Graduation is a funny thing.
It's an arbitrary day, where we're handed a piece of paper that somehow represents 4+ years of work at some level. We wear a gown and funny hats, and everyone cheers that we made it. We managed to get through the requirements that someone said we should.
And then it's celebrated wildly.
For me, graduation has always felt funny. I'm sure that part of the issue in high school was that, as a band member, I had attended three other graduations, and this felt just like another one, really. It was long, it was boring, and I walked across a stage and shook someone's hand and suddenly I was supposed to feel different.
Well, I didn't. And I didn't again for my college graduation. I think graduating is an accomplishment, but I guess it's hard for me in both cases to feel like I was challenged. In high school and in college, a few classes were difficult, but not most. College can be difficult, but most of my education classes just plain weren't. It was expected I would do fine in both high school and college, and that I would graduate. And I did.
High school graduation was a bit more exciting. I was never a kid who wanted desperately to escape my hometown, but college was still an enticing prospect in my mind. College graduation was somewhat different in that I wasn't a big enough part of any group on campus to get a send-off of any kind (unlike high school, where there were a few special graduate events), and I didn't have any plans lined up for the future. High school graduation was a step towards something new and different, and college is, too- but it's a lot scarier.
I'm in no hurry to grow up and be an adult. I've graduated, I'm engaged, but there's a part of me that would love to spend another year or two just like I am now, without having to start a real job or pay for everything myself or deal with all the real world things that come with adulthood.
I think that could all be exciting, don't get me wrong. If I had a job, and I could start setting up a classroom and planning great curriculum and decorating a new apartment- it'd be scary, but there would be an element of fun.
Without the job, I can't start setting up or planning, and I don't want to commit to a new place to live. Without having a job, I have to experience all of the aspects of the real world except for the fun ones.
And no one seems to understand why I can't get too into celebrating my graduation. Completing my major doesn't feel like a particularly surprising or commendable accomplishment for me personally, and now that I've graduated, I have little to look forward to besides a so-far-fruitless job search in the current economic times. Congratulations to me?
Monday, June 15, 2009
Friday, June 05, 2009
June 4th, 1998
Note: This is an extremely long post, written more for me than for any reader.
I was eleven years old, and it was the last day of school. The last day of elementary school, even! I woke up with one of those Christmas-morning sort of moods, where you don't care that it's early because it's going to be a good day!
And the morning was going swimmingly. For once, the first outfit I tried on looked great, and I was ready with enough time to spare to have breakfast before the bus came. Even in fifth grade, I was rarely ready to leave early- but that day, eleven years ago today, I was. It was a good day- no, a great day- and I was so excited.
The last day of school was a blast, too. Mr. Quinn must've known that there was no way he'd get us to do much of anything that day. I remember spending the morning helping him move things to his new room downstairs and then playing games. At one point, the principal came to our room.
My brothers and I had never liked her. Mrs. Kinder could be kind of scary, stern woman and whenever we saw a "KinderCare" we made jokes. We were probably too mean, but even though I didn't like her much, I wasn't at all scared when my teacher asked me to leave with her.
I wish I could remember what his face looked like when he told me, but I was too busy brushing off the taunts of my friends. I wasn't worried- I was a "good kid" and knew I hadn't done anything to get myself in trouble- but they still "ooohed" at the fact that I was sent out with the principal.
When I got to the hallway, Mrs. Kinder told me that we'd go pick my brother up from class, but otherwise remained fairly stoic. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her, so I followed without a worry. When Bill wasn't in his classroom but instead outside, she led me out the door. We walked around the school, passing my classroom's window. I waved to my friends, grinning that I was outside in the beautiful weather while they were stuck in class. Eventually, we'd circled the school and discovered that Bill's class must have gone inside. As we came in, we realized someone else must have sent a message to his class, and Bill was walking in the hallway ahead of us towards the office.
A single student was in the hallway, getting something out of his locker, and Mrs. Kinder told him, "Go stop Bill," so he started to walk. And only then, when our strict principal told him to run in the hallway, did I realize that something might be wrong.
The boy stopped Bill, and he walked in with us. Mrs. Kinder led us to her office and opened the door. Inside sat my mother, with tears streaming down her face, and my pastor. My first thought was that my aunt or uncle had died. They were always in and out of the hospital with sudden and serious health problems. To this day I don't know why it didn't cross my mind that my dad wasn't in the room.
We were told to sit down, and we did, but we were both on edge. My mom took a deep breath, and she told us that our dad had had a heart attack that morning. I can't remember her exact words, but I know she choked on the words a little when she told us he had died at the hospital.
I burst into tears immediately, and my brother sat, rigid, without a word.
After a few minutes, I returned to my classroom. Thankfully, the class was gone and I could clear out my desk without seeing anyone. Before I left, I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a quick note to one of my friends telling her what had happened. It had barely sunk in, and I remember struggling to put it into words.
We went home, and my little brother was waiting with my grandma. He was just finishing first grade and was excited to be home early. My family stood awkwardly by our front door, almost like visitors, as my mom told Steve. Watching him take the news was harder, I think, than being told myself. His tiny body seemed to crumple with the news, and he bawled. I wrapped him in a hug as tightly as I could. I think we all did.
My memories of the next few days are spotty. Mom and I underwent the painful task of going through photo albums to make a couple of poster boards, and she went to make arrangements. I remember going in to see my dad in the casket before the viewing. It didn’t upset me as much as I thought it would- he didn’t look like himself, really, although we did have him dressed in a shirt he wore often and the suspenders he wore almost constantly. Lots of people sent flowers, including my class at school (I still have the flowers in my room) and my dance studio.
During the viewing, I can remember my extended family trying to distract my brothers and me in a back room. At one point, they took us across the street for ice cream just so we could get away for a break. I also remember, in a very fifth-grade fashion, trying to avoid being out with my mom when boy classmates came to the viewing. Instead, hiding in the back just prompted my uncles’ teasing that a boy was there to see me. But lots of people came- our close friends, lots of people from church, and even business associates of my dad’s. The biggest surprise, for sure, was one of my dad’s teachers from when he was in school- he’d remembered him being a good kid and wanted to come.
At the viewing, I learned that the worst thing to ask someone after they’ve lost a loved one is “How are you?” … because, really, what are you supposed to say? “I’m great, thanks!” sounds terrible, but you don’t want to make the person feel bad by replying “Absolutely awful; thanks for bringing it up.” There’s no answer that feels both honest and kind, but somehow that’s all anyone can think of to say to you.
The funeral was the next day, and before it, my family got one more chance to spend a little time alone with my dad’s body before they closed the casket. I remember this, and each taking a moment to say a goodbye of sorts, but the actual funeral is completely blocked from my memory. I know “On Eagle’s Wings” was played, mainly because both of my parents love that hymn and my mom still cries just about every single time she hears it. I don’t remember any sort of eulogy, or what happened as a part of the service. I just remember the casket being carried out at the end and our family getting into a crappy limousine to go to the cemetery.
Times like those- in between the serious times- it seems like we tried to talk about anything but my dad. It was awkward and it was hard, but joking around was easier than stewing in grief any more than we already were. So we did- we joked, and tried to mean it when we laughed.
We did laugh a little, genuinely, when my uncle pulled on a handle to get out of the limo and it broke. None of us were sure what to do with the handle, so he snuck it back into place and we all got out of the limo.
It didn’t take long for everything to hit home again, and after waiting on a string of cars to arrive, we watched my dad’s casket descend with red roses on top.
The rest of the summer is a blur. My family cancelled our vacation, and ended up scheduling one for December instead so we could avoid being home through Christmas and my dad’s birthday (the 26th). We never spent all that much time talking about things as a family. In general, I think it was easier for all of us to pretend, for awhile, that nothing was different, and after we were used to dealing with it on our own, it was even harder to bring up. In the fall, I started middle school and while my class knew what had happened, not everyone in the school did, and that helped. I didn’t want people to know, to pity me, to treat me differently. I didn’t want anyone to see me as fragile, because I wasn’t. I could take care of myself, and even if things were rough, no one else had to see it. I much preferred to control it- to keep it all inside until later, when I could deal with it alone and on my own terms.
It’s still sometimes hard to think about how sudden the whole thing was. My dad had been healthy. He wasn’t as skinny as he could have been, but he’d been to a physical two weeks before he died and the doctor saw nothing wrong. The autopsy said a heart arrhythmia- an uneven heartbeat- caused cardiac arrest. There was no clot, no clear reason for the sudden arrhythmia. I know enough about biology to realize that it probably wasn’t, but it seemed, by all accounts, an entirely random occurrence.
