Posts (page 2)
... it's like an obsession but maybe not a bad one?
... or?
God, I pray for you to show me what my attachement to Israel is made of. Is it idealism? Does it represent an escape? What is it?
It's a beautiful, electric place, full of spirituality, searching, emptiness, struggle and soaring beauty and depths of brokenness. It's these amazing natural wonders surrounded by cultural and sociological complexities and challenges....
I feel the pull, it's a steady one, if I read about Israel enough, if I look at the pictures - I'll find myself there, I know it. So I go light on the reading and the looking... because I can't commit yet! Sort of like not getting invovled with someone if you know you don't have the time. LOL. You have to keep your distance or you might jump in too fast! Then again, my theory is that, whatever the circumstance, once you meet the right ONE, you make the time. But maybe in an imbalanced imperfect world like ours, you jump too soon you wind up oh, say, working in NYC with 27 children depending on you to help them learn how to read and yet - you can't even manage to pay your phone bill. Hmm. I don't know, folks. I don't know. I couldn't even spell "souvenir."
Tonight's wandering internet searches found this... Hebrew Online, which made me very excited. I am not quite to taken yet as to lay out any money, but I am a fan of fun, efficient education. I want to learn Hebrew and this is a year long course to do so, using the internet. If it is as good as it looks, it's fantastic. I just wonder what expense is involved.
I also revisited an old favorite... Hebrew 4 Christians and Follow The Rabbi.
Found a little Aleph (level 1) helpful feature to learn the alphabet with, since thats the first step to reading... and I'm on step one when it comes to the alphabet! I can exchange "how are yous" in Ivrit but I don't recognize a blessed word.
On other spiritual notes... I really want to attend New Attitude '08 Memorial Day weekend - but it runs over into my work week, so I'm praying before I ask for that extra day off. It might be an unpaid personal day, which is fine, but will they let me have a day off after a holiday... hmmm.... The conference looks excellente, like, seriously good. Not just cool, but.. Joshua Harris seems to really have his head on straight. Way beyond "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" good, his follow up books I've only heard good things about - he doesn't seem to be a one-trick pony. The name of the movement, Humble Orthodoxy, appeals to me. It's sort of the mode I'm moving into.
I still have these weird visions of moving away. Then I think, perhaps I like to torture myself. Maybe I will just spend my summers traveling once I'm done with school. Maybe I'll be in a position one day to travel - and see my family/travel back home. I don't know. I feel as if two Vanessa's exist in me. One wants to settle in and stay near my brothers, mom, and get to that place where i"m really invested and invovled in community - sort of old fashioned, right?
The other part of me just wants to GO FOR IT and see the world, move, learn languages, make global friends, raise children who know more than one language and appreciate different cultures... the thought of that for too long makes me wonder though, which is the stronger one? Where will I find myself? I could be very happy with either. With Gods' guidance I think I would be content with either - they both sound wonderful for different reasons. I do think of my mom and my brothers though sometimes and I think, would being away or far off when I get more settled down (u know, having a family sort of stuff) be too hard on me? Would I be miserable or would it be a trade off... ) I wonder. I wonder what being married it like too. I know folks who move away and they do acknowledge the stress of not having family there - I feel like that old fashioned thing has some serious values to it.. but WOW... the amazing things you can do, and learn and experience when you're out there. I can only imagine. I've traveled just a bit... Israel, Mexico... USA... I love it. I always feel so grounded and comforted when I find my way home though.
I don't have the answer, honestly! God reveals.... I explore. God reveals. I'm excited, either way. Not that like, either way is happening just now, but you know. Even if, lets say it's just ME we're talking about - do I trek out into the world? No matter what I do need a solid community. I know that much!
It's just funny... to me. Even as a child I loved the idea of knowing that, due to being Jewish, no matter what, I can go there. I don't know why, as if I were going to need to flee the country or something. I just knew I liked that idea, that it had this appeal. I'd like to work that into something in my writing at some point. LOL... this little girl with visions of moving to Israel in her head - having no idea what that meant.
