A Day In The Journey

Alrighty. Finally, Day 5. Sheesh. I do apologize, my readers, for taking such a long, drawn-out time to write this chronicle. I have only the excuse of feeling uninspired to write on which to fall back, and it is a sorry excuse, indeed.

At any rate, day 5 began with packing and checking out of the hotel. Bittersweet, it definitely was. This is a city that captures you and a country that woos. We left our luggage at the hotel desk and proceeded to Trafalgar Square. Our day was to begin with a visit to the National Gallery, apparently.(I'll be totally honest: my entire memory of this timeline is weirdly messed up. I am told, and it makes logical sense to me, though, that this is, in fact, what happened. For some reason, I have never been able to place the NG visit into Sunday. My timeline is contaminated. haha) First, a stop at Pret for an early lunch to be eaten on the square while watching the crowds. This involved watching a rather intrepid pair of girls try to touch the bottom of the fountain without falling in or getting their sleeves wet. They also enjoyed a moderately illicit walk along the fountain wall--quite the balancing of it all. The National Gallery could have used a few more hours of exploration. The rooms were massive and filled with some truly amazing pieces. Pleasantly, the walls were often painted in colors to complement the art so carefully arranged on them. The incredible range of art that I was able to see on this trip was really breathtaking. Artists and pieces I had not yet had the pleasure to enjoy were beautifully complemented by paintings I had studied and taught about but had never thought to actually see. I love that. (It's also why I would love to revisit the Metropolitan in NYC--there just wasn't enough time....) This was a time when I was grateful to have a companion to keep me from spending the entire day in one museum, though. After all, the Tower awaited. Honestly, if I were to describe my walk through the gallery, it would just a be a catalog of paintings, etc.; therefore, I will merely mention something I inadvertently learned through my experience there and move one. As a teacher of World Literature, I should have already known this, nevertheless I did learn this: it is quite the disservice both to your story and to your audience to attempt to tell a story of a Old Testament hero while diminishing the concept of the Hebrew hero, ordained and empowered by God. *Sigh* It just doesn't work quite right. It's like trying to describe a Greek tragedy while minimizing the hubris of the hero. Ah well. Lesson learned and noted for the next time.

Now we moved on to grab some yummy lunch goodies (well, second lunch--that probably makes it technically "tea" haha) and to Bank station. Exiting Bank station brought us to the heart of The City and a very powerful corner in the landscape of London: here stands Mansion House, the official residence of the Lord Mayor of London, the Bank of England building, and The Royal Exchange, now a shopping center (keeping things strictly in the realm of the financial, after all. haha). I would like to mention at this point that the last two days we were in London, we consistently ran into this purple t-shirted school group from the continent. Seriously. Everywhere we went they were either arriving or leaving. We even rode in the same underground cars with them once. It was very odd. Certainly, they never realized, but it felt moderately like stalking. It was also highly hilarious. I mention it here because I distinctly remember them gathered about on the plaza in front of The Royal Exchange eating lunch. It's making me laugh again just thinking about it. The Royal Exchange, by the way, was founded in 1565. This is the second building as the first was burned in the Great Fire. The Bank of England is relatively young, not having been established until 1694, and the Mansion House wasn't built until the first half of the Eighteenth Century, thus both were spared the ravages of the fire. From there, we passed down King William St. to find the Monument. And here I offer praise, yet again, to Sir Christopher Wren. It may be an unsophisticated way to say it, but this guy was all win. The Monument is 202 feet tall and stands exactly 202 ft. from the bakery on Pudding Lane where the Great Fire of 1666 began. The fire spread rapidly, burned for three days, and although the death toll is officially believed to be only eight, destroyed 436 acres of the city. This section of land contained not only the major financial buildings and the original St. Paul's Cathedral, it also contained an estimated 13,000 homes which resulted in the homelessness of an estimated 7/8s of the population of the time (a great number of them poor tenement dwellers). The fire was certainly an event with long to be felt repercussions. The Monument is quite fitting (have I mentioned Sir Christopher was a genius, yet?): a tall doric column with golden torch-flame adorning the top. Still distinctive even in the modern, skyscraper-filled city.

From The Monument, we ventured down along the Thames to the Tower of London. We stopped for a nice little picnic in front of an office building and then off to view history and destruction. Really, it says so very much that despite only intending to stay there for a couple of hours and then make our way to Harrod's or the Natural History Museum, we were there for four and a half hours. It is a really amazing place. Viewing the developing of British history and the monarchy through the growth and evolution of the Tower complex is fascinating. Also, there were super cool weapons. And when I say, "super cool," I mean a collection of some of the oldest, most unique, and most beautiful weapons and suits of armor I have ever seen. The history of the Tower as a prison is both fascinating and heart-wrenching. Carefully carved graffiti in the walls gives testimony to the dark history of religious persecution of which the Tower was a part. Then, of course, the Crown Jewels. Now, I do have to say that it was moderately hilarious to me that you were smoothly ushered past the collection of Crown Jewels on a conveyor belt. Ok, a "moving sidewalk." That was interesting. I will admit to blatantly walking briskly back up the conveyor (with a partner in crime--I was not the only bender-of-rules) to have a second whisk past the truly stunning array of priceless royal accessories. It's honestly the kind of thing that is almost incomprehensible. So many, many priceless stones in one place; such a collection of skillful workmanship and unimaginable wealth. Amazing. And then there are coronation robes encrusted with diamonds and embroidered with gold. At some point, you stop trying to absorb it and just gape. Really. It's one place I'm glad you can't take pictures as I'm absolutely certain the pictures would only be disappointing; that they could never capture what you see when you are conveyed along past the glass cases. The Tower is most definitely a worthwhile way to spend an afternoon.

Following the trip through the Tower, dinner was grabbed (really good pizza) at The Dickens Inn. (Yes, that was a passive voice sentence.) Then, pictures at and a walk across the Tower Bridge (Famous bridge checklist: Brooklyn--check; Westminster--half check; Millennium--check; SF Bay--no check. Ok. The last on is unrealistic. Moving on.) and down Tooley Street to the London Bridge station, and an attempt to wander through Harrod's. This attempt was to result in failure, however, as our prolonged (and worthwhile) meander through the Tower had put us into the early evening. ON a Sunday in Britain, that means no shops for you! Instead, there was a lovely walk and conversation through Knightsbridge and Kensington Palace Gardens. All too soon, we were trudging about through Paddington station, and I was bidding Phillip goodbye. Thing I learned at that moment: when you spend five days with a good friend, you get used to them. Realizing that you won't have said friend around the next day is a very odd feeling. I scrounged up a bed at London Central Hostel (really neat building, really Londonish ambience inside) and about 6 hours or sleep. In the morning, it was back to Paddington (why yes, it is the place where Paddington Bear was found by his nice family) and then on to Heathrow. And then, hours of fun flight back to the US.

For the record, going through Customs at an airport that is not your final destination is un-fun. Why there isn't a way to proceed from Customs to the terminal without going through security, I don't know, but there isn't. It's blargh. Also, Newark Airport is an interesting experience. It was fun to add a new airport to my list, though, for what that's worth. Also, being surrounded by American accents again was a really strange feeling. Also, the flight from Newark to Houston was absolutely freezing. Freezing. And no blankets as it wasn't a trans-Atlantic flight. About half-way through, the lady next to me looks over and says, "Are you freezing, too? Is it just incredibly cold in here?" To which I heartily agreed. I slept all the way from Houston the New Orleans (the jet lag and return to sleep schedule was way more brutal returning than going), but still managed to notice the middle-aged guy across the aisle slid his iPod between his legs to hide it rather than turn it off when we were told to turn off our electronic devices and that he had his music up so loudly I could hear it over my own music. Good job, grown up; good job. At any rate, I arrived to the sweltering heat and humidity (a good 30º warmer than the city I left), gathered my bags, and pondered how I was going to find my parents sans phone. We managed to connect just about the point when I was about to get rid of my pull-over in favor of just my tank. I definitely was missing the weather already. haha. Weather aside, I was now basically home, safe and sound, remarkable journey ended. That sentence sounds as bittersweet as I felt. It was quite a trip, and one I'm decidedly glad I made.

Photos of my last day in London

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Saturday dawned bright and early, and yet we did not. haha. Saturday was to be another late-morning start, but no mind: this was an architecture and absorption day. Exiting at Charing Cross, we made our way down the Strand. Our goal was to see the Royal Courts of Justice and the Temple. We ended up being partially thwarted in our design, but that is far a later part of this blog.

Walking down the Strand, we passed a few landmarks of note. The first was the Savoy, a 120 year old Edwardian and Deco hotel known for its luxury. This was a partial success: we were able to glimpse inside, but not able to go in as the hotel has been closed for reconstruction. It's set to open in October, to much aplomb, I'm sure. At any rate, I did wish that I could have seen the interior as the glimpses I got were stunning. Another time. Further down the block is King's College. Notable alumni of King's College: Desmond Tutu, John Keats, Thomas Hardy, Virginia Woolf, and numerous influential politicians and leaders, among others. Furthermore, the nursing school started by Florence Nightingale is a part of King's College. Across the street is Somerset House, a beautiful neo-Classical building used for both performing and stationary arts exhibits. Before long, we arrived at the Royal Courts, a building I would never have guessed to be the courthouse had I been guessing. The Victorian interpretation of Gothic architecture reminds one more of a church complex than a courthouse. It's very impressive, and I would have enjoyed going inside, but we were thwarted by the early closing down of all things legal on a Saturday.

Continue reading "oh the establishments of time, civilization, and toys" »

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Day three was going to be busy. I awoke super excited about one of the plans: seeing the Scottish Play at the Globe. *excited giggle* The day would be filled with other fun and exciting things, though. We started mid-morning (The rather late night on Thursday did not lend itself to early rising. haha) We began at the Old Street station which had a rather interesting, spread out exit situation due to the rather spread large traffic circle situated above. A few blocks down Old Street (And past the only gas station I noticed while in London), and we arrived at De Santis, an amazing Italian place, for some carry-out. (I will take a moment here to meet a comment I feel coming already: technically, I should've written "petrol station" and "take-away." :-P) This section of town felt rather suburban, actually. It was really the only section of London that felt particularly that way in all the days I was there--or at least like the typical American mid-city suburb. I suppose the presence of the gas station helped with that perception. Previously, I had only seen gas stations on the motorways, and then I'm sure I saw less than 5. At any rate, after gathering our to-be-eaten lovely carry-out, we traveled down the street and around the corner to Smithfield Market, London's largest and oldest meat market. Due to the sleeping in a bit, the market was done for business that day, yet, it was quite impressive. I failed to take any pictures, however, a fact I blame on the container of pasta I was holding at the time. :-) The Market is very large and very sophisticated, really. The Victorian design details are almost unexpected on such a pragmatically used building.

Continue reading "an architect, a playwright, and even more art" »

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After my introduction to London Landmarks, Inc., it was time for a little something with more local flavor. I would like to insert here that the Oyster card system is much more confusing for guests than the MetroCard of NYC. Let me explain: the MetroCard offers the lovely option of buying a week's worth of unlimited travel, regardless of where in the city you travel, including on buses. All bus trips and subway trips cost the same (except for express buses which cost a little more). So, even if you decided on a pay-as-you-go card, the fare deductions are fairly simple. Fares in London aren't nearly so simple. Like a toll road, fares vary based on what zones you travel through: more zones mean higher fare. Now, a Day Travelcard is offered. But trying to figure out whether it's cheaper to pay for a Travelcard or just load money on an Oyster card gets complicated since it all depends on where you might be going and how many trips you might be taking. Granted, there is also a daily fare cap that kicks in on the Oyster card to try and prevent users from spending more than they would with a Travelcard. But again, the fare cap varies based on the zones you travel through as you make your many Underground trips. So...complicated. In the end, for the sake of simplicity and on the rather vague recommendation of a Transit worker, I went with a regular old Oyster card. I will say the top-up system is very smooth and pleasant to use. Following the purchase of a card and addition of monies to said card, we headed northeast to Camden Town.

Continue reading "a day of art and markets" »

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Arriving in London, I headed toward the hotel to drop off my bags as it was too early to actually check in. My meeting with Phillip was delayed due to his over-sleeping, but I managed to entertain myself by walking around Notting Hill until his train arrived at Paddington. Afternoon number one began with a walk through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. Kensington Palace itself is rather forbidding. Made entirely of red brick, it rather reminded me of large, industry-magnate estate home in the northeast, or of the buildings in Williamsburg, VA. Next to the palace are two items of interest: the Orangery and the Round Pond, a man-made pond filled with water fowl and surrounded by relaxing Londoners. But back to the Orangery for a moment. This is a lovely, very swanky restaurant. The customers were very obviously quite financially comfortable, even well-off; however, I had to laugh when I noticed two very large Golden Retrievers flopped under a table inside the building at which was sitting a rather well-to-do middle-aged couple. The other man-made water feature of the park is the Serpentine, a 28 acre Lake/River that spans both Kensington and Hyde Park. At the head of the Serpentine is the Italian Garden, a lovely sculptured area of statuary and fountains. The most beautiful and compelling of all the fountains in the park, though, is the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain. Alas, I completely failed to take a picture of it. Of course, the only way to really experience it is to be there. The fountain is a sort of abstract mobius that flows up and down the hill on which it rests. It also holds a small, medium-depth pool at the top. "Why," you ask, "does it contain a pool?" Very simply because the fountain is open for public enjoyment. Really. You can take off your shoes and wade your way around it. It was fantastic. I also blame my absolute wonder and enjoyment at wading through the fountain on the fact that I didn't take a picture. haha. Again, what I found interesting was how much of both Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park is manicured. That said, I was delighted to find some "ok, well, we'll let this part grow a bit wild for you" places within the Park. It really is quite an interestingly aesthetic place. (random factoid: Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park together are just about 200 acres smaller than Central Park in NYC.)

Continue reading "parks and gardens and landmarks galore" »

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I arrived at the Oxford station mid afternoon to discover something quite helpful: the YHA is right next to the station! Of course, that meant train noise at night, but by that point of the trip I was pretty resilient when it came to noise at night and open windows. haha. It also meant that finding/getting to the YHA was quite simple. The Oxford YHA was quite nice, as well (though some kitchen items, like the electric kettle, did need some cleaning.). After checking in and getting some necessary banking done to prepare for London, I went out to find the city center and the information office. Oxford is a very busy, very pretty, very college town. I believe I mentioned in the Leicester post how I was surprised at how it didn't feel like a college town. Oxford definitely does. Now, don't get me wrong, it feels very Ivy League, but it is definitely a town dominated by the presence of the university. This is too be expected based on the history of influence and autonomy that Oxford had on the area, its economy, and its politics. At any rate, I wandered about a bit, acquired a map and some pamphlets, found a grocery, and eventually headed back to the hostel in time to make some food, have a cup of tea, and catch the World Cup game. Since the nice television is in the lobby, there were a number of people (quite diverse people, actually) watching the game. Before bed that night, I took out my map of Oxford and plotted the next day's course. My goal, as mentioned in my last journal was to photograph as many of Oxford's colleges as I could. Ambitious, I know.

Continue reading ""i wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember"" »

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I left Plymouth greatly looking forward to my two full days in Salcombe. Unfortunately, I was to face unexpected obstacles before finally getting to rest. Getting to Salcombe was a little more involved than my previous trips had been. I began by taking the train from Plymouth to Totnes. From Totnes, I would take a bus to Kingsbridge and then another to Salcombe. The schedule was tight, with only minutes between each change. Fortunately, I caught the bus at the Totnes station right on time. In fact, I had just walked off the stairs and stepped into the parking lot when the bus pulled up. At Kingsbridge, I had about 10 minutes in between arrival and departure which enabled me to take a quick breath and relax...for a minute or two. haha. The bus trips were really quite nice and the scenery very beautiful. Riding through the Devon countryside is a lovely experience.

Continue reading "and then there were...cliff roads" »

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From Bristol, I made my way to Plymouth. I left the train station and passed through the city center on my way to the hostel. Following the signs for "The Hoe" (the section of town where it was located) I soon found the street where it was supposed to be. The problem occurred for me because whoever numbered the streets was...well...insane? Rather than the numbers going uniformly from lower to higher from one end of the street to the other with odds on one side and evens on the other, I discovered (about 25 minutes after I started) that the numbers went up one side of the street and back down the other. And to top it off, they were divided into sections: one section on one side of the park and one on the other. Thus, when I arrived at Citadel road, I started by going to the right. The number for which I was looking was 172. As I walk down the street, I check the numbers and see it going from 166 then a few buildings and 162. Logically, I assume this must mean the higher numbers are on the other side of the park. I turn around and walk back the way I came, continuing on down this side of the road. When I get to the other side, I see the numbers: 201, 202, 203. What on earth? Where on earth is this place? Growing slightly frustrated, I decided to retrace my steps. What else was I going to do? I check the other side of the street as well since I've now decided that logic must have abandoned whoever numbered the street. Sure enough I realize what's been done: the numbers start on the west end of the north side of the road, go up to the park and then continue up the south side of the same section of the road. The portion of the road east of the park is a completely different section of numbers. Because that makes sense. At any rate, I finally found the hostel and rang the bell (the door was electronically locked). Finally, the door was opened, and I was able to drop off my bags and go explore.

Continue reading ""So they lefte that goodly and pleasante citie, which had been ther resting place near 12. years"" »

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I can't say too much about Bristol since I ended up spending the majority of my time in Bath (about which I will ramble on in a bit). I did find myself surrounded by a sense, that I never did shake, that it's a city about which no one really cares. I felt that way almost as soon as I stepped out of the station. This was the first time I walked out of a train station to see several abandoned buildings in a row. Of course, I had passed a few abandoned buildings in Liverpool, but here they felt different. Here they felt somehow dead, as though the buildings themselves had given up hope. And while Liverpool abounded a sense of pride and love for the city, Bristol felt like a city imbued with apathy. I didn't like it. Bristol is not a city in which I would like to live. I definitely preferred Liverpool.

Continue reading ""Bath is a charming place, sir; there are so many good shops here."" »

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I can honestly say that I was surprised by how much I liked Liverpool. Not that I thought I wouldn't like it, but I didn't expect to like it so much. Liverpool has a quality that is difficult to pinpoint (more on this later). I had quite a pleasant walk through it on my way to the hostel to drop off my bags.

First goal: to see the Metropolitan Cathedral. Now, I will admit that seeing the outside was not all that inspiring at first. I stood for awhile looking at the modernistic structure wondering how the inside of this was going to work. In the foyer, a history of the development of the cathedral gives some insight into the various stages of design and development. Basically, the first several designs were nothing like what was eventually built. Still skeptical, I stepped inside. I found myself absolutely astounded by the completely non-traditional beauty that overwhelmed me. This cathedral, more than any other I have seen, was designed for light. Without the typical nave, quire, and apse structure, the cathdedral is able to give full play to significant amounts of light that stream through the stained glass that surrounds the building. The most spectacular use of stained glass occurs in the representation of the Trinity in the tower, but the rest of the walls are laced with glasswork of incredibly beauty. True, the building and its iconography are still modern and so not to everyone's taste, but I found it at turns solid and delicate, and truly lovely.

Continue reading "we all live in a yellow submarine..." »

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I don't have a whole lot to say about Newcastle upon Tyne, really. It was pleasant, but didn't offer too much in the way of things to explore or examine. If I had more time/a car, I could see the Newcastle would be a good base for treks about Hadrian's Wall. As it was, though, I enjoyed my day in Newcastle, but the only real thing that I was able to explore was the Great North Museum. That said, the Great North Museum was very interesting. There is an excellent overview of the cultural histories of the area, of the construction and society surrounding Hadrian's Wall, and the animal life in the area. Since I was largely unfamiliar with the flora and fauna of the area (weasels are much smaller than I had imagined), this was pretty intriguing. I did meet a girl and her dad who had cycled across from the east coast. He was a British immigrant to Canada and she (born and raised in Canada) had been transferred to Bristol for her job. They were both kind and interesting, and I had a nice tea, dinner, and breakfast with them. Jen also offered to meet me for a drink or dinner in Bristol, but I didn't take her up on the offer due to my utter and complete exhaustion by the time I got there. haha. At any rate, my moderately uninteresting day in Newcastle was certainly made up for by my exquisite two days in Keswick.

Continue reading "my heart leaps up" »

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Edinburgh is full of win. This, I must say, was my favorite stop (excluding London from all rating systems since...well, it's London). I found Edinburgh to be interesting and really lovely. My first stop after arriving at Waverly Station was the Tourist Information Center to grab a map and get directions to the YHA. Ok. Actually, my first stop ended up being waylaid to a Victoria Jackson makeup promo table in the shopping center that I ended up traipsing through because the tourist info sign was misleading. After I brushed that off to the disappointment of the lovely girl trying to sell me £120 of makeup products for the unbelievable special deal of £30, (It really was a great deal, but I couldn't see spending £30 on makeup right then.) I made it to the Info Center, enjoyed some random Scottish piping and dancing, and withdrew money from the nearby ATM. At this point, I learned something very interesting: in Scotland, each bank prints their own notes; therefore, you could any combination of very different looking notes because they are issued by different banks. Let me tell you, it gave me a second's panic when I was standing in line and realized the £5 note the guy in front of me was holding was completely different from the one I was holding. It also made receiving change fun, though, as I got to look and see the different designs and banks. Very strange experience, that. Well, I checked into the YHA, dumped Superduffle, and proceeded to explore. I meandered through Princes Street Garden for awhile, which was lovely. It wasn't always so lovely, though. Before there was Princes Street Garden, there was
Nor Loch. Nor Loch had become basically a cesspool thanks to centuries of sewage draining down the hill from Old Town, so it was drained. In the 1820s, Princes Street Gardens was built, followed 20 years later by the addition of Waverly Station. The gardens are beautifully manicured and quite peaceful.

Continue reading "on the bonny, bonny banks of...Princes Street Gardens" »

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My excursion to Kendal actually took place between Manchester and York, but the entry was unfinished earlier. There you go.

Spent the day wandering around Kendal. Seriously, I am at rather a loss to explain the incredible beauty the surrounds this town. Even in the misty rain, it was stunning. Trekked up to the Castle Howe where the first castle at Kendal was built. Only the walls and embankments are left on the Howe, but it's easy to see why it was chosen. The spot provides a clear view of all the surrounding countryside. After this, I trekked around to the remains of Kendal Castle. This required quite the haul up a rather high hill. I mean really high. And wet. Had I not already been fairly damp, I would have crossed over into dampness during the uphill trek. At any rate, the remains and the view were quite impressive. Basically, it was a walled fortress that contained a manor house, cellars, small armory, tower to house the noble family, and the yard. It was probably built in the 12th century. From what was left, it was easy to see that this would have been fairly impressive sitting atop its hill. Eventually I trekked back down to wander about the town and its surroundings. I wanted to go to the museum there, but apparently it's not open on Tuesdays. Ah well. I satisfied my with visiting the Museum of Lakeland Life and Industry. This turned out to be more interesting than I expected, actually, featuring some really fun walk-through displays of different parts/places in Kendal's history. I also visited the Holy Trinity Parish Church there which was both very old and very lovely. Eventually, I took my damp self back to the hostel to dry off and charge various batteries. Not long after I returned, my two charming roommates also returned and invited me to dinner with them. I accepted, and we had a lovely evening. They were both British which led to some fun comparing and contrasting. I caught up on my internets and went to sleep fully intent on getting up, showering, and having a nice breakfast before departing on the train. As it turns out, if you have the volume turned down on your iPod, you can't hear the alarm. I woke up in tome to get up, dress, and just make the train. No shower or breakfast for me. Not as much fun as my intended morning. Nevertheless, I made the train and departed for York.

Photos of Kendal

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Arrived in York around the same time as a group of bus tourists. That was interesting as they all seem (groups of bus tourists, that is) to do a fantastic job of filling up the sidewalk and walking slowly whilst also milling about vaguely. I, on the other hand was trying to find the info center and shortly thereafter the youth hostel so as to drop off Superduffle and then enjoy the town. Thus, I was fighting significant feelings of impatience regarding the bus tourists. Haha. At any rate, I did manage to get to the youth hostel in a fairly timely manner (it was a small trek, really.), leave Superduffle, and carry on with my visit. My first stop was a sandwich shop for a really nice (and two-meal sized) club sandwich. After this nice little lunch, I proceeded to the York Minster. This is an incredible bit of architecture. The largest minster in England, it dominates the town. Inside, one can wander for hours enjoying the incredible craftsmanship and detailed beauty. Even better (you get two awesomes for the price of one, there), underneathe the Minster is a history of the site with bits of the original Roman basillica visible.I found it all to be quite well done and very interesting. Then, I meandered down to Clifford's Tower, but wasn't really interested in paying the fee to see the interior. I did take a picture of it, though. I had a lovely stroll down the river and then found my way to Jorvik. Now, Jorvik was the Viking settlement in York after the Romans. In fact, though I don't remember reading it anywhere, etymologically, I'm fairly certain that York derives its name from Jorvik, rather than the Roman name which was Eboracum. It was slightly pricey to get in (£8,95...and this after I paid about that much to get inti the Minster...not as much as I would eventually pay to get into Edinburgh Castle, though.), but it was a really neat experience. The trip begins with a small waiting room that's plexiglass floor is suspended over a mock archaelogical dig. It can be a little disconcerting to walk on it, but it's really well thought out. The walls contain short videos and digital "posters" that explain the history of the dig as well as the history and setting of the site that has been extrapolated from the artifacts unearthed. Now came the part that I wasn't expecting at all (yes, I did read up on Jorvik before going, but nothing really mentioned this part): a ride in moving carriage deallies through a model portion of the village. It was quite well executed with background sounds, narration the interacted with several of the animatronic Vikings, and well designed models that captured well the sights, sounds, and even smells of a Viking town. After the ride potion ended, there were sever areas to walk through filled with not only artifacts from the dig, but also contextual settings for them and sometimes explainations of the archeologists' work. I was really drawn in to the history involved added to the history I had gleaned at the Minster. York is reall a fascinating place. I almost went on a ghost tour, but decided I had probably spent enough money in one town already. Haha. York was more tourist-filled than any town I'd yet been to, even more than either Kendal or Nottingham, but it was quite lovely, nevertheless, and I could see spending several days there, especially considering the thing in the surrounding areas of Yorkshire that I was unable to see.