The memories I have of my dad are spotty and fading, which makes me feel guilty (although I know I shouldn’t). But I still get upset from time to time, especially when other things trigger it. The tiny bit of wedding planning I’ve done has been a joy- I would love to do something to honor my dad, like play Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again (a song from Phantom of the Opera, which he loved, sung by a girl about missing her dead father) or something- but I’m afraid that I’ll start crying and never stop.
I don’t think I deal with things in the healthiest way I could, but I feel like I do what tends to work for me and, at this point, what I’m used to. By now, I’ve lived as many years without my dad in my life as I have with. It’s hard to… miss him, exactly, when it’s not like I’m used to having him here. Life is just really different at this point. My memories of my dad come from when I was an elementary school student, and now I’m old enough to be an elementary teacher.
My dad’s death is without a doubt the most influential event in my life, but it’s hard to say exactly what influence it has had. I mean, I know I’d be really different if it hadn’t happened, but hell if I know how. And while things get easier as time goes on, they are never easy. (If they start to feel that way, I just feel guilty about not being more upset.) June 4th is usually rough, especially if- like today- I don’t have anything keeping me too
busy to think much.
Simply put, at this point I’m not sure I’m missing my dad as much as I’m missing the opportunity to have him in my life. I don’t know if that makes any sense to anyone else, but I feel like… I don’t even know what I’m missing, and I’m jealous of people that get the chance to have their dads around. Eleven years is long enough that it’s already hard for me to remember what that’s like.
I was eleven years old, and it was the last day of school. The last day of elementary school, even! I woke up with one of those Christmas-morning sort of moods, where you don't care that it's early because it's going to be a good day!
And the morning was going swimmingly. For once, the first outfit I tried on looked great, and I was ready with enough time to spare to have breakfast before the bus came. Even in fifth grade, I was rarely ready to leave early- but that day, eleven years ago today, I was. It was a good day- no, a great day- and I was so excited.
The last day of school was a blast, too. Mr. Quinn must've known that there was no way he'd get us to do much of anything that day. I remember spending the morning helping him move things to his new room downstairs and then playing games. At one point, the principal came to our room.
My brothers and I had never liked her. Mrs. Kinder could be kind of scary, stern woman and whenever we saw a "KinderCare" we made jokes. We were probably too mean, but even though I didn't like her much, I wasn't at all scared when my teacher asked me to leave with her.
I wish I could remember what his face looked like when he told me, but I was too busy brushing off the taunts of my friends. I wasn't worried- I was a "good kid" and knew I hadn't done anything to get myself in trouble- but they still "ooohed" at the fact that I was sent out with the principal.
When I got to the hallway, Mrs. Kinder told me that we'd go pick my brother up from class, but otherwise remained fairly stoic. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her, so I followed without a worry. When Bill wasn't in his classroom but instead outside, she led me out the door. We walked around the school, passing my classroom's window. I waved to my friends, grinning that I was outside in the beautiful weather while they were stuck in class. Eventually, we'd circled the school and discovered that Bill's class must have gone inside. As we came in, we realized someone else must have sent a message to his class, and Bill was walking in the hallway ahead of us towards the office.
A single student was in the hallway, getting something out of his locker, and Mrs. Kinder told him, "Go stop Bill," so he started to walk. And only then, when our strict principal told him to run in the hallway, did I realize that something might be wrong.
The boy stopped Bill, and he walked in with us. Mrs. Kinder led us to her office and opened the door. Inside sat my mother, with tears streaming down her face, and my pastor. My first thought was that my aunt or uncle had died. They were always in and out of the hospital with sudden and serious health problems. To this day I don't know why it didn't cross my mind that my dad wasn't in the room.
We were told to sit down, and we did, but we were both on edge. My mom took a deep breath, and she told us that our dad had had a heart attack that morning. I can't remember her exact words, but I know she choked on the words a little when she told us he had died at the hospital.
I burst into tears immediately, and my brother sat, rigid, without a word.
After a few minutes, I returned to my classroom. Thankfully, the class was gone and I could clear out my desk without seeing anyone. Before I left, I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a quick note to one of my friends telling her what had happened. It had barely sunk in, and I remember struggling to put it into words.
We went home, and my little brother was waiting with my grandma. He was just finishing first grade and was excited to be home early. My family stood awkwardly by our front door, almost like visitors, as my mom told Steve. Watching him take the news was harder, I think, than being told myself. His tiny body seemed to crumple with the news, and he bawled. I wrapped him in a hug as tightly as I could. I think we all did.
My memories of the next few days are spotty. Mom and I underwent the painful task of going through photo albums to make a couple of poster boards, and she went to make arrangements. I remember going in to see my dad in the casket before the viewing. It didn’t upset me as much as I thought it would- he didn’t look like himself, really, although we did have him dressed in a shirt he wore often and the suspenders he wore almost constantly. Lots of people sent flowers, including my class at school (I still have the flowers in my room) and my dance studio.
During the viewing, I can remember my extended family trying to distract my brothers and me in a back room. At one point, they took us across the street for ice cream just so we could get away for a break. I also remember, in a very fifth-grade fashion, trying to avoid being out with my mom when boy classmates came to the viewing. Instead, hiding in the back just prompted my uncles’ teasing that a boy was there to see me. But lots of people came- our close friends, lots of people from church, and even business associates of my dad’s. The biggest surprise, for sure, was one of my dad’s teachers from when he was in school- he’d remembered him being a good kid and wanted to come.
At the viewing, I learned that the worst thing to ask someone after they’ve lost a loved one is “How are you?” … because, really, what are you supposed to say? “I’m great, thanks!” sounds terrible, but you don’t want to make the person feel bad by replying “Absolutely awful; thanks for bringing it up.” There’s no answer that feels both honest and kind, but somehow that’s all anyone can think of to say to you.
The funeral was the next day, and before it, my family got one more chance to spend a little time alone with my dad’s body before they closed the casket. I remember this, and each taking a moment to say a goodbye of sorts, but the actual funeral is completely blocked from my memory. I know “On Eagle’s Wings” was played, mainly because both of my parents love that hymn and my mom still cries just about every single time she hears it. I don’t remember any sort of eulogy, or what happened as a part of the service. I just remember the casket being carried out at the end and our family getting into a crappy limousine to go to the cemetery.
Times like those- in between the serious times- it seems like we tried to talk about anything but my dad. It was awkward and it was hard, but joking around was easier than stewing in grief any more than we already were. So we did- we joked, and tried to mean it when we laughed.
We did laugh a little, genuinely, when my uncle pulled on a handle to get out of the limo and it broke. None of us were sure what to do with the handle, so he snuck it back into place and we all got out of the limo.
It didn’t take long for everything to hit home again, and after waiting on a string of cars to arrive, we watched my dad’s casket descend with red roses on top.
The rest of the summer is a blur. My family cancelled our vacation, and ended up scheduling one for December instead so we could avoid being home through Christmas and my dad’s birthday (the 26th). We never spent all that much time talking about things as a family. In general, I think it was easier for all of us to pretend, for awhile, that nothing was different, and after we were used to dealing with it on our own, it was even harder to bring up. In the fall, I started middle school and while my class knew what had happened, not everyone in the school did, and that helped. I didn’t want people to know, to pity me, to treat me differently. I didn’t want anyone to see me as fragile, because I wasn’t. I could take care of myself, and even if things were rough, no one else had to see it. I much preferred to control it- to keep it all inside until later, when I could deal with it alone and on my own terms.
It’s still sometimes hard to think about how sudden the whole thing was. My dad had been healthy. He wasn’t as skinny as he could have been, but he’d been to a physical two weeks before he died and the doctor saw nothing wrong. The autopsy said a heart arrhythmia- an uneven heartbeat- caused cardiac arrest. There was no clot, no clear reason for the sudden arrhythmia. I know enough about biology to realize that it probably wasn’t, but it seemed, by all accounts, an entirely random occurrence.
The memories I have of my dad are spotty and fading, which makes me feel guilty (although I know I shouldn’t). But I still get upset from time to time, especially when other things trigger it. The tiny bit of wedding planning I’ve done has been a joy- I would love to do something to honor my dad, like play Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again (a song from Phantom of the Opera, which he loved, sung by a girl about missing her dead father) or something- but I’m afraid that I’ll start crying and never stop.
I don’t think I deal with things in the healthiest way I could, but I feel like I do what tends to work for me and, at this point, what I’m used to. By now, I’ve lived as many years without my dad in my life as I have with. It’s hard to… miss him, exactly, when it’s not like I’m used to having him here. Life is just really different at this point. My memories of my dad come from when I was an elementary school student, and now I’m old enough to be an elementary teacher.
My dad’s death is without a doubt the most influential event in my life, but it’s hard to say exactly what influence it has had. I mean, I know I’d be really different if it hadn’t happened, but hell if I know how. And while things get easier as time goes on, they are never easy. (If they start to feel that way, I just feel guilty about not being more upset.) June 4th is usually rough, especially if- like today- I don’t have anything keeping me too
busy to think much.
