Almost done...

This week has been hard for me for personal reasons but I think it has been my favorite in terms of the discussion board. I have enjoyed the fact that people picked their own poems and started their discussion. I was suprised at how I immediatly knew what I would share and that made me think about the impact that "The Soldier" had made on my all of those years ago. Rereading after eight weeks of reading other British poets, some who struggled in the aftermath of World War I, it reminded me that our soldiers need to be revered because whether or not they agree with the reason they are fighting--they are fighting.

Thoughts

What I found interesting this weekend was the poem about the power of the pen and the comparison between the pen and the tools that the narrator's father had used. On the discussion board, we talked a little about trying to live up to our parent's expectations, trying to surpass their level of success, trying to give our kids more than what we had and I just couldn't stop thinking about that this weekend while surrounded by my family. I watched me and my siblings try to parent our children as our parents still tried to parent us and how somethings are traditions that we want to keep and some we just want to let go. However, as I see change trying to occur, I also see a sort of mourning for the things that are going away. A pen for a spade.

Deep thinking...

I really enjoyed this week's postings. I liked seeing the poem that everyone picked as their highlight piece and then reading reactions. I truly love how we can all have a different opinion that fits together in a larger picture.

I posted this on one of the boards this week but it is something I have been thinking about quite a bit. We just finished reading "Cyrano De Bergerac" in class and the character continually speaks out against comprimise. I admire that because I think comprimise might be like change and it happens just a little at a time and then one day you realize where you are at is what you used to hate. I admire Auden because I think he wrote what he felt, even if he knew that others wouldn't like it and I guess that is how we create change and change comprimise.

Running around like crazy...

I'm reminded once more that I like having blogs as a class assignment because it forces me to set down and write. Yes, for a class but more reflective and personal than in normal situations.

I'm really enjoying reading Auden's poetry. I mentioned on the discussion board that the simplistic more traditional style reminds me of Frost and I think that endeared him to me becaue Frost was the first poet that I really "got". What stands out to me concerning Auden is how he says what he feels even if it is uncomfortable. The poem about Freud was brave because Freud was controversial. I really like that he eulogized people who made a statment and with that he made a statment. We write not just to write but to make a difference.

Perserverance

I'm beginning to think that reading Eliot is a an act in perseverance and the more I read the poetry, the more I "get" it. "The Hollow Man" was such an eye opening experience for me this week. I connected with the piece and I believe that is what is supposed to happen with poetry--at least that is what I tell my students.

With the reading, I'm not sure if I got what Eliot was wanting me to get, but I connected with it. I mentioned in my post that the hollow men reminded me of those who have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and wander our world trying to find meaning. For me, in those lines, I read what my brother had been trying to say to me. I understood a little more and though I still don't know how to make it better--I'm glad I have a better understanding.

Formed by our experiences

With the poetry that we read this week, one thing that became very clear to me was that we bring ourselves to poetry. Whether we are reading poetry or writing poetry, our expierences go into the poem. I think that is different than prose just because there is so much left up to interpretation.

I guess because we started with Eliot and the discussion of war, I can see war, whether mental or physical in all that we read this week. The poets seem to be both angry and contemplative and in search of something bigger than themselves.

I start poetry with my students tomorrow and I have to admit that I'm more excited about it than I have been for a while.

Shifting focus

Well, it is another year and another class and so I'm glad my blog is still up--not exactly up and running but at least up. This time the focus will be poetry and I'm both excited and nervous. Poetry scares me a little because the meaning is not always concrete, but is often up to interpretation and I always worry that I'm miles away from the author's actual purpose. I hate when I write something and the point is completely missed and so I try to interpret carefully. I'm looking forward to being back on the blog because it forces me to write, which is something that I love, but that often gets pushed to the back.

I always want what I can't have :)

So, I met the perfect guy. He's handsome, smart, funny, sensitive, and thinks I'm beautiful but he's gay. Now why is that? He's the perfect man for me--he even likes to cook and I hate it. So, why can't I find a straight guy just like him? This guy is a great friend and has helped me through some really tough spots this year; I like him for who he is; I feel safe with him. If only he were straight :)

I've decided to be thankful that he's my friend and stop focusing on what will never be.

So what do you want that you can't have?

Grandpa

I am fortunate to have my grandparents still in my life. My entire life they have given me unconditional love and support. When my mom and I were broke, they bought me school clothes. When I had a speech tournament, they showed up to watch me. When I fell apart, their home was open to me. I just walk in and feel safe. I wonder how they do that?

My grandpa turns 80 today. He's smart and funny and full of life. We talk every night just to check in. A couple of weeks ago, we had an arguement and I was totally freaked out about it, but he still called me the next day. He tells me the truth whether I want to hear it or not and he will always be there!

Happy 80th, Grandpa!

Tired..