Oh, in random other news, I finally finished a book... I finished Traveling Mercies. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I tend to really drag out the books I like a lot, I just read them for the longest time so that they don't end... Maybe I should consider just reading them again :)
Have a goodnight... May your desires be Gods' desire.
Professor Maggie Hill
11/01/07
Fairy Tales in the Bronx
by Vanessa Douglas
Approach
Fairy tales are a part of most children’s bedtime or reading rituals but my Bronx high school students seem to exposed to them via Disney movies and cable TV. Unlike the rituals I grew up with - the evenings in bed, reading and listening to these stories which have permeated Western culture. My students’ saw or heard the same stories but they were delivered almost exclusively, it seems, via animated mice and talking dogs and television screen story times. In fact, I wasn’t sure how my students would respond to fairy tales, I had the feeling they would consider it “baby stuff” at first, but I wanted to reintroduce them anyhow, thinking perhaps they would find themselves looking at them afresh and appreciating them in a different way.
I wanted my students to listen and appreciate the tales, then either discuss or write responses to the stories. One idea I had was to find very uncommon tales and have a storytelling time to listen to them, then offer them time to respond. Another idea I had was to read the original versions of more commonly known tales, but to give the students an opportunity to learn the background and possible hidden meanings of these seemingly-innocent stories. I would spend the first day introducing fairy tales, making sure to mention their origins in adult storytelling rather than being meant for children. Next they would respond with the text somehow and interact with it. Some of my classes would write updated versions of the fairy tales changing their setting to the boogie down Bronx, Yet others would participate in a simple discussion and summaries.
Execution
“Oh no! This is baby stuff.” My worst fears had already come true, 2nd period and I had one student complaining loud and clear. Then again, this child always complains about most anything that crosses his path so I took it with a grain of salt. Later that day, as my 11th grade self contained students filed in I had them write down the fairy tales they could recall. They remembered Sleeping Beauty, The Three Little Pigs and Snow White. “Just turn on the Disney channel, Miss.” One girl said to me.
“No, see the real story behind fairy tales is that they were designed for adults. Adults told the stories for fun and passed them on. Eventually somehow they began to be told as children's stories, however, they are rather creepy and have a lot of disturbing elements if you look more closely at the story lines! Now, good to know is that this story is actually an 8th grade level vocabulary. The RCT tests you are taking are on an 8-9th grade level, so this is a good story to check that you know the meaning of all of the words before advancing to more difficult texts. Now, for today’s work.” I introduced them to their activities. One group would be writing compositions, because they were working on reinforcing essay writing skills. The other group would focus on reading comprehension and discussion skills. Now, in my other classes the emphasis is less on testing so I decided to allow them to write a reinterpretation of a fairy tale or classic children’s story.
The students were given a copy of “Little Red Riding Hood” and read the story independently. After reading they had a chance to write or discuss the story. Their responses were interesting. One of them found an interpretation guide on Wikipedia that was certainly interesting though perhaps beyond their grade level as far as appropriateness! It mentioned the various theories regarding what the story’s elements symbolize, including everything from the female menstruation cycle of reproduction to sexual awakening and the practice of prostitution! As one boy said “Wait! This shouldn’t be in here.” But hey, it pulled the in just a little more than usual. After skimming the sheet of interpretations the reading students had a short discussion about their own interpretations of the story. The writing students began compositions in which they updated a fairy tale of their choice.
While some of the students have clearly caught on to the idea of story reinterpretations, others fell to the wayside. On reflection I wish I had obtained a copy of a modern or comically rewritten book of fairy tales, to show the students how it can be done effectively and show them how enjoyable writing and rewriting classic tales can be. I think they would have more easily understood the idea of interacting and reinterpreting the text if we had more variety in the materials. There are movies as well, such as “Enchanted” that transplant a fairy tale character into today’s world.
