It is less than a month until the wedding, and I feel what the "Conscious Weddings" website describes as "feelings of liminality." Limen is the Latin word for threshold: liminality is the feeling of being at the threshold between two stages of life. That definitely describes me right now. I am moving out on Wednesday, to go to Philadelphia to observe classes at the schools where I interviewed, and then to Wisconsin to put together last-minute plans.
I came to this apartment about eleven months ago. It was completely empty except for Olivia's bookshelf and my three suitcases. In eleven months, we turned it into a home. My photograph of the Shenandoah on the wall, the picture of a tiger I picked up at a curb giveaway, the Wal-Mart accent lamp. Olivia's table a friend gave her, her dishes, our stacks of books. I think of the meals I fed people in this apartment, of the sound of the train when it goes by at midnight, of the leaves that gathered on the porch in the fall.
I leave this apartment as I came to it: in solitude. I arrived here on a July night, late, driven by the airport shuttle. I got the key from the mailbox and let myself in, to find there were no lights except in the kitchen and bathroom. I sat on my suitcase and felt I had started new life. That overwhelming feeling of changes that enveloped me then is returning to me now.
Once again I am alone here: Olivia is gone for the week, though her possessions remain, to temper the emptiness left where my things used to be. I will leave early in the morning, before I would usually be awake, and walk with my two suitcases to the train station. Like I came, I will leave alone, with no one to see me off, as there was no one to welcome me.
Oddly enough, I like that. There is a huge emotion that comes to me when I begin or end a stage of my life. Another presence distracts from it, keeps it from being painful, certainly, but also keeps it from being acknowledged and accepted the way I need to do. When my life is changing, I don't like to be shuffled from one thing to another, to be conversed with and distracted from my thoughts. I like to have a moment of silence.
These few days, as I finish my grading, go to graduation, say my goodbyes, are that moment of silence. Like I did at the beginning, I wake up when I am not tired; I eat when I am hungry; I walk where I need to go. I am self-reliant.
Perhaps I treasure this self-reliance all the more because I know it is the last time. Soon, I will be a married woman, with someone else to answer to. I won't be quite so able to arrange things at my whim. I won't be alone anymore.
I have never been a person who craves solitude as much as company. I like people; I don't like being alone too much. But there are always moments when I need it; when, as a child, I climbed my holly tree to leave the busy world beneath me; or when, in high school, I would wander out to the farthest end of the driveway to pray my rosary where I could look at the sea. Even now, I always like to be the last to go to bed, so that I can settle my thoughts and feelings with myself before I go to sleep.
I ask myself, will I miss this? How will I find the time for this in my new life?
My comfort is that, though I depart alone, I will not arrive alone. I leave here on my own power; I arrive there with someone to catch me. First, the friends in Philadelphia, then my future in-laws when I go to Wisconsin, then --
After that, wherever I go, I will not be alone. I hesitate now on the threshold with my thoughts. But when the time comes, I will be lifted over it. My days of utter self-reliance are over, but a new era is beginning, one where I am received with love, where I am protected, where I have a place and a mission. Nothing is going to be the same, but it will, God willing, be better. I welcome the threshold and embrace it, for I cross over it into a new and wonderful adventure.
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Interesting article, and a little update
Yes, I know it is disappointing when you have pretty much given up on the idea that someone will ever update her blog, and then they appear only to post a link and disappear again. But it is 11:54 as I begin, and I know there is no time for a long blog post.
So, here's the link. It's a very true critique of the "feminist ideal" that shuns commitment and family, from someone who tried it and didn't like it.
As far as my life goes (really quickly!), I'm doing pretty well. I am extremely busy most of the time, between work and trying to plan this wedding -- with really no idea what I'm doing here. The current hurdles are looking for a wedding cake and a florist. The cake is being funded by John's very generous aunt, but I am supposed to pick something out. I have no idea what I want; I only know that most of the pictures I see are not it. For flowers, I do know what I want, but don't know anything about florists or how much I can expect to pay for a couple lilies, some white filler, and a bunch of ivy. I could make the bouquets myself, but with the shipping, wholesale is actually more expensive rather than less, as far as I can see.
Meanwhile I have been whipping all my classes into shape and teaching them a lot -- except for eighth period. I don't know why what works with the other classes doesn't work for them. They simply have no fear, no respect, and no limits.
Also, we've been working on honeymoon plans. We've decided not to go to Ireland after all; it is simply too expensive, and flights did not go down that much. But I have been having some really wonderful ideas about what we could afford. Something isolated, surrounded by nature ... which is always my favorite, whatever other wonderful things are available. I must say the idea of honeymoon resorts with spas and heartshaped Jacuzzis and white beaches has never really appealed to me. No, give me some deep woods, any day. Or stretches of ocean cliffs. Or towering mountains in the background. Or all three ...
Mostly I'm just frantically getting things done because there is not enough time before the wedding, and then counting down the days on the calendar because there is way too much time before the wedding. I just want to get my new life started already!
So, here's the link. It's a very true critique of the "feminist ideal" that shuns commitment and family, from someone who tried it and didn't like it.
As far as my life goes (really quickly!), I'm doing pretty well. I am extremely busy most of the time, between work and trying to plan this wedding -- with really no idea what I'm doing here. The current hurdles are looking for a wedding cake and a florist. The cake is being funded by John's very generous aunt, but I am supposed to pick something out. I have no idea what I want; I only know that most of the pictures I see are not it. For flowers, I do know what I want, but don't know anything about florists or how much I can expect to pay for a couple lilies, some white filler, and a bunch of ivy. I could make the bouquets myself, but with the shipping, wholesale is actually more expensive rather than less, as far as I can see.
Meanwhile I have been whipping all my classes into shape and teaching them a lot -- except for eighth period. I don't know why what works with the other classes doesn't work for them. They simply have no fear, no respect, and no limits.
Also, we've been working on honeymoon plans. We've decided not to go to Ireland after all; it is simply too expensive, and flights did not go down that much. But I have been having some really wonderful ideas about what we could afford. Something isolated, surrounded by nature ... which is always my favorite, whatever other wonderful things are available. I must say the idea of honeymoon resorts with spas and heartshaped Jacuzzis and white beaches has never really appealed to me. No, give me some deep woods, any day. Or stretches of ocean cliffs. Or towering mountains in the background. Or all three ...
Mostly I'm just frantically getting things done because there is not enough time before the wedding, and then counting down the days on the calendar because there is way too much time before the wedding. I just want to get my new life started already!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
White (and spotted) Christmas
This year's Christmas is my last one before I get married. That lends everything an air of even-more-than-usual significance, as I wonder when I will next be among my family at Christmastime.
However, this Christmas has so far refused to cooperate with the sentimentalism I'm attaching to it. It will be a white Christmas for sure -- the first one in my memory (here, I mean) since I was five. When I woke up this morning it was snowing hard, but I wasn't surprised: we have been pretty much snowed in since last Wednesday. My dad has managed to make it out for church, to pick me up from the airport, and to get groceries, but now the roads look even worse. Apparently the Department of Transportation refuses to salt the roads because it is bad for the environment, and they are using rubber-edged plows so as not to damage the roads, but these pack the snow rather than scooping it away. Downtown, police officers are covering their beat on foot, because of the very real danger that they will slide down the steep hills and into the bay.