Photos from York

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Manchester is undeniably an industrial town. It's all heavy stone and hard edges. I set out a little early and headed towards the town hall. Manchester's town hall is, it turns out, a famous piece of architectural standing by Alfred Waterhouse. It is, indeed, very impressive. It's a pretty impressive edifice, really. Since it was a bank holiday, though, I did not get to tour the inside. For those of you who are wondering, bank holidays are basically just regularly scheduled national holidays for which they failed to come up with significance, so they just called them "bank holidays" which worked because banks were closed for them. Museums are generally open on bank holidays, though, which was good for me. First, I made my way to the Museum of Science and Industry. This museum demonstrates and chronicles the history of Manchester and the rise of industry there. Of particular interest: a floor of working cotton refining and weaving equipment, a walk-through timeline of the city, and an underground timeline of the development of water and sewer systems. There is also a room of engine development history from hydraulics to steam to diesel. A short walk across the road brings you to the section devoted to vehicles. I found the building far more intriguing that the contents. That's no real fault of the Museum, though but rather a result of having been to the Naval Air Museum and the Smithsonian. And, granted, aerospace industry isn't really what Manchester is all about.

Continue reading "Manchester: more than a football team. Really." »

Posted by Renee at 01:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Nottingham. Nottingham is, or at least seems, larger and busier than Leicester. We drove through just in time to catch everyone heading out for a night on the town, apparently the thing to do. Phillip's aunt and uncle live in a lovely neighborhood near Sherwood Forest. And by lovely, I mean filled with large, stately houses that are alarm-secured and worth far more than their US counterparts merely by value of age. Here I will note that both of the houses in which I stayed were very much everything I anticipated British houses to be like. They felt British on the inside in the same way a beach condo feels like a beach condo, if that makes sense. At any rate, the family were all astonishingly polite and very nice. Now, I definitely felt the difference when it comes to politeness. Realize this is coming from someone reared in the Deep South. Politeness is different here, though. It's all much more formalized, habitual, and almost deferential. A single sales transaction can lead to three or four "thank yous"--from the clerk. Oddly though, no one says "Bless you," when you sneeze and children all say, "Yeah" rather than "yes," something my mother would have given me grief for as a child. Haha. In addition to "thank you," proper polite responses might be "brilliant," "cheers," or "lovely." It does lead me to wonder what feelings are really rumbling behind all the politeness at times. Of course, I wonder that about Southerners from time to time, as well. I haven't yet discovered if there's a UK version of "Bless your heart." haha.

Continue reading "in Sherwood Forest there are bandits" »

Posted by Renee at 12:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

First weekend. So the British Museum is vast. That's really the only way to describe it. As in "I spent over five hours in this place and just realized I haven't seen an entire wing of it" vast. I was astonished, and it was right up my alley. It's something like a cross between the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Smithsonian with extra added awesome. I do have pictures, and I will upload and post them soon. I rather wish I could attach my camera cable to my iPod. Alas, I cannot. It was quite an intense experience for this museum nerd, seeing things like an Easter Island moai, a part of a stele with Hammurabi's Code, part of the Epic of Gilgamesh (!!), and the actual-honest-to-goodness Rosetta Stone. That's right folks: the Rosetta Stone. Apparently, the benefits of effectively owning big chunks of the globe means you get the cool toys for your museums.

Continue reading "dipping my toes in a little" »

Posted by Renee at 01:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

All right. Here goes the account of my journey thus far. I will try to be orderly and work through in a mostly chronological manner excepting a brief (sort of) notation of things similar and different that I have noticed. That part should largely work itself, though, I would expect. And now, off we go!

I packed almost nothing until Wednesday afternoon and evening. I also overpacked. Sigh. I suppose this being my first really major (longer than a week and a half) trip and first trip to a completely new place, that's understandable. Now that I'm in the midst, though, I realize I could've easily honed my inclusions enough to fit into my usual little green suitcase instead of this big wheelie duffle. Ah well. Thursday, Mom drove me to the airport as I pondered everything, hoping I had all I needed and regretting my inability to pack. At the airport, I checked in and got to use my passport for the first time. Awesome. After the hour flight to Houston (because of course it makes sense to go west in order to travel east...), I proceeded to my next gate following my typical proceedure of checking every single display to make sure I end up at the right gate. I did find the gate. I also discovered that it's good to read the whole gate display as I learned about 10 minutes after I arrived that I was supposed to verify my passport at the desk. No harm no foul, though, and I was soon all set to board my flight for London.

I found myself seated next to a lovely Scottish lady. She and her husband were returning to Scotland from Houston where their daughter and son-in-law live. We had a very pleasant chat and then I settled back to enjoy my choice of movie from the seat back: Sherlock Holmes. In all, despite my best intentions, I may have managed two hours sleep spread throughout the flight. This made things fun. Haha. After a fun three or four loops around, we landed at Heathrow, and I proceeded through Customs, retrieved Superduffle, figured out the trains, and proceeded into London.

Once there, I spent an undue amount of time wandering and wasting time, largely because I am a silly goose. We'll largely skip that part. Haha. I did also discover that not only am I bad at packing only what's needed, I'm bad at arranging it as well, the result being several pitched battles between me and Superduffle before I managed to overcome my silly goosery and find the Left Luggage service that I needed. At that point, I was able to proceed luggage-free to the British National Museum for the large part of the day. And with that, I offer an intermission.

Posted by Renee at 05:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

For the record, I haven't forgotten about blogging this trip. I'll get some thing posted for sure whilst I'm in Edinburgh in the next few days. Suffice it to say, I'm rather enjoying myself. Haha

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Wednesday in Austin was mainly spent outside. Therefore, only a little text and even more pictures for today's entry. :-)

I began my day at the Mayfield Park and Gardens. The gardens are simply lovely and populated by a flock of peafowl. This added an interesting element to exploring the park trails surrounding the cottage and gardens. Hearing the cry of a peacock as you walk through the woods is an odd experience. Although a sign does ask visitors to refrain from shooting photos within the garden walls (thus robbing me of the ability to take a picture of the rather bizarre sight of an entire flock of peafowl roosting in the upper branches of an oak tree), I did sneak a few pictures of some flowers.

Continue reading "austin! adventures! and home!" »

Posted by Renee at 09:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, definitely didn't get a post up yesterday, so here's two days in one! It's a bargain deal! And with your bargain post you get more pictures than words! (I'm pretty sure I've worded-out my readers recently anyway. haha)

And now: Two for the price of one!

Continue reading "...can't you tell, this is Austin..." »

Posted by Renee at 09:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

But I just gotta say...Austin deserves this spot for a few days.

Yes, I know. But I really wanted to do it. hahaha So rather than stay at home for all of Easter Break, I'm spending a few days in Austin. The drive was...long. Actually, not all of it was long. It was actually a very nice drive, even though between Beaumont and Houston is just oh so boring. Houston itself just sprawls out forever, it seems. After about 30 minutes, you start to wonder if there actually is a boundary to Houston, or if it has somehow taken over all of southwest Texas in the night. Also, once you get to Houston you begin to see a trademark of Texas in general: flags. Seriously. Not just any flags, either, but the largest flags possible to be flown are generally flown. It's both awesome and slightly bonkers at the same time. Not only that, but if you see a super huge American flag, about 85% of the time it will be accompanied by an equally super huge Texas flag. I've seen more Texas state flags in the past two days than I think I've ever seen of my own state flag. It's kind of amazing.

After arriving yesterday, I spent some time catching up with my friend, then I had to roust out an Apple store. The reason for this was my complete ineptness at managing to grab my power cable when I grabbed my laptop. Yes. This mistake turned out to be more costly than I would have liked, but now I have a backup cable. Awesome. Since I was out, I decided to drive around downtown a little. This turned out to be moderately exciting due to the fact that it was dark. And I had really no idea where I was going, GPS notwithstanding. Fun touch: Marge has a British accent. Quite fun.

Today we went to church here. Humorous aside: my church in BR is also Crossroads Community Church. Weird. In the afternoon, we went to Zilker Botanical Gardens. It was quite a lovely walk, although more people-filled than I would usually like for such an excursion due to the Zilker Garden Festival that was happening. At any rate, the weather was perfect and the gardens a beautiful and calming way to spend the afternoon.

Tomorrow: downtown is to be tackled.

Posted by Renee at 07:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I think the fear of nationalized health care is not so much a decrease in life expectancy but an increase in inefficiency. I think the other concern is the wait time for things that doctors deem a non-emergency that COULD be an emergency, leading to a poorer quality of care. Then there's the whole argument I've heard about nationalized health care bloating the national debt...

And dude, the New Yorker articles ARE loooooooooooong.

This comment brought up some things that I would like to deal with in a longer manner than I could in a responding comment, so here goes:

Continue reading "the realm of Asclepios: comment response" »

Posted by Renee at 09:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

Previous entries summary in 3...2...1...

I covered these two premises: 1) receiving health care is not an inalienable right, 2) it is not the designated role of government to run health care. Regarding the first, I explained here and here that whether or not receiving health or having affordable health coverage is an inalienable right, it is best for society as a whole to pursue the goal of ensuring that the highest number of Americans have access to affordable health coverage and available health care. I pointed out that in other areas (namely education), it has been long understood that it an item not seen as an inalienable right of humans is nevertheless viewed as a beneficial item to provide to as many people as possible. Regarding the second, I noted here and here that there are several (I outlined five in particular) areas where while it is not the designated role of government to involve itself, it is nevertheless positive and even necessary for it to become involved for the good of its citizenry.

Tackling the third premise, that this country would be not only ill-affected itself while also ill-affecting others were we to find ourselves in the midst of a limiting and narrowly run system: now!

Continue reading "the realm of Asclepios: part 3" »

Posted by Renee at 07:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

And now, for the second half of our show! It's a doozy!
*quick montage of public works pictures, interstate highways, the Transcontinental Railroad, elementary schools, universities, venture capitalists, and pharmaceutical labs....voiceover by Dennis Haysbert reminds us that we've covered areas wherein government involvement is positive and even necessary for facilitating simplicity of trade, bolstering private investment, and facilitating consistency of coverage/quality...and now reasons 4 and 5 in favor of government involvement in the private sector--*

4) Protecting consumers from faulty products
An area of deep importance to every American is the area of food and drug purity. The dawn of industrialism coupled with increased transportation options meant a great variety of new and helpful products such as packaged foods, canned goods, and medicines. Unfortunately, there was little to no regulation on these products at the local or federal levels. This resulted in adulterated food products, both foods that were diluted or polluted in order for manufacturers to get more money for less product and foods that were adulterated with toxic chemicals or heavy metals. (Notice that this penchant for adulterated foods and drugs occurred during the heydey of unrestrained capitalism. Market forces are not capable of controlling everything.) Of course, in any trade or buying scenario, the principle of caveat emptor, but reason suggests it is supremely unethical for a government to turn a blind eye to intentional food or drug adulteration. Even those skeptical of FG involvement in general understand that ensuring consumer protection from dangerous products is a social good. Particularly in the case of faulty food and drugs, it becomes important to have a strong set of consistent standards along with the means and wherewithal to enforce said standards. State governments do not have the resources, ability, or jurisdiction to accomplish this in a meaningful way. Roosevelt recognized this and passed the Pure Food and Drug Act in response. This became the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), the need for which has only grown as the market for processed foods, pharmaceuticals, and imported food and drugs has grown. A secondary example in this area is the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA). The role of the USDA is limited to agriculture, but it still provides consistent and resource-ready protection from faulty products. This protection, while not directly outlined in the Constitution, is a positive and necessary part of ethical and welfare-promoting government.

Continue reading "the realm of Asclepios: part 2b" »

Posted by Renee at 10:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

In our last episode: our fair authoress discussed the nature of health as or as not an inalienable right and then wrangled through the idea that even if something is not an inalienable right, it may still be something society as a whole is better off insuring as many people as possible. *cue snazzy intro music to this episode*

Having thoroughly discussed (to the tune of two lengthy bog posts) my first premise, I am now moving on to the second: it is not the designated role of government to run health care.

The argument that the federal government should not involved in any way, shape, or form in the health care market/system is often predicated on the point that providing for or over-seeing health care and health coverage is not one of the 18 Constitutionally designated roles of Congress--which get applied broadly to "federal government." (The fact that this stance ignores the very broad--purposefully so, I would submit--applications of "making all laws..." notwithstanding.) I would agree that health care is not a specifically designated role of Congress or the federal government as a whole (the FG). Like the premise that health care is not an inalienable right, this premise could be hotly debated. Also like the previous premise, whether it is true or not is no reason that Congress or the FG cannot or should not get involved in an area of commerce or industry. There are five main reasons I wish to address in which government (state and federal) involvement is a positive, and largely necessary thing:
1) to facilitate simplicity of trade
2) to bolster private investment in risky/capital heavy endeavors
3) to facilitate consistency of coverage or quality
4) to protect consumers from faulty products
5) to protect consumers from unscrupulous behavior

Continue reading "the realm of Asclepios: part 2a" »

Posted by Renee at 09:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

...continued from previous entry...

While the ability to receive health care may not be considered an inalienable right, I submit that it is greatly beneficial to our nation as a whole to insure that every citizen has access to health care. Furthermore, I deem it beneficial to insure that said access is affordable. I have noticed a break down of the debate around this point. I emphasize that access should be affordable for good reason. When it is noted that every American should have access to health care, the discussion becomes disingenuous. Those critical or skeptical of HCR that reply that every American does indeed have access to health care. This is true. Any and every American can find a clinic in their area or a hospital emergency room. A hospital emergency room is required to provide care regardless of ability to pay. Every American does have access to health care. But this response is disingenuous because that is not really the point being raised. True access to health care requires affordability. This is why I emphasized at the beginning the difference between health care and health coverage. When proponents of HCR contend that every American should have affordable access to health care, they are really contending that every American should have affordable health coverage. " Why should they?" you might ask. "If they can't afford insurance, who says they should have affordable access health care? Why is it better?" It is better for several reasons:

Continue reading "the realm of Asclepios: part 1b" »

Posted by Renee at 08:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm going to begin with a small disambiguation.
In these posts, I will refer to receiving medical care and treatment (eg: a doctor's visit) as health care. I will refer to means of paying for care (eg: insurance plans, Medicaid, etc.) as health coverage. The equivocation of these terms, to me, has contributed to both ignorance and willful misleading in this discussion.

As I mentioned in my last post, I began with three basic premises about health care that I believed necessitated a certain stance on the issue. Through my journey, I discovered that while my premises weren't necessarily false, I had made them more narrow than necessary. I had determined the end to which I thought they pointed without examining whether that application was indeed the only application.

I was going to attempt to deal with my first two premises at the same time, since they are applicationally related, but the post was long. Really long. Therefore, this post will simply deal with the idea that that receiving health care is not an inalienable right. This premise was my reason for determining that it was needless, and possibly dangerous, to force our current system of paying for/providing health coverage in order to insure that every citizen has health coverage or even health care. Now, many of my readers may agree with this premise, some may disagree. Whether or not you subscribe to this premise, my point is this: it is really a reason to walk away from the proposed models of health care reform (HCR), or even going so far as having a government-run, single-payer system. I will admit that I'm not convinced of the superiority of a single-payer system at this time, but I will note that holding to this premise does not make the a single-payer system illegitimate. At this point, you might be wondering how I justify this position. Well, here goes my explanation:

Continue reading "the realm of Asclepios: part 1a" »

Posted by Renee at 08:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, I suppose I'm going to be stirring the pot a bit after all. A friend (who has a thought provoking blog of her own here) mentioned that she was curious about my thoughts on health care reform, in particular the options currently in the media spotlight. So here goes. Of course, there must be the requisite disclaimers seeing that this is a rather more testy subject than it should be (really--I mean words like "death panels," "socialist," "weak," "Nazi," "Hitler," "end of America," "not good enough so we're all going to die miserably without care," "heartless," and "treacherous" are being used. It's a little overboard on both sides of the spectrum, and more vocally so, sadly to me, on the self-identified conservative side.) Therefore, I would like to mitigate an eruption of any kind not knowing who will read this.
1) I am merely pointing out the position to which I have come and how I have come there. Please do not assume or infer that I am stating everyone should hold to this opinion. I absolutely understand why those who oppose these approaches to health care reform (HCR) do oppose them. I just happen to disagree at this point for the reasons I will enumerate in subsequent posts.
2) It is perfectly acceptable to post comments of disagreement. I do expect decorum to be utilized which entails not using ad hominem attacks (which debate no point and merely result in devolution of argument and defeating discussion) while endeavoring to avoid merely parroting talking points rather than explaining the reason behind or application of the points.
3) I couldn't care less about anyones political labels of affiliations in any discussion. I care merely for the ideas they communicate. Thus, any use of "Well, that's because you're a _________________," or "Well, I'm a _________________, so I believe X." I don't care. The only relevant part to the discussion at this or any hand is the exchange of ideas not identification.

I hope I've covered everything. haha. If not, I retain the right to add to the list in the future.

Now. On to the topic at hand. I suppose the simplest way to explain my journey is to walk it again, but truncated. Trust me, you don't want to belabor your way through my hours of confused thought hashing. I began my journey with three main beliefs regarding health care: 1) receiving health care is not an inalienable right, 2) it is not the designated role of government to run health care, and 3) this country would be not only ill-affected itself while also ill-affecting others were we to find ourselves in the midst of a limiting and narrowly run system. I finished my journey still basically holding to those beliefs. You may find that surprising. The difference in my stance did not necessitate a change of those positions, you'll find. Nevertheless, I will address the second one with several examples to show that believing it is not the designated role of the government to do something is not the same as believing they should not do it.

When I began to ponder the bill, I was convinced that my three premises necessitated a stance against the bill. I had many concerns about the effects of the bill on individuals, health care providers, the economy, taxes, quality of care, and availability of care. I discovered fairly soon that in order to get counters to these concerns, I was going to need to branch out beyond my usual circle of information sources. To be honest, my usual circle of information sources weren't really disseminating or discussing information. I have sadly discovered that a great deal of vocal conservative reaction to these bills is, "This is socialism," "It's a big, fat tax!" and "Look at Medicare! Do we want government running health care?" Granted, there is some of that type from the other side: "If you're against health care reform, you're sentencing millions to death!" and "Insurance companies just want to rape and pillage for the bucks! Government cares enough to want people to live!" You get the idea. (I'll probably right a post about the incredible devolution of political debate in this country in the last few years, but it has to wait. I get too snarky about it currently.) At any rate, I branched out. I read a lot of statistics about health care and health coverage systems world-wide. I read a lot about national deficits, how they affect economies, and how much is too much. I read a lot about what the bills proposed, what they required, what they would change, and what they would cost. And I graded papers and did homework whilst all these things roiled around in my brain. I was really struggling to figure out what the bills were really about as well as how to align it with my political and ethical ideals.

Up to this point in the process I had one, and only one, sounding board: a British friend that I acquired over the summer. This had advantages and disadvantages: while he could ask the interesting questions, listen to my frustrated questions, and offer his perspective on the NHS (and a transient experience with ours via short personal experience and the anecdotes of meeting people as he traveled the US), he couldn't really offer the comparative analysis for which I was looking. Granted, what I really wanted (and would still like) is a side-by-side, comprehensive comparison of multiple aspect of our system, the Canadian system, the British NHS, and the anticipated results of these bills. I know, I know: my desires are extensive, which is why I have yet to realize them. haha. The greatest advantage here was having someone with which to discuss my thoughts. Unfortunately, too many of the people I know are either unable to discuss the issue for various reasons (no knowledge, confrontation-avoidance) or unwilling to engage outside of their ideological comfort zone. Ultimately, an even greater help was that he was able to steer me to those who could answer or at least address the main questions I was having.

Thus, I began working through my questions and concerns. To make it all short, what I intend to do is address my stance and its development through my three premises. I will also (probably when I address the role of government in the health care debate) address this rampant use of the word "socialism" in regards to any government move to subsidize coverage premiums or offer a so-called "public option." At any rate, this could be quite interesting or profoundly boring. Consider this point the "Intro." Get set for the coming parts.

Posted by Renee at 08:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I really would like to write something informative and thoughtful and to the point, but lately I'm finding that my reactions to things are just snarky and aggravated. Maybe it's the cold. Maybe it's the feeling that I've come to a place where I can voice some opinions with some and other opinions with others, but never al of my opinions to anyone without causing anger of aggravation or disappointment. And then I go to war with myself: the rebellious part of me really wants to post inflammatory things just to get a reaction that I can them mock with "See? I told you" sarcasm. The other part of me more realistically eschews beginning a debate that I will tire of and wish to just quit prematurely. And none of me really wants to deal with anyone else's preconceived notions at this moment. Don't get me wrong, I have preconceived notions, too. It's just that some days I don't mind taking them into account, and other days I just want to punch the wall. Ok. Maybe not punch the wall, but you do get the point. I'm fighting a certain level of misanthropy at the moment for completely unknown reasons. Although I suppose it all comes back to the fact that I feel as though I must divide myself in order to retain approval. Or at least, equilibrium, as I've already mentioned that I wouldn't mind really aggravating some people at the moment. I've never exactly understood my penchant for rebelling when considered in light of my nigh desperate desire for approval. Sigh. At any rate, I'll probably go on to include at least a minor rant in order to justify this wanton revelation of personal emotional status. I'm not sure which one I should include, though. I'll probably avoid it, though, since all the things I can manage to find words about are political. And I tend to try to avoid that particular teapot tempest around here.

Instead, I'll say this: I hate giving tests.

Seriously.

I haven't figured out, yet how to teach Language without them, but I hate them. I'm working on how to either get rid of them entirely or change the format of the ones I'm using to be more advantageous to my goals for my students. Perhaps I should specify more particularly the context in which I hate tests. I hate the Language tests that accompany this curriculum. I also don't like giving Language tests to elementary level students. At the high school level, I gave numerous tests to my Literature students, don't get me wrong; but I feel that tests, especially unit tests are of little use in an elementary Language classroom. And here's why, parts I and II.

I: Why I don't like the tests in this curriculum.
I dislike the tests in this curriculum for three reasons:
A) They are too spaced out, which means they end up weighing too heavily in the grading structure even with the weigh modifications I make. This also means that they cover a great deal of material. More on that in my third reason.
B) Many sections have multi-step instructions. While this may seem like a minor problem, for 5th grade students it isn't so minor. Especially when said students are tremendously concerned with making a good grade/not forgetting the information they need. So what happens it this: They read the first instruction, and eager to insure they manage it right, they move directly through the exercise completing step one. At this point, many of them might remember that there are more instructions. These students go back and read instruction 2. Again they immediately go through and just complete step two. The ones who felt a sense of completion after finishing step one have already gone on to the next section without realizing they missed an instruction. The students who did remember will usually complete step two, but rarely remember that there was a step three. To make it worse, these instructions are not divided up, they are in a single paragraph with numbers like this 1) placed before each step. I rarely used multistep instructions with high school students. Doing so with elementary students, who are just beginning to grasp critical thinking and application of processes, is really making things unnecessarily difficult.
C) While the units in the book are generally confined to small groups of skills (modifiers or punctuation use or prepositional phrases), the tests tend to be vaguely cumulative. If every lesson contained review skills, this would not be a problem. Instead, review skills are relegated to a couple of review pages at the end of the unit. During the unit they've been almost exclusively focused on a single skill or closely related group of skills. Now, I do review in class, but the written work does not typically contain review. 5th grade students are barely at a level where they are able to easily recall past information and apply it to a new set of circumstances (different sets of exercises). This is compounded by the relatively long length of time between the tests.

II: Why I hate tests in elementary curriculum in general:
Frankly, as noted above, elementary students aren't at a cognitive level to perform well on tests. They are also starting to develop a certain level of test stress that can impede strong performance. Like I've mentioned previously, I have tested and would test (were I still teaching at that level) high school students. The reason for the difference has much to do with the developmental difference between elementary and high school students. High school students have a deeper ability in test-taking situations to take acquired knowledge and apply it. Elementary school is where they need to develop this knowledge, and in my experience, this is better done through written work and quizzing rather than outright tests. I also find that parents tend to place far more weight than necessary on test grades, leading to teachers' tendency to review/put on the study guide problems that are identical to the test problems. I would far rather offer them multiple ways to learn/express the skill and give small, focused quizzes on that material. This would alleviate the stress of tests from students and parents while still allowing me to evaluate knowledge/skill acquisition. Tests just seem to create an atmosphere of higher stress and unreasonable expectations with little more benefit than other evaluative approaches at the elementary level. At any rate, that's where I've come to stand on the issue of tests in elementary curriculum. I think there are just better ways on a regular basis to achieve student evaluation.

Conclusion?
Having used several 5th grade grammar curricula, I feel this one's method of using tests is deeply flawed. A curriculum that I have used before and truly enjoyed pedagogically, reviewed all necessary skills almost every day and tested weekly or bi-weekly. Further, the tests were, in essence, just another worksheet page that happened to count as a test. This, in my experience, rendered a much better result: tests were less stressful and were a better representation of what the students actually grasped on a day-to-day basis. I have a feeling I'm going to be spending some time reconfiguring these tests and how they work in the curriculum. Right now, I feel like I'm handing a lot of my students a huge mountain to overcome two or three times a quarter. That's not really advantageous for them in showing what they know or for me in evaluating it. Tests have a place, but maybe not in the form with which we are familiar. The way they currently exist, I hate them. Time to re-evaluate, I suppose.

Posted by Renee at 08:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

**Continued from previous post...

When I mentioned this topic previously, I connected it in kind to the problem with adult inability to deal with unexpected or out-of-the-ordinary emotion in that it is a problem of rearing and education. In order to become adults who value the opportunity to personalize but do not require it, in fact, sacrifice that desire when it's for the best, children must be taught how. For example, I will give you a scenario: parent takes child into a fast-food restaurant and says, "You can have anything you'd like." This happens over and over until the child expects to get what they would like every time. There is no guidance to the child's decision, no instruction teaching them that their choice is a privilege to enjoy rather than right to demand in every circumstance. Now comes an instance when, for whatever reason, the child is unable to order whatever he wants. We all anticipate the result: an attitude, a tantrum. New scenario: a parent offers guided choices. "You may get a hamburger meal. What side would you like: apples or french fries? What drink would you like: lemon slice or iced tea?" On another day: "Today Mommy needs to choose. Let's get chicken fingers and apples, ok? I'll let you choose next time." On another day: "Today is special, you may order what you'd like from the menu as long as you get a sandwich or chicken with it." And so on, offering the child guided choices when appropriate. Now comes an instance when the child may not choose. I think we will all anticipate a much more pleasant response from this child. Child A has become a creature who expects every desire and whim to be fulfilled. Child B enjoys the personalization of his order, but understands that he can't always have what he wants.