Simply put, at this point I’m not sure I’m missing my dad as much as I’m missing the opportunity to have him in my life. I don’t know if that makes any sense to anyone else, but I feel like… I don’t even know what I’m missing, and I’m jealous of people that get the chance to have their dads around. Eleven years is long enough that it’s already hard for me to remember what that’s like.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Snow at Louveciennes
My foot sinks into the snow, destroying the smooth perfection. The road is clear, as no one has ventured out this early in the morning. I feel alone in the world, as though everyone else is asleep. The snow has slowed to a soft flurry, but the sun is still fighting unsuccessfully to tear through a thick gray blanket of cloud. For now, we are trapped beneath the blanket in this quiet world of snow. The evergreen trees in the distance, wearing a coat of needles, mock the cold leafless ones, but the bare branches have tiny icicle jewelry sparkling in their defense.
Beneath my umbrella, wrapped in a warm scarf, I am cold- but there is no biting wind, and I relish the feeling of each tiny snowflake on my cheeks. Everything stands still but me; this pure perfection is mine, and mine alone. Even the birds are huddling in their homes for warmth.
I decide to follow suit before my silent solitude is ruined. I go inside, kick off my snowy boots, and put another log on the fire before crawling back into bed. My boyfriend, still half asleep, wraps his warm arms around me and I drift off, dreaming of my own exquisite winter wonderland.
Written for my art class as an art criticism exercise of entering the "World of the Work." Inspired by Alfred Sisley's "Snow at Louveciennes," shown above. I'm not incredibly happy with it, but it'll do for a quick in-class exercise in writing.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Election Afterthoughts
*Note: This was also posted on my private journal; however, I wanted to be able to share it with someone who did not have access to that journal so I also posted it here.
A few weeks ago, I thought to myself that it was kind of cool to be on a college campus for this particular election. From the hard-fought Clinton/ Obama race to the McCain/ Obama one, this was an interesting year, and one that really drew in a lot of youth support.
Not too long after that, I started to get really sick of politics. I couldn't walk from one class to another without being urged to register to vote for awhile, and after that was through, I couldn't do so without being urged to vote early. There were chalk messages for and against each candidate, messages changed to flame a candidate, and apparently a tree in the middle of campus painted with an Obama slur a day or two ago. There were people standing outside offering suckers with a "vote Obama" tag on election day, there were celebrities coming to campus to talk about Obama, the ads and speculation flooded the TV, and there were Facebook statuses galore donated to the cause.
Quickly, instead of it being cool that I was smack in the middle of a lot of politically passionate people, it was downright annoying. Last night I refused to watch constant election coverage; I checked a news outlet periodically and went to bed before ten. I woke up, hoping to read the results and to finally be done with all this crap, only to see that my LiveJournal and Facebook friends had exploded with post-election reactions. To their credit, almost all of my LiveJournal friends had extremely logical, reasonable posts- even if they had voted for McCain- about this being, if nothing else, an historic event. On the other hand, half of Facebook was whining about how now they're living in a socialist state and will be losing all their money, how their health care's going to suck, how an all-Democrat D.C. can bring nothing but doom for the entire country, and even, once, that "the antichrist is rising."
Let's face it. I'm fine with people being happy their candidate won, if they were really into the election. But no one on either side should be assuming that Obama's campaign platform is going to be carried out exactly. A platform is made up of the things you'd like to be able to make happen- but since our president is not a dictator, they may not be able to actually happen. We have a system of checks and balances, and even with a Democratically controlled Congress, not all campaign promises can come true. Even if they did, they would not ruin the U.S. as we know it, much less the world, and if you truly believe that than I truly believe you're not thinking intelligently. On the other side of the coin, they may bring some positive change- but more than likely, like every president before him, Obama will cause at least minor negative things as well.
If something about Obama or his policies upsets you that much, write to your elected officials and try to do something about it. Obama's policies aren't automatic and inevitable, and if they really upset you, do more than complain on Facebook. If you don't take the time to be politically active in some way other than just voting, I think you forfeit your right to bitch about it any more.
And if nothing else, be happy that a majority of America is not racist enough to refuse to vote for an African-American son of a Muslim. That's a definite step, by which some other countries around the world are probably pleasantly surprised. While I don't want to champion this as a 'win' for African-Americans, I do think it may help perceptions of the U.S. abroad as well as the perceptions of race in young children here. I was also glad Obama won some traditionally Republican states, especially my home state of Indiana, but only because it signifies that some people aren't too stuck in their ways to vote for something more than a certain party.
Regardless, get over it. At this point, it's a decided issue. It's over. Barring any surprising events, Barack Obama will be the next president. Period.
Congrats to him, condolences to McCain, and high-fives to all you who, like me, are just plain glad it's over.
A few weeks ago, I thought to myself that it was kind of cool to be on a college campus for this particular election. From the hard-fought Clinton/ Obama race to the McCain/ Obama one, this was an interesting year, and one that really drew in a lot of youth support.
Not too long after that, I started to get really sick of politics. I couldn't walk from one class to another without being urged to register to vote for awhile, and after that was through, I couldn't do so without being urged to vote early. There were chalk messages for and against each candidate, messages changed to flame a candidate, and apparently a tree in the middle of campus painted with an Obama slur a day or two ago. There were people standing outside offering suckers with a "vote Obama" tag on election day, there were celebrities coming to campus to talk about Obama, the ads and speculation flooded the TV, and there were Facebook statuses galore donated to the cause.
Quickly, instead of it being cool that I was smack in the middle of a lot of politically passionate people, it was downright annoying. Last night I refused to watch constant election coverage; I checked a news outlet periodically and went to bed before ten. I woke up, hoping to read the results and to finally be done with all this crap, only to see that my LiveJournal and Facebook friends had exploded with post-election reactions. To their credit, almost all of my LiveJournal friends had extremely logical, reasonable posts- even if they had voted for McCain- about this being, if nothing else, an historic event. On the other hand, half of Facebook was whining about how now they're living in a socialist state and will be losing all their money, how their health care's going to suck, how an all-Democrat D.C. can bring nothing but doom for the entire country, and even, once, that "the antichrist is rising."
Let's face it. I'm fine with people being happy their candidate won, if they were really into the election. But no one on either side should be assuming that Obama's campaign platform is going to be carried out exactly. A platform is made up of the things you'd like to be able to make happen- but since our president is not a dictator, they may not be able to actually happen. We have a system of checks and balances, and even with a Democratically controlled Congress, not all campaign promises can come true. Even if they did, they would not ruin the U.S. as we know it, much less the world, and if you truly believe that than I truly believe you're not thinking intelligently. On the other side of the coin, they may bring some positive change- but more than likely, like every president before him, Obama will cause at least minor negative things as well.
If something about Obama or his policies upsets you that much, write to your elected officials and try to do something about it. Obama's policies aren't automatic and inevitable, and if they really upset you, do more than complain on Facebook. If you don't take the time to be politically active in some way other than just voting, I think you forfeit your right to bitch about it any more.
And if nothing else, be happy that a majority of America is not racist enough to refuse to vote for an African-American son of a Muslim. That's a definite step, by which some other countries around the world are probably pleasantly surprised. While I don't want to champion this as a 'win' for African-Americans, I do think it may help perceptions of the U.S. abroad as well as the perceptions of race in young children here. I was also glad Obama won some traditionally Republican states, especially my home state of Indiana, but only because it signifies that some people aren't too stuck in their ways to vote for something more than a certain party.
Regardless, get over it. At this point, it's a decided issue. It's over. Barring any surprising events, Barack Obama will be the next president. Period.
Congrats to him, condolences to McCain, and high-fives to all you who, like me, are just plain glad it's over.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
perennial
Between two half-homes,
A needed, sudden stop.
Turn the key and park it.
Leave its hood, put up my own.
No place for maintenance
On the car, at least.
Sandals in the soggy grass.
Rain falls, clouds loom low.
Step by step familiar
Trying for respectful.
Reaching hands, carved
Still looking out of place.
Stand there, "I miss you."
There is nothing else.
Tears masquerade
Salty raindrops, blending in.
Tiny flowers, unexpected
In a garden of memories
Beauty meets death,
In the simple souvenir.
Stay only for a minute
Weathering the storm.
It doesn't pass; it won't
The hood down, I go
To home. Family.
Always minus one.
This didn't come out how I wanted it to, but I've tweaked it a lot already, I rarely like my poetry, and I kind of needed to write it.
A needed, sudden stop.
Turn the key and park it.
Leave its hood, put up my own.
No place for maintenance
On the car, at least.
Sandals in the soggy grass.
Rain falls, clouds loom low.
Step by step familiar
Trying for respectful.
Reaching hands, carved
Still looking out of place.