I always wanted a white Christmas as a child, but the state of the roads never occurred to me. This year, there is no way we could get to midnight Mass like I wanted to, and I am only hoping that daytime Mass won't be impossible too. Getting a Christmas tree, something that my mom has finally agreed to without any fuss, is also not going to happen.
The other trouble of the snow is that we have not been able to get Joseph to the doctor. He was recovering from an ear infection when suddenly he got a fever again -- and spots. The most likely diagnosis is the measles, though we are not sure. On the phone, the doctor said there was no point in trying to get to her office, since there's not much you can do for a virus. All we can do is try to keep the germs away from the baby -- a mammoth task. Luckily we older ones are either vaccinated or have had the measles. But all the younger four are still at risk.
>sigh< Yes, this will definitely be a Christmas to remember. But don't think I'm complaining. I remember some of our nicest Christmases involving unexpected problems. There was the Christmas we couldn't afford a Christmas tree, and put all our presents under a potted plant. And the year the roads were icy, and we had to leave our car at the bottom of the hill, with the Christmas tree tied on top, while we walked home. The year I was at boarding school for Christmas, coming home for only three days once Christmas was over -- and during those three days Joseph was born. And other holidays too -- like the Thanksgiving I had the flu and got some unexpected bonding time with my dad when we both stayed home from the feast and watched football together. My seventeenth birthday, when my brother and I got lost downtown trying to get to my party, and it was 100 degrees inside our non-air-conditioned car, but we played the Kitaro album and made up fantasy stories to go with the songs.
No, I can see that a few years from now, we'll pull out the pictures of Joseph looking like a leopard and us decorating the windows and the banisters, and we will smile, saying, "Wasn't that a Christmas to remember?"
However, this Christmas has so far refused to cooperate with the sentimentalism I'm attaching to it. It will be a white Christmas for sure -- the first one in my memory (here, I mean) since I was five. When I woke up this morning it was snowing hard, but I wasn't surprised: we have been pretty much snowed in since last Wednesday. My dad has managed to make it out for church, to pick me up from the airport, and to get groceries, but now the roads look even worse. Apparently the Department of Transportation refuses to salt the roads because it is bad for the environment, and they are using rubber-edged plows so as not to damage the roads, but these pack the snow rather than scooping it away. Downtown, police officers are covering their beat on foot, because of the very real danger that they will slide down the steep hills and into the bay.
I always wanted a white Christmas as a child, but the state of the roads never occurred to me. This year, there is no way we could get to midnight Mass like I wanted to, and I am only hoping that daytime Mass won't be impossible too. Getting a Christmas tree, something that my mom has finally agreed to without any fuss, is also not going to happen.
The other trouble of the snow is that we have not been able to get Joseph to the doctor. He was recovering from an ear infection when suddenly he got a fever again -- and spots. The most likely diagnosis is the measles, though we are not sure. On the phone, the doctor said there was no point in trying to get to her office, since there's not much you can do for a virus. All we can do is try to keep the germs away from the baby -- a mammoth task. Luckily we older ones are either vaccinated or have had the measles. But all the younger four are still at risk.
>sigh< Yes, this will definitely be a Christmas to remember. But don't think I'm complaining. I remember some of our nicest Christmases involving unexpected problems. There was the Christmas we couldn't afford a Christmas tree, and put all our presents under a potted plant. And the year the roads were icy, and we had to leave our car at the bottom of the hill, with the Christmas tree tied on top, while we walked home. The year I was at boarding school for Christmas, coming home for only three days once Christmas was over -- and during those three days Joseph was born. And other holidays too -- like the Thanksgiving I had the flu and got some unexpected bonding time with my dad when we both stayed home from the feast and watched football together. My seventeenth birthday, when my brother and I got lost downtown trying to get to my party, and it was 100 degrees inside our non-air-conditioned car, but we played the Kitaro album and made up fantasy stories to go with the songs.
No, I can see that a few years from now, we'll pull out the pictures of Joseph looking like a leopard and us decorating the windows and the banisters, and we will smile, saying, "Wasn't that a Christmas to remember?"
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
I made it
So, this is it: I made it to my first paycheck. There were times I really didn't think that was going to happen.
Of course, I could not by any means have managed that without help. My family who let me sit around in the house like a lazy bum for two months after graduation ... all the people who gave me graduation gifts (I'd mention particulars, but for fear of embarrassing anyone .... but everyone shocked me with their generosity!) ... the office lady who handed down beds and a chair ... the friends of friends who dropped off a table ... the people at school who told me that whenever I could pay the rent was fine with them ... yes, I've been living very much on the generosity of others. I don't know how anyone starts off after college without the kind of support network that I have.
At any rate, I have groceries in the cupboard and a balance in the bank account, and that makes me happy. But it makes me happier to know that I have dear friends and family I can count on when I don't have those things. I love you all.
Of course, I could not by any means have managed that without help. My family who let me sit around in the house like a lazy bum for two months after graduation ... all the people who gave me graduation gifts (I'd mention particulars, but for fear of embarrassing anyone .... but everyone shocked me with their generosity!) ... the office lady who handed down beds and a chair ... the friends of friends who dropped off a table ... the people at school who told me that whenever I could pay the rent was fine with them ... yes, I've been living very much on the generosity of others. I don't know how anyone starts off after college without the kind of support network that I have.
At any rate, I have groceries in the cupboard and a balance in the bank account, and that makes me happy. But it makes me happier to know that I have dear friends and family I can count on when I don't have those things. I love you all.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
The First Week
So, my first week of teaching is behind me. I'm still wet behind the ears, but I finally count as a real teacher now -- one who has a class of my own dependent on me. Or actually five classes.
The first day was terrifying. My classes seemed so huge, the periods so long, the students so unruly. I thought I would never be able to manage this. The schedule of my day is like this ---
1st period--Latin II. 12 students.
2nd period--Grammar 9. 25 students.
3rd period--Latin 1. 26 students.
4th period--Study Hall. 12 bored students.
5th period--my only free period.
6th period--lunch. All the seventh and eighth grade boys, along with another teacher.
7th period--Latin II. 12 students.
8th period--Grammar 9. 27 students.
At three I reel on home with sore feet and a sore throat.
But by the second day, I was already beginning to get acclimated. I developed clever seating charts separating people by gender, attention level, attitude problems, etc. These were immeasurably helpful -- I would not have even known my classes. The kids who had been most unruly the day before simply sat in the front row and sulked because they weren't near their friends. And they paid attention!
The other thing I did was give them work to do. I honestly can't spend my whole day on my feet, talking. And they can't spend the whole period listening to me do it. So, they have in-class assignments, they correct their homework, and they aren't bored.
The other teachers have been extremely supportive. They feel it their duty to take us newbies under their wings and tell us it'll get better. Also to refer to me as "the sacrificial lamb for Grammar 9" and to gasp when I tell them I have 27 9th graders for 8th period. Apparently (well, so the students say), someone quit over Grammar 9 once. I do know that everyone who had it one year requested something else the next year. And, as they did their time, it's my turn.