(And I do not think this type of scenario is limited to a home experience. I believe there are numerous classrooms and curricular experiences that cater to children's whims and limit their experience to only what they know or want to know.)

The key here is that adults allow children the opportunity to choose while not indulging their selfishness. When we indulge a child's selfishness behind the justification that we want them to be happy, we actually set them up for discontent and unhappiness. A child reared to expect to have things exactly the way he likes every time will end up being a sorely disappointed adult when he discovers that rarely in life do things actually conform to our every personalized whim. Except of course, for my [redacted] sets of icons. :-P (I'll never divulge the information that hints at my selfish weakness for computer individuality. haha) The thing is, individuality can be an incredible strength. Americans revel in the freedom to be individual, to seek their individual well-being and happiness. This isn't a bad thing. We must, however, remember that the primary weakness of individuality is selfishness. Unchecked self-interest is not a good thing for an individual or for society. It is an incredible gift to be able to choose things that fit us, to have the options to listen to the music we like, to have the color car we enjoy, to choose from a plethora of desktop icons and wallpapers. The problem lies when we are unwilling to concede our desires for something better; when we fail to acknowledge that our ability to choose injures someone else; when our determination to have what we want becomes a selfish grasping, when our desires have devolved into petulant whims. Henry Ford is famous for saying, "Any customer can have a car painted any colour that he wants so long as it is black." Amazingly, he sold plenty of just, plain black Model T Fords. His customers knew that if they wanted his affordable, available automobile (alliteration unintentional) they would need to sacrifice their desire for individual color. I am skeptical that his car's colorful limitations would do so well in today's market. The viewpoint has changed. We've allowed our sense of and desire for individuality to become our excuse for self-service and selfishness. It isn't pretty. If we want to restore the nobility of the Individual, Rugged or otherwise, we must purpose to teach children the balance of desiring personalization and deferring to what's best, that using discretion in our choices sometimes means sacrificing our individual desires (particularly those of the whim strain) for what's best, that having a choice placed in boundaries for that best (eg. uniforms in school) is not a removal of some fundamental right to which they are entitled and can therefore express their discontent in any way they choose. When we expect every aspect of our life to fit our personalization plan, we have become petulant creatures of selfish whims. This is not the American spirit of individuality at all; it is something far uglier and even sinister.

This is a long post, and I failed to offer warning. I'm not even sure I managed to say everything I intended. haha. Perhaps that put some readers off. I feel it is important, though. If we wish others, those looking in on us, to see the nobility of the spirit of individuality rather than its pitfall vice, we must, as parents and educators, imbue upon children the understanding of discretion, of care for the best, of sacrificing selfishness for kindness. To me, a significant part of this process is teaching them how to handle their desires for personalization in their lives. The home and the classroom are excellent training grounds for this process. The Individual can be a noble figure when the Individual is taught to look out for his brethren even in the way he views personal choices.

Posted by Renee at 08:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Having allowed the following thoughts to carom around in my head for a couple of weeks (all the while shunting other thoughts around and through), I think I've formulated a post. haha. As I mentioned in the last post, I've been thinking about how we as Americans, as Westerners, too often find ourselves expecting to have things "personalized," and how our educational experience enhances or discourages this need to have every thing we own or do personalized. Now there are a couple of disclaimers that I must make before beginning:
1) I am only addressing this aspect of American life because it's the only culture with which I have personal experience. I suspect, by observation, that this need for personalization is present in other cultures (especially as it presents in multiple cultures here within the US regardless of cultural origin). However, I cannot speak to these cultures because I have only observed and not lived.
2) I am not here to decry all desiring to have things "your way." People are different from each other, have different likes/dislikes, and different senses of aesthetics. This post isn't about desire, it's about expectation. So please don't accuse me of trying to inflict sameness on the world. haha

So the reason this topic came to my mind was...myself. About four months ago, I bought a new MacBook to replace the iBook that was constantly full. 50G of space just isn't what it used to be. :-P As I pondered which to get and what to add to it, I was also pondering something else: Colorware. For those who don't know, Colorware provides a fantastic personalization service for the owners of certain electronics: they will take your product and custom-color it by applying a polymer-based coating. It's awesome. And $500. And yet, my desire to have a significantly unique MacBook found me with my mouse one click away from "Purchase." At which point I stopped myself. $500 dollars to give my lappy a custom color-coating when I could satisfy my need for a unique, personalized lappy with an amazing decal for a hundredth of the price? I did, however, discover another way to personalize my computer: one candybar purchase and [redacted] hours later, I have [redacted] sets of options with which to personalize every icon used by my computer. As the reality that I had spent [redacted] hours hunting down just the right icons for my lappy set in, I began to ponder the phenomenon of self-centeredness that seems to pervade society today. I have some ideas as to how it happened, mostly beginning with doting parenting, but nevertheless, we have a large group of people who do not merely desire to have things their way, but expect it. In fact, in some/many cases has become an extreme: my way, or else. These are the types who send back their hamburger because it came with pickles despite being ordered without when they could just take the pickles off. So the question becomes raised: Is the problem having the freedom to have things uber-personalized? I don't think that's the problem.

***To be continued in a second post...

*I mentioned some copywrighted and patented things up there. Those companies own that stuff, k? :-P

Posted by Renee at 01:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I should be grading right now. Instead I'm spending time dumping thoughts into a blue-ringed rectangle. Awesome. At any rate, there are two things caroming around in my head. That's your vocabulary word for the day: caroming. It means to collide and bounce away, like billiard balls. Aren't you glad to learn that? I'm sure you'll use it as soon as you can. :-D Both things deal with education and resulting human ability to respond. Doesn't that sound exciting.

The first thing has been on my mind for a few weeks. It started with a friend's tweet regarding the way some people responded to a rather horrific event and was further fueled by a similar reaction on the part of a television audience to an unexpected and serious admission. In both cases, the response was highly inappropriate: laughter. A knee-jerk reaction to these responses would understandably be, "What's wrong with people? How can they find this entertaining or humorous? They must be inhuman or completely base." I do not think this is the problem at all. Bear with me as a tell an illustrative story. Back in my college World Drama class, we viewed a recording of a college performance of Cyrano de Bergerac. The performance was really quite good, and the duo scene of Cyrano and Roxanne in the convent garden was quite moving and tragic. Near the end of the scene, Cyrano leans against a tree. Being a stage tree, this tree was equipped with wheels. Unfortunately, the stage hand who had placed the tree failed to lock said wheels causing the tree to move a visible distance when Cyrano leaned against it. The audience, in the midst of this tragic, heart-breaking scene, responded with laughter. My World Drama professor proceeded to lead the class in a discussion of how emotionally immature audiences (in this case, about 85% required-to-attend college students) will often react with laughter when they have no idea what else to do. In other words, when we as humans are met with something emotionally unexpected, something for which we are unprepared, something we don't know how to process properly, we laugh. It isn't that we lack compassion, empathy, or humanity. It is that we lack tools to appropriately process emotionally heavy or embarrassing moments. Like a horrific event caught on video. Or an unexpected admission of moral and ethical failure. So what does this have to do with education? This: as high school classes and curricula have moved toward factual coverage of large quantities of material and catering of said material to only the experiences of the students, we have moved away from teaching them to think critically and process their responses to things outside of their experiences. Granted, you cannot teach emotionally maturity; that takes time and experience to fully develop. You can, however, teach students (using subject material to do so) how to understand, relate, and respond to both ideas and emotional reactions. By teaching them to think and ponder, we give them the tools to aid their emotional development as well. We can expect teens and college students to respond bluntly and immaturely to emotions they don't understand how to process yet. Part of becoming an adult, however, is learning how to respond, or not respond, to overwhelming emotions. Properly constructing pedagogy is a part of that process. If we as educators, parents, and mentors are not teaching these things, we are failing the next generation, not just personally, but socially, culturally, and politically, as well.

The second point is not fully developed in my mind, yet. It concerns the way we as Americans, as Westerners, too often find ourselves expecting to have things "personalized," and how our educational experience enhances or discourages this need to have every thing we own or do personalized. It isn't ready for press, yet, though. Therefore, you may considered yourself teased. :-P

Posted by Renee at 07:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I invariably have a small amount of trouble teaching my students about objective case. I'm not sure why. It's pretty simple: when you use a pronoun as the object of a preposition, a direct object, or an indirect object, you use objective case. Apparently, this little nugget of grammar wisdom is skipped over too often, which is why people say things like, "Between you and I" (wrong), "My sister went to the mall with my mom and I" (also wrong), and "You are giving that to who?" (wrong, wrong again). There is a lovely little moment in The Office (US series) that deal with this controversy. I tried briefly to find the video clip, but YouTube is a vast marshland of video clipage through which I was unwilling to wade. Here, instead, is the text of the discussion:
Ryan: You know what I really want? What I really want is for you to know (the computer system) so you can communicate it to your people here, to your clients, to whomever ...
Michael: (Snort) OK.
Ryan: What?
Michael: It's whoever not whomever.
Ryan: It's whomever.
Michael: No. Whomever is actually never right.
Jim: Well, sometimes it's right.
Creed: Michael is right. It's a made-up word used to trick students.
Andy: No. Actually, whomever is the formal version of the word.
Oscar: Obviously, it's a real word, but I don't know when to use it correctly.
Michael (to camera): Not a native speaker.
Kevin: I know what's right. But I'm not going say, because you're all jerks who didn't come to see my band last night.
Ryan: Do you really know which one is correct?
Kevin: I don't know.
Pam: It's whom when it's the object of a sentence and who when it's the subject.
Phyllis: That sounds right.
Michael: Sounds right, but is it right?
Stanley: How did Ryan use it, as an object or a subject?
Ryan: As an object.
Kelly: Ryan used me as an object.
Stanley: Is he right about that ... ?
Toby: It was: Ryan wanted Michael, as the subject, to explain the computer system, the object, to whomever, meaning us, the indirect object, which is the correct usage of the word.

There you go. Short, simple, and sweet lesson in the use of objective case. So what brings this up in my blog today? This:

Now I realize the quality is rather awful as I was using my cell phone and had the setting such that I couldn't zoom. I apologize. The sticker says: Who freed who? Suddenly I understand why my students grapple with simple grammar concepts: adults surround them with ignorance. The end.

Now that I have that out of my system, on to other tidbits.
* I'm in the middle of Season 3 of Lost. I'm very, very confused and completely addicted.
* You shouldn't drive too fast in a raging downpour. This is not because of any visibility issues, mind you, but because water splashing up into your engine is a bad thing.
* The school where I teach uses ABeka for the main portion of the Reading program. We also supplement using the Houghton Mifflin Reading series because it involves more critical thinking skill development, and it's the curriculum the state schools use for Reading at the lower grades. Last year, because I was catching up with myself all year due to coming in at the beginning of the second quarter, I only used the parts of the HM workbooks that stood alone (ie, didn't require reading the selections from the HM readers). This year I started using the HM readers as well. They're really quite nice. The stories are engaging (albeit a little dated at times--a problem that's inherent in some ABeka stories as well, so no biggie), there are many pictures to aid in teaching predicting skills, and really excellent summary questions that include writing connections. I really wish I had been able to integrate this more into the curriculum last year. Of course, I did integrate other comprehension and critical thinking exercises. It will be much easier and better with this particular resource, though.
* Toe socks are fun.
* Funny story: Yesterday, I was bustling about the classroom as usual. I had finished the Language lesson and walked over to my desk, set down my Language book, and picked up my Spelling book. I then taught the Spelling lesson and the Reading lesson. About 25 minutes later, I walk to the door at the back of the classroom to line up the students to switch classes before PE. I can see my computer monitor and notice that my open document is currently scrolling up and up and up. I look at it for a moment and realize that it's been scrolling up and up and up for 25 minutes. I realize that when I set down my Language text, the corner of it had landed on the "Enter" key of the number pad. When all is said and done, I had a Word document that was 1497 pages long. Yes, 1497 pages. Needless to say, I went to the top, copied the two pages I was supposed to have into another document and just deleted that one. Hahaha. What a day!

I supposed that's plenty enough for now, all. Have a great weekend!

Posted by Renee at 03:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Some links:

timeline

names

first responders

memorial service 09

That is all.

Posted by Renee at 04:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Around this time of year (ie a week and a half before school starts), I begin trying desperately to avoid the final stages of school preparation. Mind you, it isn’t that I don’t have a moderately sick love of school things, or that I don’t appreciate the beauty of having well-done preparations. Rather it is my constant fault of getting to the 3/4 or 7/8 mark and being “done.” Surely my readers understand that feeling. It’s the one where you’ve been spring cleaning and you only have to beat out the rugs and mop the kitchen, but you have just reached your limit…you’re done. It’s the one where you’ve complete 5 hours of the 6 hour drive and you are beyond ready to have arrived…you’re done. This is where I find myself at this point in the approach to the school year: wanting to have the completed and beautifully organized lesson plans and preparations all finished, but no longer having the desire to finish them.

Typically, I reach this point and brace myself to soldier through. This year, however, I stumbled upon a better plan. More accurately, a friend slipped a thought into my brain, and I latched on. Rather than soldiering through, I should find some other person to complete my work for me. I should, in fact, capture an elf! Yes, the more I thought it through, the more it made sense. After all, elves do beautiful work. Their quality is unmatched; their ardour to complete a task unquenched. The idea of hiring one did, I will say, cross my mind, but was almost immediately stymied by the realization that elves do not typically advertise in the “job wanted” section of the newspaper. Furthermore, I suspected that money was not an object of their desire, and I could think of nothing that I possessed that elves might find a fit trade for their labour. No, no. The more I pondered the situation, the more I was left with only a single path: I must capture an elf if I wished to avoid my work.

The first question raised was, of course, what could I use to capture an elf? This proved to be problematic for my brain at that moment, so I pushed the question aside for later examination. Instead, I turned to the next question at hand: where to begin looking for my elf. Of course, it is common knowledge that the elven kind prefer greenery and poetic scenery, so I began my search in the gardens.

I looked into the rose vines first, thinking that although the blooms were spent, the nature of the rose would be attractive to the elves. Yet, I found none.

I turned next to some obliging daylilies.

Again, there was no elf to be found.

I checked among other flowers and plants that seemed conducive to housing or hiding elves.

I even ventured to look into a particularly intriguing tree.

Yet all my efforts were to no avail.

They pointed me in the direction of a clump of rushes near the pond.

Although I looked quite carefully, I still had not found my elf.

At this point, it began to rain, so I was forced to postpone my search for a time. The rain was lovely, and I crossed my fingers in the hope that it might cause the elves to venture out afterward in search of after-storm beauty.

I began poking around behind the back shed, but my search was abruptly halted by a canine constable who advised me that trespassing in the area of the shed was “highly discouraged.”

I obligingly removed my search to another location.

After having exhausted every place I thought likely to house an elf, I began to feel my quest a lost one. Out of places to check, I decided to sit by the pond and wait for inspiration.

It was lovely. Frogs were singing. Mist was rising from the pond. The sun began to set in rare form. I paused, contented, to watch for a moment.

As the stars, and the mosquitoes, began to come out, I decided I had better be content to abandon my quest and finish my work on my own. My grand scheme for capturing an elf and save myself some trouble had fallen to ruin around me as I had been completely unable to even find one. I suppose it was all good and well, however, since I had never quite figured out how I might capture one anyway had I managed to find it. “Perhaps another year will bring success,” I thought as I returned to the house and my laptop and my meticulously saved lesson plans.

Posted by Renee at 08:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

So the first week of school is down. Just about 35 left to go. haha It feels like it went really well. Such an interesting group of kids. Since I only teach Language Arts, the 5th graders switch classes between me and my team teacher. Last year, we just switched at lunch. This year is a little more complicated. Because my team teacher was averse to teaching Math (not that I blame her), the 6th grade Math teacher also teaches 5th grade Math. This means that both my homeroom and my team teacher's homeroom have to have Math in the morning, since the Math teacher only teaches half a day. The result is that we must switch classes for Math in the morning. So, I teach both sections of Language in the morning opposite of the Math class. Then, in the afternoon, we switch for Reading as well. I only teach one of the classes Spelling because of the craziness of the schedule. We are slowly rounding the edges off of all the switching. Once again, I'm fascinated by the difference between the two classes. There's always such a different chemistry or vibe or something with each class. It keeps me on my toes, I guess. haha

A couple of my students have already decided to try and fix me up. It occurred in this manner:
girl: so are you married, Ms. D?
me: i am not.
not-a-shy-bone boy: you should be; you're one gorgeous woman!

Next day:
not-shy boy: Ms. D, can I totally hook you up with a guy?
me: I don't know. It depends on your idea of taste.
not-shy boy: *gasp* Ms. D, I have awesome taste! You doubt me?

Yeah. It's amusing. It might become obnoxious, but we'll see. Students are awesome. Totally awesome.

In other news, two more grad classes are down. I'll be embarking on the next two beginning tomorrow. I suppose I could begin them today, but why? :-P

Working my way through season two of Lost. Oh man.

I also watched for the first time Bridget Jones's Diary and Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. I enjoyed them both. The first is moderately a girl movie. I found myself rather unempathetic to Bridget at times, but overall, I definitely got her. And the movie was quirky in the fun way. Nick and Nora is an odd little indie flavoured film with a fantastic soundtrack. It's unexpectedly laid back so the when you get to the end, it's just...there. You wait for the moment, and you smile when the pieces fit.

Well, off to input lesson plans. The previously promised fairy capture tale will be arriving as soon as I capture the final picture. So if you're waiting in anticipation, it won't be long. :-)

Posted by Renee at 02:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So I'm composing an entry that deals with capturing elves. Yes, I said "composing" and also "capturing elves." Deal with it. haha I need a single picture to complete the entry, but things keep preventing me from getting it. Argh. Therefore, I thought I would insert a small, middle-of-the-night, filler post to entertain everyone. Assuming anyone actually read this anymore. :-P

*I used part of my graduate loan to update my computer property to a new (almost triple the hd space) MacBook. I'm very happy with it, although I miss the compactness of the 12' iBook. The fact that this one is much lighter is a huge plus, though. Now, see, I actually have something tangible to pay off rather than mere classes with grades listed on Blackboard. haha

*School starts on Monday. I'm always nervous about the first day. I think it's going to be a great year, though. I met most of my students and parents today at orientation. It seems like a good group. Both groups have several more boys than girls, unlike last year where both classes were almost evenly split. It will be interesting to see how that works out for the group dynamic.

*The air conditioning has been broken in my class room the last two weeks while I've been getting things ready. It has been beyond bearable. It should be fixed tomorrow, though.

*Tomorrow has turned into cram day for both of my second term summer courses. I don't think I've had a last-day cram session so far into this degree, though, so it's time. Big, sarcastic "yay."

*I do not ever wish to be a school administrator or have anything to do with finance. Thanks.

That's probably enough filler for anyone's taste. I'll end this, then. With hope, there will be a much more entertaining post in the next few days. Until then.

Posted by Renee at 11:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The days of my summer vacation are growing less and less. My summer has been pretty fantastic and fairly dark and largely enjoyed. I do not feel completely ready for school. At any rate, it makes me glad that next summer I will not have classes competing with planning time as the summer draws to its inevitable close. Alas. Haha. So, some thoughts and journey markers for this month-ish:

*Watching old black and white science fiction movies is a fantastic way to spend time. Earth vs. the Flying Saucers is my latest discovery. I can’t even remember where I read or heard about it, but I do remember that the description hastened me to add it to my Netflix queue. It was totally worth the add. Something that sets these old, special-effects light films apart is the focus on what the characters are experiencing. The shock and struggle of the story becomes something very personal. This was one thing I appreciated about the story change for the most recent War of the Worlds film. Instead of being just a big action-fest, it offered you characters with whom to feel. At any rate, these old b&w movies might have moderately negligible “special effects,” but you tend to thrill with the scientist, soldiers, and townspeople who are trying to survive and beat the aliens/large ants/super-sized scorpions or whatever big, bad scary happens to be coming for them. Which leads me to invite any of you that have fantastic suggestions of underrated b&w sci-fi films to post them for me. I will watch them. ☺

*On a related rant, the marketing team of the channel previously known as “SciFi” is moronic. Seriously. “SyFy”? What exactly is that supposed to accomplish. As my sister astutely pointed out (yet no-one on the marketing team seems to realize), “SciFi” actually means something: it is an abbreviation of “science fiction,” the genre in which this channel presumes to specialize. “Syfy” doesn’t stand for anything. In fact, it’s more likely to add to this generation’s inability to spell simple words than to their viewing audience. Frankly, I don’t understand their obsession changing perceptions about their channel. Cable channels succeed because of a niche market, not by avoiding. It. It’s all very ridiculous, really. Sigh.

*I had a lovely week in Louisville catching up with my dear friends, Kelly and Justin. Also, I’m apparently both silly and a cherry (nom nom nom) according to their delightful son. I am now hopelessly entrenched in the mysteries of Lost, thanks to them.

*Two days is not long enough to really give anyone a sense of Baton Rouge and surrounding area, particularly when part of the second day is spent dealing with a flattened tire. Poo. Ah well.

*My new classroom is fantastic. So much more everything than my previous one. Yay! Once I get everything set up for the year, I will have to post pictures. Now if I could just get all the things ready for the year that I need to. Haha. Such is life.

*You can watch a lot of Law and Order without getting tired of it. Also, you learn awesome legal trivia.

Well, that’s probably enough randomness for now. If it’s not, too bad for you! :-P

Posted by Renee at 07:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So we survived Hurricane Gustav. Or gus-TAV'. Or Guss'-tuv. Depending on which newscaster you happen to be listening to. Why it's so difficult to pronounce Gustav the right way every time, I have yet to figure out. Ah well. At any rate, it was very rainy and very, very windy, but survivable, over all. I took a video or two with my phone that I'll have to upload later. I pondered writing a lengthy narrative filled with description and drama for everyone to read, but I nixed that idea in favour of a Hurricane Ten:

10) Wind is very loud and very strong. During a hurricane you will grow tired of the incessant sounds of the wind and rain. But the occasional *crack...smash* of a falling tree will alleviate it.

9) Expect to lose electricity. Don't expect to know when you'll get it back.

8) Hurricanes black-outs are a good time to sit on the front porch and marvel at the power of nature. Just make sure you stay on the porch. They are a bad time to wander around. You get hit in the head by shingles and sticks and stuff. My sister's bf discovered that.

7) Hurricane black-outs are also a good time to sit around the table and play card games as a family. You'll have a great time, and you might discover that your typically acquiescent mother becomes a very competitive player when she's playing against your dad. lol

6) After the storm is over, you will cross your fingers for not-so-hot weather since your power will still be out.

5) Generators, while a little on the loud side, are quite a wonderful thing to have.

4) Cleaning up the yard is quite a task. There will be limbs, branches and leaves everywhere. Thankfully, we didn't lose any trees this time. Weirdly, it isn't just limbs, branches and leaves that get tosses around and down by hurricane winds. There is also a layer of shredded leaves that gets left on the ground. Yes. Shredded leaves.

3) Oscillating and box fans, and an old tv and N64 make the lack of power livable.

2) Governor Jindal has shown himself to be a very capable leader in times of anxiety and emergency. I'm glad to have him. Mayor Ray Nagin is a moron and I'm glad I don't live in his city.

1) This is a more serious point: I cannot begin to express my gratitude, and the gratitude of most everyone around here, to the electric workers and the Red Cross volunteers and the National Guard soldiers who have come down here to help get things back to normal as quickly as possible. You are all most appreciated and much thanked. There aren't really words to express how much.

So there you go. Hope you enjoyed. :-)

Posted by Renee at 09:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So my parents and my sister and I had a whirlwind trip this week. 1,583 miles round trip, four days gone, 1 brother graduated.

My brother has been gone the past 9 weeks for basic training at Fort Jackson, South Carolina. He's now fully immersed in the Army National Guard. And loves it. So we drove over there for his graduation from basic and then dropped him off at Fort Rucker in Alabama on our way home. He's doing 7 weeks of aeronautics training there. It was so great to see him again and meet some of his battle buddies...well, really, his brothers. I'm so proud of him.

My brother in ACU's.

My brother and some of his fellow warriors from 3-13th Infantry, F company, 1st Platoon.

The Battalion in formation on the parade grounds for graduation.

My brother and me after graduation. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture that shows the fabulously shiny shoes he was wearing with his Class B's.

So there you have a summary of what I've been doing since Wednesday at 6.30 am. It was a great trip, and I'm so proud of him. He's a great brother, and a great man.

Posted by Renee at 11:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

On the morning of June 6th, 1984...the fortieth anniversary of the storming of Normandy, President Ronald Reagan stood at Pointe Du Hoc and made this speech. It is long, but it is worth your moments. Do not forget the lives that were lost on foreign soil to defend liberty. It is their legacy we must continue to uphold.

We're here to mark that day in history when the Allied armies joined in battle to reclaim this continent to liberty. For four long years, much of Europe had been under a terrible shadow. Free nations had fallen, Jews cried out in the camps, millions cried out for liberation. Europe was enslaved, and the world prayed for its rescue. Here in Normandy the rescue began. Here the Allies stood and fought against tyranny in a giant undertaking unparalleled in human history.

Behind me is a memorial that symbolizes the Ranger daggers that were thrust into the top of these cliffs. And before me are the men who put them there. ...

Continue reading "D-Day" »

Posted by Renee at 03:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I apologize for the lack of posting. Life has been hectic and weird. School is almost out, so right now is kind of like a weird maelstrom before the calm. We may all survive. Maybe. I had a two-mom-in-two-day showdown last week. And the Main Mom has been nitpicking me ever since. But I'm at the point where I just couldn't care less. That's probably not a good thing. I'm just so tired of her that not caring has become the preferable option to telling her exactly what I think. The downsides of teaching can be exponential in some circumstances. Good thing the upsides are almost always exponential.

In other news, my brother left for boot camp this morning. I miss him already. Seven months without my brother will be a very weird experience. Sigh. Keep him in your prayers if you could.