Student Response & Conclusions
My students responded as always with humor. One sophomore boy responded by creating a book entitled, Crack-head Riding Hood. One of my juniors began to re-create the Three Little Pigs story, using new materials for the pigs homes. Still another student asked me to write what he said, since his writing is so behind his thoughts. He dictated the following and I typed it on the computer:
“Little Red Riding Hood's mother send Little Red Riding Hood to give a sandwich and a big soda to her grandmother and a donut, secretly with magic spell so she can become immortal.
Next, Little Red Riding Hood is walking through the woods. Suddenly, this elephant tells her
"Hey, how you doin' what a nice day to eat red things."
"Yes, I'm taking this lovely donut and sandwich to my grandma."
"Okay, I'll see you later now." He says.
I thought he was funny and highly imaginative. On day two when I read the students the classic “Rumplestiltskin” I realized how keen his listening skills were and how closely he paid attention to things in an auditory way. He needed that auditory learning element to stay engaged because the physical action of writing at this point slows him down so much he can’t stand it. He begins to find distractions and becomes distracting himself. So in his response to Rumple, he summarized the story and began to respond by dictating his own updated story to me. He placed the story in his own neighborhood among wannabe gangsters who are harassing a girl, who needs the help of a creepy little man. He was going too fast for me and our dialogue reminded me of how real the disability aspect is. He seems sharper when he’s just listening and speaking, he said himself “Miss! Thats just it, I have lots of ideas all the time but it’s so slow writing them down!” after I complained he was going too fast for me.
One ninth period sophomore class had initially reacted with disdain at the idea of studying fairy tales. However a number of the students were entirely engaged and absorbed in their writing. They wrote about horror movie actors, they enlisted me as a character and invented new characters such as Snow White and her Seven Monkeys. There was a lot of creativity involved. This particular class had the chance to hear a less known fairy tale, “THe Goose Girl,” which turned out to be full of twists and darkness and all sorts of symbols and very strange evens. Its’ gruesome ending finally unravelled and as I looked around at the room, the students’ who had been listening were hanging. I wish I had anticipated this! I wasn’t sure what to do. I asked them to write whatever they wanted. Two of the girls wrote about how crazy the story was and how it made them want to listen to more stories. “We can’t write now, Miss! My heads’ all over the place now!”
Looking back on how things progressed I wish I had taken more time to gather resources and texts for the students to explore. I’d like to have a classic children's story library, from the public library or elsewhere. Then they could explore stories in different forms, versions, maybe even languages. They could see illustrated versions, and there is something nice about holding a book in your hands and reading from it. A variety of texts aimed at various age groups might have been helpful in having material all levels of students could read aloud, and also offered a better sense of the variety of the interpretations and version of fairy tales out there. As I continue I want to engage the students with the oral tradition the stories have come from via reading aloud and teaching them more about how to read expressively, since that’s a struggle for many of them.
life, images, visions
dancing, praying, singing into tomorrow
God on my side, who can be against?
1) my 5th period (DIFFICULT CROWD!) actually LIKED my lesson today
- they had to either... lol. read a fairy tale and discuss which interpretation they agreed with the most (i quickly found soemthing on wikipedia - remind me never to do that again without proofing more closely, because it was waaay sexual and racy lol though there were many big words to make it a bit confusing)... apparently Little Red Riding Hood has many interpretions involving prostitution, menstruation, sexual awakening
so I could tell the kids were reading the story by their puzzled silence or outbursts of laughter from time to time
another group of students had to write a creative composition updating a fairy tale to create a 2007 version of it... so they began working with stories they knew... all to work on reading skills for the one group, who has to take a reading test next, and a writing test... so it was very clear that there was a purpose and i think all the sexual inuendo and stuff helped keep them somewhat interested. i gotta be more careful though!!!
-soooo i was on like, my teacher version of cloud nine after that! i even asked them "rate today's class, give it a grade" and they, the kids who tear me new one every chance they get, tell me when i'm confusing, dis me to my face , ugh - but today, they said almost unanimously "A!" and totally made my day. they were super cute about it. so we DONT hate each other. and i would think they were just trying to suck up, except for the fact they are not suck ups. lol. they are like, "i don't give a sh&% what you think" gang of ball busters...