I don't know, though. So far it's not so bad. Ninth graders are admittedly fuller of beans than eighth graders. But they're not terrible. They're just silly. They need to be given serious work, information to learn, and plenty to keep them busy -- but they also need smiles and laughter. They need to know I don't condemn them for being ninth graders. And I don't.
My disciplinary philosophy is: in actions, as strict as necessary. In attitude, as positive as possible. So, I won't let them talk in class, and I make my study halls actually study (horrors!). But I will say, cheerfully, "Nope, sorry, it's study time!" I try not to get angry. I hope I can keep this up.
And that's that, so far. I have all sorts of plans for my classes, things they'll do. I hope I can keep up with it all. But time will tell!
The first day was terrifying. My classes seemed so huge, the periods so long, the students so unruly. I thought I would never be able to manage this. The schedule of my day is like this ---
1st period--Latin II. 12 students.
2nd period--Grammar 9. 25 students.
3rd period--Latin 1. 26 students.
4th period--Study Hall. 12 bored students.
5th period--my only free period.
6th period--lunch. All the seventh and eighth grade boys, along with another teacher.
7th period--Latin II. 12 students.
8th period--Grammar 9. 27 students.
At three I reel on home with sore feet and a sore throat.
But by the second day, I was already beginning to get acclimated. I developed clever seating charts separating people by gender, attention level, attitude problems, etc. These were immeasurably helpful -- I would not have even known my classes. The kids who had been most unruly the day before simply sat in the front row and sulked because they weren't near their friends. And they paid attention!
The other thing I did was give them work to do. I honestly can't spend my whole day on my feet, talking. And they can't spend the whole period listening to me do it. So, they have in-class assignments, they correct their homework, and they aren't bored.
The other teachers have been extremely supportive. They feel it their duty to take us newbies under their wings and tell us it'll get better. Also to refer to me as "the sacrificial lamb for Grammar 9" and to gasp when I tell them I have 27 9th graders for 8th period. Apparently (well, so the students say), someone quit over Grammar 9 once. I do know that everyone who had it one year requested something else the next year. And, as they did their time, it's my turn.
I don't know, though. So far it's not so bad. Ninth graders are admittedly fuller of beans than eighth graders. But they're not terrible. They're just silly. They need to be given serious work, information to learn, and plenty to keep them busy -- but they also need smiles and laughter. They need to know I don't condemn them for being ninth graders. And I don't.
My disciplinary philosophy is: in actions, as strict as necessary. In attitude, as positive as possible. So, I won't let them talk in class, and I make my study halls actually study (horrors!). But I will say, cheerfully, "Nope, sorry, it's study time!" I try not to get angry. I hope I can keep this up.
And that's that, so far. I have all sorts of plans for my classes, things they'll do. I hope I can keep up with it all. But time will tell!
Monday, August 18, 2008
Short Update
Well, Olivia, my dear roommate, has finally moved in. She showed up Thursday and it's been good times ever since. She brought lamps, a computer that got along with the internet connection, and measuring cups, but the real blessing has been her company. She's an easy person to get along with, and it's just great to have someone else around! It was getting just terribly lonely.
The next day, John showed up. He was covering a story in DC for his paper, and so he got to spend the weekend with the crowd here in town. Sydney was hard to get together with, because of her schedule at the hospital where she works, but pretty much everyone else swarmed in now that there was some fun going on. I cooked a number of meals (I'm discovering I just love cooking for company!) and we saw a movie and went bowling. Tonight the guys (Sean, John, and Andrew) had their first recording session for a podcast they're planning. It's just been one fun thing after another--which I really needed after so much quiet and solitude!
To add onto the good things going on, we're now the proud owners of a table. It's a pretty simple one, but it has leaves to expand (so we seated six people easily) and is just a good place to sit and work on things. This was given us by Olivia's mom's friend's parents. (Isn't it great to have connections?) We got some nice stackable chairs at Goodwill for $1.50 each.
And for a final wrap-up to the other good times, my dear auntie came to visit yesterday. She's in town for a conference and was able to make it out here and meet some of my strange & lovable friends. I think she also took pictures .... ;)
In other news, my last Latin tutoring student has "graduated," so there's not much to do except a few faculty meetings until school starts a week from Wednesday. Maybe I'd better plan a few more lessons before things get really hectic.
The next day, John showed up. He was covering a story in DC for his paper, and so he got to spend the weekend with the crowd here in town. Sydney was hard to get together with, because of her schedule at the hospital where she works, but pretty much everyone else swarmed in now that there was some fun going on. I cooked a number of meals (I'm discovering I just love cooking for company!) and we saw a movie and went bowling. Tonight the guys (Sean, John, and Andrew) had their first recording session for a podcast they're planning. It's just been one fun thing after another--which I really needed after so much quiet and solitude!
To add onto the good things going on, we're now the proud owners of a table. It's a pretty simple one, but it has leaves to expand (so we seated six people easily) and is just a good place to sit and work on things. This was given us by Olivia's mom's friend's parents. (Isn't it great to have connections?) We got some nice stackable chairs at Goodwill for $1.50 each.
And for a final wrap-up to the other good times, my dear auntie came to visit yesterday. She's in town for a conference and was able to make it out here and meet some of my strange & lovable friends. I think she also took pictures .... ;)
In other news, my last Latin tutoring student has "graduated," so there's not much to do except a few faculty meetings until school starts a week from Wednesday. Maybe I'd better plan a few more lessons before things get really hectic.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Updates
Life has just been rolling along, fast as ever. But it's been bringing a lot of improvements for me. The nice office lady at school gave me two beds, a chair, and a coffee table, so when my dear roommate arrives, I'll be ready for her! The generosity and kindness of these people never ceases to amaze me.
John returned my visit this weekend, along with two of his coworkers who wanted to see D.C. We also went down to Christendom and talked to people I'd been missing, so that was just wonderful. We all had a really good time, but of course now that they're gone the solitude seems even sharper.
I've been polishing and tinkering with my book, and finally decided I'd done all I could with no feedback. So I sent it to the people who agreed to help me with it, and am hoping fervently they like it ... I'm in a tizzy right now, thinking about it.
I went to the parish here for the first time today (last week, of course, I went in Philly). The building is supremely ugly, but the people seemed nice enough. I didn't know a soul, though. However, I believe I saw someone I knew leaving as I was coming, so I think maybe I should try the nine a.m. Mass instead of the 10:30. That would also keep my half hour walk to church from being quite so hot.
Going to Mass on my own is a mixed blessing. It's nice to be less distracted, but seeing all those families together and not having mine there gives me a pang. I always assumed I wouldn't mind these things as much as I do. I've been away from home so many times before, but never quite as thoroughly on my own. It makes a difference.
That's all that's going on right now. I found out Olivia isn't coming till the 15th. I sure will be looking forward to seeing her. Until then, I'm just tutoring away, waiting for school to start and the hot weather to let up a little.
John returned my visit this weekend, along with two of his coworkers who wanted to see D.C. We also went down to Christendom and talked to people I'd been missing, so that was just wonderful. We all had a really good time, but of course now that they're gone the solitude seems even sharper.