Well, that's about all I have at the moment. I will renew my posting vigour when school is finally out. And I've caught up on nine months of sleep. haha

Posted by Renee at 08:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Somewhere there is a clip (that I wish I could find) from one of Jerry Seinfeld's stand-up routines about a mattress. Specifically, he calls our attention to the practice of tying a mattress to the roof of a car to move it, and then holding on to it with your arm. Because of course, if the tie-down job should prove insufficient at highway speeds, the average guy will be able to hang on to said mattress with his arm. Of course, when he puts it that way, you can see the ridiculousness of holding onto the mattress with your arm. Right?

Today, my dad was listening to the New Orleans traffic report and just had to share it with me. This afternoon, the traffic over the Mississippi river bridge was backed up to kingdom come. "Why?" you ask. Because of two large mattresses blocking all the lanes. Apparently, two guys had laid the mattresses on top of their car and then proceeded to attempt a drive over the bridge--you guessed it--holding them down with their arms. Seinfeld comedy routines should now be classified under "Educational Material."

Posted by Renee at 10:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

So I was watching The Simpsons tonight when I heard an incredibly profound statement. Actually, the entire episode was very profound, but this statement just leaped out at me and I thought it worth sharing:
No little girl can be happy unless she has faith in her father.

That is a simple, yet deeply true statement. And in it is the key to so many insecurities and struggles of women and girls today. Take a minute and just ponder that. That's all.

Posted by Renee at 06:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't have anything incredibly profound to say, but I felt like it was time to update something around here. School is going well, overall. Of course there are always bumps along the way since it involves dealing with 6th grade humans and 7/8 grade aliens. I never ceases to amaze me how an 8th grade boy can completely turn his entire brain off. For instance, two of the 8th grade boys earned a detention on Monday for passing notes back and forth in class (last hour, no less) about how mean and evil and strict, etc. the teacher sitting in the room is. She was sitting in the room. And could hear them. Hello? (The inability of said 8th graders to actually whisper is also a bizarre phenomena). So they served their detention, part of which was scrubbing urinals. Yes. Gotta love it. This job required wearing gloves, which they then decided to place inside the backpack of one of the 7th grade boys. What on earth? Needless to say, they earned a second detention. I'm not sure exactly what else they expected to come out of that. Sigh. It keeps life interesting, if nothing else.

I managed to catch a cold last week, also. I hadn't had a cold in years...I've had two this year. The first was manageable. This one hit me like a truck. I started sneezing on a Friday morning, by Friday night I was pretty much down for the count. Of course, I exacerbated the situation by driving to Lake Charles and back (2 hours each way) to do stats for the basketball teams. So I spent the weekend in bed. Monday dawned nearly voiceless. But I struggled through. By Tuesday, I was considering going to the doctor...which I never do. The other 5-8 teacher looked at me Tuesday afternoon and told the secretary to send around an email asking for a substitute for Wednesday. haha! So I got to go home early that day. At any rate, I struggled through last week with almost no voice, and coughing almost continuously. The kids now think I enjoy torture. I'm finally on the mend, but the 80% of my voice that has returned apparently makes me sound like Miley Cyrus. That has caused heretofore unknown hilarity among the ranks of students. It is pretty funny.

Other than that, life has been ... well, life. I finally read Crime and Punishment, my first ever Russian novel. It's a great read. It's already in the queue for a second read. Then I countered the deep book with Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep. Everybody needs a little noir every now and then, after all. And as usual, just when it seems that life is simple and manageable, complication comes to overwhelm my heart. But, it's just another reminder of Who I must trust, Who I must approach with my heart, with my complications, hurts, and joys. The result of all that personal complication, though, is less thoughtful blog posts. haha! It is those complications, and how we find our ways through them that molds us into who He wants us to be, though. It seems so hard to see that, but I just choose to know that it is Truth no matter how I feel about it in the moment. Eventually, it trickles down to change my feelings. Perhaps one day I'll be sanctified enough to move through that circle in ever rarer cycles. Perhaps.

So there's my life right now. Feel free to comment. It's interactive. :-D

Posted by Renee at 07:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

How often do you find yourself facing the spectres of your past experiences? I find this happens just about when I start getting comfortable with who I am. Perhaps that's because my spectres are directly related to my self-perception...particularly my self-perception as it relates to other people. I'm sure I'm not the only one who struggles with this. Other people have different spectres, but surely you've faced this, yourself. You've found yourself in a moderately comfortable place, perhaps not simple or easy, but fulfilling and comfortable. With me, it's typically a relationship. Not necessarily a relationship per se, but just a place of relating with another person. I'll be in a good place there when suddenly something happens, or some things happen, that awaken the past. Rejections come back to haunt me, past friends who just drifted away despite assurances otherwise float in front of my eyes. The kicker is that usually this new situation bears little resemblance to those of the past. Do you find that in your life? The situation that awakens the ghosts of the past is, when viewed rationally, not at all the same, but something about it lends energy to the ghosts. How do you face them? How do you react?

I'm finding more and more that it is a conscious battle. Silencing the spectres requires me to make a forceful decision about where I'm placing my hope and expectation. It requires me to choose to trust that other person, particularly when I know that the parts of the situation that have the most power to shake that trust are completely out of that other person's control. Trust doesn't come easy for me. Not trust in others nor trust in God and His work in my life. There are reasons for that. Some reasons attached to the ghosts of the past, and some not. It is so difficult and so exhausting to stop listening to those ghosts. To cognitively place my trust, my hope, my expectation in my truest Friend, Companion, Lover. It is a struggle. Perhaps the struggle seems greater because the rational decision to trust does not necessarily reflect itself in "feeling better." I know, and in these situations you probably do as well, that the spectres are still there, still under the surface, just waiting for another excuse to show themselves. Perhaps these struggles to overcome the ghosts of our past are part of "taking up our cross daily," of being a living sacrifice. Perhaps.

Posted by Renee at 09:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I have no real topic today, but rather a number of random thoughts that have come to my mind. Just thought I'd share.

1) My brother joined the National Guard yesterday. He might be leaving for basic training on Wednesday. He's never been away from home for more than two weeks before. The house will be...odd without him.

2) The 6th grade girls are on a mission to sneakily deprive me of my coloured white board markers and substitute black ones in their place. So far, every attempt to force me to write with a lack marker has failed.

3) Cold, rainy days make me want to stay in bed. Instead I have to get up at 5.30. Not quite the same.

4) My sister broke up with her boyfriend yesterday. She didn't tell me. I found out from someone else. Also the fact that he came straight to our house after work. And then left before 9.

5) I upgraded my cell phone a couple of weeks ago. I really like it.

6) Inside recess is loud. For some reason the girls are chasing people around. And one of the boys is fending them off with a used Kleenex. Yes, that is life in the 5th/6th grade.

7) Both nights of basketball games this week are away...over an hour away. That's tiring. But I like my 'job' enough to do it. :-)

8) Teaching numerous subjects leads to desk messiness.

9) Apparently the idea of my love life is unbelievably more fascinating than anything else in the life of 6th graders.

10) We're studying the Battle of Little Bighorn this week. It always saddens me. I know that other countries and peoples have just a harsh a history of feeling superior and thus justifying unethical treatment of other groups. But that doesn't make our history any easier to study.

That's all I've got for today.

Posted by Renee at 09:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

In the midst of one of my favorite Will Ferrel scenes, this homage to Shakespeare appears. I just had to share. Of course you must read with the "overly dramatic Shakespeare voice."

Where art thou, dog?
Thy canine lover.
Where is your hot breath upon the nape of my neck?
We shall form a bond of brotherhood: man and beast.
You shall lick my face, and I shall lick your snout.

Posted by Renee at 11:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

subtle, this quiet catlike entrance,
unexpectedly moving me to
run and throw open all the doors i've been
protecting for so long. i'm left
reeling, unsure of myself,
intently trying to understand the 'how' and 'why.'
surely there must be a reason
i can uncover with this diligent introspection.
nothing. just this intricate landscape of
glaring vulnerability from which i cannot hide.

Posted by Renee at 10:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So this afternoon I was cleaning my room (that sounds so high school, ha ha!), and Dante's Peak was playing on t.v. I had never watched it before. I purposefully avoided the Year of the Natural Disaster Movie. Maybe it was more like two years. You remember: the succession of movies about meteorites destroying the earth, or tornadoes beyond anything we've every seen, or volocanoes destroying the earth. You remember. But today I watched it. It was on. I was cleaning. It sucked me in to find out what happens. And hey, it has Pierce Brosnan and Linda Hamilton. But I did learn a few things from my viewing. Some of them I had learned from other action movies in the past and were just reinforced by watching Dante's Peak. Others, though, were new information for me. I thought it advisable for anyone who might find themselves in danger of imminent death-by-volcanoe.

1. Volcanoes are dangerous.
2. Volcanoe experts are more perceptive if a loved one died in a volcanoe emergency.
3. Hot springs near a dormant volcanoe can kill you.
4. When a volcanoe is about to erupt, it will give plants and animals mysterious illnesses.
5. The mayor of a small, struggling town never listens to dire warnings of disaster,
6. Dire warnings of disaster always threaten small, struggling towns.
7. Volcanologists are dashing and single-mother Mayors will fall for them.
8. When a volcanoe is about to erupt, it will make the tap water brown.
9. When a volcanoe is about to erupt, you should go inspect the town water supply and see if it is also brown. Also, if it smells like sulphur, run!
10. You should always drive a big truck; that way, when you are evacuating, you can drive through everyone else.
11. Single mothers always have spunky children.
12. Judicious application of the brake and gas is all you need to avoid a crashing helicopter.
13. Don't fly a helicopter through falling ash.
14. A disaster is a good time to reconcile with your estranged ex-mother-in-law.
15. Spunky children already know how to drive a car, just not what all the buttons do.
16. When you see a lava flow coming, run to water.
17. Volcanic activity turns lakes into acid, so always have an extra motor. And drive fast.
18. Do not jump out of the boat and try to make it to land. Especially when you've watched the metal boat melting underneath you. You will die.
19. Dying moments are cathartic--be sure to confess your foolishness and apologize if you are the one dying. If you are not the one dying, be sure to protest said confession and confess your own foolishness.
20. When you need it, you always find a large, heavy duty truck to use for escaping a volcanic eruption.
21. Dashing volanologists always know how to hot-wire a vehicle.
22. You can drive across a lava flow as long as you speed up enough, and you are driving aforesaid heavy duty truck.
23. A lava flow will cause your tires to catch on fire, but when you drive across the ash on the other side, they will extinguish.
24. You can drive on the crumpled rims of aforesaid melted tires for a long time. As long as you need to, really.
25. Disaster scientists are always conveniently working on a new, extra-special gadget that will turn out to be a life-saver.
26. When escaping a pyroclastic cloud, there will always be a convenient mineshaft into which you can drive.
27. Promises of a quiet house in Florida filled with good food and a launching point for fishing trips will quiet all fears of small children and single mothers.
28. If you leave aforementioned extra-special gadget in the heavy duty truck when you escape the cave in at the entrance of the mineshaft, you will have to go back for it risking death by rock-crushing.
29. If the extra-special gadget fails to turn on, highly educated volcanologists solve that problem by kicking it.
30. After being rescued from a cave in, the only emergency care you will need is a blanket.

There you go: all you need to survive an imminent volcanic eruption. I hope you never need it, but just in case....

Posted by Renee at 08:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

What do you do when you say yes to a date with someone to whom you feel you ought to give a chance, but you already know there just isn't a vibe there? I don't like worrying about this. I know--for various reasons--that there's a low expectation for this date. But I also know that it probably isn't going to change the way I feel. Especially since I have a crush on someone else. I know--a crush isn't anything. But I'm also fairly certain this guy that I said yes to has no clue what I'm really like--what he would really be getting himself into. Also, I think he's kind of boring. So. How do I do this thing? How do I make this friendly, yet clear that I think we should just be friends? And why do I feel the necessity of giving this guy a chance when I'm not particularly interested? Of course, it could be debatable that since I have a gut feeling where I already stand on this, I'm not really giving him a chance. Also, I suck at small-talk. This could be interesting. Thanks for letting me vent. Have a great evening.

*******update: Totally not all that exciting. The date was pleasant. His comment on Marlowe's Faust: i was kind of shocked when we started reading it; but, then by the end i could kind of see his point, so it was okay. So, you guys know how deep the conversation went, right? It was all nice conversation, but the few times I delved beyond what amounted to small talk, he just really didn't have anything to contribute. So, good experience as far as re-entering the dating realm; no second date will be granted. Thanks for the words of wisdom, all. I took it all to heart. Went to the coffee shop early and worked on lesson plans so I was calm and relaxed. Was friendly, but not encouraging/flirtatious. So. There you go. Here's to hoping for more interesting and exciting dates in the future. *cheers*

Posted by Renee at 08:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

So, the Undersecretary General of the UN thinks that Cuba is an example for the world. Probably because she thinks she'd be in the upper tier.

So tell me, should the world have this healthcare?
or this freedom?
or this "sustainable development"?
or this life?

I think the world could do without this shared experience. Most Cubans would probably agree.

Posted by Renee at 07:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Dreams fascinate me. They really do. I know I've mentioned that before. It amazes me that while you sleep, your brain comes up with these complex, and sometimes bizarre, storylines. Often they express our dreams, our desires, our fears, even ones that we try not to be aware of. Sometimes they seem to have no connection to reality, randomly jumping from scene to scene wtih no transtion. Fascinating.

This morning I had a dream that woke me. About two weeks ago I had one, as well. They were very, very different, though. I rarely dream about actual people that I know (expect when they are a sidekick on an adventure. you can wipe that look off your face now.). The last few times that I have, I've had the strangest, saddest dreams. The one two weeks ago was like that. I dreamed that for some reason I had to marry someone to save them from something. It was a name-only marriage, of course, but it meant that I had to give up the person that I really loved. It was really weird. Especially the dream-choice of who I really loved. I'm still pondering that a little. But I woke up completely freaked out at having to make that choice. Yuck.

This morning's dream totally creeped me out. I dreamed that I was sitting on the floor by a bed and watching a movie. My brother comes in in the last ten minutes and won't stop talking to me. I yell at him and so he leaves. Suddenly, I'm distraced by a weird shadow on the wall. I look up and there's this huge cockroach crawling around the light fixture (which was one of those hanging light bulb deals--weird). So I'm watching the bug crawl all around the fixture and I'm yelling for my brother to come get it when it falls off the fixture, floats in midair for a moment and then flies to land on my neck. I scream and jump up trying to brush it off. That's when I wake up. The creepiest thing was that I felt it crawl on me in my dream. Try to fall asleep after that. I definitely sat up and turned on the lamp and checked myself and the entire bed to make sure there wasn't a roach. And then I kept feeling things crawl on me. I hate that. So I'm thinking that some less vivid dreams are in order. :)

Posted by Renee at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

I know, I know. It's so long. I wanted to wait and see if I had more job news before posting again. I have an interview with the board on Tuesday night. I'm a little nervous. Mr. Dolan really thinks I can handle myself, though; that I'm fully prepared to answer the questions they'll have. He really wants to hire me. And that is fabulous. It's always good when your future principal is batting for you.

On a very different note, I saw a commercial last night that just floored me. I was so impressed by the subtlety with which an honorable goal was introduced. And I was even more blown away by the fact that it's a car commercial. It is the lates commercial for Saturn--a plug for their 5 hybrid models. This post isn't about hybrid cars, however. Perhaps I'll post some thoughts about that at a later date, perhaps not. This is about something very different and surprising in that ad. The ad centers around the word "Rethink," and features a series of different photographic shots: the first is presented with the word "Rethink" superimposed on the screen; then a second, opposing, shot is shown with "Rethink" followed by whatever concept you are to rethink superimposed. For example: picture of bodybuilder, superimposed "Rethink;" picture of Lance Armstrong winning, superimposed "Rethink strength." Even were it not for the opening shot, I find the commercial very artistically interesting. And the music is good. :)

But the opening two shots make this commercial. Shot one: the right fist of a black man, each finger holding a large, gaudy ring. Shot two: the left fist of a smiling black man, the third finger holding a wedding band. "Rethink bling." Now that's a commercial. It almost made me want to buy a Saturn.

If you haven't had the pleasure of seeing this add, here's the link:
saturn ad

Posted by Renee at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, the phone call went well. We covered a lot, including my bane of classroom management. We talked about where I was when teaching there before, where I am now, where I would like to be. So, since the decision not to renew my contract was administrative, Mr. Dolan will be presenting the case for pursuing re-hiring me at the board meeting tomorrow night. Oh, the waiting...the waiting. Continued prayers are in order. I'm very happy that Mr. Dolan is pleased with the way our conversation went. He's completely behind me and will be completely behind me before the board. Praying. Praying.

Posted by Renee at 07:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

So I got a call from the principal of the classical school at which I worked a couple of years ago. They are looking for teachers for next year--including 5th and 6th grade which I taught before--and he wants to talk to me about possibly taking one of those positions. Guys--I was totally praying for this when I went to the silent auction a few weeks ago to show my face again. I really want this. I really want to be back in a classroom. I really love the school. I am really passionate about the classical model.

The things to pray for: that Mr. Dolan and I click (already on a good note since we're both Mac users); that when the issue of classroom management is addressed, it will be okay (that was the issue behind the non-renewal of my teaching contract, but the person leaning on that isn't there anymore and isn't Mr. Dolan); that I'm offered a contract for 5th and/or 6th grade (I don't really do younger grades). I really want this (I think I've said that already). I'm not ready to relocate, yet, and this is a perfect opportunity for me--it would be less money than I'm making now, but with much more soul-food. :)

Posted by Renee at 07:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Cuban journalist sentenced to 4 years in jail (UPDATED)
Oscar Sanchez Madan

Independent journalist Tania Maceda Guerra reports that Sanchez, also the spokesman for the Alternative Option Independent Movement, was tried and convicted, without a defense lawyer or his family present. A police official informed his mother about what had happened, but she was not permitted to speak with her son, according to Maceda's story.

But Cuba has "universal" health care, that must make everything worth it.

Posted by Renee at 11:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Do you ever feel that you aren't where you thought you would be in life? That somehow the goals you had were set aside and forgotten? I feel like that today...well, the last few days...and it troubles me. And it isn't particularly that I had a list of things I wanted to accomplish by now, or a particular place where I wished to be, but there were things I loved--do love--that I thought I would be doing. Or at least have done, or working towards doing.

I've had this quagmire of thought before. This time it has struck with more force because of the band we met last week, and the blues singer they opened for at the fabulous House of Blues last Thursday. [pause for brief and shameless plug: Reeve Carney and the Revolving Band and Jonny Lang are both worth a good, long listen, guys. They are good.] Here's the thing: These guys are all under the age of 26. Even the exceptional Mr. Lang. All of them are doing what they love, and doing it very well. I, on the other hand, have done very little of what I love.

It's not that I don't know what's holding me back. I'm very aware that I'm so afraid. I'm terribly afraid of having doors slammed in my face, of losing just when I think I've almost accomplished a dream. I didn't used to be this afraid. Maybe part of it is cynicism, but then, I'm not sure when I became any kind of a cynic.

So I need to finish my story. I need to try and see if I can get it published. I need to take a step. You can't touch the stars of your dreams if you keep standing flat-footed, right?

And I really miss my car. A Dodge Caravan just doesn't go so well with my Yellowcard.

Posted by Renee at 07:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

The worst sound in the world: phone calls at three a.m. It's so hard to believe it's been over a year. It still hits me every so often. If anyone ever calls me in the middle of the night for any reason other than dire emergency, they won't forget the consequences.

The second worst sound in the world (and the reason for this post): one car colliding with another. If that wasn't on my list of sounds that should be banned from radio commercials, it should be. It's a terrible, terrible sound. The first time I realized how awful that sound is I was not driving the car. My grandmother was. Some guy ran a stop sign and smashed into us. This time I was driving. In fact, I was a mere block from the office yesterday morning when it happened. I glanced over at a dump truck parked on the side of the road. I looked back to see a small minivan had stopped at the intersection about 100 feet from where I was currently cruising at 40mph. I hit the brakes. No. I didn't just hit the brakes. --small pause: here's what I should have done--tap the brakes and pull rapidly into the parking lot to my right.-- Here's what I did: slam on the brakes. Here's the problem: I don't have ABS. Here's what happened: the brakes locked and thanks to the fact that it had been raining all morning, there was no friction to stop the skidding car. --second small pause: here's what I should have done now--pull the e-brake.-- In the following 1.5 seconds of panic (there is nothing like the panic of knowing you cannot control your vehicle and you will hit the vehicle stopped in front of you), I did not have the time or the presence of mind to grab the e-brake. Thus, I plowed right into the back of a stopped red Mitsubishi minivan.

Cons: I felt so badly for hitting that lady. It was my fault for not paying enough attention and not reacting as well as I could have--as well as I have in other, more unavoidable, near-collision situations.
Cons: It was raining the whole time.
Cons: I couldn't stop crying.
Cons: My car is very broken.
Cons: See above.
Cons: My neck hurts a lot. I hope the lady I hit feels better than I do.
Cons: The hood of my car was crunched up to the front wheel wells.
Cons: The front of engine was angled back into itself in a manner relative to above.
Cons: I could get sued.

Pros: The lady I hit was very nice. Had she swooped out the car and been a witch-on-wheels, it would have gotten really ugly.
Pros: Her son was equally nice, and had recently been in an accident himself.
Pros: NO ticket was written. (Thank you BR City Police)
Pros: Full collision coverage.
Pros: Only a $500.00 deductible.
Pros: Great insurance agent.
Pros: Great body shop.
Pros: The only thing that hurts is my upper back and neck. It could've been so much worse.
Pros: No one hit me from behind.
Pros: Apparently., my hood is supposed to look like that after a front-impact collision. It did what it was supposed to.
Pros: My headlights were still working.
Pros: The other lady's car just had a dented back bumper, and her radio popped out of the dash. Maybe she won't sue.
Pros: If she does sue, I know a good lawyer.

So. My baby goes to the body shop today. I suppose I'll find out soon if it's "repairable" or not. Or if the repairs will be too much to make it worth it. I want it to be "repairable." After all, this car is paid for. I like that feeling. I don't particularly want to lose it. I like my car.

Posted by Renee at 02:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

The following people should have their driver's licenses revoked:
*people who speed to the end of the on-ramp/merging lane, come to a complete stop, then expect one of the people who followed the road signs earlier to allow them in, glaring at people who do not.
*people who honk at the driver in front of them when said driver stops long enough to politely allow in a driver wishing to turn onto the road.
*people who pull across an intersection knowing full well they will never make it through do to the traffic and the fact that light is yellow, thus blocking off the entire intersection for all of the other cars until the next cycle.
*people who speed around cars that are slowing to turn nearly causing the death of drivers who were using that slow-to-turn in order to effect their own turn.
*people who speed directly up to your rear bumper and then flash their lights as though expecting you to move over even though it's absolutely impossible for you to move over due to the three cars and the 18-wheeler that are occupying the expanse of lane next to you.

The following sounds should be banned from radio advertisements:
*any and all emergency vehicle souns/sirens
*any and all collision sounds
*honking noises

Can you tell it's been a bad week for driving around here?

Posted by Renee at 10:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

So The Academy and Raul Castro agree on something:

Gore climate change Oscar entry has Cuba's vote
Mon Feb 26, 2007 12:36 AM IST
By Marc Frank

© Reuters 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Interesting. Another reason I won't be watching it anytime soon. Sorry, Al.

Posted by Renee at 02:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Why do faery tales appeal to us? Why do adults still remain fascinated by the stories they were told as children? Why do we continue to revisit them, both in their original forms and in amended and modernized forms?

Knowing many of those who read this blog personally, I feel fairly safe in hazarding, like several notable writers of both the present and past, that they appeal to us because the shadow the Great Story. They haunt us because they remind us that we are part of a Faery Tale ourselves. They offer us reminders of the hope before us. They pierce us with the possibilities that Hope is and the Hope finds us when we need it. But for all their hope, their joy, their haunting, faery tales are so often filled with a brutal edge. But then, life itself is filled with many brutal edges.

Why do ponder this? Because I am so impressed with a new faery tale.

Continue reading "The phenomenon we call “faery tale”" »

Posted by Renee at 03:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

The Paladin You scored 23% Cardinal, 28% Monk, 61% Lady, and 67% Knight!

You are highly moral but also don't shy away from using force if your lord commands it. You are honourable to the point that you would readily sacrifice yourself for a noble cause. Your name will be the subject of tales and song for generations, however their concentration will be less on your deeds in life as on your martyrdom. You scored high as both the Knight and the Lady. You can try again to get a more precise description of the Knight or the Lady, or you can be happy that you're an individual.

Posted by Renee at 10:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah--bandwagon and all that...

IF YOUR LIFE WERE A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie.

OPENING CREDITS: Symphony No. 5: Allegro by Beethoven

WAKING UP: "Who'll Stop the Rain" by Credence Clearwater Revival

FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL: "Opening" from The Secret Garden (B'way soundtrack)

FALLING IN LOVE: "The Road I'm On" by 3 Doors Down

FIGHT SONG: "The Symphony of Blase" by Anberlin

BREAKING UP: "Daughters" by John Mayer

PROM: "Angel of Music" from Phantom of the Opera

LIFE: "Sarala" by Ceadmon's Call

MENTAL BREAKDOWN: "Jerusalem" by Matisyahu

DRIVING: "Proud Mary" by Credence Clearwater Revival

FLASHBACK: "Where the Sun Never Dies" by Blindside

WEDDING: "We Don't Care Anymore" by Story of the Year

BIRTH OF A CHILD: "Grim Goodbye" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

FINAL BATTLE: "SexyBack" by Justin Timberlake

DEATH SCENE: "Rain" from Jane Eyre (B'way Soundtrack)

FUNERAL SONG: "Remember When It Rained" by Josh Groban

END CREDIT: "Running Out of Days" by 3 Doors Down

I'm not really sure what to say about some of those; others I find fantastically cool. I must admit to skipping the Christmas songs. I hope that's okay.