2) i'm finally getting baptized later today. like... in 10 hours or something. i'm excited. so thats it!!! goodnight * smiles *
tonight... anyway. God's got it.
so tonight i was looking for an innocent distraction... i walked into FYE and found the used-movie-cheap-repackaged movie section... and browsed for a while... and after a few minutes i realized the used-cheap-repackaged-movies section was beside the tv-on-dvd section... and... it caught my eye.
i got home and talked to Matt while he was getting together dinner before leaving... and it was nice, i've seen him more lately, i like feeling like i actually have a roommate.
so after he left, i went to the supermarket and walked in circles for a while, finally locating everything i needed for the perfect stay-in-dinner for tonight. i bought gnocchi, tomato sauce... local-grown-organic-spring-mix which supports not only my healthy immune system but also children and local charity programs... hmm... i mean who knew, lettuce could accomplish so much.
back at home i didn't travel back in time, but back in high school i idolized Angela. the protagonist in My So Called Life. i was a literate, smart, self-obsessed, shy-ish, repressed sort of teen. i didn't have friends like RayAnne Graff to push and pull me out of my shell.
i could relate to Angela's obsessing, her crush on this guy Jordan... whose "shoulder she almost touched during a pop quiz..."
she says...part of his sleeve was touching my arm, i don't know if he knew. goodness... i mean i was so the kid who noticed those things, someone putting an arm around me was like, a HUGE deal because... i suppose because i am soo physical. i crave that touch, so at the time... it was such a big deal to break through that invisible barrier that seemed to be there. maybe... well i know that physical intimacy is basically one of the most intoxicating things on earth but i wonder if we weren't such an oversexed culture, if there might have been a chance to just grow to be an affectionate person rather than so... timid and held back. i am still quite held back in some ways. i guess i feel like if there's something that you want, isn't it sort of self-defeating not to show it?
"whats amazing is when you can feel your life going somewhere, like your life just began to get good, like, that second."
i wanted to be able to say that about my life. i began going somewhere, i began moving along - but it didn't really get like, seriously good, until more recently...
what i find so interesting is that sense though, that here i am over ten years later and this show still taps into something about who i am. but i unwound. i did all the teenage stuff. only i did it well into my twenties. i guess you might say i'm a little immature for my age. haha. i think after 21 or 22 that just stops mattering. you're just mature or immature, in my humble opinion... but here i am now, and i still find this fascinating but i know myself so much better now. i'm so much more of who i wanted to be, back then. i can see the things i was so obsessed with in this new light. i wanted best friends, so, so much. i wanted to belong, even if that meant belonging to a little group of misfits and getting myself in trouble. i just wanted to feel alive and like i was in this thing together - i think thats why theatre appealed to me. though i didn't feel like i was really part of the group in the theatre projects i worked on...
i finally felt like that in Gravity, and Mike Couzzo was my Jordan Catalano, and it didn't really work out.
one funny thing, too is the absence of technology in the show. it's the mid 90's, no one at the internet or cell phones. the phones still have cords on them. hilarious, actually.
anyway... thats the rough draft post of the night. sayonara. My So Called Life marathon at my house. :)
they crop up on roads along anonymous pathways
through holy land
known to the locals
they can take shape as beach bars, dessert stands
some sell beans as large as your palm
this particular booth
sold delicate desserts tinted with green and doused in rose water
smooth and creamy, almost floating in this gelatinous glass of a flavor i'd never tasted before soft and sweet
green crumbles atopping the smooth creamy main course
i didn't actually like the dessert much
just nipped at it and smiled
sitting atop a car seat
amputated from it's associated car
black skies soaring overhead
my companion laughing with the man selling the goods
catching up on who knows what
my ears catching only the useless linking words, the "and"
and "cool" and "please" and "true thats" of the Hebrew tongue
my hand held in his under the sodium-tinted lights
warm and balmy air breezing past
Israel must be seen with the locals
from evening drives with the windows down and the Sabbath radio programs turned up loud
from Russian 24/7 supermarkets, breaking the mold of the Jewish laws... to provide convenience
from roadside dessert stands with truck tire tables and automobile seating... vats of sweets and savories for sale... fruit stands and cotton fields, beaches lined with families and children
In the last few years I learned so many painful things
I learned that I am capable of lying
I am forgiven all of these things yet
humbled by my capability for them
I am capable of adultery
I am capable of turning on myself in so many ways
I don't even want to get into it all here
First times and trysts and traveling stories galore, thank God for saving me from myself.
