If its not the vocabulary, its the essay assignment or the fact that I punished your precious baby boy by excusing him from my classroom for uncalled for rudeness. I don't get it. Just because the school that I teach at is founded on classical Christian principles, that somehow means that I have to teach only Christian literature? I'm sorry, but thats crap. How can my students be expected to stand for God when they can't even tell me where in the Bible it says that adultery is wrong, or gluttony is a sin. How can they be warriors for Christ when they don't know how to witness and to be a warrior?
I get that you want to "protect" your child -- but, as his/her earthly father, I know that its your responsibility to do that. And I am okay with that. But at the end of the day, isn't it God who protects your child from harm? Isn't HE the one who knows the plan, has written the plan, knows the words that you'll say before you even think them? Isn't it God who holds His children in the palm of His hand and protects ALL of them? Yes, He has given you earthly children, which are gifts no matter what form the come in, but isn't He the all-knowing protector of all his children? Do you honestly think that I would be here, in this school, if it weren't preordained by God's holy plan? Maybe you should consider that I might be young, and I might be a first year teacher but this is my God-given gift. And if I don't do as He has told me to do, then am I not doing what Gods plan is for me and thumbing my nose at Him? I think so. Which is why I can't sit idly by and allow the parents of my students to run all over me because they pay for the education their child recieves. I have to grow a backbone and stand up for my own beliefs.
"But its too hard." Life's hard. If it weren't hard, everybody would do it. And, I'll add this. I've got students who other teachers in their respective public schools didn't give a rip about, because they either had too many students or didn't have time to care or for whatever reason... they got lost in the shuffle. Their grades dropped. Their confidence dropped. They started to believe they were stupid. People, either by words or actions or by the grades they recieved, told them that they were stupid, which personally is a tragedy. Those same students that failed public school have B's or A's in my class. MY CLASS WHICH YOU SAY IS TOO HARD. How is that possible? Its not because they were given their grades, I'll guarantee that. You work for what you earn in my class. Students who came from the area public schools are doing better in my class than they did in public school... why is that? Is it because they have a teacher who cares? Or maybe its because the students who want to do better, to be better, are willing to work at it. They come after school, and during study hall and email me at all hours of the afternoon because of what -- because I care, or because they do? I don't know, but apparently my class is too hard. I require too much.
I just hope that when those children who say its too hard don't wake up 20 years from now at their 9 to 5 job at AFLAC and say to their boss... "its too hard. I don't want to work that hard to do my job, so would you mind changing the assignment so its not too difficult?" I just don't get it. Oh sure, and get to college, or even high school and tell your teacher/professor "um, this paper assignment is too long. Would you mind shortening it? Okay thanks." Ha. Yeah right. Its just all absurd to me.
I will never understand the apathetic youth of America -- God help us -- those same youth that will be running this country in 20 years, producing children, raising families. And I don't understand how parents can produce children and coddle them to the point where they are 12 and 13 years old and don't know how to do anything productive. How do you expect them to survive in this world without you? They won't -- so you're raising children who will stay perpetually mama's boys and daddy's girls (nothing wrong with that) but shouldn't there be a point where the madness stops? What if one of them is called to be a missionary in South Africa, but you won't allow them to go because 1) they'll be away from you and 2) it might be too hard. Thumbing your nose at God's plan for your child's life is not something I'd personally want to be accused of doing. How can you expect your child to live his own life? Don't the strings have to be cut at some point? Stop doing FOR them, and let them learn on their own. They are good children, responsible children (for the most part) who need to know how to type a paper on their own, without mama's help, or how to construct sentences without starting with "and" or "well." These are valuable skills.
Unfortunately, we live in a society where its less about character and more about "what can you do for me" - a kind of selfish, egocentric attitude that the world and sun revolves around you and your problems.
Let me just say also as a side note, that just because I show emotion does NOT mean that my emotion is about YOU. I do have a life outside of school and there are things that happen that make me cry, like one of my best friends being deployed to Afghanistan (God be with all of our men and women in uniform), or my own financial problems or just whatever. Its not always about you.
But its this wholly selfish attitude among Christians and non-Christians that "its all about me" which really isn't very Christian either. Neither is sowing seeds of doubt and mistrust and dislike. Aren't we supposed to lift each other up, to sharpen each other and help our brothers and sisters in Christ, rather than tearing them down, belittling them or questioning God's plan that brought those people colliding together?