Posted by Renee at 09:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I am currently baffled by the power of dreams. Why do dreams have so much sway on our hearts? I know this isn't always the case, but from time to time, don't you have a dream that just haunts you? Do you just have a dream that is so vivid, and touches on something so close to your heart, that you just can't shake it? I had a dream like that last night. I've been going through a spate of extremely vivid dreams lately, but they've typically followed my usual pattern of action/adventure dreams with an objective to pursue and difficult obstacles in the way. Not last night. Last night my dream was equally vivid, but oh-so-heartwrenching. It touched a personal struggle, a deep place of sadness/loss, so thoroughly that sitting here at my desk I'm having trouble concentrating. It's just playing in my mind, and I'm fighting a sorrow for something that didn't actually happen, but feels like it could have. Something I almost wish would happen, but would be utterly painful if it did. So today I ache with haunting,and I wonder why something I know is merely a dream, merely a fabrication of my own mind, can have such power over how I feel today. It's just a dream. Yet, it's more than that. And I just can't shake it. It hovers and replays in my mind while I'm trying to care about work. Do you ever have dreams like that? Dreams you just can't let go of, no matter what you do? Why do you think they hold us this way? Why is our own mind such a mystery?

Posted by Renee at 10:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So much is on my heart today. I have some thoughts to share, an explanation later.

My first thought is just gratefulness and admonishment. Now, those of you other marrieds, please don't feel slighted, but I haven't seen your marriage in action. I can't use you as my example. I just want to encourage you all to always seek transparency with each other, especially those of you who are ministry couples. And I want to chare my gratefulness to Kelly and Justin for always striving for this. Kelly and Justin are always open with each other about what's going on--and esp. in some certain situations where accountability was crucial, they have cultivated what's necessary to be accountable to each other. I appreciate that. I appreciate knowing that my dear friends take their relationship seriously and take the threats that face is daily seriously. I admonish all of you to do the same. Be open. And if something causes your spouse anxiety or concern, listen to them. Please do not repsond with defensiveness. Do not chalk their concern up to jealousy. Do not assume they don't trust you. Listen to their fear. Discuss their concern. Change your behavior to alleviate the anxiety. Please. Be accountable to each other in everything. You cannot rely other people to protect your marriage if you do not. You cannot rely on other people to respect your marriage if you do not. You, the couple, are your marriage's first and most vital line of defence.

My second thought is a slight rant. Growing up in the social circles I did, I was surrounded by a number of people who were part of the ATI/Bill Gothard phenomenom. People who dogmatically assert that dating is practicing for divorce and only courtship is the way of God. Now, don't get me wrong, I think dating in high school is a dangerous waste of time. I think dating is looking toward the goal of marriage. I think you should never date someone who isn't marriage material. I do not think, though, that following some certain plan labelled "courtship" is the cure-all. It is not a guarantee of a healthy, lasting marriage. It's not. In fact, believing that probably sets an automatic pitfall in your path. You cannot rely on a formula for marital success--not after marriage, not before.

So the explanation: last night my aunt called. My cousin-in-law, D, has left his wife, my cousin, K, and their four children for the divorced mother of one of the kids in his youth group. The situation started months ago when this woman painted a big target on D and began actively pursuing him as soon as her divorce was finalized. She was needy, she was alone, she needed support from a godly man. She needed to text message him at all hours of the day and night. Whenever K would try to talk to D about it, she was just jealous. She didn't trust him. Of course, she should have immediately gone to the pastor so this woman could be approached with the complete inappropriateness of her behavior, but K was afraid D would lose his job. D doesn't have a college degree, they couldn't afford to lose this job. So she didn't talk to anyone in the church about it. He did not place himself into a position of accountability with anyone. He did not protect his marriage. He did not allow his wife to help him protect his marriage from a brazen woman who knew but didn't care that he had a wife and four children. My feeling is that so much of this was set up by the situation in their last church. In their last church, D was the youth minister, K stayed home trying to make ends meet on a salary that qualified them for food stamps. They were not viewed as a team by the church or the pastor. The habits of separation planted the seeds for all of this to happen. If you are in a position to influence how your church views the ministers and their families, take time to work toward ensuring that they are viewed as a team, not as a pastor and then somewhere else is his wife. The more you separate your pastor and his family, the less you help him to be a strong part of an accountable team. Encouraging and uplifting your ministers means encouraging them to be transparent husbands and fathers. Do what you can to encourage that environment.

I'm just heartsick. My aunt and uncle are flying to Dallas today to see what to do. I certainly hope this church will deal with the situation as a church ought to, and not as many churches often do. Pastors, teachers, ministers--be careful: every day you are faced with dangers. Every day you are surrounded by people with emotional needs, by Bright Young Minds who entrance you by listening, by those who look up to you. Understand the need to protect by being accountable. Strive for a marriage that is an Environment of Grace and Trust where nothing is kept hidden; where there are no secret crushes or desires or thoughts that could crack the foundation. Be constantly aware that every opportunity for personal ministry, for helping a student or member to victory can be a danger to your marriage if you let it. This doesn't mean to wall yourself away. It does mean to make your spouse your confidant in everything. This will keep you from letting the wrong seeds grow. They grow fast--this whole K and D situation was less than 6 months. Please, please protect yourselves.

Posted by Renee at 09:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Usually I have a class to whom to read these. This year I do not. So, the internet reading audience gets to be my class today. A few years ago, I discovered a fabulous site called Eyewitness to History. I guess the name of the site pretty much explains why it's so fabulous. I made gratuitous use of it while teachign 5th and 6th grade history. And on Pearl Harbour Day. So. Use the links. Live the day with them.

eye witness at Pearl Harbour

Japanese pilot's view at Pearl Harbour

White House reaction to the attack

Posted by Renee at 10:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't really have a thoughtful post today. This is just a rather rare spillage post. I am feeling so down today. I don't really know why, although my very strong guess is that it's a hormonally driven down-ness. And I hate that. I hate that my emotions are in any way controlled by the balance of my chemical makeup at any given time. I hate that I am now going through my day trying not to be impatient with people who don't deserve my impatience because I'm a female. I hate that the most mundane things provoke me to tears for no reason other than my body is telling me that they are the end of the world. And the problem with this office job is that it is so much easier to drop the guard that keeps me from being the word that rhymes with witch when there are so few people around. In a classroom, there is enough distraction to survive the hormonal days. In this office, there isn't always. Probably I also need some sleep. Probably it would have been a better day had the headline this morning not been a story about an impatient teenager cutting off a school bus, thus causing the death of three of his fellow students. I've just had that on my heart all day.

I think I need the time to have a good cry.

Posted by Renee at 03:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

So after reading Jesse's blog, I usually check out the "Compacts" on the side. Maily because I'm a random information nerd. At any rate, I just had to post this one in case other people aren't so much into checking out the "Compacts." It's very, very funny. Our family favourites have always been #21, #33, and #35. We like #33 so much, we always love to point it out whenever we see it in a movie or t.v. show.

So go have a laugh on this Thrusday morning. And then take some time to enter the television discussion in the post below. :)

Posted by Renee at 09:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Thanks for the comments on my last post. Michael, I was glad for a little more historical insight than I had. I think both you and Jesse hit the central issue that people have when dealing with television: we have a avery visible reminder of who its sponsors are. That isn't to say that films aren't sponsored--they most certainly are, typically by whatever products you see artfully panned over in the course of the film--but where television is concerned, we can't really ignore it. I have friends who are severe movie fans, and who attend and perform in various and sundry stage performances, and yet fervently proclaim they "hate t.v." This has, more and more, come to seem to me as a false dichotomy. So here are my thoughts on the matter.

For centuries, entertainment and literary endeavours centered solely around the written word and the live performance of the written word. During those centuries, there were typically two types of literature: really long (epic poems, full-length plays, novels) and short (narrative and lyric poems, one-act plays, short stories). With the advent of the twentieth century a new form of entertainment was introduced: the radio. Radio then ushered in the age of motion picture technology and finally the television set. Somewhere along the line, film became an accepted form of artistic endeavour while television has largely, in America at least, remained marginalized. (Michael's comment on last post gives a great summary of one reason why) Typically the reasons given are that television is commercialized, that television writers are hacks, that television shows are shallow and don't tackle philosophical matter, that television characters are not well developed, that television is an artistic sell-out. My problem with every one of those arguments is that they can just as easily apply to any other artistic realm as well as they can apply to television.

Television is a commercial endeavour--it has to be. Without commercial sponsors, there isn't any money. The same is true for any other art form. Plays have corporate sponsors and advertising sponsors listed in the program. Broadway plays have pages of ads in their programs, yet they don't receive criticism for being commercialized. I would guess the reason is two-fold: it is already accepted as art, and we still have to buy a ticket. Movies, which are gaining acceptance as art--some film great enough to be labelled "classic" already--are also sponsored commercially. Previews are ads. That's not counting the actual ads that often play before the previews. Often, products are highlighted in movies--ever notice how many of the computers are Macs? How many people drink Coca-cola? Even visual art must appeal to buyers or the artist cannot support himself. All art contains a certain measure of commercialism if it is to be successful.

For the sake of space--and because the rest of the criticism are similar--I'll combine the rest as a single issue: Television produces a lower quality product that doesn't challenge the audience to tackle weighty matters. Here comes my one allowance of sarcasm: because all other art forms at all other times have always produced high quality pieces that constantly challenge the audience with weighty ideas. Sure. I've read Restoration plays--they make todays raunchiest sit-coms look prudish and high quality. Seriously. The fact is that all artistic and entertainment expression has many levels of product. Yes, some shows are ridiculous and come nowhere near the bar of "art." But the same is true for many novels, plays, even visual art works. That, to me, is no reason to throw out an entire genre as worthless. I understand that it is easier to pin the label "art" or "classic" on a movie because it's a single package--a piece of artistic communication that can be watched in a single sitting and evaluated. It is seamless, allowing a particular idea or event to be examined and weighed deeply at a single time. Television does not have that advantage. For that reason, a well-crafted television show, to me, deserves even more respect. Television writers have a shorter time-frame in which to present ideas and events while holding the audience's attention through commercial breaks. That is not an easy task. They don't have a huge screen on which to unfold their events which limits the awe and emotional attachment response that they can produce. And even with the advantages of working with film, how many films have you been to see with expectation that completely let you down? And how many films are just about creating some cheap laughs. The product is solely the result of who is producing it, not where it appears.

I am completely convinced that as we move more and more into an age of digital media, television, not just film, needs to be given credence as a legitimate art form. Not that all television will rise to the form of "art" or "classic" any more than all plays or novels will. If we accept the film as the digital equivalent to the novel, the epic, the full-length play, then I think we ought to consider the medium of television as the digital equivalent of the short-story, the narrative, the one-act play. If we can look at short stories as legitimate pieces of literature that have something to say, then why can we not accept television in that way? Frankly, much of what we consider "classic" today was written for entertainment; and in the cases of some novels, was even serialized with sponsors (Dickens...). I would not find it surprising if 100 years from now, television series were looked on in the same manner--as a 20th/21st century literary form. Don't get me wrong, not all television is good literature (Yes, Dear--ick), but some of it downright brilliant (The Office, yay). I just think t.v ought to be given the fair shake that most of us are more than willing to give to film.

Sorry, this is rather longer than I intended. Oh well. I'm not reading it. :) At any rate, I would certainly welcome some more thoughts on the matter. And perhaps what shows you think ought to be considered as future classics and why?

Posted by Renee at 11:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm a very tired girl today. Frankly, I don't have anything much of import to share, but I felt that it had been so long since I had posted that I ought to post. I suppose I am posting due to guilt trip.

I wore wings yesterday. It was fun. Every girl should have a pair, just for fun. Like stretchy pants.

I have been fighting off a migraine since yesterday. I hate this. The fact that I am able to function makes people assume that my migraine isn't all that much, but it is. Mainly I'm just too obstinate to give in to the pain and the nausea. Also, I strongly appreciate the help of Excedrin Migraine.

I have a number of thoughts mulling around in my mind waiting for me to express them here. I haven't gotten that far. My brain is pretty much drained by the end of the day. One of the biggest differences I've noticed being a secretary as opposed to being a teacher is that I'm drained without the joy. Teaching is incredibly draining, but the students so often put a joy back into me that it's a good drained, a good tired. I don't get that here. I'm just drained. Usually, I also don't want to talk to anyone when I get home, either. I don't like that very much. When I was having a bad day as a teacher, I always got encouragement from students, sometimes words, sometimes hugs, sometimes pictures that said "I love you, Miss D." I miss that. I don't get any of that when I'm having a bay day now. I just have to suck it up and try not to be witchy. I don't like that. Oh well. I have just less than 6 months left. I can handle that. :)

One of the things that I'm ruminating on is television. I've been thinking a good deal about it because of comments people make about not watching television, hating television, television is low-brow, etc. So I started wondering: why? Why do some of the same people that will watch a movie and consider it a form of art, reject television out of hand? I will refrain from expounding on my position until I have more coherence and less nerve pain, but what do y'all think? Lest I ruffle any feathers, I am thinking of no one in particular, I'm just reacting to a collage of comments that I have heard or read or gathered--some from people I've never met--that started me down the path to examining what makes people dismiss the medium of television. Any answers?

Posted by Renee at 02:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

In contemplation of the sermon topic this morning, I thought I'd pose a few questions. The sermon is one in a series regarding true discipleship. Not the fill in the workbook and memorize some verses discipleship, but true, transformation as disciples of Christ. The spur for this study is a book entitled Choose the Life by Bill Hull. It's an excellent book that will entirely change the way you view what it means to be a believer--to be a disciple. Right now we're examining "Relationships and the Life," particularly what it means to foster an "environment of grace." Hull contends that an enviroment of grace is one that fosters trust--it is an environment where it is safe to be real and vulnerable, where you trust that you won't be hung out to dry for a mistake, where you mistake will be confronted honestly but with love to help you get up and move on with experience. The environment of grace is important because grace leads to trust which leads to communication which leads to vulnerablity/humility which leads to allowing another to help you grow. So, the questions are: have you had in your life (whether in church or out) an experience with an evironment of grace? would you say that your current church experience reflects, or is seeking to reflect, an environment of grace? how would your church experience be different or better if an environment of grace were fostered? how would your personal walk be affected by said fostering?

Posted by Renee at 01:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

So I was reading this article in USA Today that was really an interview with Robin Williams. It's really a very good interview--I like Williams more and more, even if we aren't always on the same philosophical page. At any rate, what he said about the 2008 presidential race was just so priceless I had to share:

"The comic belives that 2008 could bring a female candidate into the president race. And who better thatn Oprah Winfrey.
"'It would be great to see her in a debate,' Williams says. 'It would be a pay-pr-view debate, har and Condoleezza Rice. And once the Stanford stuff drops ...' He holds out his hand, as if halting traffic. '"Girl, I tell you, mm, mm."' Two brilliant black women going at it. It would be amazing. And it they have a talent section, I know Condoleezza would win that because of the cello. No one has seen Oprah do an intretive ballet.'
Yes, but she could do a scene from Beloved.
'It would be great if she did a scene from Beloved while Condoleezza played the cello. YOu could pay for the whole election that way just with the CD, DVD, ancillary rights--and the sweater.'"

Now that would be fun!

Posted by Renee at 02:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Tonight I went to see The Centenary College Choir. One of my former students sings in it. If any of you ever have a chance to see this choir perform, take it. they were phenominal, and the repetoire was delightful. On song, in particular, was truly striking: Tenebrae factae sunt by Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina. The melody was haunting and filled with glory, and the subject poignant--the sufferings of Christ at the ninth hour. Fabulous.

I was once again struck by the amazing beauty of music and of the human voice. A particular combination of notes, sometimes even a single note, has the power to fill your body and bring tears--a sense of wonder--to your eyes. I think there is little in this world that can touch our souls the way music touches us. The capabilities of human kind leave me at a loss for words. Yes, we are capable of creating great destruction, but we are also so capable of creating immense beauty. In this incredibly vast universe, God saw fit to put us here and give us such gifts of beauty. It's humbling.

I'm curious--what are some moments when you have been filled by music?

Posted by Renee at 10:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I didn't forget about part three of my Katrina posts, I just got a little derailed. Honestly, between the death of Steve Irwin and the 5-year 9/11 anniversary, I just didn't really feel like writing about Katrina. But here goes the "One Year Later" post.

One year after Katrina is pretty much a mixed bag. The key word for everything in the affected areas is "Patience." A close second is "Waiting." The biggest and most difficult hurdle for residents and rebuilders to face is the red tape. Some areas have come a long, long way in only a year. By January, most areas of Jefferson Parish (Metairie, Kenner) were allowing rebuilders to hook up FEMA trailers in the their front yards while they rebuilt. Orleans Parish was, and still is, a whole different matter. Due to yards and yards of red tape, residents are not allowed to hook up their FEMA trailers because the power isn't on. In order to get the power on, you have to have a power permit. The parish/city government is not issuing power permits, however, until they know how many people will be returning. People aren't returning, though, because they government won't issue power permits for them to move FEMA trailers into their yards and start rebuilding. There is a huge power struggle going on. Despite the absolute foolishness of some of Mayor Nagin's statements recently, he has produced some very good ideas about getting the city moving again, getting FEMA trailers into the Parish, getting residents moved back in. Unfortunately, the city council has been fighting him tooth and nail. Apparently, any idea they don't come up with can't be a good one. Or at least any idea they can't take credit for. In some areas, like St. Bernard Parish, residents are still waiting to find out the plan: will their house be a candidate to rebuild? will it be removed in order to strengthen levees? will it be a park? Slowly, but surely they are finding out and are finally able to make real decisions and plans for the future.

When my grandmother finally moved back into her house in July or so, she was the only person on her street back in. Now there are a number of people back into their houses. The main problem everywhere is just the waiting. Waiting for permission. Waiting for supplies. Waiting for workers. It takes weeks to get an electrician. The demand is so much higher than the supply. Some people are waiting to get FEMA trailers now that they have the permission to hook them up; others are waiting for FEMA to come pick up the ones they aren't using anymore. And everyone is waiting for enough people to move back so that the area will be stabilized.

The scariest problem now is, of course, the crime. Gang warfare has escalated phenominally in recent months as they fight over territory that was either abandoned by gangs who left or was theirs before and must be reclaimed. In the abscence of many older gangs and gang members due to evacuation, the gang members murdering each other in the streets are so young: 12, 13, 14. These kids need prayer and guidance. Business owners and police officers need support and prayer themselves. There is so much territory to patrol that when something does happen, it just takes too long for officers to get to the scene.

There are a lot of problems left to deal with. Katrina was devestating to this area. But good things are happening. The city is taking baby steps back to where it was, and hopefully beyond that to where it ought to be. I added some links after this. The first is to the city's website, the second to a map of the rebuilding. Though ya'll might find that interesting.

http://www.nola.com/

Map

Posted by Renee at 02:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I have sat here today trying to find words to say about 9/11. About where I was; about how I felt. When I watch the footage today, I still get the same chills I had that Tuesday morning. I was alone when I found out what happened. Kelly taught 2nd hour. I didn't teach until after lunch. When the phone, all I could think about was that I just wanted to sleep in. I answered it anyway.

"Renée. Something terrible has happened. There were terrorist attacks."
"What?"
"Some terrorists flew airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Some terrorists hijacked some airplanes and flew them into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Nobody knows how many other planes have been hijacked. The buildings are on fire."

I don't even remember what we said after that. All I could think of was all of those people in those buildings. Our radio barely got any stations (yay, Griffith). So I got ready as fast I could while weeping, and ran over to the Grille to see if the news was on yet. It wasn't yet. So I ran back to my car, drove off campus and listened to CNN on the radio. I can still hear the newscaster's voice as he described the Towers falling. I still don't think I really believed what was happening. Who believes things like that can happen? By now I just couldn't take it anymore, I had to see this. I drove back to campus. By this time the news was on in the Grille. By this time there were people in there watching the footage in silence. I think that's the only time in my 6 years at school that there was such silence. I don't even know how long I stood there next to Yukimi Song, the two of us weeping. I think the only reason I could still stand on my feet was because my arm was around her, and hers around me. At some point, we went to get something to eat. I don't even remember everyone who was at that table. I know Kelly was. I know Jeremy Killian was. He said the thing I will never forget: "I understand now why Catholics pray for the souls of the dead. Because it all seems so hopeless."

I have no idea what I did in those two speech classes that afternoon. I know the first thing the students asked was, "Is it true?" I do still remember their eyes when I explained the truth. I remember feeling sick after the OK City bombing. This was beyond that. The thought of so many people dying is too much to grasp. What was phenomenal to grasp was what I wrote about the next day, and what is still so important to focus on: "It has been wonderful to see Americans filling their role as American. To see this great people stand on its feet, refuse to accept defeat; mourn with its soul, yet work as it must to keep moving." The fact is, thousands and thousands of people's lives were saved because average Americans and courageous rescue workers helped other people. I will never take a firefighter or police officer for granted again. And I will always hope that if I am ever in a situation remotely like that, that I will be one who reaches to help someone else. Because someone else is more important that I.

September 11, 2001, is still a ragged gash hidden under the skin for so many people. I can't imagine what it's like for New Yorkers, for those affiliated with the Pentagon, for families who lost. What I do know is that we need to keep a little of that raggedness no matter how much we heal. It's important.

Posted by Renee at 08:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

First of all, this post was hard for me to do. There are so many pictures to choose from. I tried hard to pick the ones that will mean the most to my readers--ones that tell the story for those of you without personal experience of the area. I haven't put captions on the pics because I lost track of which ones I uploaded when, but you won't need them, really. The pictures speak for themselves. A few things I'd like to point out: the pictures cover Slidell, New Orleans, and Plaquemines Parish; in one shot you will see a large boat on the side of the Interstate, about 2 miles from the north shore of the Lake;the indoor shot with the panelling walls is the house our aquaintances lived in in Slidell; the shot of the inside of the house (with the mauve furniture) is from the house where my dad grew up, in Gentilly; a couple of shots show the rescue marks, they also show where the water was at the time they were made; a couple of shots show the water lines as the pumps were finally brought back on line and slowly moved the water out of the city; one shot shows a house on stilts surrounded by other stilts--there used to be a group of houses there over the water, only one was left; one shot from Plaquemines shows a bridge with a group of masts pushed up against it; finally, everything that you see that's brown ought to be green--the saltwater destroyed most of the vegetation, including very old oak trees, in the city.

So. Here you go. To start you off, I put a link below to an area map.

map of the area

Continue reading "rebuild. restore.renew. Pt 2" »

Posted by Renee at 10:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So it's a year later. Watching films of Katrina and "Year Later" news coverage is not easy. It's so hard to convey the way it makes me feel. The only thing that I can use as an analogy that even resembles it is 9/11. For New Yorkers, the feeling of seeing a huge hole in the skyline has got to be similar to seeing a city you love and are close to completely inundated by water. These are places I have been many, many times. These are streets I have driven down. This is a city in which member of my family have lived and do live. A year later, many things are better than they might have been; many things are not as good as they could be. So, I think that I should break this into more than one post, for the sake of my reading public. haha. This post will be a...collage of what I wrote at the time, of some deeper thoughts in looking back. I'll post later on what I see happening now. I'll do a separate post of pictures. It is very hard to write about this without seeming melodramatic or apathetic. I will try to just be honest about what it was like here, less that 80 miles away, the closest city on the evacuation route, a city also wounded by the storm but trying to help.

August 28th
The day after my 27th birthday. I don't feel 27. How is one supposed to feel at 27? I still feel 20 and unsure of myself so much of the time. At any rate, my sister and her friends (some of whom are on the basketball team I coach) spent the last two weeks planning a surprise party for me that was held during youth group tonight. They were upset that more people couldn't come--they invited a ton--because Katrina is now headed our way. In fact, it started wind-ing and raining during youth. This one is big--N.O. has been evacuating since yesterday, today they're under a mandatory evacuation.
No one really thought the storm would be as dangerous as it was. After all, most of the people there have grown up weathering storms in the city without evacuation. Why should they worry now? The southern Parishes--Plaquemines and St.Bernard--have been steadily emptying the last couple of days. Most New Orleanians probably figure they'll just get stuck on the highway anyway. There aren't many rooms left in Baton Rouge.
At some point Sunday night, I really got into it with some guys on a forum. They were all full of ideas about what ought have been done, and when people ought to have evacuated. They've never even been here.
They have no idea what it's like here--that there's only one way out of south-east Louisiana and it's through New Orleans. A mandatory evacuation too soon would just clog the roads with people doomed to ride out the storm in their cars on the side of the road. And many New Orleanians are like New Yorkers--their identity comes from where they live, they don't want to leave, and kick up a fuss when forced to; it's better to let the southern parishes get out first.

August 29th
The storm started in the night--wind just whipping through the trees. If we had had a tornado, you'd never hear it over the wind that's pummeling everything around. I can't imagine what it's like near the eye. These are just 80ish winds with gusting--155 is hard to comprehend. The power went out early this morning; this afternoon we discovered it's because the line is down. In case you are wondering, it isn't because we didn't look out the windows, it's because with the wind and rain, we couldn't see out the windows.The wind is just fierce--it never stops. This evening it started dieing down. The silence is unnerving. Once you get used to the sound of the wind, not hearing sounds ominous. Power is out all around. Mom is listening to the battery operated radio that all good south-Louisianians have. We just want to hear word of New Orleans. Maw-maw is in Maryland at my aunt and uncle's, but we're worried about her house. Dad picked up her car on his way here Saturday after they shut the oil field in, but we don't know--she lives only two blocks from Lake Pontechartrain and with a storm like this, we're really afraid her neighborhood might have flooded.
It is so hard not to know anything. Sitting in the dark, listening to newscasters who only know what people call in and tell them. One woman called and complained for 20 minutes that her Cox Cable was still out. We were just flabbergasted. Here no one knows if an entire city has managed to survive the storm, and this woman is complaining about her cable being out. Frankly, the rest of the country probably knows more about what's happening in New Orleans than we do.

August 30th
This morning we learned that the levees broke. The city is just inundated. We don't know where Tommy is. Danny and Lynn went to Houston, but we haven't heard from Tommy at all. We don't even know where exactly the flooding is. We heard that French Quarter and Chalmette is flooded. We aren't sure about Bywater.
Later. From what we're hearing, not only is Metarie flooded (thanks to the 17th Street canal levee, etc.), but the 9th ward is flooded, too. I'm sure he evacuated, but without word. . . .There's no power anywhere, trees over roads, all of St. Bernard and Plaquemines parishes are under water. St. Tammany may be, but nobody has heard since there isn't any communication. All the cell phones are dead and land-lines are gone.
You don't really realize how important cell phones have become until you can't use them. All of these people who managed to grab their cell phones before evacuating, or climbing to the second floor, and it won't do them any good bacause all the towers are gone. Fragile. It's all so fragile.

September 1st
Tommy is in Arkansas, soon to be in North Carolina. My whole family breathed a collective sigh of relief.