The easy path to insanity, to a family raised alone, to being the other woman, to Aaliyah for all the wrong reasons, marriage to a criminal... the easy path to a life of craziness and pain - well I was on it. The wide path to self indulgence and stunted emotional growth, to spiritual disconnection and branding by the world all over my heart and soul... I was there. I was branded. I was wondering and wandering whether or not I'd ever put my faith in a man who loved me so purely... a kiss would not be enough to destroy that love.
As a young believer, I often lay in bed and cried.
Eventually my whisper became an intimate, "hold me, God."
He did. I have no other explanation for the abiding comfort I felt... I had grown so used to sharing a bed... I literally said... Jesus, just be here with me. Help me sleep.
and I slept. waking up the next day a little closer to Him each time. I'm glad ... deep down below the current frustrations, I know that's where I am right now. whispering, just hold me, Jesus, just stay close and help me rest. Be my comfort.
I wake up now speaking softly, laughing conspiratorially through the day, asking the Holy Spirit to guide and help me, just help me, help me teach something, help me learn - help me be, and be real...
Some days I feel it and some days I don't. Today I knew but I didn't feel - I complained a bit, I got the job done and I wonder right now, with the hours to sleep ticking away, no work done in sight - and I wonder to myself... what now. What do I do with this, 7.5 hours left to sleep and all I want to do it stay up and write poetry - and stop this poem from disintegrating into garbled prose and self-referential nonsense as it seems to be right now.. with typos too.
The important thing is...
I'm tired, but He's going to carry me. I'm frustrated at work and He's teaching me how to walk forward, how to walk humbly... I'm broken and He's building me. I'm lonely and He's giving me just what I need... He's showing me where I am holding the fridge door open when I need to open His word... He's showing me where I want to revel in an emotional rather than direct my energy toward His truth... He's my centrifugal force... my encounter on the highway... my light. This might have been a better poem if it had stopped about twenty lines back - but what's a rough draft without some tripe to edit later ;)
Goodnight.
wow, lots of interest, hmm.
last night, turkey-day-eve i'm home in NJ and jesse (my brother) plays me the preview...
"the author is amazing... this movie looks really good. let's see it tonight."
"hmm."
"do you want to?"
"no, not really. it looks... i mean, it looks good in a way but it looks... "
"evil."
"right."
something like that, was our conversation. i suggested "enchanted"
"I think it's actually the exact opposite as far as content and aesthetic" we laughed.
* * *
flash forward, the day that has come to be known as "Black Friday" began with sleeping in... till 9:30... i woke up to my mom using her wacky exercise ab-lounge, which squeeks terrifically. she turned on TPN or whatever that Christian Praise Television netwrk is (i just honestly don't remember it's name, not hating). TBN? Trinity Broadcasting Network, that's it. we listened to jon hagee's ministry, quite a megachurch he's got there. we eventually began talking over him, and when the two gentleman who follow his program began some discussion - i finally asked her to change the channel or turn it off... basically my mom leaves TBN on in between to sort of fill the air, until the progams she likes come on. marilyn and sara are a mother & daughter ministry team who she and i like, they have a heart for the nations and for young people, which is actually really inspiring and sweet.
mom gets ready to head out for the day, she's downstairs gathering her things for work and i hear her sort of bickering with grandma. our grandmother is 84, growing more senile by the day. we love her. she's like a naughty, impatient child much of the time though - which i could see being draining. she's much sweeter to guests. i'm almost on guest-status now. so while my mom was getting pressured to help her search out this thing my grandmother wanted to use - my mom grew agitated and came upstairs flustered.