I've been polishing and tinkering with my book, and finally decided I'd done all I could with no feedback. So I sent it to the people who agreed to help me with it, and am hoping fervently they like it ... I'm in a tizzy right now, thinking about it.
I went to the parish here for the first time today (last week, of course, I went in Philly). The building is supremely ugly, but the people seemed nice enough. I didn't know a soul, though. However, I believe I saw someone I knew leaving as I was coming, so I think maybe I should try the nine a.m. Mass instead of the 10:30. That would also keep my half hour walk to church from being quite so hot.
Going to Mass on my own is a mixed blessing. It's nice to be less distracted, but seeing all those families together and not having mine there gives me a pang. I always assumed I wouldn't mind these things as much as I do. I've been away from home so many times before, but never quite as thoroughly on my own. It makes a difference.
That's all that's going on right now. I found out Olivia isn't coming till the 15th. I sure will be looking forward to seeing her. Until then, I'm just tutoring away, waiting for school to start and the hot weather to let up a little.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Philadelphia
So I went to Philadelphia this weekend. That involved a lot of organizing, and up to the day before I was still not sure it was going to happen. There was the VRE train, the Metro, the Greyhound, and a ride from a friend that all needed to be arranged. Not to mention lodgings with someone I've never met ... a fellow intern of John's. She ended up being quite nice, luckily!
The trip was kind of a whirlwind, because I didn't have a lot of time to be up there before I had to come back, but I did get some pictures.
My first clear sight of Philly from the bus.
City Hall. I'm not positive, but I think it's Penn on the top.
Me in front of City Hall, sitting on a giant checkers piece. The hat is from John--it has the name of his paper on it.
View from Kate's place -- a highrise dorm at U Penn. You can see this big cemetery in the foreground, and the Schuylkill River in the background. (John tells me it is pronounced Skookle. Who knew. The internet tells me it is Dutch for "hidden river.")
City lights at night. I took tons of pictures of them, on every setting my camera had, and it was quite interesting to see how differently they turned out.
It was a good trip, but there was a lot I didn't get a chance to do. Getting together with Dr. T., for instance--there just wasn't time. I also didn't see the Liberty Bell. So I'll have to go again sometime. Till then, I'll be content with the interesting parts of the city I did see.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Moved in
Okay, so I'm here finally. I've actually been here for a few days, but blogging seemed low on the priority list after getting groceries, cooking food, overcoming jetlag (not much is open at 4 a.m., unfortunately) and finding something to sit on. That last is an ongoing process, but I have high hopes. Right now my dresser and my couch are both the same thing, a suitcase filled with (neatly folded) clothes. My weight keeps them well ironed -- sort of -- as I sit on them.
I like my little town. I like it a lot. I could live here forever ... if everyone I loved lived here too. I wish you all did. I have a church just kitty-corner from me. Sean tells me it used to be a Catholic church, but the parish outgrew the building and is now about a mile away. That's a real shame--I would love to be able to walk across the street and go make a visit.
I also have the railroad track passing right by. This might sound like a bad thing, but I actually really like trains. I haven't quite gotten past the stage of running to the window sometimes when I hear the train whistles, and watching the little gate go down and the train come roaring and rattling down the track. Luckily they don't blow their whistles at night. So far a train has only woken me up once. Last night I unconsciously took the bells at the crossing for my alarm clock.
I like cooking for myself, though it is time-consuming. I didn't want to just live on Hamburger Helper or something--I wanted real, if inexpensive, food. That's led me to create some weird dishes out of my few ingredients. It also makes me quite eager to walk out to the grocery store again and get myself some salt and maybe some other seasonings.
And I'm liking the tutoring: such sweet kids.
Okay, they're closing the coffee shop. So long and I hope to post you some pictures soon.
I like my little town. I like it a lot. I could live here forever ... if everyone I loved lived here too. I wish you all did. I have a church just kitty-corner from me. Sean tells me it used to be a Catholic church, but the parish outgrew the building and is now about a mile away. That's a real shame--I would love to be able to walk across the street and go make a visit.
I also have the railroad track passing right by. This might sound like a bad thing, but I actually really like trains. I haven't quite gotten past the stage of running to the window sometimes when I hear the train whistles, and watching the little gate go down and the train come roaring and rattling down the track. Luckily they don't blow their whistles at night. So far a train has only woken me up once. Last night I unconsciously took the bells at the crossing for my alarm clock.
I like cooking for myself, though it is time-consuming. I didn't want to just live on Hamburger Helper or something--I wanted real, if inexpensive, food. That's led me to create some weird dishes out of my few ingredients. It also makes me quite eager to walk out to the grocery store again and get myself some salt and maybe some other seasonings.
And I'm liking the tutoring: such sweet kids.
Okay, they're closing the coffee shop. So long and I hope to post you some pictures soon.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Leaving home ....
It's strange. A week ago, I was very melancholy, thinking how sad it will be to leave my home. Today, I'm excited. I think about arriving in my new apartment and I'm just thrilled. I guess I just needed time to mourn what I'm leaving before I could look forward to the future.
Life will be pretty different out there. I'll be responsible for so many things, from paying my own water bill to teaching kids Latin. Dealing with my students' parents may be a challenge. I know summer tutoring is sure to be difficult--trying to rehash the whole year's work in four weeks. I'll be reliant on walking and buses to get everywhere--maybe I'll get more in shape.
I really look forward to having my own place. Sure, I'll be sharing it with my wonderful roommate, but it'll be more mine than anywhere else I've lived. We'll decorate it how we like, make our own food, potter around and keep it clean. Yes, I even look forward to cleaning it!
I also have a lot of friends out there. Who knows how often I'll get to see them, but I'm sure at least every once in awhile I'll be able to have them over for dinner or something. And I will be closer to John out there, though still three hours away. Hopefully I'll get to see him from time to time.
I have all kinds of resolutions to start when I get out there. I'm going to go to bed and get up earlier--much easier when I don't have to wait for everyone to go to bed for the house to get quiet. I'm going to get more exercise--in fact, this one I won't be able to help, as I'll have to walk just to get to the grocery store. I'm not going to eat so much junk food--again, easy, as I can't afford to waste money on stuff that's not good for me.
All I can do is pack up the rest of my stuff and ask for your prayers. I'm taking flight, and I hope I soar.
Life will be pretty different out there. I'll be responsible for so many things, from paying my own water bill to teaching kids Latin. Dealing with my students' parents may be a challenge. I know summer tutoring is sure to be difficult--trying to rehash the whole year's work in four weeks. I'll be reliant on walking and buses to get everywhere--maybe I'll get more in shape.
I really look forward to having my own place. Sure, I'll be sharing it with my wonderful roommate, but it'll be more mine than anywhere else I've lived. We'll decorate it how we like, make our own food, potter around and keep it clean. Yes, I even look forward to cleaning it!
I also have a lot of friends out there. Who knows how often I'll get to see them, but I'm sure at least every once in awhile I'll be able to have them over for dinner or something. And I will be closer to John out there, though still three hours away. Hopefully I'll get to see him from time to time.