Stand there, "I miss you."
There is nothing else.
Tears masquerade
Salty raindrops, blending in.
Tiny flowers, unexpected
In a garden of memories
Beauty meets death,
In the simple souvenir.
Stay only for a minute
Weathering the storm.
It doesn't pass; it won't
The hood down, I go
To home. Family.
Always minus one.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
"the best and brightest"
Today presidential candidate Barack Obama spoke at my university, Purdue. Unfortunately, the security forum was invitation-only, and I couldn't attend despite the fact he was 10 minutes' walk away. Anyway, I did read through a transcription of his comments. While a part of me thinks it was in part to appease the crowd (mostly cyber-security experts from a university known for its engineering and computer science)... I liked this quote:
"In the Cold War, we didn't defeat the Soviets just because of the strength of our arms – we also did it because at the dawn of the atomic age and the onset of the space race, the smartest scientists and most innovative workforce was here in America. For the last few months, I've talked about how America's economic competitiveness depends on education. The same holds true for our security. If we're not investing in math and science education, our nation will fall behind. And if we're not educating the best and brightest scientists, engineers, and computer programmers here in the United States, we won't be able to keep America safe."
[emphasis added]
I hadn't picked a candidate, and I still haven't-- but I would be lying if I said that this particular quote didn't endear Obama to me a bit.
Education and the economy (and society in general) really are closely linked. Maybe not immediately, but our economic future ten years down the road absolutely will be affected by changes to our educational system now. Today's economy could use a quick fix if we have it, but in the meantime it would make no sense- in any field- to worry about now without trying to prevent the same things from happening in the future. And I think for many things, math and science education especially (but also all education), is the avenue for change that makes the most sense.
Yeah, maybe I'm biased because I'm an ed major- but I wouldn't be an education major if I didn't value education. I get frustrated when people tell me I should be in secondary ed because we need good math and science teachers. We do-- there's a severe shortage of math and science secondary teachers (much less good ones). But I think there's a shortage that's not as easy to document: the shortage of good math and science elementary teachers.
Without a decent foundation in math and science, students will struggle to succeed in secondary school, no matter how many resources are made available to them. It is the responsibility of elementary teachers to build this educational foundation, so that students can move on to continue learning newer and more complicated things.
Elementary teachers don't always get a lot of respect for being able to teach math and science, but just because a lot of the math and science taught in elementary school is considered "easy" to do does not mean that it is "easy" to teach. You try explaining to a kid how the base ten system works, and why he shouldn't add the denominators of a fraction. It's kindergarten, first grade stuff-- and yet some of the most difficult 'stuff' to teach well that I've ever tried.
But what does it matter if an elementary teacher can teach, if they don't? In my elementary teacher training, I've seen multiple future colleagues (both other future teachers, and current teachers) who simply lack the confidence in their own science knowledge to try teaching it. Science can scare these teachers- and particularly with the focus on improving standardized test scores in reading and math, it's easy for these teachers to skim over science, or even skip it altogether. In some cases, I've seen a teacher who seems to think it's okay to just read the science textbook or maybe a fictional book about an animal now and then. Because, you know, she's 'covering' it.
It doesn't take long for students to develop the opinion that "science is boring." If a student thinks science is boring and he's not even out of elementary school, I feel like we have missed a huge opportunity. Children are so naturally inquisitive about the world, which makes learning science so absolutely perfect for them- and we crush the curiosity. For a lot of kids, I don't think it ever comes back.
So yes, I love science- but I'm going to be an elementary teacher. And no, I'm not wasting my intelligence or any teaching talents I have. I'm still teaching kids things they don't know that can be really difficult to them- it's just that the kids are younger, with less predetermined ideas about school and learning. I get to be that teacher who teaches them that science can be fun, math can make sense, and reading doesn't have to be boring. I have the opportunity be a teacher that helps prevent kids from being burnt out on school by the time they reach junior high. I can not only teach skills, but I can get kids interested in and excited about almost any school subject, and teach them how to think.
I really do think Obama's looking the right direction. When considering current issues, he's trying to look back at some of their causes, including a deficiency in our math and science education, so we can try to prevent similar problems in the future.
But I hope that he remembers to look all the way back to where educational problems can begin. Science and math education don't start in the sixth grade, or in high school. If a student loses confidence, interest, or competence early, there may be no way to remedy the situation. Without a solid foundation in elementary school, students can forever be trapped playing catch-up with their potential. And that's not good for the future of our students- or the future of our country.
"In the Cold War, we didn't defeat the Soviets just because of the strength of our arms – we also did it because at the dawn of the atomic age and the onset of the space race, the smartest scientists and most innovative workforce was here in America. For the last few months, I've talked about how America's economic competitiveness depends on education. The same holds true for our security. If we're not investing in math and science education, our nation will fall behind. And if we're not educating the best and brightest scientists, engineers, and computer programmers here in the United States, we won't be able to keep America safe."
[emphasis added]
I hadn't picked a candidate, and I still haven't-- but I would be lying if I said that this particular quote didn't endear Obama to me a bit.
Education and the economy (and society in general) really are closely linked. Maybe not immediately, but our economic future ten years down the road absolutely will be affected by changes to our educational system now. Today's economy could use a quick fix if we have it, but in the meantime it would make no sense- in any field- to worry about now without trying to prevent the same things from happening in the future. And I think for many things, math and science education especially (but also all education), is the avenue for change that makes the most sense.
Yeah, maybe I'm biased because I'm an ed major- but I wouldn't be an education major if I didn't value education. I get frustrated when people tell me I should be in secondary ed because we need good math and science teachers. We do-- there's a severe shortage of math and science secondary teachers (much less good ones). But I think there's a shortage that's not as easy to document: the shortage of good math and science elementary teachers.
Without a decent foundation in math and science, students will struggle to succeed in secondary school, no matter how many resources are made available to them. It is the responsibility of elementary teachers to build this educational foundation, so that students can move on to continue learning newer and more complicated things.
Elementary teachers don't always get a lot of respect for being able to teach math and science, but just because a lot of the math and science taught in elementary school is considered "easy" to do does not mean that it is "easy" to teach. You try explaining to a kid how the base ten system works, and why he shouldn't add the denominators of a fraction. It's kindergarten, first grade stuff-- and yet some of the most difficult 'stuff' to teach well that I've ever tried.
But what does it matter if an elementary teacher can teach, if they don't? In my elementary teacher training, I've seen multiple future colleagues (both other future teachers, and current teachers) who simply lack the confidence in their own science knowledge to try teaching it. Science can scare these teachers- and particularly with the focus on improving standardized test scores in reading and math, it's easy for these teachers to skim over science, or even skip it altogether. In some cases, I've seen a teacher who seems to think it's okay to just read the science textbook or maybe a fictional book about an animal now and then. Because, you know, she's 'covering' it.
It doesn't take long for students to develop the opinion that "science is boring." If a student thinks science is boring and he's not even out of elementary school, I feel like we have missed a huge opportunity. Children are so naturally inquisitive about the world, which makes learning science so absolutely perfect for them- and we crush the curiosity. For a lot of kids, I don't think it ever comes back.
So yes, I love science- but I'm going to be an elementary teacher. And no, I'm not wasting my intelligence or any teaching talents I have. I'm still teaching kids things they don't know that can be really difficult to them- it's just that the kids are younger, with less predetermined ideas about school and learning. I get to be that teacher who teaches them that science can be fun, math can make sense, and reading doesn't have to be boring. I have the opportunity be a teacher that helps prevent kids from being burnt out on school by the time they reach junior high. I can not only teach skills, but I can get kids interested in and excited about almost any school subject, and teach them how to think.
I really do think Obama's looking the right direction. When considering current issues, he's trying to look back at some of their causes, including a deficiency in our math and science education, so we can try to prevent similar problems in the future.
But I hope that he remembers to look all the way back to where educational problems can begin. Science and math education don't start in the sixth grade, or in high school. If a student loses confidence, interest, or competence early, there may be no way to remedy the situation. Without a solid foundation in elementary school, students can forever be trapped playing catch-up with their potential. And that's not good for the future of our students- or the future of our country.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Favre Retirement Quandary: A Fan's Perspective
Brett Favre retired in March, much to my surprise. The last few years, when he'd contemplated retirement, I'd prepared myself for it. But last year? When the Packers were so close to getting in the SuperBowl? When Favre had a year so much improved from his last few? I thought sure that it wasn't even a worry this year.
And then he retired, teary-eyed, saying he could play, but he didn't want to. He was just "tired."
I wasn't happy, and I was very unsure how I'd react to watching a Packers team without Favre at quarterback (something I really can hardly ever remember seeing) when this football season started.
By now, I'd become at least more accustomed to the idea. I was going to the first preseason game of the season, and looking forward to seeing Aaron Rodgers' first game as a starter. As it turns out, that may not be what I see at all!