"what, are you going to work? " my grandmother called after her -
"yes! i am, i'm ten minutes late - "
"oh, i didn't realize."
my mom was annoyed, rushed-
"vanessa will help you!" she yelled downstairs, turning to me "can you go help her find whatever this thing is-"
"sure, can i go in a few minutes? this movie ends in 15 minutes."
"gram is pretty impatient." hmm. well... i can try.
"GRANDMA!!!!!!.... " no answer... "GRANDMA!!!!!"
"yes? what?"
"I CAN HELP YOU GET YOUR THING - BUT CAN YOU WAIT TEN MINUTES?"
"of course!" well that wasn't so bad.
i watch the end of "Crazy/Beautiful..." give my mom a compliment and hug her ... she heads out and i head downstairs to grandma's half of the house.
"What I need, it's a plastic peice, it's called a Zits bath" does she mean Sits? Sitz? Szitz? I mentally try to spell it out. She directs me to her bathroom closet... It's got three sturdy shelves within it that would a few children on each. We tested it out as kids - climbing up the shelves, sitting in the closet. I used to shimmy up the sides to reach the high shelves and explore. "It ought to be back in that corner-" she gestures to the back, dark end behind a pile of sheets. "I can move the sheets, hold them if you need-"
"No no, it's okay. I can push around them." long story short I'm poking around towels and looking for this thing, this Sitz bath, whatever that is. There's all sorts of gross stuff in the closet and I'll skip the details - but prepare, because oh goodness.
"Well, you see sometimes I just have to douche. " I think I physically cringed and gagged a little. This can only get worse, coming from my grandmother, realizing I'm poking around in the bathroom closet for something needed - oh I try to stop thinking of why she may need this thing. Good Lord. "I need to find it so-"
"OKAY!!!! Okay Grandma, I don't need to know why, just let me know how I can help find your thing."
"Well it's a bath, a Zits bath, it fits over the toilet-"
"OKAY GRANDMA, so how can I HELP if we can't find it? There's nothing yellow or plastic in here?"
"Well, can we go to the drugstore and get a new one, I suppose you can go without me." oh joy. but really it's no big deal. "Okay grandma. So it's a "Zits bath? Sits? Something like that. "
"Yes, it's about $13. You know I really need it-" her voice drops an octave and I physically brace myself now that she's gradually telling me more unwelcome details than I ever wanted to know-" I've had some bleeding."
"OKAY! Okay Grandma, so you want me to buy a new one, that's fine. I don't need to hear more - so where do I go? It's okay. I just want to get what you need- that's all-"
It's as if she enjoys torturing me. "Yes, so I want to explore the cause, maybe I injured myself-"
"Okay so where do I GO???"
GoodNESS, am I this sqeamish? I shudder.
So I head out, buy grandma her thing, buy some craft supplies and go home.
* * *
starbucks & shopping with Emily
we shop the Dollar stores, buy wrapping and stickers for Christmas... catch up and talk. it's really good to see her. she's such a beautiful, cool girl. it sounds like new things on the horizon for her, too. which makes me happy to hear...
talk of more hanging out...
Jesse's at the movies and we determine I can make it to see No Country for Old Men in the 25 minutes till showtime -
* * *
we watch. there's someone disabled in the room who keeps making small outbursts. i find myself diverting my eyes from the attacks. this man , the central "villain" is just so terribly evil and principled and pathological... i can't stand men with bob haircuts, it seems like a symbol at this point for men who are disturbed. it reminds me of charlie & the chocolate factory with Depp playing Wonka... unstable to a new degree ...
anyway this story just lost me, not that I didn't understand it, I followed it, but I liked some of the characters, Llewellyn and the Sheriff - I enjoyed their characters' development... but I mean, I grew less and less engaged in what the story was about, this villain going after his money... and as Llewellyn fell apart it began to seem very pointless. I cringed at every blast he made to open a lock, cringed when he's appear in the frame with any other person, knowing at some point in the exchange someone would likely be killed, for convenience or on some twisted principle of connection... and when a principle seems lost, he forced the victim to call a coin toss...
the closing scene ended and the lights rose in the theatre.