I have all kinds of resolutions to start when I get out there. I'm going to go to bed and get up earlier--much easier when I don't have to wait for everyone to go to bed for the house to get quiet. I'm going to get more exercise--in fact, this one I won't be able to help, as I'll have to walk just to get to the grocery store. I'm not going to eat so much junk food--again, easy, as I can't afford to waste money on stuff that's not good for me.
All I can do is pack up the rest of my stuff and ask for your prayers. I'm taking flight, and I hope I soar.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
I Can Get Anywhere Without a Car
The above statement has been my motto, as I plan to singlehandedly solve the gas crisis and save a bundle on car insurance all at once. This coming year, I don't intend to own a car. I'm moving out and I will live in an apartment close to my work. Everything I really need is nearby. And there is public transportation out there, of a fashion.
But my confidence was a little bit shaken this past Friday when I came home from Wenatchee, across the mountains, by bus. The plan was to take a bus--which I had originally thought was a train, because it was on the Amtrak website--to Seattle, and then another bus half an hour after we arrived that would get me to Maple Valley. I must point out that there are only two buses from Seattle to Maple Valley: at five-ten and five-thirty. Since the bus was scheduled to come in at 4:30, I didn't have any worries.
I left my grandparents' cabin at 10:30, and got to the bus station before noon. The bus left at 12:50--only twenty minutes late. The bus was completely full, and there was no air-conditioning. The people around me were all complaining about how late the bus was and how hot it was. But I didn't see any reason to gripe: it was about what I expected out of a bus like that (not a Greyhound bus, but a similar company).
Across the aisle from me was a couple who had just hitchhiked from Acapulco. They were from Vancouver and had decided it was time to go home. Unfortunately, the part of their trip that was supposed to be easy and predictable had been full of snags. The bus they had been supposed to take the previous night (and had had tickets for) had been full, so they had slept in the bus station and finally gotten on this bus that morning. Out of food and money, they were starving and ended up being fed carrots and Cheetos by other people on the bus.
But I didn't worry too much. The bus wasn't that late, and I figured it would pick up time as we went. After all, it takes 2 1/2 hours to cross the mountains, and the trip was scheduled to take 4. Of course, I didn't account for the fact that half the trip across the mountains is uphill. It was an old bus, and it slowed to almost walking pace climbing those hills. We reached Everett too late to get my hitchhiking friends on their connection. It was probably Saturday before they ever got to Vancouver.
The drive from Everett to Seattle was the worst. Starting out, we were only a half-hour behind. The bus driver grumbled, "Why is there so much traffic?" It was obvious to me: it was four o'clock on 405. Enough said. There is always rush-hour traffic on that road, and on Fridays rush hour starts at noon.
More people were let off at a "Greyhound Station" I hadn't known existed--I had made my plans from the Amtrak station, so I didn't dare get off there. I probably should have, though: the Amtrak station was some distance away, and the traffic was barely moving. At this point I moved up to the front and chatted with the driver--there were only about five people left on the bus. The driver couldn't understand why there was always so much traffic in Seattle. It seemed he was used to it, and accustomed to the fact that he was always an hour late.
While I was at the Greyhound station, my dad called from the bus I was supposed to catch. "The bus is leaving now," he said. "Are you going to make it?" I did not make it. But there was still the 5:30 bus.
We arrived at the Amtrak at 5:20. I had ten minutes. My instructions were to go a short distance north to find the bus stop. But I didn't count on the fact that the road above was about a story higher than the level of the parking lot. "It's easy," said the bus driver. "Go into the train station and take the stairs."
It is not a very big train station, so I was surprised the stairs weren't readily obvious. I finally found them behind a set of glass doors bearing the sign "Stairs Closed." Dragging my rolling suitcase and lugging my heavy laptop case, I hurried out of the building, out on the lower street, and took the steep hill up to the higher street. (Seattle, for those who don't know, is not on a level. At all.)
I came panting up to the road and discovered it was 3rd. The intersection I needed was 3rd and King. I didn't see the name of the cross street, but I saw a bus stop. I paused to look at it, but there was no sign of my bus, the 143. "Maybe it's a block further," I thought, when I saw the 143 heading exactly my way. I stood expectantly, waiting for it to stop--and it breezed right by in a hot gust of exhaust.
While I was on the phone with my dad again, near tears, I glanced up and saw the road sign: 3rd and Jackson. "The 143 stops one block down," the commuters standing around commented helpfully. But the next time it would stop there was tomorrow morning--or maybe even Monday.
My dad said I should take the 101 to Renton, and he would pick me up from there. "I think you have to take that from the bus tunnel," he said.
"Where's the bus tunnel?" I asked.
"You want the International District station," he said. "Either that or the Pioneer Square station."
Idiotically, I answered, "Okay," and hung up. In my defense, I had just seen a sign labelled "International District" and thought it might have something for me. It didn't. I trudged on a little further to the next bus stop. The sun was boiling hot, and my laptop case strap cut into my shoulder as my rolling suitcase bounced on the in the sidewalk.
I found a 101 stop. With a symbol next to it, attached to a note that said "From five to seven, stops in the bus tunnel." But where was that pesky tunnel? I only knew one entrance to it, in a different part of the city, but what I did know is that they are not always marked. Again I turned to a nice-looking commuter. "Excuse me, sir." He eyed me uneasily. Maybe he thought I was trying to ask him for money.
He was relieved when I only asked for directions, and pointed me north. He was pretty sure it was that way. I went a block or so when I ran into a cop, and thought I could get further directions from him. He, however, pointed me in the opposite direction. I trudged back the way I had come, passed the nice direction-giving commuter, and took the turn (uphill) the cop had suggested.
No sign of a bus tunnel. I walked further and further, block after block, uphill and down again, passing creepy guys in doorways and pouring out sweat. I passed a beautiful park, and saw signs for Pioneer Square. I had come up a whole stop from where I had started. Finally, at my wits' end, I decided to stop somewhere, get inside for a minute to rest, maybe get some directions. A Starbucks looked promising--but it was closed. Finally, I ducked into a flower shop. The middle-aged proprietors told me there was a tunnel entrance on the side of their own building. I was afraid of walking right by it again, so the gentleman walked right outside with me, pointing out the pink railing on the side of the building. There were stairs there, and I walked down thankfully.
After some observation of signs, I discovered a number of things. First, I had walked by at least three entrances to the bus tunnel, one of which was actually inside the Amtrak station. That would have been useful to know. Second, I found my bus, and which way it would go. Thirdly, and most comforting of all, I discovered that the fare was actually equal to the amount of money in my wallet. I had been worrying all afternoon that I was a quarter shy.
The bus was crammed to the gills, the aisles full of standing people. But at the sight of my suitcase and my weary face, a man gave me his seat. After a long ride, I finally saw my dad at the Renton Transit Center, and he drove me the rest of the way home. It was about 7:30. The whole usually two-and-a-half hour trip had taken eight hours in total.
However, I am undaunted. That, and I still can't afford a car. So I will remain a public transportation user, but keeping this in mind. You can only get anywhere without it a car if you:
1. Don't care how long it takes. It has to not matter how late you are. And you have to be sure enough of this that you don't get stressed out when you're late.