I would rather have a teacher like the fictional John Keating, or like Julia Roberts character in Mona Lisa Smile than a teacher who had no passion, no fire, no life for what she chose to teach. But I can see why teachers like that can get burnt out on the hypocracy of it all, on the sheer exhaustion of always having to explain yourself, of why you've required certain things to be done a certain way. Of being questioned and contained in a neat little box. I won't fit inside your box. I can't. Not only would it destroy my foundation for what I believe, and have me question my place here in this world, but it would destroy my soul and that... that is something that I won't allow you to take away from me.
It's like with teaching. There's this great passion in me to teach. I know it. Its been there ever since I can remember wanting to be a teacher -- no, being CALLED to be a teacher. It manifests itself through literature, the lessons of the great writers of the past merge with the writers of the present and I'm, floundering, somewhere in the middle.
How can I make them understand? And by them, its not the students that I want to listen to me... its the parents of the students I teach. I... it makes me cry, great buckets of tears because I can't do my job effectively and passionately for risk of ticking people off. Making parents angry with me. Is that something I'll struggle with forever and always? God, help me if it is.
Literature isn't weighed and measured and studied and chewed, the way some folks chew a piece of meat. I think it should be breathed in... invested... drawn in. And teaching literature - if only I could teach what I truly WANTED to teach... My Sisters Keeper would be first. There is so much emotion, so much love, hope, despair that just the words evoke thoughts, ideas, and develop the overall person.
So why can't I teach how and what I want to teach? Is it because I'm "young" and a first year? Is that why I am being persecuted for what I stand for? My God, I'm only trying to help... teach. Instead I'm getting hit and cornered and blasted from every side. If its not one thing, its another. If its not the vocabulary, its the essay assignment or the fact that I punished your precious baby boy by excusing him from my classroom for uncalled for rudeness. I don't get it. Just because the school that I teach at is founded on classical Christian principles, that somehow means that I have to teach only Christian literature? I'm sorry, but thats crap. How can my students be expected to stand for God when they can't even tell me where in the Bible it says that adultery is wrong, or gluttony is a sin. How can they be warriors for Christ when they don't know how to witness and to be a warrior?
I get that you want to "protect" your child -- but, as his/her earthly father, I know that its your responsibility to do that. And I am okay with that. But at the end of the day, isn't it God who protects your child from harm? Isn't HE the one who knows the plan, has written the plan, knows the words that you'll say before you even think them? Isn't it God who holds His children in the palm of His hand and protects ALL of them? Yes, He has given you earthly children, which are gifts no matter what form the come in, but isn't He the all-knowing protector of all his children? Do you honestly think that I would be here, in this school, if it weren't preordained by God's holy plan? Maybe you should consider that I might be young, and I might be a first year teacher but this is my God-given gift. And if I don't do as He has told me to do, then am I not doing what Gods plan is for me and thumbing my nose at Him? I think so. Which is why I can't sit idly by and allow the parents of my students to run all over me because they pay for the education their child recieves. I have to grow a backbone and stand up for my own beliefs.
"But its too hard." Life's hard. If it weren't hard, everybody would do it. And, I'll add this. I've got students who other teachers in their respective public schools didn't give a rip about, because they either had too many students or didn't have time to care or for whatever reason... they got lost in the shuffle. Their grades dropped. Their confidence dropped. They started to believe they were stupid. People, either by words or actions or by the grades they recieved, told them that they were stupid, which personally is a tragedy. Those same students that failed public school have B's or A's in my class. MY CLASS WHICH YOU SAY IS TOO HARD. How is that possible? Its not because they were given their grades, I'll guarantee that. You work for what you earn in my class. Students who came from the area public schools are doing better in my class than they did in public school... why is that? Is it because they have a teacher who cares? Or maybe its because the students who want to do better, to be better, are willing to work at it. They come after school, and during study hall and email me at all hours of the afternoon because of what -- because I care, or because they do? I don't know, but apparently my class is too hard. I require too much.
I just hope that when those children who say its too hard don't wake up 20 years from now at their 9 to 5 job at AFLAC and say to their boss... "its too hard. I don't want to work that hard to do my job, so would you mind changing the assignment so its not too difficult?" I just don't get it. Oh sure, and get to college, or even high school and tell your teacher/professor "um, this paper assignment is too long. Would you mind shortening it? Okay thanks." Ha. Yeah right. Its just all absurd to me.