For those of you not big into football, Brett Favre has expressed his desire to come back out of retirement this season. The Packers, who have been obviously moving forward, intensely working the offense with Rodgers at QB, didn't welcome him back with open arms, and with good reason (especially because if Rodgers, a first-round pick and college star, doesn't get his chance now- he's likely to refuse to re-sign with the Packers after his contract ends next year. And then the Packers are left without a probable heir when Brett does retire in the next few years.)
Brett's upped the ante, requesting "an unconditional release" from the Packers. His love of playing football (something I normally laud as one of my favorite qualities of his) has led him to seek a release from the Packers. If they won't let him play, well, then- he wants to go to someone who will.
I can understand that he just wants to play, but one of my other favorite Favre-ian qualities is his loyalty to the Packers. And seeing Favre in a uniform other than a Packers one will not sit well with me, or many other fans. I think Favre feels his loyalty has been betrayed, but really- did he expect the Packers to sit around waiting for him, or did he expect them to continue building for the future of the team? They've waited for him to decide until June before, so when he gave them a decision as early as March, they surely figured- like me- that he was sure this time.
Finally, his very reasons for wanting to retire completely contradict what would happen if he came back. Oh, you're tired from working so hard to win? Oh, you'd be disappointed if you didn't get a Super Bowl next season? How does switching to a new team, learning a new offense, getting in sync with new teammates and coaches fix those problems?
I can understand that Favre wants to play again; after 17 years, it makes sense that he'd miss football. I wouldn't even mind seeing #4 behind center at the game I'm going to this season. But that still doesn't mean I'm happy about the way Brett Favre handled this- and I consider myself a big fan of his.
There's a part of me that hopes Brett Favre is just trying to tempt the Packers. It's like he's standing at the top of a building, leaning over and shouting, "I'll do it! I'll jump!"-- he's trying to show them he's so serious about playing that he won't even limit his team options. Still, threatening to go to a new team seems like a stupid political move, but I think the thought of him trying to manipulate the Packers into taking him back is slightly preferrable to the thought of him actually wanting to play for another team.
As it stands, I think the Packers have little choice but to take him back. Sometimes teams need to focus on rebuilding, and we will need a new QB soon- but in the meantime, Favre's doing fine and it's not as though the rest of our team is young and needs time to improve. The Packers' head guys really have no way to come out of this looking classy at this point, but I think their best option is to come out with their tails between their legs, welcoming Brett back onto the team- even if that means screwing over poor Aaron Rodgers (who's showed an amazing string of patience while waiting for his turn at the helm).
Because, when it comes down to it, the Packers need to build the best team. And Rodgers looks promising, but how many other teams, given the choice, would pick an unproven college star with a tendency for injury over a tried-and-true, passionate and prolific legend, who's sure to bring in revenue (and probably wins) for the team?
This is a no-win situation at this point, but here's my best idea for what to do next:
Packers- take him back, grudgingly. Favre- accept, gracious and gracefully. Rodgers- you were so close this time. Better luck next year?
P.S.-- No matter what happens, GO PACKERS! :)
And then he retired, teary-eyed, saying he could play, but he didn't want to. He was just "tired."
I wasn't happy, and I was very unsure how I'd react to watching a Packers team without Favre at quarterback (something I really can hardly ever remember seeing) when this football season started.
By now, I'd become at least more accustomed to the idea. I was going to the first preseason game of the season, and looking forward to seeing Aaron Rodgers' first game as a starter. As it turns out, that may not be what I see at all!
For those of you not big into football, Brett Favre has expressed his desire to come back out of retirement this season. The Packers, who have been obviously moving forward, intensely working the offense with Rodgers at QB, didn't welcome him back with open arms, and with good reason (especially because if Rodgers, a first-round pick and college star, doesn't get his chance now- he's likely to refuse to re-sign with the Packers after his contract ends next year. And then the Packers are left without a probable heir when Brett does retire in the next few years.)
Brett's upped the ante, requesting "an unconditional release" from the Packers. His love of playing football (something I normally laud as one of my favorite qualities of his) has led him to seek a release from the Packers. If they won't let him play, well, then- he wants to go to someone who will.
I can understand that he just wants to play, but one of my other favorite Favre-ian qualities is his loyalty to the Packers. And seeing Favre in a uniform other than a Packers one will not sit well with me, or many other fans. I think Favre feels his loyalty has been betrayed, but really- did he expect the Packers to sit around waiting for him, or did he expect them to continue building for the future of the team? They've waited for him to decide until June before, so when he gave them a decision as early as March, they surely figured- like me- that he was sure this time.
Finally, his very reasons for wanting to retire completely contradict what would happen if he came back. Oh, you're tired from working so hard to win? Oh, you'd be disappointed if you didn't get a Super Bowl next season? How does switching to a new team, learning a new offense, getting in sync with new teammates and coaches fix those problems?
I can understand that Favre wants to play again; after 17 years, it makes sense that he'd miss football. I wouldn't even mind seeing #4 behind center at the game I'm going to this season. But that still doesn't mean I'm happy about the way Brett Favre handled this- and I consider myself a big fan of his.
There's a part of me that hopes Brett Favre is just trying to tempt the Packers. It's like he's standing at the top of a building, leaning over and shouting, "I'll do it! I'll jump!"-- he's trying to show them he's so serious about playing that he won't even limit his team options. Still, threatening to go to a new team seems like a stupid political move, but I think the thought of him trying to manipulate the Packers into taking him back is slightly preferrable to the thought of him actually wanting to play for another team.
As it stands, I think the Packers have little choice but to take him back. Sometimes teams need to focus on rebuilding, and we will need a new QB soon- but in the meantime, Favre's doing fine and it's not as though the rest of our team is young and needs time to improve. The Packers' head guys really have no way to come out of this looking classy at this point, but I think their best option is to come out with their tails between their legs, welcoming Brett back onto the team- even if that means screwing over poor Aaron Rodgers (who's showed an amazing string of patience while waiting for his turn at the helm).
Because, when it comes down to it, the Packers need to build the best team. And Rodgers looks promising, but how many other teams, given the choice, would pick an unproven college star with a tendency for injury over a tried-and-true, passionate and prolific legend, who's sure to bring in revenue (and probably wins) for the team?
This is a no-win situation at this point, but here's my best idea for what to do next:
Packers- take him back, grudgingly. Favre- accept, gracious and gracefully. Rodgers- you were so close this time. Better luck next year?
P.S.-- No matter what happens, GO PACKERS! :)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
the san fransisco pride
My good friend on LiveJournal, Starbucks521, posted this today. I found it interesting, and thought some other people might, as well. I've copied her exact words below (with the exception of adding an informative link that I'm almost certain refers to what she was talking about) in the indented paragraphs:
My own home church is a member of the ELCA. The ELCA also has a mostly accepting stance, which makes me proud. I don't think I have to agree with every single thing the church synod says in order to go to a certain church, but I do think the general beliefs must align with mine. I don't think I could go to a church that condemns homosexuals. I don't think that's right to do, the verses I've read seem less cut-and-dry than many people would have me seem (particuarly when comparing multiple translations and versions of the Bible), and condemning gay people does not at all fit with my view of God. Maybe it's because I was raised a Lutheran and one of our main ideals is the idea of grace, but I simply can't believe it for myself that God is a homophobe.
I'm not trying to change anyone's mind, but I do like pointing out that not all Christians think it is wrong to be homosexual. And even some that think it's a sin or a trial (like Catholicism) don't condone judging people who do suffer from it. After all, we're all sinners, and who recognizes that better than Catholics? :)
So, believe what you want about whether it's right to be gay. But don't believe that all Christians feel similarly on the issue- because there are plenty of accepting, loving Christians (whether they personally believe it's right or not). Just because we're often quieter than all the extreme homophobic Christians doesn't mean that you should assume we don't exist.
I was looking up something else in the Catechism this morning, and I saw this, and I thought a couple of you might like to know what exactly Catholics believe about homosexuality. This is taken straight out of the Catechism.
"The number of men and women who have deep-seated homosexual tendencies is not negligible. This inclination constitutes for most of them a trial. They must be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. Every sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided."
I know obviously that not every Catholic does that, but then, that wasn't my point. I just wanted to share.
My own home church is a member of the ELCA. The ELCA also has a mostly accepting stance, which makes me proud. I don't think I have to agree with every single thing the church synod says in order to go to a certain church, but I do think the general beliefs must align with mine. I don't think I could go to a church that condemns homosexuals. I don't think that's right to do, the verses I've read seem less cut-and-dry than many people would have me seem (particuarly when comparing multiple translations and versions of the Bible), and condemning gay people does not at all fit with my view of God. Maybe it's because I was raised a Lutheran and one of our main ideals is the idea of grace, but I simply can't believe it for myself that God is a homophobe.