2. You have to keep enough change to pay for all the transfers.
3. Keep smiling. Every time you're delayed, think of how much money you're saving, and how maybe if you try hard enough, gas prices will go down. (*snort*) Hey, you never know.
But my confidence was a little bit shaken this past Friday when I came home from Wenatchee, across the mountains, by bus. The plan was to take a bus--which I had originally thought was a train, because it was on the Amtrak website--to Seattle, and then another bus half an hour after we arrived that would get me to Maple Valley. I must point out that there are only two buses from Seattle to Maple Valley: at five-ten and five-thirty. Since the bus was scheduled to come in at 4:30, I didn't have any worries.
I left my grandparents' cabin at 10:30, and got to the bus station before noon. The bus left at 12:50--only twenty minutes late. The bus was completely full, and there was no air-conditioning. The people around me were all complaining about how late the bus was and how hot it was. But I didn't see any reason to gripe: it was about what I expected out of a bus like that (not a Greyhound bus, but a similar company).
Across the aisle from me was a couple who had just hitchhiked from Acapulco. They were from Vancouver and had decided it was time to go home. Unfortunately, the part of their trip that was supposed to be easy and predictable had been full of snags. The bus they had been supposed to take the previous night (and had had tickets for) had been full, so they had slept in the bus station and finally gotten on this bus that morning. Out of food and money, they were starving and ended up being fed carrots and Cheetos by other people on the bus.
But I didn't worry too much. The bus wasn't that late, and I figured it would pick up time as we went. After all, it takes 2 1/2 hours to cross the mountains, and the trip was scheduled to take 4. Of course, I didn't account for the fact that half the trip across the mountains is uphill. It was an old bus, and it slowed to almost walking pace climbing those hills. We reached Everett too late to get my hitchhiking friends on their connection. It was probably Saturday before they ever got to Vancouver.
The drive from Everett to Seattle was the worst. Starting out, we were only a half-hour behind. The bus driver grumbled, "Why is there so much traffic?" It was obvious to me: it was four o'clock on 405. Enough said. There is always rush-hour traffic on that road, and on Fridays rush hour starts at noon.
More people were let off at a "Greyhound Station" I hadn't known existed--I had made my plans from the Amtrak station, so I didn't dare get off there. I probably should have, though: the Amtrak station was some distance away, and the traffic was barely moving. At this point I moved up to the front and chatted with the driver--there were only about five people left on the bus. The driver couldn't understand why there was always so much traffic in Seattle. It seemed he was used to it, and accustomed to the fact that he was always an hour late.
While I was at the Greyhound station, my dad called from the bus I was supposed to catch. "The bus is leaving now," he said. "Are you going to make it?" I did not make it. But there was still the 5:30 bus.
We arrived at the Amtrak at 5:20. I had ten minutes. My instructions were to go a short distance north to find the bus stop. But I didn't count on the fact that the road above was about a story higher than the level of the parking lot. "It's easy," said the bus driver. "Go into the train station and take the stairs."
It is not a very big train station, so I was surprised the stairs weren't readily obvious. I finally found them behind a set of glass doors bearing the sign "Stairs Closed." Dragging my rolling suitcase and lugging my heavy laptop case, I hurried out of the building, out on the lower street, and took the steep hill up to the higher street. (Seattle, for those who don't know, is not on a level. At all.)
I came panting up to the road and discovered it was 3rd. The intersection I needed was 3rd and King. I didn't see the name of the cross street, but I saw a bus stop. I paused to look at it, but there was no sign of my bus, the 143. "Maybe it's a block further," I thought, when I saw the 143 heading exactly my way. I stood expectantly, waiting for it to stop--and it breezed right by in a hot gust of exhaust.
While I was on the phone with my dad again, near tears, I glanced up and saw the road sign: 3rd and Jackson. "The 143 stops one block down," the commuters standing around commented helpfully. But the next time it would stop there was tomorrow morning--or maybe even Monday.
My dad said I should take the 101 to Renton, and he would pick me up from there. "I think you have to take that from the bus tunnel," he said.
"Where's the bus tunnel?" I asked.
"You want the International District station," he said. "Either that or the Pioneer Square station."
Idiotically, I answered, "Okay," and hung up. In my defense, I had just seen a sign labelled "International District" and thought it might have something for me. It didn't. I trudged on a little further to the next bus stop. The sun was boiling hot, and my laptop case strap cut into my shoulder as my rolling suitcase bounced on the in the sidewalk.
I found a 101 stop. With a symbol next to it, attached to a note that said "From five to seven, stops in the bus tunnel." But where was that pesky tunnel? I only knew one entrance to it, in a different part of the city, but what I did know is that they are not always marked. Again I turned to a nice-looking commuter. "Excuse me, sir." He eyed me uneasily. Maybe he thought I was trying to ask him for money.
He was relieved when I only asked for directions, and pointed me north. He was pretty sure it was that way. I went a block or so when I ran into a cop, and thought I could get further directions from him. He, however, pointed me in the opposite direction. I trudged back the way I had come, passed the nice direction-giving commuter, and took the turn (uphill) the cop had suggested.
No sign of a bus tunnel. I walked further and further, block after block, uphill and down again, passing creepy guys in doorways and pouring out sweat. I passed a beautiful park, and saw signs for Pioneer Square. I had come up a whole stop from where I had started. Finally, at my wits' end, I decided to stop somewhere, get inside for a minute to rest, maybe get some directions. A Starbucks looked promising--but it was closed. Finally, I ducked into a flower shop. The middle-aged proprietors told me there was a tunnel entrance on the side of their own building. I was afraid of walking right by it again, so the gentleman walked right outside with me, pointing out the pink railing on the side of the building. There were stairs there, and I walked down thankfully.
After some observation of signs, I discovered a number of things. First, I had walked by at least three entrances to the bus tunnel, one of which was actually inside the Amtrak station. That would have been useful to know. Second, I found my bus, and which way it would go. Thirdly, and most comforting of all, I discovered that the fare was actually equal to the amount of money in my wallet. I had been worrying all afternoon that I was a quarter shy.
The bus was crammed to the gills, the aisles full of standing people. But at the sight of my suitcase and my weary face, a man gave me his seat. After a long ride, I finally saw my dad at the Renton Transit Center, and he drove me the rest of the way home. It was about 7:30. The whole usually two-and-a-half hour trip had taken eight hours in total.
However, I am undaunted. That, and I still can't afford a car. So I will remain a public transportation user, but keeping this in mind. You can only get anywhere without it a car if you:
1. Don't care how long it takes. It has to not matter how late you are. And you have to be sure enough of this that you don't get stressed out when you're late.
2. You have to keep enough change to pay for all the transfers.
3. Keep smiling. Every time you're delayed, think of how much money you're saving, and how maybe if you try hard enough, gas prices will go down. (*snort*) Hey, you never know.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Writing Progress
As some of you know, I've been trying to write a novel lately. It's a bit of a job: I'm used to writing short things, but it's hard to sustain a story for the full length of a novel. I've set my goal for 80,000 words, and that is a pretty big task.