I will never understand the apathetic youth of America -- God help us -- those same youth that will be running this country in 20 years, producing children, raising families. And I don't understand how parents can produce children and coddle them to the point where they are 12 and 13 years old and don't know how to do anything productive. How do you expect them to survive in this world without you? They won't -- so you're raising children who will stay perpetually mama's boys and daddy's girls (nothing wrong with that) but shouldn't there be a point where the madness stops? What if one of them is called to be a missionary in South Africa, but you won't allow them to go because 1) they'll be away from you and 2) it might be too hard. Thumbing your nose at God's plan for your child's life is not something I'd personally want to be accused of doing. How can you expect your child to live his own life? Don't the strings have to be cut at some point? Stop doing FOR them, and let them learn on their own. They are good children, responsible children (for the most part) who need to know how to type a paper on their own, without mama's help, or how to construct sentences without starting with "and" or "well." These are valuable skills.
Unfortunately, we live in a society where its less about character and more about "what can you do for me" - a kind of selfish, egocentric attitude that the world and sun revolves around you and your problems.
Let me just say also as a side note, that just because I show emotion does NOT mean that my emotion is about YOU. I do have a life outside of school and there are things that happen that make me cry, like one of my best friends being deployed to Afghanistan (God be with all of our men and women in uniform), or my own financial problems or just whatever. Its not always about you.
But its this wholly selfish attitude among Christians and non-Christians that "its all about me" which really isn't very Christian either. Neither is sowing seeds of doubt and mistrust and dislike. Aren't we supposed to lift each other up, to sharpen each other and help our brothers and sisters in Christ, rather than tearing them down, belittling them or questioning God's plan that brought those people colliding together?
I would rather have a teacher like the fictional John Keating, or like Julia Roberts character in Mona Lisa Smile than a teacher who had no passion, no fire, no life for what she chose to teach. But I can see why teachers like that can get burnt out on the hypocracy of it all, on the sheer exhaustion of always having to explain yourself, of why you've required certain things to be done a certain way. Of being questioned and contained in a neat little box. I won't fit inside your box. I can't. Not only would it destroy my foundation for what I believe, and have me question my place here in this world, but it would destroy my soul and that... that is something that I won't allow you to take away from me.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The Secret Life of the American Teenager
I started watching this tv show, "The Secret Life of the American Teenager," I think in the desperate hope that it'd give me some kind of insight into my students, the crazy, drama-infested ones at least. I don't think its working. It just reinforced, kind of, that my kids are crazy and this is the tv show that they're watching.
The dialogue, right now, really, is "you're so desperate to get a boyfriend. No you're desperate! No you look like a washed up teenage porn star...." Oh. My. God. Seriously.
And then I got hooked... and I've sat here, most of this Tuesday watching the marathon in preparation of the finale. And, while I realize that the likihood of a 15 year old boy finding his "soulmate" at age 15 is somewhat skewed by Hollywood... it's really sweet in a way. I don't like how they portray Christians (Grace) on the show. They make us out to be completely guilless and naive.
The dialogue, right now, really, is "you're so desperate to get a boyfriend. No you're desperate! No you look like a washed up teenage porn star...." Oh. My. God. Seriously.
And then I got hooked... and I've sat here, most of this Tuesday watching the marathon in preparation of the finale. And, while I realize that the likihood of a 15 year old boy finding his "soulmate" at age 15 is somewhat skewed by Hollywood... it's really sweet in a way. I don't like how they portray Christians (Grace) on the show. They make us out to be completely guilless and naive.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
My Wishes...
I wish that I could be courageous and brave, like the characters in my stories.I wish that I didn't care so much about people I love being angry and upset with me, even to the point of apologizing and internalizing all of that fear at being abandoned by the people I love most.
I wish that I didn't expect people to walk out of my life as easily as they walked in and I wish that I didn't allow myself to feel hurt when it happens.
I wish that I was a better writer, able to express the thoughts and opinons of my characters onto paper and woven intricately into storylines.
I wish that I had learned at an early age to speak my mind instead of being afraid all of the time.
I wish that I had listened instead of ignored, thought instead of followed and valued the love of good people who I took for granted.
I wish that I were more engaging, social, active; that I didn't constantly internalize and analyze everything in my life.
I wish that I knew how to stand up for me, to say enough is enough, and to throw caution to the wind; to just be. I wish that I could see more of the world, to be on staff with ACMNP again, to look for joy in everything.
I wish that I was able to duel with words instead of quietly accepting whatever is said to me with grace and a quiet way.
I wish that I knew how to knit. I wish that I could say all that I really wanted to. I wish that I didn't automatically shrink into the back of a crowded room. I wish that I never grow tired of not being the center of attention.