"so did you like it?" we both looks at each other. "difficult question, right."
we imagined it was a much more enjoyable book, with rich character development and great descriptiveness. it seemed as if the director had a rich palette of a text to work from... but i ended with a very very empty feeling, as if the violence was not worth it, all the cringing and closing my eyes (once upon a time i was NOT like this)... it was just... such extreme... pathology... and determination to keep going with this madness, that the main guy persevered... with broken bones, with gun shot wounds... he just kept going and made things work for himself... lunatic with determination..
but I didn't care what happened. I didn't care about him, I don't want to ruin the ending for anyone but whenever anything really lousy happened to him I had a little "cheer" go up inside, like "that that!"
there were just so, so many people dead. the ending was just anti climactic and odd to me... so unsatisfying. leave it to the Coen brothers for such an unconventional story line...
i haven't read any of the reviews, this is just my unadulterated opinion... why did it get a critical rave review? i suppose... what they did with this film, they did with great skill... they drew you in to the characters and the story was sort of... almost just an afterthought maybe. Toward the end if felt disjointed and I wasn't even sure what the point was, the money and all the struggle, I didn't even realize who GOT this money... but... i suppose that was really the thrust of the film. simply the development of the three main protagonists, Llew Moss, the Sheriff Bell, and Chigurr, the maniac... some films lately seem to be very very atmospheric, like Lost in Translation, which also had a less than traditional plot... and Marie Antoinette, even... atmosphere... but less story... this was Characters developing in a setting, with much less emphasis on the story than many more conventional films get by with...
* * *
i felt as if i were being followed out to my car and as i drove i felt a slight paranoia. jesse and I both related having very serious moods wash over us for a while after the film... he called from barnes and noble in eash brunswick - and i was at a clothing store, on my way to the barnes and noble in *NORTH* brunswick...
i found a series of books that seem like they would tie into my upcoming work... perhaps. i have these ideas... inspired by the "shakespeare manga" books i saw - manga classics... like manga-aesops fables.... manga-classic-childrens stories... ??? maybe... i saw a beautiful collection of illustrated fables...
This morning began with my student, M, a freshman of mine... being really irritable. The only thing it was sort of like, justifiably irritable, and I knew it but I was doing the teacher thing, and I realized that I needed to just say I was sorry. It's very much a relationship and I think at times I'm not really treating my kids with the respect they deserve, like giving hem more credit. They are authentically annoyed, these kids I have in the morning are generally good. Michael's been annoyed almost every day since September but sometimes are evidently worse than others. Well today a couple reasons came out.
He was irritated at me, and clumped me in with the other teachers he feel like play like a broken record... He wouldn't take off his hoodie, like many students he doesn't follow the dress code and wear a sweater to school. I could HEAR the principal next door and I tried to say something to him numerous times. When she comes in and makes the order he finally relents - but also says, angrily how other kids get away with it. Then the real problem comes out - He got jumped yesterday after school. He just started venting. He got jumped by some kid downstairs. He doesn't want to come to this school any more. He's getting harassed. They choked him and tried to get his wallet and PSP from him.... He hates this school... I felt really bad. I said I was sorry he went through that. He was told to file a report.
When she left he went off. File a report? No, he did that through middle school and nothing ever happened. Nothing ever happens. Nothing changes. His mother won't even come to the school to see it. His mother won't get him a sweater, she didn't even want to sign a paper for him... He complains about food, about school... He's struggling to find anything he likes. He gets excited about parties. Drinking. Drugs. He gets animated recounting weekends, games, tournaments he plays... he's a sorta cool, sorta dorky, 14/15 yr old kid who basically wants things to be a little more "normal" a little more "stable" and basically a little more SAFE. He's pissed off that it's not. There's very little he can do about it. I had been sitting at the table with the kids, admonishing, teaching, showing them the preview of the mid term I made... Listening tot he other side of our fake wall to hear whose there...