September 2nd
My brother and sister and I went to a movie tonight. We've been sharing a two-bedroom, one bath trailer with a couple we vaguely know who evacuated Slidell (their house is on the north shore of Lake Pontechartrain). There is a lot of news watching--basically all the time--and I just can't take it anymore. My heart is so sickened at what people are having to endure. I'm just so overwhelmed. I needed a movie. I feel so selfish wishing for power; complaining at having to share this trailer with practical strangers. At least we have that. At least we have our own home to return to once the power goes back on. But I can't help it. Human nature winning over better impulses. I can't even imagine what it would be like to share to shelter with thousands of complete strangers; to only own a masked off square and the clothes on my back. Even for those who have homes to return to, I can't imagine the frustration of knowing that everything you own is in a flooded house that you won't be able to get back to for at least a month. Today was the day I boiled over. I reached the end of my heart. Watching these people go through another day of heat and confusion and desperation was too much for me. I stood in the shower this morning and just sobbed. What really kills me is the should-have-dones and the would-have-dones. Right. Because standing outside is just like being there. Everyone, looking back or in, has the best vision, the best plan, the best strategy.
I understand that for many people conjecturing and proclamating is the only way they can process what they are seeing. But it just makes me angry--especially when the people yipping have no idea what's really going on and who we really are. You know, the people who think Louisiana= bayous and moss, and New Orleans=Bourbon Street and jazz. It seems to be a sickness of sorts: nobody jumps on the downed cities and leaders of other places when disasters happen, but when it happens here the fault is obviously because we're stupid and don't plan anything. Of course, my response is to want to curl up in a whole, watch the news, and cry.
I've discovered through this that the news media, even to a certain extent the local news media, is like a pack that jumps on a wounded animal. There is some kind of perverse pleasure gained from only showing the bad angle, the mistake, the bad judgment call, the consequences of not planning for whatever minute detail they think should have been planned for. It would, in many ways, be much different had this not been a natural disaster. Then there would be some type of excuse, I guess. it is jsut so disheartening, though, to see the "kick 'em while they're down" attitude. Perhaps if you aren't from here, you couldn't see it so well. Instead you would see the look of sorrow and pity while a somber newscaster listed the horrible atrocities that were or might be occurring. But think about it: how many times did you hear about ineptness and then ensuing personal disasters, as opposed to things that did go right and would have gone right had the levees not broken. What few realize is that New Orleans did survive the storm. The pumps kept the city from flooding throughout the storm. Forseeing the levee breaks was beyond the powers of anyone concerned, so newscasters and others can sit around and preach what they would have done had they been there, but in reality, they would have done the same thing because they aren't psychic either.

September 4th
It appears that Tommy's house is definitely flooded. We heard that Metarie and Kenner are "drying up." That pretty much means that Maw-maw's house has had water in it. The question is how much. My aunt and uncle keep bugging Dad about them coming down with Maw-maw to check things out, etc. Dad keeps telling them there isn't anything we can do right now anyway. And no-one is going to be let in unless they have a Jefferson Parish i.d., so what exactly is the point? Plus, there isn't any power. I think it really bothers Dad that he's trying to help keep Maw-maw out of the worry zone and Ted and Lisa aren't helping. LIke any of us need the hassle of family arguments right now. Danny and Lynn have decided to go back to Maryland for now--hopefully he can get into a college up there to finish out the semester.
It seems to me that people's ideas of what has happened are either hyperbolic or understated. Either they have no idea the magnitude of the disaster, or they think it was the Apocalypse and riots of murderous gansters are roving through the waters taking over everything. Can I find someone to blame for that? Probably not. I have a feeling that a large part of that is that people often hear/see what they do through their own desired perceptions. Ted and Lisa want to believe that this was no big deal and Maw-maw will just have to air things out abit and then she'll be able to come home, so that's what they hear. After two rather long conversations, I still don't think Dad has convinced them how wrong they are.

September 6th
Well. Yesterday my siblings and I went to help out at a shelter here. We played with kids so parents could catch a break. I have so much respect for the people in this shelter. They've got nothing--many are from the inner city--yet you can see the hope and new-found pride they have. The realization that so many people want to help them has made an impact in their lives.
I was talking to a friend the other day (who was very glad that every one in my family was okay) and noting how so many poor black people have been robbed by their own "leaders." For so long they've been told that they deserve the government's help, that any problems they have are not their fault and the goverment should fix them, instead of being taught how to pick themselves up and make their own way. Now I know there are poor of all ethnicities, and many of them don't do for themselves as they ought--but black leaders have spent years crippling their own people with this dogma. Now, in a time a terrible disaster, all many of them know to do is just wait for the government. Not all, though. My favourite story is of a black man who saw an empty 18-wheeler sitting by the road, "commandeered" it, loaded as many people as he could into the back of it, and drove to Baton Rouge. That's leadership. Like he said, he knows you aren't supposed to steal a truck, but he had to start getting people out. And that if the owners wanted to get the truck back, it was right here at the gas station, they didn't need it anymore.
I continue to get so angry with the media footage--how many times can they show the same exact footage of the same looters? And you know what--most of the people are just taking food and necessities, why continuously show the ones who aren't? Why not show people grabbing water and sharing it with others over and over? Why not show the footage of volunteers with boats helping old ladies off of balocnies over and over? Why not show the 4,000 National Guard troops that have been there since the day of the storm helping people? Why do they always have to show the bad stuff over and over? Why do they only talk about the problems over and over? suddenly the media illness that has plagued the troops in Iraq (lets talk about dead bodies instead of troops helping and being helped) has struck here. I'm ranting a little I know. I'm just fed up.

September 8th
God bless every single person around this country who has given money, goods, and time to the people here and on the Gulf Coast. Americans are so giving. So giving.
Remember what I said earlier about stubborn New Orleanians? Notice that even now there are about 10,000 people who have refused to leave though given several chances. Nagan is pushing for a forced evacuation to prevent disease from breaking out. The water in the city. . .well, you only have to see a couple of pictures to figure it out. Search and resue is beginning to become body recovery, mainly on the gulf coast. The National Guard is still picking people off of roofs.
I have never ceased to be astonished and heart warmed by the massive influx of people with boats who rushed to the city to help rescue people. This is what humanity can be capable of when given grace. I watched the most unlikely heroes help families and individuals off of roofs and out of attics with no thoughts of race or economics. That is beautiful, and that is what we ought to be seeing more of. That is what brings me to my knees thinking about it every time.

September 10
We have power in our house again, thanks to some electric workers from Arkansas. They put up a new pole, restrung our line, and fixed the transformer. Bless them.

October 17
Two Saturdays ago I helped people from the shelters register at the FEMA trailer park in Baker, Louisiana. After five weeks in shelters, these people were ready to have their own space, even if it is just a travel trailer. There were, of course, a few people who were unsatisfied with anything they have been offered--finding fault in the trailer, wanting something different--but that is to be expected, really. For many, they are so frustrated with everything that they just don't feel like being nice about anything. And then there are just those who are never grateful no matter what happens to them. But for the most part, people were just genuinely happy to have something that is theirs--a space for them and their families, some privacy most of all. Some of these people were just heartbreakers--many people, including blacks (regardless of media frenzy), had to leave behind middle class jobs and middle class houses, decent schools for their kids--not that the losses of porr people are less dark for them, but somehow seeing a family used to a roomy house, people who had jobs to go to where they were useful, relegated to travel trailers was really hard. Maybe that makes me a classist, I don't know. Of course, I get very bothered by the media attention on only poor blacks. I'm not trying to deny that there is a segment of New Orleanian population that is poverty stricken, and that much of that population is black. That's true. The problem is it does such a disservice to the many--and I mean many--working class and upper class black families that have lost everything. You'd think black "leaders" would want to show the tragic losses of succesful black families instead of characaturing all black in N.O. as poor. But then, I suppose I'm execting too much. It's just irresponsible to ignore a large segment of the population as though their losses aren't important. Some of the greatest destruction was in working class and upper class subdivisions--where not only white, but asian and black families lived. And regardless of what the media seems to think, these losses are the worst for N.O. After all, these people live in these neighborhoods because they own businesses there. They are the employers of the city. Anyway, enough of my little rant. The poverty of N.O. is a terrible reality, but it isn't the only part of reality, either.
My parents went to check on my grandmother's house. It had had baout 2 and half feet of water or so in it. It won't need to be gutted, but it will need extensive work; and, she will need all new furniture. They also drove through the neighborhoods where they grew up (both of my parents grew up in N.O.). Dad said it was like a plague movie. Everything is dead--trees, grass. He said there weren't any cats or dogs, very few squirrels (which is really bizarre) and almost no birds. The water line on the house where my dad grew up in Gentily was just over the eaves--this is a house up on about three feet of pilings (like most houses there). The "no people, no pets" designation was spray painted on the top of the gable--because that's where the boat was when they got there to hack open the roof. The house had just been purchased and renovated by a young man for his soon-to-be wife. Now everything is gone, covered in mildew and bold. The house my great-grandmother used to live in is almost as bad--it was about a foot higher than my grandmother's old house. He said they drove through Lakeview and Bucktown--everything is covered in inches of mildew and dust. He said he seriously expected zombies to start appearing from behind the houses. Everything was just a bleak wasteland.
When I drove through New Orleans later, and Slidell, it was so surreal. The only way to conceivable describe the way it felt to me was to say that it seemed like everyone had suddenly vanished about ten years before. Like, "poof," they had just disappeared and left the city abandoned, that it had sat empty for years, and just now a few people were daring to return. Even that doesn't really catch it. It's the time factor. What I saw felt like it had happened over years--years--but it had happened in mere days. The creepiest of all was something my dad told me once he had returned to work. He drives up the west side of the Mississippi river from Venice, La., and crosses the river to go through New Orleans (that's the hurricane evacuation route for the southern parishes, as well). I don't know if any of you have ever seen a picture of New Orleans at night. It's beautiful--the curve of the river is so full of lights. I'll try to find a picture for you. He was coming back early in the morning, around 4, so it was dark outside. This time, he drove over the bridge to nothing. The city was completely dark. He said it was the most unsettling thing he had experienced in a long time.

I know this was a long post. But it was the best I could do. There is so much in my head and heart that I can't express. Perhaps more will come out later. I think it's very important for people to read what residents and neighbors went through--get a rounded picture. I'm out of words for now.

For some local news stories:
The Baton Rouge Advocate
http://www.nola.com

Posted by Renee at 09:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

As we speak, there is a tiny shift in the regime oppressing Cuba. Although many of us are aware (I sincerely hope) of the personal evil of fidel, few of us have had the opportunity to know or understand his brother, raul. He is, to most Americans, an unknown entity. This article by a former member of the Romanian communist regime sheds a little light on the man sliding into fidel's shoes.

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"Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together." Eugene Ionesco

While I was staying with my dear friend, Kelly, we watched Crash. Everyone should watch this movie. I wish I could show it to all of my students. I'm not here to give a critique of this movie so much as to reflect a little and apply to some recent healining events.

This movie made my soul ache. The kind of ache that has trouble finding words, and then when the words do come out, they just don't seem right. Yes, the movie is about racism; but, it's about so much more than that. It's about being human. And being angry. As I watched, I found myself wondering how I would react to the situations the characters found themselves in. Of course, I want to say that I would be a better person, that I would be more patient, that I would understand the other side of the picture. But would I? I found myself asking the questions again in the media frenzy over Mel Gibsons embarrasing outburst. What would I have done? If I were a big movie star with too much alcohol in my brain being arrested for DUI, what would I do? I have to admit that I would probably be victim to an angry outburst as well. Perhaps my verbal attack would have been differently aimed, but there would certainly have been an attack. I suppose I am admitting that we all have the potential to give in to racism, but I think so much more we all have the potential to intentially wound someone. Deep inside, we like hurting other people. It is our inherent sin nature. I've seen students do it before--forcibly wound another student, a student they actually like as a person, because they are angry with them at the moment. We are all human, filled with anguish, and in our darkest moments, we prey on that. Don't think I'm excusing anyone's selfish, hurtful, even racist behavior (though you'd be hardpressed to convince me that Gibson's actions prove he's a hardened anti_Semite). What I am saying is that we are all susceptible, especially when we aren't getting our own way. In an article in USA Today, Rabbi Irwin Kula, president of the Nation Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership, is quoted as saying that Gibson's slurs are "almost irrelevant. the more important point is: What do we learn about ourselves from incidents like this? The real issue is (what do we say) in our conversations with our children, in our boardrooms, when things get testy in our own lives, when we get pulled over by the cops. Can (Gibson's remarks) invite us all into greater awareness of our behavior when we are out of control in our own lives."

The most important thing about Gibson's foolishness isn't what it might say about him, it's what it should make us notice about ourselves. The greatest aspect of Crash isn't what it has to say about racism, it's what it has to say about humanity.

Posted by Renee at 01:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't often post politically oriented blogs--they tend to get complicated--however, when something I read really strikes me, I like to point others in that direction. Such is the case with this article. You don't have to agree with all of the President's actions or policies to appreciate what the authoress has to say. Her points are sharp and well aimed. At any rate, take a minute of your day to read it. It's worth the reflection.

Posted by Renee at 09:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

While rereading David Copperfield, I was once again struck by David's fascination and love for Dora when his obvious match mentally and emotionally is Agnes. Not there there is anything wrong with Dora--she is loving and kind and certainly endeavors to become something better than she is--yet, it is very apparent that David cannot connect with or converse with Dora on level at which he can with Agnes. In fact, reading it as a more mature person than I was the previous time, it is obvious to me that his truly deep and founded love is not for Dora at all, but is from a very early time for Agnes. So what is it that draws David to Dora? Certainly her beauty has much to do with it, and combined with her lightness of person and the fact that his early meetings with her are all under lovely conditions rather than real world circumstance, I suppose that makes for powerful persuasion. Of course, not being a guy, I'm sure I don't have a total grasp of it all, but still. I suppose it strikes me at this point more than ever because of a situation I see unfolding before me. This one hits close to home for me as the young man concerned is one of my students. I have seen him learn to exercise his reason, to think through the facts presented and make applications, to ponder, to search out truth. I have heard him answer very reasonably why Dante, while breilliant, was in doctrinal error (perhaps you see one of the directions this is going already). Yet now, I see him making two unreasoned decisions and passionately persuing them. The first is, to me, the most important, exp. since I believe the second stems from this first: a desire to join the Catholic Church. Now, before I offend anyone, my wariness comes not so much from the desire itself (though I, personally, believe the RC deviates from scripture in some important areas)--his life is his own to direct. I understand that. My problem with this desire, and my disappointment with his choice, comes from the motivations. These motivations, though he lists them out as several points, boil down to this: an emotional response to several experiences that made him feel part of a group, and a belief that an encounter with Christ had everything to do with Liturgy rather than personal humility of spirit. I have neither seen nor heard any evidence pointing to him examining the doctrine and teachings of the RC and finding himself in agreement with them. In fact, he seems to have very little knowledge of what the Church teaches. That bothers me. The majority of his encounters with the RC have come from a charismatic youth retreat centered around experience and emotion rather than factual teaching. He even argued with my sister about the existence of more than one type of Catholic service (ie: traditional, charasmatic, orthodox Latin, etc.). His response to her query as to what type of congregation he was considering joining was, "There's only one Catholic Church." True on the surface, but charismatic Catholics are very different from the conservative Catholics who still prefer the high service in Latin. If he were making a reasoned, informed choice, I would be less anxious...but I believe I've already mentioned that.
The other decision more factually mirrors the David/Dora dilemna, but flows directly out of the above issue. He's met a girl. In fact, he met her at this year's retreat, a week ago. Suffice it to say he barely knows her. He's already asked her out. The reason he likes her is that she's "amazing." When asked what he likes about her, "She's amazing." You get the picture. I have a strong suspicion that one of the "amazing" things about her is her Catholicism. In fact, lately I have noticed a trend that the only girls he mentions as being really godly and loving God are Catholic girls. Granted, "amazing" girl may be great--but how can he know from a handful of conversations, mostly, apparently, about catholicism. It seems rather like he's latching on to her because she's there and catholic, and he is now rather obsessed with the ideal of the RC. Perhaps I'm overly worried. I don't know. I just hate to see one of my kids jumping out of the boat with no life-jacket and no real understanding of why. I sense a disillusioned end looming on the horizon. I could be wrong; but, I'm always nervous when reasoned thought is excluded from the decision making process. Especially in the realm of such important decisions.

Posted by Renee at 04:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

Here's what I have learned in the last few months--particularly the last month--God made me a teacher. I suppose I should clarify. I'm a very capable secretary. I get things done. I like typing and I'm pretty good at it. I've learned a lot about the civil judicial system and how to write legal documents. My heart aches at the thought of not having any students next year. The day after my last co-op I was so glad that Oscar came in late, because when Joann, the other secretary, asked me about it being my last class I burst into tears. Yeah. Mom thinks I might jsut be in withdrawal. I think she just likes the idea of my having a secure job with a guaranteed paycheck. It isn't that I don't like this job. I like it fine. The thing is, it's just a job. Teaching is definitely my vocation. This leaves me with various questions about what I should do with myself. At this point in time, I've agreed to work for Oscar until next May--it helps with the salary issue. So...do I look for another teaching job for 07 in another state? Or, do I apply to U of Glasgow for the MA in Dramaturgy? Or do I look for another teaching job in a University town and apply for PhD part-time? Or what????????????? I hate questions about the future. And I realize that none of these questions needs to be answered immediately, but I can't help trying to figure it out so I'll know what I'm doing. What I do know is that I am using my fairly nice salary to save up for the downpayment on a house wherever I end up. Sigh.
On a different note, on the last day of World Lit we watched almost all (I skipped some uneeded scenes due to time constraints) of Depardieu's Cyrano de Bergerac. I always forget what an amazing actor he is until I watch him again. Phenominal performance. And an amazingly beautiful movie. I only had one glitch, and it's so very silly. At the very end of the play, Roxanne doesn't say, "I have only loved one man, and now I have lost him twice;" and Cyrano says, "My panache" rather than "my white plume." I know, I know. The true word is probably panache, but I love that line. At any rate, one thing I adore is viewing a film in class and at the end, the students remark how great it is--they really liked this one. In English Lit, we watched Death on the Nile. that was a pretty big hit, too. A little depressing, but they definitley enjoyed the puzzle of it all. I thought it was a good end to the class because as a novel, it incorporates much of what British Literature--and the popular British novel--was int he Twentieth Century. And as an A&E film, it was a well-done adaptation. I have many thoughts and feelings that I want to write about this past year, my heart at another end to another school term, but I can't get them out right now. I think I need to reflect on it a little more.
New thought. My baby sister graduated high school. Wow. I think she's a little overwhelmed at the thought of life opening before her. But then again, aren't we all still at times? She's also a little...frustrated that she is graduating high school and no boys like her. I know that sounds shallow--but I think it's hard to reach a milestone like that and wonder why you can't find a guy that cares for you. It's hard for me to see. There is one guy in particular that she cares for, but he's having his own struggle right now that does not include noticing a friend. I wish I could help, but I know if I got too involved, I'd just stick my foot in it. Not helpful. And it isn't like I have all the answers. :) Ah well. I think she's amazing and beautiful. I'm so glad she's my sister, and that's she's winning in life.

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Well, it has been 57 days since my last post. I apologize. Many, many things have been going on. Other than the usual filling of my time with reading, researching, writing lesson notes, I now have another job. Many of you remember a couple of years ago when I battled the state about my non-certifiable status. Because that issue has never been resolved positively, I still can't teach at any private school that receives the TOPS scholarship (even though it's a private scholarship fund, it's managed by the state at the state's discretion, and schools whose graduates receive it have to meet state standards). Last year, at the classical school, I didn't have that problem as they don't receive TOPS. Of course, for various reasons, my contract wasn't renewed there for this year, causing me to substitute and launch my homeschool co-ops. Well, near the beginning of March, I started looking around to see what I was going to do after this school year. Several people suggested I look into college-level teaching, so I was working on cover letters for my curriculum vitae when a job dropped into my lap. Not a teaching job.
I can't remember what I've written about my dad looking to sue the company that owned the oil rig, but he is. He had called and talked with several different lawyers, some old classmates of my uncle, and one of them happened to be old friends with another homeschool family we know. Mom and Dad were at physical therapy one morning when he (the lawyer) called. I answered the phone, and we had a brief conversation about why I wasn't in school, that I was teaching part-time, that I went to a Christian college in Florida (he went to Abilene Christian College), and then I took a message and hung up. I didn't think much of it until the end of the week. I came home from substituting and Mom said she had news for me. They had met with the lawyer that morning and had gotten into a conversation about why it was so hard for me to teach in Louisiana. He was flabbergasted ( I like that word) and said that I seemed nice and intelligent, did I want a job? Apparently, he had just lost his assistant, would I like the job. So, I took it. So, on the side from my co-op teaching, I am learning to run someone's else's life, mostly, and also how to work with some legal stuff. It's very interesting--not teaching--but interesting. I'm kind of accepting it as an interim. It will give me a couple of years to maybe pursue some more schooling, maybe get a little house, we'll see. So, that is why I haven't been posting as much as I ought. Once school is over, I'll have more time to post--I won't be trying to squish in my lesson work. :) At any rate, that's my brief update.
My dad is doing well. He saw the shoulder surgeon yesterday, and he said he ought to regain about half the strength in that shoulder--that the muscles are strengthening well and will make up for the loss of bone. He won't ever get full rotation, though, because the socket is gone. He also had the first couple of surgeries to rebuild his ear. They seem to be going well. I haven't seen the result as it is bandaged and I have no desire to see what's underneath right now. :p My sister had her 18th birthday last weekend. We threw a luau--it was really great. Everything went well. I made chicken and pork and this really great punch. We had pineapple and melons and sweet potatoe chips. It was a lot of fun. I can't believe my baby sister is 18. It's a very strange feeling. Sigh.
On another very brief and final note: having watched the musical of recent controversy (of which I may write more on a later date), I have a couple of things to mention: that Jesse L. Martin can really sing and I would never have guessed, that some of the most amazing and intriguing harmonies are in this film, and finally, why are those of us who have the most reason so afraid to live as though there is "no day but today"?

Posted by Renee at 12:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

So this is my post explaining that I will be posting a much longer, more reflective post in the next few days. I've been busy. The last few weeks of basketball were just crazy, but: THE VARSITY GIRLS WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!. So last week was slower, but I just didn't feel like posting--I was taking a break! Well, not really--i was also writing class notes and tests. Whew. At any rate. Here's my post. I'll be here again soon.

Posted by Renee at 07:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I had a very interesting and multi-faceted conversation with a friend the other night. We were talking about Antigone and the multiple difficulties inhernent in discussing the play, and in discussing with students who have never read Oedipus Rex. At some point, Antigone's age had become a point of discussion for the class (was she 17 or 13). That got us talking about teenagers today and how they are largely ignored. Now some of you are reacting this way: "What? But so much of society is geared toward the teenage consumer--what do you mean ignored?" True. Much of marketed products are geared toward teenaged consumers. But. How often does an adult take a teenager seriously? How often do teachers in the average school carry on discussions with their students in which the students opinions are given merit and weight? How many parents involve their teenagers in family decision making? Not enough. I think that a large part of so-called "behavioral issues" among today's student bodies can be chalked up to teenagers being ignored. Think about your high school years. How many classes incorporated serious, thoughtful discussion in which the students' thoughts/opinions were taken as serious talking points? I have a feeling not many, if you can think of any. The structure of today's classroom--despite serious modern undermining of professorial authority--is geared more like this: students sit in desks and have ideas poured into their brains by teachers who lecture most of the class and then ask basic factual recognizanze questions to discover whether or not the students are listening. Am I right? Here's a better model (and one that shows how much I agree with the classical model of education): high school students are given facts and context for what they are studying, then they learn to reason out their own ideas and opinions, and practice expressing them in class. Hmmm. In which model would teenagers feel usefull and significant? Here's the reason this matters: my friend is a graduate assistant in charge of leading discussions over reading covered in the class; he often struggles to get his college students to talk--to express their opinions and discuss them. Because the structure of most high school classrooms ignores the input of its students, when these students get into a college classroom, many of them have no idea how to form or express an opinion, but they are suddenly expected to. Now suddenly they are to be contributers, but no one has taught them how. How frustrating that is for both them and their instructors! The solution? Adults need to appreciate the significance of teenagers. This attitude that teenagers are troublesome and unreasonable needs to go. (Of course, that would be helped if we could get rid of the teachers who hate their high school students and think they are stupid--I've worked with some of these.) Don't anyone misperceive me, and say that I think teenagers are autonomous beings who are the same as adults. I don't. Teenagers still have a lot to learn, and just because you give them serious credit for their ideas and opinions doesn't mean you go along with them/agree with them/make decisions based on them. Teenagers are not adults, but they are almost adults and should be given credit for that. Teenagers have a lot to offer--adults, whether parents, teachers, or mentors, should recognize that. Ignoring the value of teenagers simply stunts their ability to interact as adults when they get there. And before they get there, it spurs them to act out to get the attention they ought to be getting for their ideas rather than their behavior. I think society would be amazed at the difference that would occur if teenagers were led down the road to adulthood with respect and consideration, rather than expecting them to be silent and swallow whatever adults hand them to swallow.

I hope all that made sense. At any rate, I try very much to treat my high schoolers as independent beings who have a great deal to contribute to my class. Their answers may not always be right, but when they aren't, we discuss why. It never fails that I have to fight against the fear of being wrong. Even with homeschooled students. There is so often a fear of saying something I won't agree with and that will be wrong. I tell my students over and over to just say what they think. Just because I don't agree with them doesn't necessarily make the answer wrong. If they can't defend their position, I'll count it wrong; but if they have good reason for their opinion, then points for them. We'll discuss it. Sometimes I learn a completely new way of looking at something because of a student. I have a broader knowledge base than my students, but I am still just as much a student as they are. If I discount their input, I rob myself and I undermine their growth. That's not saying I don't fight the temptation to always present my opinions as the absolute right answer--the power involved in being a teacher can be terribly mishandled and very narcotic--but they aren't. I've learned alot from my teenagers, and I hope above all else that I've taught them that they are valuable, they are contributors that matter in my class and in society. If other teachers did the same, if they made teenagers feel valuable rather than insignificant, imagine the adults we would be sending into the world.