I wish that people would forgive me for my mistakes; that I could accept my own failure; that I allowed people in easier. I wish that I never stop believing in unconditional love. I wish that my friends find happiness in all that they do.
I wish that it wasn't so easy to settle for what might be availible even when you know it isn't right. I wish that I wasn't easily duped; that I wasn't as naive, that I wasn't treated like a child.
I wish that it didn't bother me.
(work in progress ~B)
Monday, May 19, 2008
What a difference a year makes...
last year, on this date, I had my heart broken. Ripped into a million pieces and scattered about the ocean. What a difference a year makes.
I am so non-confrontational that I'll do anything to avoid it. I'll accept total blame where it should be partial; ignore in the hopes it'll go away; pray that my temper doesn't blow when it finally reaches that breaking point.
you know, its so ironic how last Thursday night the Greys Anatgomy episode was centralized around a woman with a brain tumor. Her family thought that she had made up this man; that she was crazy because she had fallen in love with someone she'd never met. Turns out, she wasn't. And the man showed up. She didn't give up hope. What a difference a year makes.
Lots on my mind tonight. Lots of frustration and aggravation.
I'm leaving tomorrow on a jet plane....
peace.
I am so non-confrontational that I'll do anything to avoid it. I'll accept total blame where it should be partial; ignore in the hopes it'll go away; pray that my temper doesn't blow when it finally reaches that breaking point.
you know, its so ironic how last Thursday night the Greys Anatgomy episode was centralized around a woman with a brain tumor. Her family thought that she had made up this man; that she was crazy because she had fallen in love with someone she'd never met. Turns out, she wasn't. And the man showed up. She didn't give up hope. What a difference a year makes.
Lots on my mind tonight. Lots of frustration and aggravation.
I'm leaving tomorrow on a jet plane....
peace.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Graduation, part deux...
It was exactly 4 years ago, May 14, 2004, when I graduated with my bachelors degree from Auburn University. I remember being excited, anticipating walking across that stage and recieving my diploma from the university where I had been a student for the previous four years, accumulating years of hard work and personal challenge. My years at Auburn were puncuated with the beginning some of the strongest friendships I still have, the ending of others, strengthing of ones that I already had... of finding out who I was, cultivating that person and being willing to accept that change was a necessary part of life. I loved, absolutely LOVED my time at Auburn and it was a bittersweet day on that Saturday morning when I accepted my Bachelor of Arts diploma. The culmination of years of hard work and dedication leading up to one moment of finality. A day when my friends were there, my best friends, my family... it was a perfect day.
Fast forward 4 years....
Graduation, May 10th, 2008. Columbus State University. I'm not so much excited, or filled with anticipation. More apprehensive. First, I'm not walking... a decision I haven't really decided if I'm okay with. I originally had made the decision because I didn't want to have to choose going to the state tennis championship to cheer on my siblings or going to graduation. I'm okay with that decision, but I wonder if I'll regret it two, three years from now. I guess we'll see. And I'm apprehensive because there has been such a problem with my credit hours this last semester. I'm really just excited to move on and start school again in August of '09.
Fast forward 4 years....
Graduation, May 10th, 2008. Columbus State University. I'm not so much excited, or filled with anticipation. More apprehensive. First, I'm not walking... a decision I haven't really decided if I'm okay with. I originally had made the decision because I didn't want to have to choose going to the state tennis championship to cheer on my siblings or going to graduation. I'm okay with that decision, but I wonder if I'll regret it two, three years from now. I guess we'll see. And I'm apprehensive because there has been such a problem with my credit hours this last semester. I'm really just excited to move on and start school again in August of '09.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Hey there....
It's been about a month or so since I last posted something and I thought and update was in order... so, here goes:
1) I finished student teaching last Friday and what a relief it was. I will miss my students at Shaw, because they taught me some very valuable lessons, but I'm so glad to have it behind me.
2) I completed all of the requirements for graduation for my Masters in Education (haleliuah), which is May 10th. I'm not walking at the ceremony though, because I didn't want to make my family choose which to attend; my graduation or the state championship tennis match that my brothers and sisters will be playing in.
3) I gave myself a new puppy for graduation; he's a buff colored cocker spaniel and is 11 weeks old. His name is Dodger, after the Artful Dodger from Oliver Twist. He's so cute, but if he chews through one more of my Internet wires I might have to beat the stew out of him. He gets along very well with Hunter, my 3 year old cocker and Murphy my 1 year old cat. In fact, Murphy and him probably get along better than he does with Hunter. Who'd have thought?