At any rate, this is just a pride and patting-myself-on-the-back post: I passed the halfway mark yesterday. The plot is a little further along than halfway; I will probably have to add some material in the beginning. But still, I feel a sense of achievement.
The story is aimed toward Catholic young adu.lts--a rather small audience, but one that is really under-represented in books. I've had some encouragement to actually buckle down and write this thing, so I started it last fall and hope to finish it before this Christmas--hopefully by early fall, if possible. I'm hoping--hoping very hard--it can be published. Even if not, it will be an achievement and it was fun to do, but I want it to get out and be read.
So, prayers are always welcome. I'd better get back to work!
At any rate, this is just a pride and patting-myself-on-the-back post: I passed the halfway mark yesterday. The plot is a little further along than halfway; I will probably have to add some material in the beginning. But still, I feel a sense of achievement.
The story is aimed toward Catholic young adu.lts--a rather small audience, but one that is really under-represented in books. I've had some encouragement to actually buckle down and write this thing, so I started it last fall and hope to finish it before this Christmas--hopefully by early fall, if possible. I'm hoping--hoping very hard--it can be published. Even if not, it will be an achievement and it was fun to do, but I want it to get out and be read.
So, prayers are always welcome. I'd better get back to work!
Saturday, June 7, 2008
On being 22
Today I turn 22 years old. It's the oldest I've ever been. ;)
22 seems a more steady age than 21. At 21, the main milestone is that you can drink. At 22, you're likely to be graduating from college (although, of course, I myself graduated last month). A 22-year-old is someone who's starting out with "real life." He still seems like a kid, with little experience with how life works, at the bottom of the totem pole in whatever job he has. But he is not on the totem pole. He isn't still in school, living in what some would deem a prolongation of childhood. He's fighting the battle of life, even though he's a newcomer to the battle.
At any rate, that's how I see myself. Many people suggested I go on and get a master's degree after graduating. But I just couldn't see myself staying in school that long. I felt I'd been receiving long enough: it was time to find how I could give back. Learning is great, but there is a place for doing as well. I hope learning never ends, especially with a job in education. But I wanted to start passing on what I know as soon as I can.
This birthday, though not a particular milestone, has been very nice. John, my extremely awesome boyfriend, traveled all the way from Virginia to surprise me with a visit to my family. I think that might be the best present I've ever received, even though he couldn't be here for my actual birthday. His journalism internship in Philadelphia starts today, so he left on Friday to travel there.
Also, some of my other close friends were able to come to a small party on Tuesday. It was great fun, playing games and talking to people I have known for years. It's good to catch up.
I hope this year is a good one. I sure will do what I can to make sure it is!
22 seems a more steady age than 21. At 21, the main milestone is that you can drink. At 22, you're likely to be graduating from college (although, of course, I myself graduated last month). A 22-year-old is someone who's starting out with "real life." He still seems like a kid, with little experience with how life works, at the bottom of the totem pole in whatever job he has. But he is not on the totem pole. He isn't still in school, living in what some would deem a prolongation of childhood. He's fighting the battle of life, even though he's a newcomer to the battle.
At any rate, that's how I see myself. Many people suggested I go on and get a master's degree after graduating. But I just couldn't see myself staying in school that long. I felt I'd been receiving long enough: it was time to find how I could give back. Learning is great, but there is a place for doing as well. I hope learning never ends, especially with a job in education. But I wanted to start passing on what I know as soon as I can.
This birthday, though not a particular milestone, has been very nice. John, my extremely awesome boyfriend, traveled all the way from Virginia to surprise me with a visit to my family. I think that might be the best present I've ever received, even though he couldn't be here for my actual birthday. His journalism internship in Philadelphia starts today, so he left on Friday to travel there.
Also, some of my other close friends were able to come to a small party on Tuesday. It was great fun, playing games and talking to people I have known for years. It's good to catch up.
I hope this year is a good one. I sure will do what I can to make sure it is!
Monday, May 12, 2008
It's over...
Four years of my life are past and now I'm graduated. I really thought I'd be happier about that. The future is bright and there's no reason for me to regret anything. But still, it's sad. I've been wandering around an empty campus all morning (I don't leave till tomorrow) and missing everyone who's left already. Some of them I'll never see again. Maybe this would be easier if I hadn't made so many friends, but I can hardly regret knowing so many wonderful people. It's just always so hard to say goodbye.
At least I'll be back in the area soon when I start teaching. I don't know how many of my friends I will see out here, or how often, but I know I will see some of them. Luckily a lot of my friends are in the DC area, for now at least.
Once I'm back home, I'll try to get some graduation pictures up.
At least I'll be back in the area soon when I start teaching. I don't know how many of my friends I will see out here, or how often, but I know I will see some of them. Luckily a lot of my friends are in the DC area, for now at least.
Once I'm back home, I'll try to get some graduation pictures up.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Life Changes
A lot has been happening, which is my excuse for not posting. But it means I have a lot of news to post now!
1. I finished and turned in my senior thesis. It was about the Arthur legend and I actually really enjoyed writing it. There's a lot you can learn about literature just from the different versions of this one legend.
2. I cut my hair. I think I got about 12 inches off. Now my hair is shoulder-length and layered. I'll try and put a picture up later.
3. I'm graduating in less than two weeks! My last class day is tomorrow; then it's just finals and commencement.
4. I got a job! Today I signed my contract with the school I've been student teaching at. I will be teaching three sections of Latin (probably two of Latin I and one of Latin II) and two sections of ninth grade grammar. I'm really excited because it's a wonderful school and I've wanted to teach since tenth grade. I hope I do well at it! I think so . . . I had fun student teaching, and I think my class enjoyed it too.
5. I'm looking for something to do over the summer. There is a girl who was hoping to live with me, and I would hate to turn her down (it would save so much money if we can live together), but if I don't get a summer job, I just can't do it. I have applied for a tutoring job, but I have not heard back. In any event, I can always go home and come back in mid-July or August to start preparing for my school year.
That's all the news for now ... thanks everyone who was praying for my job seach! The principal told me someone must have been praying, because my position just opened up last week. I know many people have been praying for me very hard. Thank you.
1. I finished and turned in my senior thesis. It was about the Arthur legend and I actually really enjoyed writing it. There's a lot you can learn about literature just from the different versions of this one legend.
2. I cut my hair. I think I got about 12 inches off. Now my hair is shoulder-length and layered. I'll try and put a picture up later.
3. I'm graduating in less than two weeks! My last class day is tomorrow; then it's just finals and commencement.
4. I got a job! Today I signed my contract with the school I've been student teaching at. I will be teaching three sections of Latin (probably two of Latin I and one of Latin II) and two sections of ninth grade grammar. I'm really excited because it's a wonderful school and I've wanted to teach since tenth grade. I hope I do well at it! I think so . . . I had fun student teaching, and I think my class enjoyed it too.
5. I'm looking for something to do over the summer. There is a girl who was hoping to live with me, and I would hate to turn her down (it would save so much money if we can live together), but if I don't get a summer job, I just can't do it. I have applied for a tutoring job, but I have not heard back. In any event, I can always go home and come back in mid-July or August to start preparing for my school year.