This week I found my self living for friday and I hate it when I do that. I truly want to enjoy each day, but it seems like there is so much to do and so little time to do it that life just passes by in a frenized moment. Teaching is hard. There are so many papers to grade, lesson plans to write, kids to calm down, state tests to give, and paperwork to fill out that sometimes I don't feel like I get to teach and then real life gets in the way. My sister was diagnosed with thyroid cancer in January; she made it through surgery and the one really big dose of radiation and honestly we thought that was enough. Then my brother got sick. Thirty years old and he has cancer in his colon, his liver, his lymph nodes, and maybe his pancrease. His been given anywhere from 3 months to 5 years to live. The crazy thing is that he is finally pulling his life back together. He was accpeted into a two year PTSD clinic, but now he doesn't think he even has two years. It just seems wrong that both my siblings have been diagnosed with cancer in the last four months. I feel guilty and helpless.

All of that was really whiny...but I feel better after getting it all out on "paper".

Change..

Can you pinpoint the second something changes or does it happen so gradually that one day the change catches you by surprise? I can't remember the moment I fell in love with him, I just know that one day I looked at him, tried to imagine my life without him, and realized I was in love with him. I didn't make a choice to love him because I don't know if I had been asked that if I would have said "yes". I knew that love was hard. I did make little choices everyday, like studying with him, having dinner, and allowing him to hear some of my secrets that brought me to that one big moment of realization...

In January my sister was diagnosed with Thyroid Cancer. She finished her treatments at the end of February and last week we found out my brother has Colon Cancer. There was no gradual change in these situations. One moment life was fine and the next it wasn't.

All of this has made me thing about the choices that I make and with each one wonder if this decison might be the one that will change things completly.

Craziness

Cancer Carnival day at PCHS. It is for a great cause and it is a lot of fun but it drives me insane. Every rule put into place and enforced throughout a year is shot to hell. They can have cell phones, ipods, hats...just a little bit of crazy.

So, this week I realized that I'm emotionaly attached to my students and that consistency does work. For nine weeks, I have forced kids to meet the standards set for them and they have whined, complained, and cussed me out but suddenly on week 10, like magic, they became human...most of them.

Never a bridesmaid...

For those of you who don't know me in real life, this will come as a suprise. I am a fat. Not husky, not overweight, not burlesque, or volvuptious, but just fat. I have been for the majority of my life and it is not that I haven't tried to diet. You name it and I've been tried it; for a while it works and then life gets stressful and I slip in a chocolate covered puddle. I'm not happy with my weight. I realize that it is destroying my health. However, it is the way I am right now and so I have to deal with it.

My best friend is getting married. I am not a bridesmaid. With some reluctance, she asked me to read a poem. Her sister and her nieces are her bridesmaids and I have not problem with that. Her Maid of Honor I struggle with a bit, since Jen was banned from her wedding, but Heather is thin and beautiful. Jen loves me. She is my cousin as well as my friend and so I have known her throughout her entire life. We've been best friends for the last 10 years. She doesn't mean to hurt my feelings. She wants me to play the role of maid of honor, she just doesn't want me to mess up the photograph. I was thinking about all of this and that made me think about online classes and I realized that the fact that you can't see me might be the reason I like them so much. People get to know me for who I am as a person through my writing. Unless, I make a concious choice, the majority of you who read this will never know what I look like. When I write, I feel like I can truly be the person that I am.

Okay. Done.

Daddies

There was a theme about my day and I thought I would share. I work at Sylvan Learning Center as well as at the high school and today was my day to administer test. I had the privledge of working with a beautiful, funny, smart little girl for two hours. Her dad brought her in, a little nervous and little more than unsure. You could see an aura of protection emitting from him the whole time. He had brought her with a bag of doughnut holes and with her hair in pigtails and leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do. He shared with me that he is her biological dad but she lives with her mom and stepdad. He didn't know some information that I could tell he thought he should have and he felt guilty...but he did know that she loves "High School Musical" :) When he picked her up, he asked how he would recieve progress reports since he wouldn't be at the meetings..could he have them e-mailed or faxed or a phone call. How would he know? He walked outside with her, kissed her, picked her up (even though she is in second grade) and carried her to the car. My co-worker was watching this with me and commented on how sweet but sad this moment was. It made me miss my dad and the days when he could pick me up and make the problems of the world disappear.

I came home and was writng "Twisted" by Laurie Halse Anderson and was amazed at the father/son relationship in the story. A dad who roared and bellowed and loved..but didn't know how to show it. It talked about how a parent can kill their child without ever laying a hand on them and the things we should learn from our parent's mistakes. I cried again.

I moved down to the computer to check facebook and all things important and saw that there was a new message on my buddy Mike's blog. The story of baby Mia and the fight she and her parents are in seemed to fit in so perfectly with my day to remind me that I should be thankful for the life I life. Thankful for stinky teenagers with more issues than "The New Yorker". Thankful for my mother and the problems that she feels willing to talk to me about. Thankful for a best friend to be mad at..thankful.

I added Mike's blog so you can check out Baby Mia and the pictures he took of her and her family. God is good.

http://mikesteelman.com/blog/

Forget what I said earlier

I just need a snow day. Maybe two.

It's 7 A.M. and here I am..

At school in a room full of teenagers with glazed over eyes who are trying to earn credits taht they missed because they slept through class...the things I do for an extra $20. I was here last night until 9 up to my elbows in essays and make up work and only a few short hours and I'm back. Don't get me wrong--I love my job--but sometimes Spring Break looks better than others. Today, I guess my life is pretty ordinary but it's only 8:00.