4) I have a teaching job for next fall at Veritas Academy in Phenix City. It's a small, private Christian School. I like the environment and most of the students, and my coworkers. I think that there is alot that I can do there and learn and gain some really great experience from. I'll be teaching 6th-9th grade English Language Arts and in charge of the Yearbook staff. Woo Hoo!!
5) I'm going back to the Grand Canyon this summer with my Dad. We're flying into Las Vegas and then driving to the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde and Arches National Parks. In June, I'm going to Boston with my Mom and my cousin Wendy and my aunt Susan. I'm so excited!!
I think that's about all... thanks for reading!
~Brooke
1) I finished student teaching last Friday and what a relief it was. I will miss my students at Shaw, because they taught me some very valuable lessons, but I'm so glad to have it behind me.
2) I completed all of the requirements for graduation for my Masters in Education (haleliuah), which is May 10th. I'm not walking at the ceremony though, because I didn't want to make my family choose which to attend; my graduation or the state championship tennis match that my brothers and sisters will be playing in.
3) I gave myself a new puppy for graduation; he's a buff colored cocker spaniel and is 11 weeks old. His name is Dodger, after the Artful Dodger from Oliver Twist. He's so cute, but if he chews through one more of my Internet wires I might have to beat the stew out of him. He gets along very well with Hunter, my 3 year old cocker and Murphy my 1 year old cat. In fact, Murphy and him probably get along better than he does with Hunter. Who'd have thought?
4) I have a teaching job for next fall at Veritas Academy in Phenix City. It's a small, private Christian School. I like the environment and most of the students, and my coworkers. I think that there is alot that I can do there and learn and gain some really great experience from. I'll be teaching 6th-9th grade English Language Arts and in charge of the Yearbook staff. Woo Hoo!!
5) I'm going back to the Grand Canyon this summer with my Dad. We're flying into Las Vegas and then driving to the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde and Arches National Parks. In June, I'm going to Boston with my Mom and my cousin Wendy and my aunt Susan. I'm so excited!!
I think that's about all... thanks for reading!
~Brooke
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
The Grand Canyon
I spent a summer living in Arizona, worshiping on the edge of the magnificent Grand Canyon, literally at the feet of one of God’s most amazing and miraculous creations. I’ve been thinking about that summer, as it was this time, almost 3 years ago that I found myself preparing to be led on this truly amazing and fantastic journey. That was the most life-altering, mind-boggling, phenomenal summer of my life. I was thinking about that summer, and how amazing it was and what wonderful people I met and how grateful I am that God put me in that place at that time. I was looking through the pictures that I have of my summer there, and my return to the Canyon about eighteen months later and tears came to my eyes at the beauty of what we experienced. It was almost surreal. The Canyon has a splendor that is truly unique to the layers of rock and sediment: its something that cannot be duplicated and photographs do no justice to what the deep valley and catechisms actually look like. The Canyon road has a smell all its own; the smell of clean and unfiltered air, of dirt mixed with rock and stone, of God breathing His life into the wildlife and plant life that are indigenous to the area. Driving along the road, through Valle and into Tusayeon, through the wide gates that signify the entrance into the National Park, there is a sense of heightened anticipation, yes, but there is a feeling of coming home. The Canyon will always be “home” in a way that Phenix City can never be. The Canyon is Desert View, sunsets, Emilie and Sarah and Mark. The Canyon is purity and laughter (at ourselves, at the tourists, at the canyon itself). The Canyon… most of all the Canyon is ACMNP, the epitome of what my purpose was in this life for this specific and over-all-too-fast moment in time. My glorious friends, the family that I needed to survive while away from my “real” family; the co-workers who took care of two girls from the East and watched out for us; standing strong in the face of death and being in the right place at the right time. The Canyon, in its magnificent glory, brings tears to my eyes when I look upon the pictures, when I remember what that summer brought to my life, how much my life was altered by this experience. It is simply amazing in its grandeur and I am so blessed to have been able to live here on the edge of the world.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
When is it enough? When is a doormat, tired of being a doormat?