I'm not trying to change anyone's mind, but I do like pointing out that not all Christians think it is wrong to be homosexual. And even some that think it's a sin or a trial (like Catholicism) don't condone judging people who do suffer from it. After all, we're all sinners, and who recognizes that better than Catholics? :)
So, believe what you want about whether it's right to be gay. But don't believe that all Christians feel similarly on the issue- because there are plenty of accepting, loving Christians (whether they personally believe it's right or not). Just because we're often quieter than all the extreme homophobic Christians doesn't mean that you should assume we don't exist.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
keeping pace
Lately, I've felt like I must really be getting to the 'grown up' stage of my life, mostly because I'm nearing the end of my college career and so many people I know are becoming engaged or married. Even though it's odd for me, I'm happy for them. Getting engaged, getting married, graduating, getting 'real' jobs, and even having kids are exciting milestones.
But with those good things come some sad.
Today I found out that a girl I took dance lessons with for many years had passed away. Her obituary is vague, and I don't know how or why she died. I did find out she'd had a child- a son- that I didn't know about before. I hadn't talked to this girl in years, as she quit dance before me, and I quit my sophomore year of high school.
We weren't especially close, but we were in the same class for years growing up, and I remember her well. It's hard for me to believe she's died.
I talk a lot about my dad's death, because it affected me the most of any death I've experienced. But there's something different about something traumatic happening to one of my peers- like this girl, or my roommate from a couple of years ago. I wasn't still close to either girl, so I didn't grieve, exactly, but it's still weird for me to think about.
I wish I could describe it better, but I feel like it's the other side of the 'feeling older' coin. It feels strange and different that so many people around my age are taking such big steps in their lives, but it also feels strange to know that some of the people around my age are losing their lives, never having the opportunity to take some of those big steps.
It feels like a goofy analogy, but I guess it seems a little like running a race and watching some people alongside you start taking bigger strides and moving ahead, but at the same time seeing a couple dropping out of the race. When I'm sort of nonchalantly keeping pace, it feels weird to see others taking such dramatic turns, for the better or worse.
Rest in peace, Corrine.
But with those good things come some sad.
Today I found out that a girl I took dance lessons with for many years had passed away. Her obituary is vague, and I don't know how or why she died. I did find out she'd had a child- a son- that I didn't know about before. I hadn't talked to this girl in years, as she quit dance before me, and I quit my sophomore year of high school.
We weren't especially close, but we were in the same class for years growing up, and I remember her well. It's hard for me to believe she's died.
I talk a lot about my dad's death, because it affected me the most of any death I've experienced. But there's something different about something traumatic happening to one of my peers- like this girl, or my roommate from a couple of years ago. I wasn't still close to either girl, so I didn't grieve, exactly, but it's still weird for me to think about.
I wish I could describe it better, but I feel like it's the other side of the 'feeling older' coin. It feels strange and different that so many people around my age are taking such big steps in their lives, but it also feels strange to know that some of the people around my age are losing their lives, never having the opportunity to take some of those big steps.
It feels like a goofy analogy, but I guess it seems a little like running a race and watching some people alongside you start taking bigger strides and moving ahead, but at the same time seeing a couple dropping out of the race. When I'm sort of nonchalantly keeping pace, it feels weird to see others taking such dramatic turns, for the better or worse.
Rest in peace, Corrine.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
rewind
My car is a '95. It was owned by a friend's grandmother before me, and therefore has a stereo that includes a radio and a player for cassette tapes.
My neighbor, who's 5 or 6 years old, rode with me in the car the other day, and pointed to the tape sticking out of the dash, asking me, "What's that?"
I explained to her that it was a tape, and that's what they put music on before there were CD's. She nodded, and then said she didn't really like the song that was on, and asked if she could hit the number 6 to go to the 6th song on the tape. I had to explain that tapes didn't work that way.
The funny part was that tapes were such a novel idea to her that she seemed to think learning about them was cool.
My neighbor, who's 5 or 6 years old, rode with me in the car the other day, and pointed to the tape sticking out of the dash, asking me, "What's that?"
I explained to her that it was a tape, and that's what they put music on before there were CD's. She nodded, and then said she didn't really like the song that was on, and asked if she could hit the number 6 to go to the 6th song on the tape. I had to explain that tapes didn't work that way.
The funny part was that tapes were such a novel idea to her that she seemed to think learning about them was cool.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
photography ransom
The last time I added photos to Flickr, I started getting the following message: __________________________ Hey JW05! About your photostream... ... So basically, Flickr, you're taking my photos hostage until I get a Pro account? I thought you were cooler than that, but there it is: "We haven't done away with them yet, and if you give us your money, we'll give them back unharmed." Not cool. That said, I've been considering getting a Flickr pro account. With tags, it'd a pretty good way to organize my photos, and it's nice to have a back-up of them (especially until I get an external hard drive, but even that's not always a perfect solution). My photos mean a lot to me, and while I'd lose a lot of stuff if my computer shut down, I would probably miss those the most. I do have a lot on Facebook, a few on Flickr, less on Picasa Web Albums and even a scant few on the old Photobucket, which would be better than nothing, but these sites shrink the pictures, don't allow me to upload too many at a time, or are too new/old to me for me to have used much. So, weigh in: is Flickr Pro worth it, especially when I plan to get an external hard drive soon anyway? Honestly, I'm a little put off by this new limit thing. Yes, I spose it was nice of them to give me space to host 200 photos for free, but I still didn't know it would happen and it disappointed me. Technically, they're still storing my photos, but I haven't added any more pictures because I don't want more to 'disappear.' I feel like Flickr and I are in a stalemate, and I don't like it. That said, they've been good to me in the past and they're a big, solid company that shouldn't go anywhere (with my pictures) anytime soon. My other major consideration is Picasa, mostly because I use their photo editing software (which is free and awesome- thanks, Google) and if I bought more storage with them, it appears as though it would also add storage to my Gmail account (not that I need it). Plus, I can edit photos, and within the Picasa program (without ever opening an internet browser) upload them to my web albums. Maybe some other time I'll post pros and cons of each option, but for now I'm looking for general online-photo-storage advice. Should I say screw it all and just burn everything to CD's? Do you have a favorite service, or any particular features I should look out for? |
Monday, April 28, 2008
End of an Era
Today I closed an e-mail account that I've had for years. In the last couple of years, I've really stopped using it, and I've forwarded any emails I really wanted to keep to my new address. At one point, I hadn't logged into it for so long that they deleted everything I'd had saved- and I don't think I lost anything.
Anyway, when going into account settings today, it showed me that I just passed my seven-year anniversary of when I got this e-mail account. I set it up when my family got MSN Internet, in April of 2001, and kept it when we switched ISPs by using Hotmail, and now it's a weird "Windows Live" thing.
It was kind of an interesting nostalgic journey to go through my contacts (I don't even remember who some of the addresses belong to, and some of the others bring back memories)... but the couple of people I still want to keep in touch with that aren't my Facebook friends or something have had their e-mails saved, and the rest are just being deleted with the account. Most of us were much younger then anyway, and don't still use the same e-mails. I know I'm not "frog princess" anymore.
But I do still have the same AIM screen name I've had since my family first got the Internet (over ten years ago), so I guess I haven't outgrown everything. :)
Anyway, when going into account settings today, it showed me that I just passed my seven-year anniversary of when I got this e-mail account. I set it up when my family got MSN Internet, in April of 2001, and kept it when we switched ISPs by using Hotmail, and now it's a weird "Windows Live" thing.
It was kind of an interesting nostalgic journey to go through my contacts (I don't even remember who some of the addresses belong to, and some of the others bring back memories)... but the couple of people I still want to keep in touch with that aren't my Facebook friends or something have had their e-mails saved, and the rest are just being deleted with the account. Most of us were much younger then anyway, and don't still use the same e-mails. I know I'm not "frog princess" anymore.
But I do still have the same AIM screen name I've had since my family first got the Internet (over ten years ago), so I guess I haven't outgrown everything. :)
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
in stereo
I bought a "Retro 90's" CD yesterday. We're really old enough that the 90's are "retro"? Seriously, the 90's aren't even two decades away yet.
Anyway, here's the songlist, for anyone who's interested.
There are a couple I don't really know, or don't know well, but for the most part it's been fun. Except that I feel old. I'm not like some people who practically only listen to music groups who are all/partly dead/broken up already.
This is music I listened to growing up. I specifically remember listening to the radio and hitting record on my tape deck when I recognized the intros to some of these songs (after the freaking DJ finally shut up). I made my own mixtapes- and now the only mixtape I've listened to in ages is this one.
I had an old stereo for part of the time growing up which still had an 8-track, and I had two I could listen to. That was mostly old and out of vogue, though, so I mostly had cassettes. Before too long, the CD gained popularity and beat out tapes.