Throughout the day, things were pretty easy going. Fifth period was super small,4 of the kids came. N asked if he could eat one of this three little PB&J sandwiches. I said, at first, basically "NO" then I said to myself, Vanessa, you need to be less of a hardass already. Strict, no nonsense, one thing. hardass, unaware of whats really going on in my room, another thing.
So we compromised, I said, okay, you can have three bites, get a little something in your stomach and then put the food away. So he did. Got down to work. It was beautiful. He shows me his work, it's decent... If I could get things to where I want them I feel like things could be so good. I'm honestly frustrated right now, I have a picture in my head and I need help getting it together. The kids need to be doing different work, they need different groups.... They need to feel safe at whatever they are working on. I want to get there. I'm frustrated, tired, stretched, unprepared.
Now... How funny is God.
Tonight Benson at City Lights, preached about how unpreparation leads to failure - preparation builds to success, to biblical dominion, in his explanation.... I wish I could explain more fully.. but I'm BEAT.... Then it was just like, something broke out in the room. Our church seems to get a case of tears or a case of the giggles some days, some people are crying, some are laughing and it always seems like something pretty deep is stirring around... the worship was awesome and I had my colleague with me from FLAGS which was cool, at the same time, I never brought someone from work to church before. It made me a lil self conscious... like. .. I work with this guy... uhm... so... he said it was awesome., came out to eat over at Maracas on the west side... and... it was fun - talking to Madalina on the ride home was so nice, too. she's so sweet.... okay. .goodonight!!!
on blogger.com
trying out a new blog site. however. loading pictures has been troublesome. not sure i'm going to stick with it.
not sure how that old weird picture of Jesse got in there! he set up my Mac and took some weird photobooth pics before handing it over to me.... the others... are from today.
things of the dead
there are only a handful of dead people in my life
my aunt judith, "aunt judy!!!" who was my blonde, piano-playing mischievously beautiful aunt
when she'd visit she made me feel so special and pretty
me, this tom-boy long-legged little girl, on roller skates with baloney-curls
she was the crazy aunt who had calmed down
addicted to drugs
brainwashed by a cult
rescued and brought back to life
reluctantly
she only wanted to have a child
and once she did, she was struck dead in a car accident
my little brother has her initials
he was 6 months old when she was killed in a head on collision
her 3 yr old little boy had a broken leg and missed his mom
she was replaced by evil nannies and an inheritance
i was upset at the funeral, all 6 years old
sitting in the car my mom asked me
why are you crying?
"because, this touched my heart"
was how i knew to express when something
my great grandma anna
was a sweet old woman
my great grandfather
sent me cards for my birthday
he bought from the visiting stationary people at the nursing home
always remembered
when he died i cried and cried
we went to the funeral
this one always gets me
this young man at agape, my mom's church in rahway nj
played the drums for years
tall lanky build
smiling face, big eyes, dark skin
he'd married recently and within a year, out on the court throwing the ball around
a heart attack struck his 28 year old heart and he died
28, like me. you just can't tell.
i still look for him when i visit -then remember
though i also realize that God has us in His grip
and those who know and love Him, stay with Him
my grandfather
David
I still see him through the years
his drunk-humor
his cane
we'd pick him up from his walk around the neighborhood
he'd quip and say he was fine, he was just "walking between the raindrops"
hundreds of stories and songs from his days in the air force
my mother bought a recorder to save them for my kids, for us to remember but he had none of that -
"oh no! when i die it all goes with me!" he wouldn't tape a thing
he burnt boxes rather than recycle
with sprinklings of gasoline and lighter fluid at the ready
grandpa David
eventually diabetes took half his leg - though none of his spirit, he was a fighter till the end
though in deep pain and under much medication
his last years were troubling - ageism is insidious
the young have more respect, more attention than the old
hospitals' neglectful treatment cost him body parts
amputations
we didn't trust anyone within those walls, nothing they said seemed reliable, trust worthy, their hands didn't always relieve harm meanwhile
Jesus hanging on a cross in every room