That's all the news for now ... thanks everyone who was praying for my job seach! The principal told me someone must have been praying, because my position just opened up last week. I know many people have been praying for me very hard. Thank you.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Job interview--update
Well, the job interview went very well, I think. It was quite short. None of the difficult questions I'd prepared for came up. Instead, the principal just asked what I would be interested in teaching and told me what is expected of the teachers. It sounds more and more like something I would love to do.
My teaching itself will probably be the main point for winning (or losing) me this job. I am always being observed as I teach, and this will show them whether they want to hire me. Though I think I'm doing well so far! I had a great class on Monday where I really felt I was connecting with the students. That's a beautiful feeling.
I'm teaching very often now, and getting more and more comfortable with it. The more I teach, the more I feel like it's something I've been called to do.
My teaching itself will probably be the main point for winning (or losing) me this job. I am always being observed as I teach, and this will show them whether they want to hire me. Though I think I'm doing well so far! I had a great class on Monday where I really felt I was connecting with the students. That's a beautiful feeling.
I'm teaching very often now, and getting more and more comfortable with it. The more I teach, the more I feel like it's something I've been called to do.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Job Interview
I have my first "serious" job interview tomorrow. I'll be interviewing for a teaching job that I want very much. It's a Catholic junior/senior high school, and I'm really inspired by the work they're doing. I want to be a part of it.
I have this theory about holiness. I just don't have the willpower to keep myself always doing things that will make me holier. Instead, I put myself in situations where I'm going to have to come out of myself. Many of the summer jobs I chose for that very reason. One would try my patience; another would make me more open-minded. This high school job promises to try me in a number of ways, from making me work hard to teaching me to care more about others. The work environment is wonderful; all the teachers are so kind, and they genuinely care about their students. That's what I want to be and do.
So, pray for me! If I get this job, I'll be a real teacher at last.
I have this theory about holiness. I just don't have the willpower to keep myself always doing things that will make me holier. Instead, I put myself in situations where I'm going to have to come out of myself. Many of the summer jobs I chose for that very reason. One would try my patience; another would make me more open-minded. This high school job promises to try me in a number of ways, from making me work hard to teaching me to care more about others. The work environment is wonderful; all the teachers are so kind, and they genuinely care about their students. That's what I want to be and do.
So, pray for me! If I get this job, I'll be a real teacher at last.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Student Teaching
I'm beginning to get used to student teaching. I've taught three classes, and it's becoming less of a huge life crisis to go into the classroom and teach on my own.
Really, student teaching is very much like something else I've done: nannying. On the one hand, you have time to prepare and a bit of distance from the kids you're taking care of. This gives you a chance to come up with some ideas the parent or "real" teacher hasn't thought of.
On the other hand, you're trespassing into something you don't completely understand. Your "fresh" point of view on the class seems like intrusion if you state it too positively. Our professor told us it's like being in your mother-in-law's kitchen: you want to help, but you have to make sure to help in such a way that the master teacher still feels in charge. It would be a huge embarrassment for them if you're better at in than they are, even if only in one aspect.
The real problem is one I had on my very first nanny job. You walk into a situation with no discipline, where you are not respected, and there's nothing you can do because you only have them a few hours a week. What can you do in that time to undo a year of habit? You're not the authority. It's not that the students are bad ... it's just that they don't listen. If I had them every day, I think I could teach them I mean business. But in one day a week, all I can do is preserve the status quo. Too many changes and the master teacher might not like it. And I teach with the master teachers watching. They tell me what to do and I do it, because there's only so much leeway I have in preparing my lessons.
That's not to say that this has been my complete experience. This is not like the nanny days with little hoodlums running around and there's nothing you can do to make them sit still. Some classes are better than others. But the fact is, no student teacher can fix all the problems she sees. It's a little frustrating sometimes.
Really, student teaching is very much like something else I've done: nannying. On the one hand, you have time to prepare and a bit of distance from the kids you're taking care of. This gives you a chance to come up with some ideas the parent or "real" teacher hasn't thought of.
On the other hand, you're trespassing into something you don't completely understand. Your "fresh" point of view on the class seems like intrusion if you state it too positively. Our professor told us it's like being in your mother-in-law's kitchen: you want to help, but you have to make sure to help in such a way that the master teacher still feels in charge. It would be a huge embarrassment for them if you're better at in than they are, even if only in one aspect.
The real problem is one I had on my very first nanny job. You walk into a situation with no discipline, where you are not respected, and there's nothing you can do because you only have them a few hours a week. What can you do in that time to undo a year of habit? You're not the authority. It's not that the students are bad ... it's just that they don't listen. If I had them every day, I think I could teach them I mean business. But in one day a week, all I can do is preserve the status quo. Too many changes and the master teacher might not like it. And I teach with the master teachers watching. They tell me what to do and I do it, because there's only so much leeway I have in preparing my lessons.
That's not to say that this has been my complete experience. This is not like the nanny days with little hoodlums running around and there's nothing you can do to make them sit still. Some classes are better than others. But the fact is, no student teacher can fix all the problems she sees. It's a little frustrating sometimes.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Introducing my new blog
Hello, Internet world. Welcome to my new blog. On my other blog, Enchiridion, I've commented on poetry for almost three years now, but I've kept my own life and my own opinions out of it most of the time.
Now, I've decided I really do want to talk about those things, though out of the way of my poetry, so I started this new blog just to talk about me, my life, and my thoughts about the world in general. I doubt it will be hugely popular, but it will be a chance for me to formulate my thoughts and communicate to the people who do read it.
So, some facts about me that might be useful to know:
1. I'm a senior at a Catholic, liberal arts college. I'm majoring in English and minoring in Classics.
2. I'm hoping to be a high school teacher. Right now I'm student teaching, which is extremely stressful but a great learning experience.
3. Politically, I'm working things out. I was brought up Republican but am very disillusioned with the party right now. So I remain conservative, with a bit of healthy (or unhealthy) distrust of politicians.
4. Religiously, I'm an orthodox Catholic. There is no Church teaching which I refuse to believe. Having said that, though, I might mention that I disagree with a lot of things done in the name of orthodox Catholicism. I might go into that later.
I think that's all you really know to get started. Soon I will start posting on my experiences and reflections. I hope you enjoy!
Now, I've decided I really do want to talk about those things, though out of the way of my poetry, so I started this new blog just to talk about me, my life, and my thoughts about the world in general. I doubt it will be hugely popular, but it will be a chance for me to formulate my thoughts and communicate to the people who do read it.
So, some facts about me that might be useful to know:
1. I'm a senior at a Catholic, liberal arts college. I'm majoring in English and minoring in Classics.
2. I'm hoping to be a high school teacher. Right now I'm student teaching, which is extremely stressful but a great learning experience.
3. Politically, I'm working things out. I was brought up Republican but am very disillusioned with the party right now. So I remain conservative, with a bit of healthy (or unhealthy) distrust of politicians.
4. Religiously, I'm an orthodox Catholic. There is no Church teaching which I refuse to believe. Having said that, though, I might mention that I disagree with a lot of things done in the name of orthodox Catholicism. I might go into that later.
I think that's all you really know to get started. Soon I will start posting on my experiences and reflections. I hope you enjoy!
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