(Fun fact: My first CD was Smash Mouth's Fush Yu Mang, with their first big song "Walkin' on the Sun" (which is actually the first track on my *retro* CD). My brother bought it for me, although I wasn't big on Smash Mouth, because he was. And if he bought it for me for my birthday, he could borrow it and listen to it more than me- which is exactly what happened.)
Anyway, then CD players got better. First, they started to have "non-skip" features, although it was expensive at first. Second, the world of computers became more advanced and CD burners made it possible to make your own mixtape, without that annoying DJ.
The Internet didn't waste much time with legal mp3's, and Napster was quickly a thing. A big thing. Along with LimeWire, Kazaa, and a number of other file-sharing services, until the RIAA cracked down.
And as mp3's and the world of digital media grew, the iPod broke into the world and has continually shrunken in size. While Zunes and other mp3 players have played a part, the iPod has become an icon, and most middle and high school kids today seem to hardly use CD players, much less tape players or anything more ancient.
I know the overhaul of music technology isn't anything new-- anyone who remembers records has seen even more-- but it's still kind of amazing to me. I'm only 21, and just barely, and I've seen the regular and widespread use of three different kinds of music players- and my parents had some 8-tracks and records, still, so even those weren't too far off.
Jeez, what's next? The shows I grew up watching (with stars my age) are on Nick at Nite, some of the music I grew up listening to is on a retro compilation CD, I'm legal to do about anything anyone in this country can do (except run for president), and I've got a year left before I graduate and get a real, full-time job.
I feel olllld. :( Already!
Anyway, here's the songlist, for anyone who's interested.
| 1. Walking on the Sun - Smash Mouth |
| 2. I've Been Thinking About You - Londonbeat |
| 3. Follow You Down - Gin Blossoms |
| 4. Breakfast at Tiffany's - Deep Blue Something |
| 5. What's Up - 4 Non Blondes |
| 6. How Bizarre - OMC |
| 7. Tubthumping - Chumbawamba |
| 8. Closing Time - Semisonic |
| 9. All for You - Sister Hazel |
| 10. Hole Hearted - Extreme |
| 11. Roll to Me - Del Amitri |
| 12. Kiss the Rain - Billie Myers |
| 13. I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That) - Meat Loaf |
| 14. Cat's in the Cradle - Ugly Kid Joe |
| 15. I'll See You in My Dreams - Giant |
| 16. MMM Bop - Hanson |
There are a couple I don't really know, or don't know well, but for the most part it's been fun. Except that I feel old. I'm not like some people who practically only listen to music groups who are all/partly dead/broken up already.
This is music I listened to growing up. I specifically remember listening to the radio and hitting record on my tape deck when I recognized the intros to some of these songs (after the freaking DJ finally shut up). I made my own mixtapes- and now the only mixtape I've listened to in ages is this one.
I had an old stereo for part of the time growing up which still had an 8-track, and I had two I could listen to. That was mostly old and out of vogue, though, so I mostly had cassettes. Before too long, the CD gained popularity and beat out tapes.
(Fun fact: My first CD was Smash Mouth's Fush Yu Mang, with their first big song "Walkin' on the Sun" (which is actually the first track on my *retro* CD). My brother bought it for me, although I wasn't big on Smash Mouth, because he was. And if he bought it for me for my birthday, he could borrow it and listen to it more than me- which is exactly what happened.)
Anyway, then CD players got better. First, they started to have "non-skip" features, although it was expensive at first. Second, the world of computers became more advanced and CD burners made it possible to make your own mixtape, without that annoying DJ.
The Internet didn't waste much time with legal mp3's, and Napster was quickly a thing. A big thing. Along with LimeWire, Kazaa, and a number of other file-sharing services, until the RIAA cracked down.
And as mp3's and the world of digital media grew, the iPod broke into the world and has continually shrunken in size. While Zunes and other mp3 players have played a part, the iPod has become an icon, and most middle and high school kids today seem to hardly use CD players, much less tape players or anything more ancient.
I know the overhaul of music technology isn't anything new-- anyone who remembers records has seen even more-- but it's still kind of amazing to me. I'm only 21, and just barely, and I've seen the regular and widespread use of three different kinds of music players- and my parents had some 8-tracks and records, still, so even those weren't too far off.
Jeez, what's next? The shows I grew up watching (with stars my age) are on Nick at Nite, some of the music I grew up listening to is on a retro compilation CD, I'm legal to do about anything anyone in this country can do (except run for president), and I've got a year left before I graduate and get a real, full-time job.
I feel olllld. :( Already!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
"Chinese New Year Man"
The kids in the first-grade class I work with made me think about something yesterday.
One of our college instructors came in the classroom for a minute to observe and talk to us, and I believe he's Filipino. A few of the students asked who it was, and I told them he was our teacher.
One of the students then said, "He's Chinese New Year Man!"
Me: "No, I don't think so."
Her: "But he's Chinese."
Me: "I don't think he is. And why does that matter?"
Her: "I dunno."
Me: "I mean, I'm Italian and Norwegian..."
Her: "You're WEGIAN?"
Anyway, my best guess is that these kids had someone- probably a Chinese man- come in to talk to them about Chinese New Year. And that's great. But in this "diversity" education, what are we really promoting?
I guess I worry that these kids- at least the very young ones- might be using this new information to create stereotypes in their head. I think it's important to teach kids about other parts of the world and their cultures, but what if the way we go about it encourages these young students to make generalizations and assumptions about people?
I think it must be important to talk about cultures and traditions in a way that includes Americans, and a way that discusses what it means to have heritage of a certain country, so that students understand not everyone who looks "Chinese" to them may have ancestors from China, or may not be from China themselves. A person can look different, but still be an American who lives just like the students themselves do, and I think it's important for them to realize they can't make assumptions about how a person lives based on what they look like. Part of that might also come from being sure that they meet many people from many cultures, and that they talk about cultures where their own families might have come from. This way, students don't see different cultures as a necessarily foreign thing, but as a part of each person's heritage- including their own.
Maybe that's harder than it seems, especially with young children who often are within the first couple stages of cognitive development and (theoretically) learn by categorizing new information into existing schemata. I'm just a bit concerned that perhaps by trying to expose the students to diversity and multiculturalism (which are huge buzzwords today in both education and the world at large), we are creating a stereotypical association in their minds.
One of our college instructors came in the classroom for a minute to observe and talk to us, and I believe he's Filipino. A few of the students asked who it was, and I told them he was our teacher.
One of the students then said, "He's Chinese New Year Man!"
Me: "No, I don't think so."
Her: "But he's Chinese."
Me: "I don't think he is. And why does that matter?"
Her: "I dunno."
Me: "I mean, I'm Italian and Norwegian..."
Her: "You're WEGIAN?"
Anyway, my best guess is that these kids had someone- probably a Chinese man- come in to talk to them about Chinese New Year. And that's great. But in this "diversity" education, what are we really promoting?
I guess I worry that these kids- at least the very young ones- might be using this new information to create stereotypes in their head. I think it's important to teach kids about other parts of the world and their cultures, but what if the way we go about it encourages these young students to make generalizations and assumptions about people?
I think it must be important to talk about cultures and traditions in a way that includes Americans, and a way that discusses what it means to have heritage of a certain country, so that students understand not everyone who looks "Chinese" to them may have ancestors from China, or may not be from China themselves. A person can look different, but still be an American who lives just like the students themselves do, and I think it's important for them to realize they can't make assumptions about how a person lives based on what they look like. Part of that might also come from being sure that they meet many people from many cultures, and that they talk about cultures where their own families might have come from. This way, students don't see different cultures as a necessarily foreign thing, but as a part of each person's heritage- including their own.
Maybe that's harder than it seems, especially with young children who often are within the first couple stages of cognitive development and (theoretically) learn by categorizing new information into existing schemata. I'm just a bit concerned that perhaps by trying to expose the students to diversity and multiculturalism (which are huge buzzwords today in both education and the world at large), we are creating a stereotypical association in their minds.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Little Beggars
The kids' Treasure Books arrived today, and they were so excited. I was, too! The books looked professional and were printed so nicely, even though they were written and illustrated by first graders.
They had written individual books, but they'd also collaborated on a "There's A Wocket In My Pocket"-style book as a class. The teacher read it aloud, and some of the kids' parents had ordered copies, but others hadn't. Some kids who hadn't ordered one wanted one now, and the teacher said she could order more, if they asked their parents.
She suggested that maybe the kids ask their parents if there were extra chores they could do to make money or earn the book, and then wanted to remind the students of something, so she asked: "But what should we never do?"
One of the girls shouted out, "CHORES!"