Posted by Renee at 11:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Just a quick update on my dad. He's been home for a week now--it's hard to believe it's been two weeks since the accident. He is getting somewhat used to life with one arm in a sling. The surgeon isn't even going to look at it for another month and a half. Hopefully, when he does there will be significant bone regrowth. On Wednesday, he went to the Ear, Nose and Throat surgeons and they took the packing out of his ear and examined it. They said his hearing won't be damaged at all. The ear canal was damaged by the shrapnel, so they are going to repair that this coming Wednesday. After that heals, they're going to start rebuilding the outside of his ear. It's going to be a long process, though, as they have to grow the skin that they'll use to remake the ear. On the weird side, the surgery team is all very excited about the fact that it's the lower part of his ear that needs to be rebuilt--apparently it's a rare injury, usually it's the top part that needs to be fixed. Surgeons are odd. I guess I could understand, though, it's like a unique stage setting or character that you know will take just that much more effort to accomplish. Still, being excited about a weird plastic surgery task is slightly out of my normal range. :) At any rate, we're all doing well. Frankly, we're pretty much amazed at how well Dad is doing. For various reasons, we're all amazed that my dad is still alive. There's still alot of road to go, and many decisions about money and legal actions, etc. Dad wants to make the right decisions and it's a complicated situation. My uncle has really stepped up to the plate on it all and has the connections to get us the information and help we need to make the right decisions. Just keep praying for it all.

Posted by Renee at 10:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I would have updated before now, but a major earthquake has hit my family this past week.

Saturday morning, the phone rang at 3.07am. At first, I thought it was wrong number, so when I realized that my mom had answered, I rolled over to go back to sleep. Easier said than done. I had only been asleep for about two-and-a-half hours, so the jolt awake was pretty effective. As I lay there, I realized that my mom was still on the phone. My brother and sister had gone to a late movie, and I had gone to sleep before they had come home, so my first thought was that something had happened to them. I got up and went down the hall to my parent’s room. My brother was standing just inside their door. At that moment I knew that that call was about Dad. I felt a huge squinch in my gut. There must have been an accident. My dad works on an off-shore oil platform. Accidents on an off-shore oil platform are bad. Very bad. My mom was repeating directions to a hospital. So far it’s not the Other Call. Ben turns to me: “There was an accident at work. Something about Dad’s shoulder.” The squinch shrunk a little at that—after all, it didn’t sound really bad. About eight months ago, my dad separated the bicep on his right arm. --“Do you think it’s his bicep injury?” –-“I don’t know.” We waited while mom continued talking. Finally she hung up the phone. We walked into the room. She looks shaken. She started with what we know. “Dad’s been in a accident at work.” Then she added what we didn’t. “He’s at West Jefferson on the West Bank. His shoulder is injured and they need to do surgery. Tammy from [Dad’s company] and her husband are there with him.” My brother, who is more of a man than he realizes at times, said, “Do you need someone to go with you?” –-“Yes, please go with me. Renee, do you and Tina want to come.” –-“I don’t know—Christine’s still asleep—should I wake her up? What do you think would be best?” She thought for a moment. “Well, I guess just stay here with her until we know what’s going on.” –-“Okay.” Ben went to get ready. He’s kind of woozy having had less than an hour’s sleep. I helped Mom as much as I could. They were out the door by 4am saying that they would call when they got to the hospital. I went back to bed, taking the phone with me for good measure. Not like I slept very well. At 5 ‘til 6, the phone rang. Ben: “Dad is going into surgery. Apparently a compressor blew and a piece of metal severed his shoulder. The surgeon is going to go in and clean out the wound and sew his shoulder back together. He said the surgery would take about an hour-and-a-half.” –-“Do you think I should get Tina up and come?” A pause. –-“No. I guess just wait until he’s out of surgery and then we’ll see.” --“Okay. Thanks for calling. Call me when he’s out.” The squinch in my stomach had grown again. I wondered how they could repair his shoulder in only an-hour-and-a-half, but I wasn’t really awake enough to think about it much. I went back to fitful sleep. At 8am, my alarm went off—we had been planning to go see a young friend who was in the hospital here that day—and I answered the phone. Not the phone. I turned off the clock. I slipped in and out of sleep for about 20 minutes. The phone rang. It was Mom. “Dad just got out of surgery. The bone that connects his collarbone and his shoulder joint on his right arm was shattered. The surgeon said he wired it back together as well as he could. He isn’t really sure how well it will heal. He said Dad will have to wear it in an sling to keep it immobilized for 2 months and then they’ll see.” –-“So what was the injury? 2 hours doesn’t seem like very long to put a shoulder back together.” –“The surgeon talked to Ben—I had to go the bathroom, and the doctor talked to Ben—he said that the nerve bundle and the blood vessels to the arm were all intact, so he just wired what was left of the bone together and sewed the muscles back over it.” Relief surged through me. When Ben had said “severed,” I was afraid of the worst—intricate nerve and blood vessel re-attachment, and maybe not being able to use his hand. . . . Then she said something about an ENT surgeon looking at his face. “His face was hit with shrapnel, too, but he said they can fix everything.” That was vague. Oh well. “Dad’s in surgical recovery, but if you two leave soon, by the time you get here, he should be in a room.” I woke up my sister with “Get up, Tina. We’ve had a busy night and need to go to New Orleans.” –-“Why are we going to New Orleans?” –-“I’ll tell you when I get out of the shower, so just get up and get going.” When I got out of the shower, I briefly explained what had happened and where we were going. She immediately went to get ready. By 9 we were on the road. While we were on the way, Ben text messaged my sister to let her know that Dad looked bad—that the shrapnel had gashed the right side of his face and severed much of his right ear. I can’t even explain how weird it was to see my dad lying in that hospital bed. He was really pale. His face was stitched, his arm bound up and his shoulder bandaged. My dad is a big, strong man who’s made his living working hard at a dangerous outside job. It was very unsettling to see him so helpless. Since Saturday morning, we’ve gotten the rest of the story. Apparently it happened while Dad was doing his rounds (checking the oil wells and natural gas compressors) around midnight. Just as he walked into the compressor room, one of the gas compressors blew. Dad believes that it was a valve from the compressor (a 200 pound piece of metal) that flew into his shoulder, nearly severing it completely, and then ricocheted into his face. He blacked out for a minute and then woke up in a pool of blood. He found the glasses that had blown off his face, looked at his shoulder and then realized that he had to get out of the room immediately—the compressor was releasing thousands of cubic feet of natural gas into the room. He held his shoulder together and crawled up the stairs to the living quarters on the upper deck. When he couldn’t get the door open, he kicked it until the mechanic woke up and came to the door. Tom called for a medivac while Dad held a bag of frozen rice on his shoulder. My dad is amazing. I can’t even imagine what that was like—and have avoided thinking about it too much. I have also tried very hard to avoid thinking about how close we were to the Other Call. If my dad hadn’t woken up when he did. . . if he hadn’t been able to get up the stairs. . .if Tom hadn’t heard him soon enough. . .if this had been last year when Dad was on a platform by himself. . .he would have died. The surgeon told my brother that my dad narrowly missed death in the actual accident. I can’t even begin to understand how close the line was: if he had walked into the room a moment before or a moment later. . .if his arm had been in a different place. . .if his head had been at a different angle. . .if he had been looking in a different direction. . .if his body were turned any other way at any other moment he wouldn’t have even made it ought of the room. My God is amazing.

As of today, my dad is completely off of the morphine. Amazing considering how many times he was having to dose himself a couple of days ago. The plastic surgeons have all said that there should be no problem rebuilding his ear to look almost natural. His facial nerves are all intact. He can move his fingers and flex his bicep. The main concern at this point is getting his blood count back to where it should be, avoiding infection, and how the bone is going to heal since the surgeon couldn’t find all the pieces. My mom is doing okay—she’s staying at the hospital with him. We can’t make it every day since it’s about 2 hours away from here. It’s good hospital, though, so it’s all right. They are talking about moving him this weekend, though. Please pray for us. Pray for my mom. This is so hard mostly because we’ve always known something like this could happen, but we never really expected it. Pray that my dad doesn’t get too restless—he likes to be doing things, and being in bed isn’t so good for him. Pray for my grandmother—I think she was really shaken seeing my dad like that. Pray for guidance, as there is many things that need to be taken care of because of this. Pray for healing. Pray for my brother since he started spring classes—he needs to focus. I know we’ll be all right, but it’s going to be long road for all of us.

Posted by Renee at 10:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I hope that everyone had a blessed and wonderful Christmas Day. I hope you took time to pause in the rush and contemplate the awesome wonder of God choosing to be born as a humble human baby. I think so often we rejoice in the beauty of the Advent, yet we don't often stop think what it really meant for Yeshua. He is God--He is the Supreme Deity of the universe--He created the universe with his voice--He governs each one of us, each finite and flawed being of us--and He chose to set that position aside, to become a finite being of Earth. To say that it is similar to a human choosing to become an earthworm, doesn't even grasp the entire truth of the situation. I'm not sure that any human truly can comprehend what Yeshua was choosing when He chose to be a baby human, to grow up as a human, to submit to death as a human. Phenominal. I hope you thought of that just a bit. And I hope, in that pause, in that thought, that you looked upon the Cross. I hope that you remembered that the joyous beauty of the Advent is only joyous and beautiful because its purpose--its culmination--was the Sacrifice. Without the Sacrifice--Divinity offering itself for sinful, foolish, helpless humanity--the Advent would not have occured. It would have been unnecessary. Take a moment to gaze upon the baby in the manger--fully God yet fully man--and then, for a moment, gaze upon the man on the cross. That is the meaning of Christmas. Let it light your soul.

Posted by Renee at 02:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So it's been awhile since I've posted--mainly just because I've been lazy. ah well. My aim is to make up for that by posting alot today! How does that sound. I have several thoughts to put down today, and two of them based on statements run across in Harry Potter, I suppose I'll start there.
Watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for the third, yes third, time yesterday, I was able to be struck by several statements in a more particular way. The one that really grabbed me occured about halfway through. For those who have never read or seen this book/movie, it centers mainly around the Tri-Wizard Tournament, a very dangerous and famous competition held every few years between the three main wizarding schools. Not long after the second task, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, is found mysteriously dead on the Hogwarts' school grounds. Dumbledore, the Headmaster, tries to convince the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, that the Tournament should be stopped. Fudge replies, "But what will people think?" Dumbledore's very astute answer is this: "A true leader does what is right regardless of what people think." That really struck me. I going to wax a little political now. In the last few years, much media emphasis has been placed on opinion polls--and not just with W., I believe the trend really began to amplify under Clinton. But now, of course, we end up hearing so much about them, and whether W. is getting good numbers, and whether his policies are popular. As though that really mattered. The fact is that Dumbledore is absolutely right--true leaders don't give a rip about opinion polls, they care about whether or not their policies are what they believe is the right thing to do. A politician (or authority figure of any kind, really) who changes their positions and policies to reflect what people like is not a leader. Whether I agree with W., or any other leader, should not affect what he believes to be right. Granted, we live in a country where we, individual people, have more say in the political and legislative process than in most countries in the world. I'm not criticizing that at all--it is basically the best political structure around. The problem comes when we decide that having a strong say automatically means that our leaders should bow to our every whim or fascination. Wrong. I have the utmost respect for leaders who stand for what they believe, even if what they believe is diametrically opposed to what I believe. If they have a reasoned-out position that they are willing to stand for regardless of what other people say, I respect them. The "leaders" that I do not respect are those who take their cues from opinion polls; those who walk around with their finger in the wind to see where they should take a stand today. So then my point--while I don't always agree 100% with W. on every issue, on every policy, I respect him greatly because he has done, and is continuing to do, what he believes is right regardless of what opinion polls or media commentators say. That takes guts. If people want to criticize him, they should do so based on the facts or on the reasons, but not on whether or not people agree with him or like him. That is a ridiculous criticizm to adopt. And furthermore it seriously weakens the position of leadership because people start to believe that leaders are merely to be a spokesperson for our opinions, and leaders are never merely that, esp. in difficult times. Leaders are those who choose to stand for right, regardless.
Next point, and another HP quotation. This is from Book 5, so those going only by the movies will get a sneak peak--no spoilers though. In Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix we meet the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dolores Umbridge. At the end of Book 4, we watched as Lord Voldemort, a very evil and dangerous Dark Wizard trying to rule the world (as all the truly great villains so), has regained a physical body. The war between good and evil is back on the table, and danger is ever-present. The Ministry of Magic, however, is choosing not only to ignore this, but to attempt to discredit Harry's and Dumbledore's statements about LV every chance they get. It is to this end (and to place a spy at the school), that the Ministry has placed Miss Umbridge in the D.A.D.A. position. Of course, if what Harry and Dumbledore have anounced is true, Defense is probably the most important subject at the school now. But Miss Umbridge sets out to make it as harmless and impotent a subject as possible. On the first day of class she announces the changes by stating that the regular turnover of teachers, "many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum" has critically hampered the students in light of their upcoming Ordinary Wizarding Levels (exams--think Standard Achievement Tests). But no worries, this year "We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year." Notice the twice repeated "Ministry-approved." She then lists her aims for the course: "1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can be legally used. 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use." She then sets them to read a chapter in their textbook. Hermione Granger, however, has noticed something significant--the lack of mention of practicing the spells. In other words, Umbridge has no plans for application of anything they will be learning. This seems to be a serious oversight--after all, reading about theories and facts does not automatically lend one success when the time might come to use what one has learned. One must practice application, right? Not according to Umbridge. Her final statement on the matter: "It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about." and then "As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions." So, why did I write all of this? Those who know me fairly well, already have an idea. Let me say right now, I have no argument with teaching theory and basic fact in a classroom--you have to. And, in fact, in the younger grades, that is mainly what you can teach. Youngsters aren't terribly good at out-of-the-box, abstract thought. However, the modern educational structure/system/theory is imbued with this same idea that the theoretical is enough to pass exams, so why bother with anything else. What it comes down to is this: is the purpose of a K-12 education merely to pass? or is it to train children to think and succeed in the real world? It's a serious question. It seems that the main idea that surrounds the education process these days is that as long as they graduate/pass, it's okay. But at what cost? Of course, we've all heard the dilemma of teachers feeling pressured to "teach the test," but I would question the entire emphasis of modern educational philosophy. The entire structure of modern ed. is centered around "teaching the test," just in a more subtle way. Educational textbooks are filled with watered-down, inoffensive sound bites and politically correct story problems, but very little meat to stimulate independent thought and analysis. We teach a novel so they will know the story and the facts, but how many teachers use literature to analyse the world we see around us? We teach history to know what happened before (although ideas of deconstruction have led to teaching "social studies"--facts about cultures--rather than history), but how many teachers connect what happened in the past with the reasoning behind today's culture and politics. The fact is that modern education at all levels has stagnated. By removing practical application of the theory-centered approved curricula, educators have crippled the thought processes of students. In order to avoid some mythical "offense," students have been cheated out of learning to make connections between their education and their every-day lives. Because of this, many students do not see the value of their education; they do not think it matters to them as people. Their education is merely some letters on a report card that may influence how much money they will make, rather than being a key to understanding and developing themselves as individual humans. They have no practical tools to apply knowledge. Just as Prof. Umbridge's students were just reading about some defensive spells rather than learning to actually defend themselves, many of today's students are merely learning some facts, rather than how/why they are the products of these facts history and literature and science and mathematics. By high school, education ought to be about more than learning facts to pass tests, it ought to be about using facts to understand ourselves, what we believe, and the world around us. I think the philosophy of the Ministry and Prof. Umbridge is exactly what we see in the system around us: safety rather than understanding. And as both the M and P.U. are actively working to blind people to truth while denying what they both know to be true, I think it is intended to be, as is, a very accurate criticism of the modern debacle that is the educational system. (I won't single out public education in this, b/c many private schools are slipping down that path, as well.) Something on which to think, eh?
This is a segue. I now have a small stack of papers to grade. Yes! I did an interesting experiment on my World Lit students. Having more time and ... thoughfulness ... in this class than in others I have taught, I had my students write a critical analysis of Oedipus Rex using as their basis for comparison Aristotle's Ars Poetica. Interesting, huh? Frankly, I think it would be easier to have a basis of critique than otherwise, as you have specific points to deal with and a particular viewpoint already there for you. But I guess I won't know that until I assign another analysis without a comparison ideal. We shall see. We also had a very lively discussion about Socrates and Plato in class. the insistence of Socrates on defining terms being necessary to discussing them, and that words have particular meaning and misusing them corrupts any debate. My students, very astutely, saw a significant cultural application with both those ideas. They are very aware that the culture around us has become rife with the misuse and careless use of words, and that it has hampered our ability to accurately and effectively communicate. Socrates stated that the misuse of words led to a corruption of the soul. I tend to agree with him. The Platonic Ideal was also a very interesting point of discussion. I am personally fascinated by it, which helps. The basic idea, for those who aren't familiar, is that what we see around us in not truly real--it is not the ultimate reality, but a corruption--a shadow, if you will--of an ideal that exists beyond what we see around us. For example, the chair you are now sitting in is not the actual, ultimate chair, but a shadow of an ideal chair that exists beyond us. Sounds kind of strange, doesn't it? Yet then I introduced the spiritual into the conversation--is the world that we see around us the perfect world? No. Is it then the reality that God created? Well, no--it is corrupted by the Fall. Excellent. Therefore, is it safe to say that the world we see around us is a corrupted shadow of the ideal in the mind of God that He will recreate in the future? Well, yes. It was a very interesting discussion indeed. Certainly, I wouldn't wholeheartedly advocate everything Plato wrote as true--we have, obviously, widely differing religious foundations which therefore leads to different conclusions and applications. But. . .he wasn't wrong when he realized that our reality is merely a shadow of Truth. That the corporeal world around us is not all there is to see, and that wisdom comes in seeking the Truth behind/beyond the shadows. Hmmm.
All right. Final thoughts--the girls' basketball team is 3-1 so far (the one ought to be a 0--seriously, you should have seen the game. :{ ). They are playing so very well now. I finally read Kim by Rudyard Kipling. Very interesting. I just may embark on an India kick very soon (two summers ago I was on an Africa kick--I read about 8 books set in Africa in a row). I think A Passage to India may be next--I've already seen the movie, so it's a less daunting project than it was the last time I thought about it. I've also just finished a very interesting and informative book entitled A Matter of Basic Principles. It is an excellent and reasonable criticism of Bill Gothard's Institute of Basic Life Principles and Advanced Training Institute (the homeschool curricula branch of IBLP). Not everyone who reads this blog will have heard of this, but many of you will--this book is worth the read. The authors have raised several impressive objections as talking points, and very soundly defended their criticism. It is not an emotional rant or an unfounded personal dissection as many criticisms are these days. It is a carefully thought out and reasonable approached examination of several key cracks in the foundation of Gothard's system. Definitely worth the time.
And very lastly--since odds are pretty favourable that I won't post again before Sunday (We'll see), I will wish everyone a very blessed Christmas. It is the day to mark the birth of He who gave us the greatest and most necessary example of sacrificial love. Revel in it.

Posted by Renee at 11:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I had to post this. I have to give credit for finding the story to someone else [ Babalu Blog].
Really, whatever your position on war in general or the War on Terror, Vonnegut's comments are just beyond the pale.

US author lauds suicide bombers
David Nason, New York correspondent
19 Nov 2005

ONE of the greatest living US writers has praised terrorists as "very brave people" and used drug culture slang to describe the "amazing high" suicide bombers must feel before blowing themselves up.

Kurt Vonnegut, author of the 1969 anti-war classic Slaughterhouse Five, made the provocative remarks during an interview in New York for his new book, Man Without a Country, a collection of writings critical of US President George W. Bush.

Vonnegut, 83, has been a strong opponent of Mr Bush and the US-led war in Iraq, but until now has stopped short of defending terrorism.

But in discussing his views with The Weekend Australian, Vonnegut said it was "sweet and honourable" to die for what you believe in, and rejected the idea that terrorists were motivated by twisted religious beliefs.

"They are dying for their own self-respect," he said. "It's a terrible thing to deprive someone of their self-respect. It's like your culture is nothing, your race is nothing, you're nothing."

Asked if he thought of terrorists as soldiers, Vonnegut, a decorated World War II veteran, said: "I regard them as very brave people, yes."

He equated the actions of suicide bombers with US president Harry Truman's 1945 decision to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.

On the Iraq war, he said: "What George Bush and his gang did not realise was that people fight back."

Vonnegut suggested suicide bombers must feel an "amazing high". He said: "You would know death is going to be painless, so the anticipation - it must be an amazing high."

Vonnegut's comments are sharply at odds with his reputation as a peace activist and his distinguished war service. He served in the US 106th Division and was captured by German forces at the Battle of the Bulge.

Taken to Dresden and held with other POWs in a disused abattoir, Vonnegut witnessed the appalling events of February 13-14, 1945, when 800 RAF Lancaster bombers firebombed the city, killing an estimated 100,000 civilians.

The experience inspired his book Slaughterhouse Five - the title of the novel coming from the barracks he was assigned in the POW camp. The book became an international bestseller and made Vonnegut a luminary of the US literary left.

But since Mr Bush was elected, Vonnegut's criticisms of US policy have become more and more impassioned.

In 2002, he was widely criticised for saying there was too much talk about the 9/11 attacks and not enough about "the crooks on Wall Street and in big corporations", whose conduct had been more destructive.

The following year he wrote that the US was hated around the world "because our corporations have been the principal deliverers and imposers of new technologies and economic schemes that have wrecked the self-respect, the cultures of men, women and children in so many other societies".

But Vonnegut's latest comments are likely to make many people wonder if old age has finally caught up with a grand old man of American letters.

© The Australian

(H/T Mike Pancier)

Posted by Renee at 12:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, in keeping with my belated Veteran's Day entry, I thought I should have a very belated entry dedicated to Rosa Parks. Frankly, Ms. Parks has always been someone I greatly respected. She stood up for what was right even though it wasn't convenient. Her legacy is something that ought to be honored and upheld. Unfortunately, as Boston Globe columnist Derrick Jackson writes, the modern rap culture is steadily eroding what she fought for--oppurtunity for African-Americans to excell. He, of course, says it much more eloquently and pointedly than I can.

Continue reading "Rosa Parks" »

Posted by Renee at 02:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Sorry this is a day late--Yesterday was frenetically crazy--but I wanted to post this. The speech is excellent, the sentiment unmatched. I hope everyone took the time yesterday--everyday--to thank God for our veterans. I hope you were able to thank one of them. What they have given in every war, this one included, is unmatched. They fight so we don't have to. They fight so that we can absorb the benefits of freedom--our own, our neighbours', our fellow humans'.

Continue reading "Vice President's Remarks at a Remembrance Ceremony for Veterans Day" »

Posted by Renee at 05:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Right now, I'm busily trying to learn about changing pizel-size on my Katrina pics so that I can post them. I thought I had a solution figured out by using a paint program, but then I realized it leaves a big white space around the picture. Hmm. I'll get it figured out.

On a different note, Friday night was the BRCCS Victorian Ball. Sounds nerdy, I know, but it's really a killer good time. It requires dressing to the nines (either in Victorian wear or modern formal wear), and participating in dances that actually require steps and twirling. It's fantastic. I took my brother because I couldn't find a date in the short amount of time I had--we did have a basketball scrimmage that night, but it was cancelled on Monday. The problem I usually find is that my circle of high-school graduated guys is rather limited. Of those, there are only a few who are single, and even fewer who wouldn't be weirded out or overly-analytical about my asking them to a ball. And those were busy. But my brother is a sweetheart to go with me--he just doesn't dance. :p Oh well. I danced. At any rate, the ball was very much fun, so I thought I would share.

As soon as I teach myself how to resize my pictures, they will be up.

Posted by Renee at 01:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Here are some pictures from New Orleans and Slidell. They pretty much speak for themselves.

Continue reading "photographs" »

Posted by Renee at 01:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Here it comes--the wind and rain have already begun. Rita is big enough that even though she's hitting west of us (right around Lake Charles--on the La./Tx. border) we're going to really get some rain. And some wind. For those of you who don't know, the east side of the storm is the bad side--which is why Baton Rouge is probably going to get winds and rain as bad as Katrina even though Rita isn't as bad of a storm/farther away. This, again, bodes ill for New Orleans. While the rain will help wash away the gunk, rain is also not the best thing for a city just trying to dry out right now. I certainly hope all those people stuck on the interstate in Texas are managing to find a way out--I'm not really sure why there wasn't a contra-flow plan in effect, but. . . . I think more people than expected were evacuating due to Katrina. One thing that is good is that on that side of Louisiana, there aren't a whole lot of people/towns south of the interstate--unlike east La. Unfortunately, Beaumont, Tx., is a lot closer to the Gulf than any La. cities of that size. The rain is really pouring down here right now, and the storm isn't officially going to hit until late tonight. Please keep everyone affected in your prayers. Now we just have to wait and see what happens.

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So I have two jobs right now--well, three, but two of the three are teaching, so I don't count them. Substituting for all elementary grades is really weird. I did pre-K on Tuesday--wow. People always seem flabergasted when I say I teach high school, and that I like it, but I can't imagine how anyone could manage teaching 4-yr-olds all day every day. It's exhausting. You have to be involved with them every minute. I loved nap time! Not that I don't like 4-yr-olds--I love them, they're adorable; but teaching them is such a different experience. Tomorrow I'm teaching art to 5-8 graders and then covering afternoon Kindergarten. Wow. The other half of my teaching, the home school co-ops, is interesting, too. So far I've had two weeks of classes--I think they've gone all right. My sister is taking one class and sitting through the other (she didn't cover all the same literature when she took World Lit) and so far she hasn't said she hated it, so. . . .I feel like it's going well. The kids aren't afraid to answer my questions, they're really seeming to get into the literature and the ideas behind it. It's really exciting. I'm really enjoying myself.

Second job--I'm using my two days off to volunteer at The Healing Place Church. They have a couple of shelters at their campuses and they're running a volunteer crew through PRC Compassion. So, I go down there and do whatever is needed. Today I sorted clothes donations. That was interesting--but the people I worked with were really great. It was a really blessed time. This afternoon, a lady came out to help who is from Kenner. She and her husband are staying here with friends--they had 4 feet of water in their house and part of the attic collapsed. She just decided she couldn't sit around having a pity party any more, she had to get out and do something. She was truly wonderful. Everywhere I go there are so many evacuees. For those of you who only know about N.O. through movies and t.v. shows, forget everything you think. People from N.O. have a very distinct way of talking. Perhaps you've gotten a taste from news recent news reports, but they sound kind of like someone from Queens with a dash of Brooklyn and sometimes the slightest tinge of Cajun--but not much. It's wonderful. I love to hear it. It's so strange, though, to go into Wal-Mart and hear the person in line behind you with a Chalmette accent. It's like a situational irony of some kind. It's weird. But in a good way. In a way that reminds me of the vitality of the region and how much people still need.