I first posted this on Myspace over a year ago and I'm left wondering about why I still am a doormat. It's referred to by many things... but a doormat is the least flattering. I allow people to walk all over my back, sometimes throwing out the welcome mat and giving them unwritten permission. Sometimes its people I love; my family & friends. Sometimes its my students and their parents. I know that it is something that I will eventually have to figure out how to put a stop to, but I wonder, am I really trying to do so? The truth is, no, I'm not. It's not something that I'm actively trying to change. Why is that? Do I not have respect enough for myself to allow it to continue to occur? Or am I okay with allowing it to reach its boiling point before overflowing? The truth is, I don't know. I haven't the slightest idea why I let it continue or why I don't get more upset when it does occur. Maybe its the person doing the stamping, or maybe its the last-straw-that-broke-the-camels-back theory. Maybe with some people it just reaches a final point and I'm finally sick of it. I'm not sure exactly. I'm still in that situation. I allow people to be mean to me, by not taking up for myself. And truthfully, I'm not sure that I will ever change that fact about me. I can't change who I am and that quality seems to be a part of my character. And now I have to ask myself... would I? Given the opportunity to change it, would I? God obviously made me that way for a reason... it's part of the person I am, so, would I change it? So anyway, in almost its original format, my original blog entry from more than a year ago.
I have been a doormat my entire life. From the very beginning, to now, to right now. I can remember people – examples – instances when I was trampled on because I laid out the welcome mat and didn't ever take up for myself. A doormat allows people to walk all over her. She invites it, from the welcome mat at the front door, to the openness and giving of herself. I know that this is a fault of mine, that I allow people to walk all over me, take advantage of a kindness and willingness to help and that I feel guilty when I don't, or when I say "no," when I am yelled at by people with no right to yell. Why does it continue? Why do I allow it to occur? I've stopped it before – but only by cutting people completely out of my life. I have no backbone, no "balls," no gumption, no courage to stand up when I've been trampled on.
I am not a child in need of someone to take care of me, as if at any moment the big, bad wolf in the forest is going to come gobble me up at the first opportunity. Just because I was sheltered doesn't make me naïve and dumb, like a small child in need of a pity pat. I know I perpetuate the cycle by allowing it to continue by not standing up for myself. But why do I allow it to continue?
What nobody realizes is that the anger simmers on a low boil until one day the top will blow off and all of this pent up frustration and anger will come rolling off like a volcano erupted. You only think I'm calm and duck-like, slow to truly anger but quick to annoy – with everyone but you. You have to know I'm a ticking time bomb – or do you truly think that I like serving and waiting and smiling when you look down on the decisions I've made, making me wonder how long I've been the butt of your jokes. Do you think it makes me happy to feel like an afterthought?
I can't be anything different than who I am. I didn't make the choices that I have made because in the light of certain people's eyes, choosing to be who I am is a fault and these people feel that its necessary to try and force alcohol down my throat, either by bribing, spiking or just incessantly annoying me in the hopes that I will wear myself down and just agree to make them shut up. Why is it so blessedly important to make the sober girl drink? Is it fun for you? A little game, a personal victory perhaps? Why is it necessary to point out my differences as if it's a game to you, every time alcohol is involved? "Brooke, want a beer?" "No thanks" I respond… "you sure?" What, you think that the past twenty-five years of not drinking and then all of a sudden, just because you ask a second or third time, well maybe I'm not so sure this time? You should respect my decision. Don't they get it? I choose to not drink. I choose to be that way - and I somehow managed to stay that way for 24 3/4 years (minus the 3 month "rebellion" in college), through high school, through Auburn and the daily drunken debauchery at the Pi Kapp house, through CSU and work and the "post-college revelry." Don't you understand? This is MY choice. MY decision. It's not because I want to be different than you -- I'm different from you in many ways, because I like being so, but this is not one of them. It's because I just don't want to drink alcohol. I don't see the point in it. I don't like the taste of beer: I think it tastes like piss, or what I would think piss would taste like. I don't like how it makes the people around me act. I don't like that alcoholism runs in my family, on both sides and I refuse to be another statistic. And, it's just not something that I want to spend my precious dollars and cents on.
And I may be the only 25-year-old virgin on the planet, but that's my choice too. I don't sleep with every man in the universe and that doesn't make me strange or weird, or stupid and naive. I think it makes me smart and careful. Since when did those two things become such a blessed tragedy? But that's my decision to make as well and you don't get to look down on me, or consider me any less knowledgeable than you are because of it. I don't worry about getting pregnant, or contracting an STD. I don't need that kind of stress in my life. I have enough without adding to it.
I'm tired of feeling guilty just because you think I'm not "there for you." You made your choices. Deal with the consequences of your actions. I'm tired of saying "yes" when I should say "no."
