Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
I've been busy. I've been stressed. I've been busy and stressed!
Working with children, regardless of academic ability or SES, is hard work. Keeping kids in school who do not have guidance at home is even harder. Anyone in the business of education or child development has one of the hardest jobs in the world. Those that refuse to recognize it need to reflect back on who helped them get to where they are. I'm off of my soap box now.
I received my upcoming year's schedule in the mail this past July. It stated that I would be doing much of what I had been doing in the past. Until I came to school last Friday. Due to a tenured teacher leaving, I am now the Senior English and Advanced Placement Literature and Writing teacher. I've taught seniors before. No sweat. I have not taught AP Lit before and I have my hands full to say the least.
I'm excited and looking forward to it, but will be required to put in much more time to prepare for this class. If my blog is sporadic, please forgive! I'm creating life long learners and independent thinkers over here! I'm keeping kids from dropping out! I'm helping kids better their lives! I have a big job a head of me.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Mr./Ms. Anonymous is most likely someone who knows me in real life and sincerely believes that they don't like me for whatever reason. Therefore writing a comment on my blog that is personally attacking rather than constructively critical was supposed to devastate me and send me into fits of emotional outrage. In truth, I've found it to be quite amusing. Because of the comment left by Mr./Ms. Anonymous, my readership has sky rocketed in the last 12 hours. I woke this morning to find that close to 150 people had read my blog and specifically had read the post on which Mr./Ms Anonymous felt the overwhelming urge to leave the personally attacking comment. Word travels fast, doesn't it?
I have decided to acknowledge the post at the encouragement of both private and public communications from others. I wanted to bring this situation to light in order to thank Mr./Ms. Anonymous for the free publicity. His or her scathing remarks not only paint a colorful picture of him or her, but more importantly they paint a much more honest and sincere depiction of me. A depiction that apparently more people want to read about. Whether my posts are "lame" or not, someone is out there reading, so I'll keep on writing.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Live your life loudly, ladies!
Friday, August 7, 2009
I watch you sleep in my bed tonight and wonder,
What am I going to do with you?
I could put you on the shelf
where I have put the ones before you.
No, dust does not suit you.
I could place you under the glass with Mother's thimbles.
No, there are no pricking needles.
Maybe in the book with Daddy's stamps.
No, age won't turn your corners up.
I remind myself that you are a man, not a neglected doll.
Why didn't I think that with the others?
I left them to rest there.
One day they were just gone.
I never thought much about it.
I think you might be different.
I wrote this poem almost a decade ago in a Creative Writing class at West Virginia University. I clearly remember the day I sat down to write it. The sun was shining like it is in Charleston today. Perhaps that is what sparked the memory.
It was a rare sunny day, mid semester in Morgantown. I had evaded the cluster of students congregating outside of the Mountain Lair and went to the one place where I would hide out when I needed some quiet or reflective time. On the far side of Woodburn Hall is a very peaceful view of the Mon River and what lies below the campus on the hill. I would frequent this place every once in a while to gain a bit of perspective on the world and where I fit in it at that particular moment.
I also remember how I was feeling on that particular day. I was ecstatically, euphorically in love. I truly knew it was love on my part and believed that it was on his part as well. I would like to think that with our remembrance of that time this statement is true. Granted much has happened in the decade since this poem was written. Lies have been told, hearts have been broken, healed, and re-broken. Lives have continued. Friends have been made and lost. Worlds no longer orbit together. Nonetheless, on that particular day I was unabashedly in love.
There is a picture in my mind of a fragment of a moment in a day when a girl wrote a modern day love poem for a boy she adored. I share it with you and hope it brings smiles and fond memories of a singular moment in your own lives.
I'm currently at work. Shhhhhh! Don't tell anyone that I'm blogging. Anyway, I'm at work and I was staring out the window daydreaming a little while ago when a question popped into my noggin.
Fictional is defined as a make believe person that appears on television, in a movie, in a book, etc.
I'm going to have to sit and think on this one for a while. However, I'll be sure to update with an answer soon.