The teacher had meant "beg," but I liked the student response. :)
They had written individual books, but they'd also collaborated on a "There's A Wocket In My Pocket"-style book as a class. The teacher read it aloud, and some of the kids' parents had ordered copies, but others hadn't. Some kids who hadn't ordered one wanted one now, and the teacher said she could order more, if they asked their parents.
She suggested that maybe the kids ask their parents if there were extra chores they could do to make money or earn the book, and then wanted to remind the students of something, so she asked: "But what should we never do?"
One of the girls shouted out, "CHORES!"
The teacher had meant "beg," but I liked the student response. :)
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
"BFF"
This year, my birthday was somewhat surprising. I ended up having a spontaneous "party" with some of my family and family friends from home, and my mom brought presents and a cookie cake when I wasn't expecting them. My roommate made me cupcakes as a complete surprise, and I got some really great gifts and cards that I love. Overall, it was a really good birthday.
I just wish I wasn't bothered so much by the fact that one person, who I feel really close with, didn't say 'happy birthday' in any form on the day- and, in fact, still hasn't a few days later. There have been a few signs lately, but I think finally, with this one, I'm pretty sure we're not 'best friends' anymore. It's sort of... final, and sad.
Oh well. I have lots of friends- really great ones, both on campus and away- and even someone I might be able to consider a female 'best friend' here on campus. And, like I said, I had a good birthday. It's just hard for my mind to not dwell a little on someone who means so much to me not calling, e-mailing, sending something, or even something as simple as writing on my Facebook wall.
Anyway, I'm 21 now. I didn't go out and drink, as is the custom around here (21 being the legal drinking age for alcohol, and me being in college), but that's because I was busy this weekend and drinking is just not something that I find all that exciting. I did have a good weekend of dancing and improv and friends and birthday things, though- so who needs alcohol?
I just wish I wasn't bothered so much by the fact that one person, who I feel really close with, didn't say 'happy birthday' in any form on the day- and, in fact, still hasn't a few days later. There have been a few signs lately, but I think finally, with this one, I'm pretty sure we're not 'best friends' anymore. It's sort of... final, and sad.
Oh well. I have lots of friends- really great ones, both on campus and away- and even someone I might be able to consider a female 'best friend' here on campus. And, like I said, I had a good birthday. It's just hard for my mind to not dwell a little on someone who means so much to me not calling, e-mailing, sending something, or even something as simple as writing on my Facebook wall.
Anyway, I'm 21 now. I didn't go out and drink, as is the custom around here (21 being the legal drinking age for alcohol, and me being in college), but that's because I was busy this weekend and drinking is just not something that I find all that exciting. I did have a good weekend of dancing and improv and friends and birthday things, though- so who needs alcohol?
Monday, March 24, 2008
i say weird a lot in this one
I don't often remember my dreams. When I do, they're usually really weird, and transition from one into the next seamlessly. I'll go down a hallway in my house and suddenly I'm at my high school, and it doesn't even seem strange.
I realized the other day that I was having a weird dream in this strange sort of hotel where I've had dreams multiple times before. I think it's inspired in part by the cruise ship, large hotels I've been to, my middle school, anywhere with secret passageways, and maybe even the movie Titanic. I don't even know. Seriously, it's weird.
Usually in my dreams in this hotel, things start out relatively calm, but by the end of my dream I'm rushing around in a hurry, trying to get from one place to another or find someone in some sort of crisis or minor crisis. It's a confusing place, and I just keep going up and down elevators and stairs and hallways and passageways and around a stage and... it's just crazy, and usually includes some assortment of people I actually know and people my mind made up. One time someone let these huge dog-things loose and they were knocking into pillars and walls and running over people (which, now that I think about it, is something reminiscent of a combination of Shadow of the Colossus and The Running of the Bulls).
Anyway, I had a dream kind of like that again the other day, only this time I was on a family vacation and at first just hanging out with Steve. But it started to storm, and for some reason the ceiling of this place was a dome, but it was leaking. And not like the GeorgiaDome in recent news (although that probably inspired the dream, at least in part)... it was as though the dome material was porous, and basically when it started raining hard at all, water started pouring down from all parts of the ceiling.
Steve and I decided to rush up and check on our room, to see if there was anything out that would be ruined. We met Mom along the way, and she was headed to her room for the same reason. I think we just assumed Bill was on his way. We were going up the complicated series of elevators (for those of you that ever played SimTower, it was kind of like if you made multiple elevator shafts that didn't all go to all floors), as the water kept raining on us, when I woke up.
It was a weird dream, but not much weirder than a lot of weird dreams I've had before. The part that stuck out to me, though, was the realization that even in my dream, I had thought that my mom had her own room because my dad wasn't around anymore.
For some reason, it made me really sad that my subconscious is so used to my dad being gone that even in this dream world, where anything is possible, he was still gone. I know it'll have been ten years this June, so it's understandable that my mind is used to thinking of my family as a family of four now, but it just makes me sad.
I realized the other day that I was having a weird dream in this strange sort of hotel where I've had dreams multiple times before. I think it's inspired in part by the cruise ship, large hotels I've been to, my middle school, anywhere with secret passageways, and maybe even the movie Titanic. I don't even know. Seriously, it's weird.
Usually in my dreams in this hotel, things start out relatively calm, but by the end of my dream I'm rushing around in a hurry, trying to get from one place to another or find someone in some sort of crisis or minor crisis. It's a confusing place, and I just keep going up and down elevators and stairs and hallways and passageways and around a stage and... it's just crazy, and usually includes some assortment of people I actually know and people my mind made up. One time someone let these huge dog-things loose and they were knocking into pillars and walls and running over people (which, now that I think about it, is something reminiscent of a combination of Shadow of the Colossus and The Running of the Bulls).
Anyway, I had a dream kind of like that again the other day, only this time I was on a family vacation and at first just hanging out with Steve. But it started to storm, and for some reason the ceiling of this place was a dome, but it was leaking. And not like the GeorgiaDome in recent news (although that probably inspired the dream, at least in part)... it was as though the dome material was porous, and basically when it started raining hard at all, water started pouring down from all parts of the ceiling.
Steve and I decided to rush up and check on our room, to see if there was anything out that would be ruined. We met Mom along the way, and she was headed to her room for the same reason. I think we just assumed Bill was on his way. We were going up the complicated series of elevators (for those of you that ever played SimTower, it was kind of like if you made multiple elevator shafts that didn't all go to all floors), as the water kept raining on us, when I woke up.
It was a weird dream, but not much weirder than a lot of weird dreams I've had before. The part that stuck out to me, though, was the realization that even in my dream, I had thought that my mom had her own room because my dad wasn't around anymore.
For some reason, it made me really sad that my subconscious is so used to my dad being gone that even in this dream world, where anything is possible, he was still gone. I know it'll have been ten years this June, so it's understandable that my mind is used to thinking of my family as a family of four now, but it just makes me sad.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
extended spring break
Random thought today.
The news is full of political talk these days. In November, a new President will be elected- and it looks like it'll probably be Senator McCain, Senator Clinton, or Senator Obama. The three have been campaigning nearly non-stop throughout the recent primaries, and I wonder...
Why aren't they in the Senate? They are senators. Don't they have a job to do?
Maybe there's some rule or something that I don't know about, but I think it seems a little odd that they're flying around the country giving speeches and hosting town meetings and campaigning for their next job when their current job requires them to be in D.C., in the Senate. I understand this isn't your run-of-the-mill 'next job,' but still-- I guess I would just feel funny dropping my Senator responsibilities to campaign for so long, especially if I didn't win.
The news is full of political talk these days. In November, a new President will be elected- and it looks like it'll probably be Senator McCain, Senator Clinton, or Senator Obama. The three have been campaigning nearly non-stop throughout the recent primaries, and I wonder...
Why aren't they in the Senate? They are senators. Don't they have a job to do?
Maybe there's some rule or something that I don't know about, but I think it seems a little odd that they're flying around the country giving speeches and hosting town meetings and campaigning for their next job when their current job requires them to be in D.C., in the Senate. I understand this isn't your run-of-the-mill 'next job,' but still-- I guess I would just feel funny dropping my Senator responsibilities to campaign for so long, especially if I didn't win.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
JP Petty
My roommate and I have some amusing quotes that we don't want to forget. I'm putting them here, because someone else might find 'em funny.
- Eternal
Sweet
Passionate
Nookie
- Naked banana fairy
- I look like an angry cavewoman.
Other recent amusing quotes (but not necessarily with my roommate):
- Noam noam noam.
- You would make a terrible embryo.
Maybe stories will come some other time.
- Eternal
Sweet
Passionate
Nookie
- Naked banana fairy
- I look like an angry cavewoman.
Other recent amusing quotes (but not necessarily with my roommate):
- Noam noam noam.
- You would make a terrible embryo.
Maybe stories will come some other time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