Don't confuse being shy and withdrawn to being naive. Just because I'm not loud or confronting or aggressive, doesn't make me naive. It makes me quiet and observing. Do you really think that I'm naive? I am not a tiny bear cub or a bird that's afraid to leave the nest, in desperate need of protection from the "scary people," by anyone. I choose to be protected by a select few. I am a grown woman. I may have been educated in a small, private school in Georgia, but I attended a very large public university and I think I did pretty damn well. I was a little sister for a fraternity for 3 1/2 years -- do you think that they just curbed their crudeness, watched their language and didn't try anything with me for those 3 1/2 years? I have fended off unwanted advances, laughed along with their crudeness and smiled when they'd apologize for dropping the F-bomb. They didn't see me as being naive and stupid. Why do you? Because you think you "know" me better than they did? Because you've been in my life longer? Or because you think that just because I retreat or fade into the wood grain background, that I must require protection – because I'm not "worldly" that means that I must be naïve and stupid.
I made it out of Auburn without being attacked or raped or assaulted, without ever falling down drunk, unable to remember where and how I got home the night before. Maybe that's why you think I'm naïve and dumb – because I haven't "tried" things or "experienced" things. And if that's your mentality, then you're welcome to it. I'm satisfied with my life. I have no problem with the person I am and the decision's I've made. Maybe one day I'll stand up for myself... I'll grow a proverbial pair and just do it, but somehow, I doubt it.
I have been a doormat my entire life. From the very beginning, to now, to right now. I can remember people – examples – instances when I was trampled on because I laid out the welcome mat and didn't ever take up for myself. A doormat allows people to walk all over her. She invites it, from the welcome mat at the front door, to the openness and giving of herself. I know that this is a fault of mine, that I allow people to walk all over me, take advantage of a kindness and willingness to help and that I feel guilty when I don't, or when I say "no," when I am yelled at by people with no right to yell. Why does it continue? Why do I allow it to occur? I've stopped it before – but only by cutting people completely out of my life. I have no backbone, no "balls," no gumption, no courage to stand up when I've been trampled on.
I am not a child in need of someone to take care of me, as if at any moment the big, bad wolf in the forest is going to come gobble me up at the first opportunity. Just because I was sheltered doesn't make me naïve and dumb, like a small child in need of a pity pat. I know I perpetuate the cycle by allowing it to continue by not standing up for myself. But why do I allow it to continue?
What nobody realizes is that the anger simmers on a low boil until one day the top will blow off and all of this pent up frustration and anger will come rolling off like a volcano erupted. You only think I'm calm and duck-like, slow to truly anger but quick to annoy – with everyone but you. You have to know I'm a ticking time bomb – or do you truly think that I like serving and waiting and smiling when you look down on the decisions I've made, making me wonder how long I've been the butt of your jokes. Do you think it makes me happy to feel like an afterthought?
I can't be anything different than who I am. I didn't make the choices that I have made because in the light of certain people's eyes, choosing to be who I am is a fault and these people feel that its necessary to try and force alcohol down my throat, either by bribing, spiking or just incessantly annoying me in the hopes that I will wear myself down and just agree to make them shut up. Why is it so blessedly important to make the sober girl drink? Is it fun for you? A little game, a personal victory perhaps? Why is it necessary to point out my differences as if it's a game to you, every time alcohol is involved? "Brooke, want a beer?" "No thanks" I respond… "you sure?" What, you think that the past twenty-five years of not drinking and then all of a sudden, just because you ask a second or third time, well maybe I'm not so sure this time? You should respect my decision. Don't they get it? I choose to not drink. I choose to be that way - and I somehow managed to stay that way for 24 3/4 years (minus the 3 month "rebellion" in college), through high school, through Auburn and the daily drunken debauchery at the Pi Kapp house, through CSU and work and the "post-college revelry." Don't you understand? This is MY choice. MY decision. It's not because I want to be different than you -- I'm different from you in many ways, because I like being so, but this is not one of them. It's because I just don't want to drink alcohol. I don't see the point in it. I don't like the taste of beer: I think it tastes like piss, or what I would think piss would taste like. I don't like how it makes the people around me act. I don't like that alcoholism runs in my family, on both sides and I refuse to be another statistic. And, it's just not something that I want to spend my precious dollars and cents on.
And I may be the only 25-year-old virgin on the planet, but that's my choice too. I don't sleep with every man in the universe and that doesn't make me strange or weird, or stupid and naive. I think it makes me smart and careful. Since when did those two things become such a blessed tragedy? But that's my decision to make as well and you don't get to look down on me, or consider me any less knowledgeable than you are because of it. I don't worry about getting pregnant, or contracting an STD. I don't need that kind of stress in my life. I have enough without adding to it.
I'm tired of feeling guilty just because you think I'm not "there for you." You made your choices. Deal with the consequences of your actions. I'm tired of saying "yes" when I should say "no."
Don't confuse being shy and withdrawn to being naive. Just because I'm not loud or confronting or aggressive, doesn't make me naive. It makes me quiet and observing. Do you really think that I'm naive? I am not a tiny bear cub or a bird that's afraid to leave the nest, in desperate need of protection from the "scary people," by anyone. I choose to be protected by a select few. I am a grown woman. I may have been educated in a small, private school in Georgia, but I attended a very large public university and I think I did pretty damn well. I was a little sister for a fraternity for 3 1/2 years -- do you think that they just curbed their crudeness, watched their language and didn't try anything with me for those 3 1/2 years? I have fended off unwanted advances, laughed along with their crudeness and smiled when they'd apologize for dropping the F-bomb. They didn't see me as being naive and stupid. Why do you? Because you think you "know" me better than they did? Because you've been in my life longer? Or because you think that just because I retreat or fade into the wood grain background, that I must require protection – because I'm not "worldly" that means that I must be naïve and stupid.
I made it out of Auburn without being attacked or raped or assaulted, without ever falling down drunk, unable to remember where and how I got home the night before. Maybe that's why you think I'm naïve and dumb – because I haven't "tried" things or "experienced" things. And if that's your mentality, then you're welcome to it. I'm satisfied with my life. I have no problem with the person I am and the decision's I've made. Maybe one day I'll stand up for myself... I'll grow a proverbial pair and just do it, but somehow, I doubt it.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
1 month, 3 weeks and 3 days...
thats counting weekends and spring break. Actually, in terms of actual school days, its more like 35. Thats insanity. 35 days and I will have completed student teaching, hopefully passing student teaching and graduating two weeks after that. Wow.
Its been going really well. Good things have kind of halted and are a big stagnate, but that's okay. I have full confidence that they will work themselves out. At least I hope.
Other than that, everything is just groovy.
Its been going really well. Good things have kind of halted and are a big stagnate, but that's okay. I have full confidence that they will work themselves out. At least I hope.
Other than that, everything is just groovy.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
5 weeks down...
Almost at the end of my 5th week of student teaching... halfway! YAY! I'm at Shaw High school, English 2 & 3. I have mostly sophomores and juniors... a few seniors too. It's been great so far! I'm really enjoying it but I miss my kids at Veritas so much. Hank has offered me a job teaching next fall so that's where I'll wind up, which I'm also excited about.
Couple of educational updates:
Last day of Student Teaching: April 25th
Graduation: May 10th (HALEFREAKINGLULIAH!)
I'm going to finish with my masters degree in May and I'm so freaking excited I can't wait. It's been a long 4 years since I graduated from the "loveliest village on the plains"... oh how I miss Auburn. CSU has been an experience and I'm grateful for the opportunity. Future plans include: taking a year off from school to get acclimated to teaching full time, then, in the Fall of 2009 hopefully applying and being accepted into a Masters of English program where I can finish in 2 years, completeing my MA program, and the moving into either my specialist or an advanced degree in Education Administration. Funny thing about those plans, they always seem to get changed. I've found recently that I have an interest in the administration side of education and I can't wait to pursue that at another university. We'll see where it all takes me.
Things have really begun to pick up and take off for me lately and I'm so excited about the changes. I know that God has been with me these past few months and I know that He is guiding my life to the way that He has planned.
see you later.
~B
Couple of educational updates:
Last day of Student Teaching: April 25th
Graduation: May 10th (HALEFREAKINGLULIAH!)
I'm going to finish with my masters degree in May and I'm so freaking excited I can't wait. It's been a long 4 years since I graduated from the "loveliest village on the plains"... oh how I miss Auburn. CSU has been an experience and I'm grateful for the opportunity. Future plans include: taking a year off from school to get acclimated to teaching full time, then, in the Fall of 2009 hopefully applying and being accepted into a Masters of English program where I can finish in 2 years, completeing my MA program, and the moving into either my specialist or an advanced degree in Education Administration. Funny thing about those plans, they always seem to get changed. I've found recently that I have an interest in the administration side of education and I can't wait to pursue that at another university. We'll see where it all takes me.
Things have really begun to pick up and take off for me lately and I'm so excited about the changes. I know that God has been with me these past few months and I know that He is guiding my life to the way that He has planned.
see you later.
~B
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