So, my uncle's close friend, Jack, is a contractor in Mandeville. He was able to get into Jefferson and go to my grandmother's house and check everything out. She had about two feet of water in her house. It's like a punch in the stomach to think about everything that's lost. But at least her house is intact. And at least now we know. Jack took pictures for the insurance company and then ripped out all the flooring, the sheetrock 3 feet up, and the insulation and threw in all in the back yard. Then he threw the refrigerator and second freeezer in the yard with it. He left it in the yard for the insurance inspector just to be sure. It's such a relief to know he's done all that. We're hoping Dad's truck that was parked outside is undriveable, and that Maw-maw's homeowners insurance will cover it. I guess we'll see.

So that's what's going on here. Step-by-step things are moving toward hope. But there's so much. . .so much. I am so touched--we are all so touched--with all the help that's been/being sent from around the country. Not just money--police, firemen, doctors, volunteers, I know that people here--esp the New Orleanians--are truly overwhelmed by it all--and so thankful. I am always so astonished by how giving Americans are. I know it in my head, but seeing it in person is just amazing. I don't care how the main-stream-media likes to portray the bad things in this country--the criminals, the predators, the idiocy--Americans are wonderful people, with huge hearts. Huge hearts. Don't forget it.

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I've been out of town and also unpacking recently--not really updating my blog. I apologize for my totally irresponsible sabbatical. :0) This isn't really a proper update, but just a short summary. I will write a real update this week. Hold me to it! I spent 10 days with my dear friends in North Carolina. It is such a blessing to me to visit with them. And I got to see the ocean! That is very important to me. While I was there I was asked for specific differences between the basic Christian school education and the classical Christian education. I am ashamed to admit that I fumbled it. Hmmm. Time to go back to the books, eh? I have the books to refresh my brain cells on that, it's just a matter of balancing that with the basketball coaching book I'm in the middle of and my next week's goal of roughing out my lesson plans and book list for the home school co-ops. (Before people start calling and asking me about it.) But it is an important comparison. I realized that just like I can point-by-point (for the most part) run down the basic attributes of a classical education, I need to have a point-by-point comparison in my head to answer the questions of friends and strangers. Ah, a new project. At any rate, when I finish that, I will put it on here. And at some point I'd like to squeeze in a few movie reviews as well. War of the Worlds and Charlie... among others. So what I really need to do is buckle down and motivate myself. Yipee. (some slight sarcasm to be inserted there.)

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I suppose it's time for an update on my summer so far. It has been both busy and not so busy. :) I spent the first week doing. . . NOTHING! Yay! And then I started to make myself more productive. So, what does being productive look like? Well, it's a combination of sorting through attic boxes to get rid of and consolidate stuff. I'm really amazed at all the stuff I have accumulated. It doesn't bode well for the future. After all, I'm only 26 now. Yikes. So, I'm trying to get rid of stuff and better organize other stuff. Right now my room is a disaster. First, of course, you have to take all the stuff out of the box/plastic container in which it has been comfortably living for several years. Then, you have to spread it all out and look at it. Next, you must determine what group of items you aren't really sure why you saved and pitch them. Once that is finished, you must determine which group of stuff will go back into the box. Now you have extra space in the box (which is the point, really) so you empty a second box and repeat the aforementioned steps, placing as many of the remaining items as reasonably belong into the first box. First box goes back into the attic. Now you have some random stuff just sitting there waiting for a box. Right now my room is in "random stuff sitting around waiting for more box emptying" phase. It isn't pretty. Also, I tend to get frustrated with it all once I have everything scattered around. I want to quit. I want to just live in the junk. Then I realize--it's driving me nuts. It must be cleaned. And so I keep at it. I really hate it all. I need a house. Sigh.

The other face of productivity around here is the paint-the-doors-b/c-they-really-need-it face. My sister and I are collaborating on this phase of work. Then we get to paint the garage. It's hot outside. But, I like painting. And when I get tired of it all, I go swimming. It's hard to beat that.
The other thing of mild interest that I've done so far this summer: I flew to Nashville for a friend's wedding. That was a good time. I got to see some friends I hadn't seen in about three years. Wow. It was good to talk to them. The wedding was lovely. The reception was very casual--held at this. . .I don't know what to call it. . .like a covered barn barbeque hoe-down place. It was really neat. Not really at all what I would have expected at Juli's wedding, but it was fun. And of course, we had a great time "decorating" the car. :) Of course I also made time to go see the Grand Ole Opry. I didn't have time to take the tour, though. :( Oh well. I guess that means I'll have to go back to Nashville someday.

Next week, I'm flying to Wilmington, NC for a ten-day trip to visit my dearest friends Kelly and Justin. I'm rather excited b/c I get to see their new house! At any rate. In between all of this, I've slipped in some time to start planning my curriculum for next year's co-op classes. Right now it's all a little directionless, but I'm getting a handle on what works/philosophies I want to cover. It helps that I've taught World Lit before, but I'm still wanting to cover everything--not exactly feasible--so the hard part is deciding which things best represent the various literary traditions and philosophies of the world. British Lit is just expansive. It's easier though because it flows chronologically, so it's jsut a matter of choosing the best pieces from each period of lit. Sigh. I know I'm going to feel totally unprepared regardless of how well I prepare. That's just the way it goes!

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It is extremely hot outside right now--okay, not so much at this actual moment, but todayish in general. I have been mainly doing nothing. :) Saying goodbye to my kids was incredibly really very difficult. I'm not sure what's worse: sobbing 5th/6th grade girls, crying middle school boys, or upper school boys that want to cry but won't because they still think it isn't "cool and manly." I will be seeing many of them again, though--Lauren Cooper asked if I wanted to take the paid-on-call-substitute job for Tuesdays and Fridays, and I said yes. I'm going to try my hand at teaching World Lit and Brit Lit co-op classes for home school high schoolers (that's a mouthful). Since my car is paid off, I don't have a whole lot of billage to pay (just insurance, really), so I have some leeway. Frankly, it is the best time to change lanes in my career, I guess. I think I'm also going to try my hand at some freelance writing. We'll see how that goes. It means I need to renew my brain in the area of Rhetorical teaching--quite different from the grammar teaching I've been doing. Of course, there will be some grammar aspects involved, but overall. . . .
. . .I've also decided that it would have been incredibly difficult for me to be at the school without my high schoolers. They've been such an indispensible part of my day. I'm overwashed in prayer for them always, but expecially now. I am worried about losing my connection/influence. I have faith that most of them will do fine, but a couple of them. . .well, I worry for them. I worry that their priorities are misaligned--resulting in regretful decision-making. We shall see, I suppose. They are in God's hands much more than they have been/will ever be in mine. There's so much I wish I could say to them all--but I'm afraid it would be horribly sappy and thus embarassing to the boys. Heaven forbid they should be embarrassed by their teacher. :) I have been so touched by them all. each one of them has taught me so much about myself--at least as much as I learned about them. Each one of them was a blessing to me. And each one of them has so much potential to succeed in whatever they put their mind to. What always discourages me is when they think they're dumb and average. As if. I hope and pray that they realize the potential and talent they have. I hope they seek to fulfill the desires and dreams God has given them. If they don't have any dreams, yet, I hope they ask Him for the desires and dreams He has for them. I hope and pray, above all, that they seek every day to become them men and women of God that they can be. After all, that is the greatest potential they can fulfill, and our culture so often steals the motivation for excellence and godliness. If I knew how to tell each one of them these things without being "cheesy," I would. Lastly, I hope I was as much of a blessing to them as they were to me. And even that they learned something! I miss them terribly already. Why exactly does God make letting go so difficult?

On a different note--I just spent whole lot of money to go to a wedding next weekend. yippee! Okay, so I'm looking forward to going a seeing friends I haven't seen in years, but it's hard to spend that much money for a two-day trip. Sheesh. Especially since I just spent an even larger amount of money for my 10-day trip to N.C. later this summer. I wish travelling were free! Of course, I suppose we all do. Such is life. People have to make money, and stuff is expensive.

On an even different note: between my last post and this, I saw the new Star Wars movie. Wow. It was phenominal. I really enjoyed it. The story was impressive. Even though you knew what Anakin would eventually decide, his path is surprising. You can't help hoping he will, somehow, stick with what he knows is right. But he doesn't . He wants to control fate too badly. His love has a defecTITLE: the inabilty to let go of what he loves. An all too human defect, I'm afraid. But previous loss has made him afraid to lose what he loves--possessive to an extreme that leads him to betray what is right for the promise of playing God to keep what he loves. Such a poignant reminded that all we have on earth is temporary, and we should be prepared to relinquish it at the proper times. This is exponentially true for Christians. Watching Anakin's descent into darkness was almost more than I could take--it was so dark and seemingly irrevocable. Yet, even near the end, when Obi-wan confronts him, he could have walked away from the darkness--such a picture of the availabilty of redemption. But he refuses, instead wallowing in his hatred and bitterness and false paranoia--such a picture of the sinful nature of man. It is a wrenching movie. The parallel between Padme's death and Anakin's "death"/return as Vader is beautiful and heartbreaking. I was so emotionally exhausted by the movie. I also had to come home and watch "Episode 4" (as it is now known) to renew my heart. I will say the end of the movie does give the glimmer of hope that is brought to life in the next movie. And it does so flawlessly. I was astounded and washed away by this movie. It should be seen. I will also say that the movie not only presents an introspective examination that is sharp and skilled, it also reminds us what liberty truly is worth. And that peace at any price is oppression. A reminder much needed in an age when we are told to keep to ourselves and mind our own business; that maintaining peace is the ultimate goal we should have, justice and right be damned. Though I would not go so far (as Padme almost does) as to say that all war is a failure of diplomacy, I think the movie makes a strong case for listening as well as for not sacrificing liberty and justice on the altar of peace. It's good stuff.

Anyway.

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So, since school is over, but I don't feel like updating in a serious way today, here's something totally random I stole from one of my sister's friend's blogs.

Put a * by the ones you have seen ...
(btw, this is a really long list; sheesh)

10 Things I Hate About You
13 Ghosts
13 going on 30*
2 Fast 2 Furious
2001: A Space Odyssey*
50 First Dates*
A Beautiful Mind
A Bronx Tale
A Chorus Line*
A Cinderella Story
A Clockwork Orange
A Day at the Races
A League of Their Own*
A Lot Like Love
A Nightmare on Elm Street
A Series Of Unfortunate Events*
A Walk to Remember
a.i. - Artificial Intelligence
African Queen, The*
Almost Famous
Along Came A Spider
Along Came Polly
Amelie
American Beauty
American History
American Pie
American Pie 2
American Wedding
An Affair To Remember*
Anger Management*
Arsenic and Old Lace*
Aviator, The*
Back to the Future*
Bad Boys 2
Battle Royale
Beautiful Thing
Bedazzled
Before Sunrise
Before Sunset
Bend it Like Beckham
Best in Show
Big Lebowski, The
Big Trouble in Little China
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure*
Billy Madison*
Blade Runner
Blazing Saddles
Blue Velvet
Boogeyman
Boondock Saints
Bound
Braveheart
Breakfast Club, The*
Bride of Chucky
Bring it On
Bringing Up Baby*
Bruce Almighty*
Buckaroo Banzai
Burbs, The*
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
But I'm A Cheerleader
Butterfly Effect, The
Calendar Girls
Catch Me If You Can
Cat's Meow, The
Chances Are
Charlie's Angels
Charlie's Angels 2
Chasing Amy
Chicago*
Children of the Corn
Child's Play
Chocolat*
Christine
Chuck and Buck
Citizen Kane
Clerks
Closer
Coffee And Cigarettes
Collateral
Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen
Conspiracy Theory*
Country Girl
Cowboy Way, The
Coyote Ugly
Crossroads
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*
Cruel Intentions
Cujo
Darkness Falls
Dawn Of The Dead
Day After Tomorrow, The
Dead Poet's Society*
Deep Impact
Defying Gravity
Dick
Dodgeball
Dogma
Donnie Darko
Doom generation, The
Drop Dead Gorgeous
Dude, Where's My Car?
Dumb & Dumber
Dumb & Dumberer
Dune*
Eight Crazy Nights
Elizabeth*
Ella Enchanted*
Emma*
Empire Records
ET*
Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind
Event Horizon
Ever After*
Evil Dead Two: Dead by Dawn
Exorcist, The
Fast & The Furious, The*
Ferris Bueller's Day Off*
Fifth Element, The
Fight Club
Final Destination
Final Destination 2
Finding Nemo*
Finding Neverland*
Forrest Gump*
Frailty
Freaky Friday*
Friday Night Lights
Friday The 13th
From Hell
Galaxy Quest*
Garden State
Gattaca
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes*
Ghost Ship
Gladiator *
Gone With The Wind *
Goodbye Girl, The
Goodbye Lenin
Goonies, The
Gosford Park
Gothika
Grease*
Grinch, The*
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?*
Guildenstern and Rosencrantz are Dead
H20
Hairspray
Halloween
Halloween 2
Halloween 3
Halloween 4
Halloween 5
Halloween: the Resurrection
Hannibal
Happy Gilmore*
Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets*
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban*
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone*
Heavenly Creatures
Hellboy*
Hero*
Hildago*
His Girl Friday
Hitch*
Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, The*
Holiday
Hot Chick, The
House of Flying Daggers
House of Sand and Fog
House of Wax
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days*
Howard the Duck
Huck Finn *
I <3 Huckabees
I Am Sam
I, Robot*
Identity
If Lucy Fell
Igby Goes Down
I'm Gonna git you Sucka
Incredibles, The*
Independence Day*
Indiana Jones & the Last Crusade*
Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom*
Intolerable Cruelty
Iron Jawed Angels
Jacket, The
Jaws*
Jeepers Creepers
Jeepers Creepers 2
Josie and the Pussycats
Joy Ride
Just Married*
Kill Bill vol. 1
Kill Bill vol. 2
Kingpin
K-Pax
Kung Fu Hustle
Labyrinth*
Lady Jane
Latter Days
Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, The
Like Water For Chocolate
Lilo & Stitch
Little Black Book
Little Shop of Horrors
Little Women*
Lizzie McGuire Movie, The
Lone Star
Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring*
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers *
Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King*
Love Actually
Maid in Manhattan
Mallrats
Man on Fire
Manchurian Candidate, The* (the original)
Mars Attacks*
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World*
Matrix, The*
Me, Myself & Irene
Mean Girls*
Meet Joe Black
Meet The Fockers
Meet The Parents
Mighty Ducks*
Mildred Pierce
Minority Report*
Miracle*
Moon Child
Monty Python and the Holy Grail*
Moulin Rouge*
Mr. Holland's Opus*
Mr. North
Much Ado About Nothing*
My Boss' Daughter
Mystery Men*
Napoleon Dynamite *
National Treasure*
Never Been Kissed
Night of the Living Dead
North by Northwest*
Notebook, The
Notting Hill*
Now and Then
O Brother Where Art Thou?*
Ocean's Eleven*
Ocean's Twelve*
October Sky*
Old School
On Golden Pond*
Order, The
Orlando
Other Sister, The
Others, The*
Out of Sight
Parent Trap*
Party Girl
Passport to Paris
Paulie
People Under the Stairs
Persuasion*
Phantom of the Opera*
Philadelphia Story, The
Pillow Book, The
Pirates of the Caribbean*
Powwow Highway
Practical Magic
Predator*
Predator II*
Pretty in Pink
Prince of Darkness
Princess Bride, The*
Princess Mononoke/Mononoke-hime
Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement, The
Princess Diaries, The*
Queen Margot
Quills
Rainman*
Ray
Red China
Red Dragon
Reign of Fire*
Remember the Titans*
Resident Evil*
Resident Evil: Apocalypse
Rigoletto*
Ring 2, The
Ring, The
Ripley's Game
Robin Hood: Men in Tights*
Romancing the Stone*
Romeo and Juliet*
Royal Tenenbaums, The
Rutles, The
Sabrina*
Saved!
Saw
Say Anything
Scary Movie
Scary Movie 2
Scary Movie 3*
Scream
Scream 2
Scream 3
Secret Window*
Secretary
Seven
Sex, Lies and Videotape
Shaun Of The Dead
Shawshank Redemption, The
She's All That
Shrek*
Shrek 2*
Shutter
Sid and Nancy
Sideways
Signs*
Silence Of The Lambs
Sin City
Singing in the Rain*
Six Weeks
Sixteen Candles*
Sixth Sense, The*
Sky Captain & The World of Tomorrow*
SLC Punk
Sound of Music, The*
Spiderman*
Spiderman 2*
Spinal Tap*
Spirited Away
St. Elmos Fire
Stage Door*
Star Wars episode I: The Phantom Menance *
Star Wars episode II: Attack Of The Clones *
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith *
Star Wars episode IV: A New Hope*
Star Wars episode V: The Empire Strikes Back *
Star Wars episode VI: Return Of The Jedi*
Starman
Starsky & Hutch*
Star Trek: The Motion Picture*
Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan*
Star Trek: The Search for Spock*
Star Trek: The Voyage Home*
Star Trek: The Final Frontier*
Star Trek: First Contact*
Stealing Beauty
Stuart Little*
S.W.A.T.*
Sweet Home Alabama*
Sweetest Thing, The
Swimfan
Swimming with Sharks
Taxi Driver*
Team America: World Police
Terminal, The*
Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The
Three Kings
Thrill Seekers
Titanic*
Titus
Top Hat
Toy Story *
Toy Story 2*
Trainspotting
Troop Beverly Hills
Troy*
Universal Soldier
Upside of Anger, The
Urban Legend
Usual Suspects, The
Varsity Blues
Velvet Goldmine
View from the Top
Village, The*
Waiting for Guffman
Waking Ned Devine
Wedding Planner, The
Wedding Singer, The*
When Harry met Sally*
White Chicks*
White Christmas
White Noise
White Oleander
Who Framed Roger Rabbit?*
Whole Nine Yards, The
Wilby Wonderful
Wild Things
Willow*
Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory*
Wizard of Oz, The*
X-Men*
X-Men 2*
You Can Count on Me
Young Frankenstein*

So based on this, I have no idea what my movie watching taste is, but apparently it's stronger in the second half of the alphabet. Or soemthing.

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I thought ya'll might enjoy a few pictures from the 2005 12:00:00 home school formal baquet [i.e. prom with food instead of dancing]

***pics will be replaced soon***

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I'll write more later, but. . .I have a 6th grader (and his siblings) who are going through an intensely difficult time. They (and their mother) have discovered that their father is not the man everyone thought he was. My heart aches for them all, but especially my boy--his father has been his hero, and he is a very sensitive child. How does one even find words to say to another that can even hope to help? This is when magic power to hurt people would come in handy. All of my protective instincts come out and I want to avenge the aweful hurt that has been done to people I care deeply about. But I can do nothing. Well. . .not nothing. I can pray--and who is a better Avenger than Jehovah? But something tangible to do would help me. It seems so . . . inane to hurt with those who are hurting, but it must count for something since Paul said that believers are to do that. He wouldn't have emphasized it had it not been important. Seeing the broken heart of my student makes it seem so insignificant, though. I wish people would, in their selfishness, pause for a moment and consider the widespread ramifications of their sin--but then, I suppose it is the selfishness of their sin that prevents them from seeing it. Sometimes I hate people. I guess I really hate sin, and sin natures, and those who claim the name of Christ yet willfully continue in sin knowing what the consequences will be if they are caught. At any rate, I posted all of this to ask you, my brethren and theirs, to plunge yourselves into prayer for this family and their pain. Please. They need it desperately.

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

5th grade girls are so melodramatic. I think I've mentioned that before, but sheesh. Everything, especially now that spring fever has set in, becomes this huge emotional ordeal for everyone--including me. I have decided that under-the-counter Valium pills are definitely not out of the question. . . .Okay, I'm just joking. Mostly.

Right now we are working two simultaneous projects in 5th grade history--polishing skits about George Washington and making a big poster on the Louisiana Purchase and (pause to referee more melodrama "we don't all fit on this side, one of us needs to move to the boys' side." "we've already planned out what we're doing. Why can't they just stay over there." "Because we don't all fit over here to work." Sigh. Compromise and adapt aren't words in their vocabulary) the Lewis and Clark Expedition. It should be really cool--if everyone can work together and get it done. At this age it is so difficult to get projects done: not only are their leadership skills rudimentary, but there is also this weird boy vs. girl issue. Bleg. It isn't the war it was at the beginning of the year (thanks to some rules carrying an automatic detention consequence), but it is still a "thing" that they have to bring up as some kind of division/competition. Weird. And it isn't that I don't remember being that way, I just don't really get it anymore. And I don't like dealing with it. Sigh.

Upper school composition is wading deeply into research papers (woo-hoo). And as most of them have done this already (last year, as well as smaller research type projects this year) I am astounded at the lack of brain retention regarding how to take notes and do research. The plagiarism of it all. So, step by step we go. Hoy.

New topic. I'm a little ADD today. Too much caffeine, perhaps, if there is such a thing. I need prayer/thoughts for guidance. Way back a coupel fo months ago I mentioned a possibility of becoming 6-8th Humanities teacher. Well, long story short, after examination, thought, prayer, discussion, I'm not getting the position. Which also means that I need to figure out what I'm doing next year. For those few of you not already familiar with my Louisiana Board of Elementary and Secondary Education woes, I am in a position (thanks to the asinine educatonal policies in my state--policies that have not improved the state of our education) which makes it very difficult for me to find a teaching position. I am completely unsure what to do with myself--whether to teach, whether to pursue a writing career, whether to try for a university position or assistantship, whether to . . . .????? So, great prayer is needed--and suggestions from those that know me-or don't-are welcome. :) Oh. And i haven't told my parents yet that once again I'm in search of a job. I didn't think they'd want that stress added to the stress of Grandpa's death and funeral and will stuff. I really just want to find a place where I can burrow in and settle. I prefer to have my life-spices/uncertainty be on the fringes and voluntary rather than a core instability. God, apparently has other things in mind right now.

My sister's softball team won the league championship last night. Granted there are only a few teams in their league (Louisiana Christian School Athletic Association), but they could have done just as well in a bigger league. They really have a powerhouse team. My brother's baseball team has done well this year, also, but lost their playoff game due to outfield errors and several overthrows to 3rd base. A shame since Ben's pitching was really great--and he had some nice plays at 1st base in the last 2 innings. He want to try out for the Southeaster Louisiana University team in the fall. I hope he makes it. He's a good ball player and he loves the game.

Okay. I'm done now. Randomness and all.

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Everything in me is just exhausted right now, even my soul.

I guess I have to go back awhile to explain the tired things. I can't remember if I've written about my grandfather, and I don't have the energy to find out. So--a few years ago my grandfather had a bad fall (we think from some medication he was taking that really wasn't necessary) and a brain bleed. Until about six months ago, he lived with my Aunt and Uncle in Virginia because he just couldn't take care of himself. His memory was weird and fractured. The past year he started to decline and my aunt and uncle couldn't take care of him anymore, so he came to live in a nursing home near us. He was on and off. Then a few weeks ago, he had a bad fall and got pneumonia, and he just got more and more ill. Apparently he had "gotten" dementia and the fall just progressed everything. Finally, he had been in the hospital three times in a week-and-a-half; and when they brought him back the last time, they made arrangements for hospice to come in and care for him. I was suspicioned that this was the final illness when Mom said he had pnuemonia and wasn't really eating. Hospice was the clincher. Sunday, the 17th, Mom went to visit him the in the afternoon. I didn't go because I had a theatre meeting at 3. But she came back right before I left and said he was sleeping and she was falling asleep sitting in the room, so she had come home to take a nap. I left for my meeting. When I came home, Mom was gone, the t.v. was off, my sister was frantically washing dishes, and Sara M was playing over the stereo in an immaculate den. I knew something was wrong. My sister has a bit of Monica in her--she cleans when upset. Anyway. After I'd put my stuff up, she came into my room and asked if Mom had called me.
"No. What's up?"
"The nursing home called right after you left and said Grandpa passed away."
It doesn't matter how much you know it's coming. It's like catching a line drive in the gut. It doesn't even make sense at first. But then it does. Then Mom came home after the coroner got to the home and everything. And so then I couldn't stop from crying. So the three girls sat in the den and cried. My brother had retreated already to his room and was silent. My Dad was at work, so Ben had no-one to empathize with. The funeral wasn't until this past Monday becauase of family schedules and stuff, so surviving the week of teaching was difficult. I didn't tell anyone at school until the end of the week so I could make it. My grandfather was/is the most amazing man--a wonderful Christian, kindhearted, diligent, loving, and such a fun-loving person. The wake wasn't so hard, but the funeral was very difficult. Knowing that he is with my grandmother now is beautiful; knowing that he is healthy and mermory-full is a blessing; knowing that I will see him again is hopeful; but missing him now is horrible and painful. The thought that struck me at the funeral was what a stark reminder it is that we are not meant for death--that death/loss is un-natural and gouging. And I am so drained. Seeing family was wonderful, but that too was tiring. I haven't been able to fully recharge myself. The sympathy shown by my kids and other teachers on Tuesday was so wonderful. I am so grateful for their care. But it was weepy-fying. Ah well. Ok. I have to go now--I have kids all over the room for lunch-ish.

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So here is what I wrote Friday before my computer went attitudinal on me:

After a hiatus, I am back. Easter Break was a wonderful break�Xa lovely respite from 6.00 mornings. �� It is, though, always awkward to return to school after a break. This week we have studied oceans and worked on poetry. The kids are doing really well with the poetry. My 5th and 6th graders are having their in-class recital on Monday. It should be interesting! Actually, a few of these kids are as good as some of the kids I had in college. It��s nice. The upper school kids did well, also. It is interesting to me the way they decide whether or not something is worth their time�Xand some of them decided that poetry was only partially worth their time. Sigh. What do you do? If a student is satisfied with a mediocre performance/grade, how exactly do you motivate them to strive for more? It is a question that I struggle with all the time (having always taught subjects that many students find ��useless��). I don��t know if I��ll ever have the answer to that.
On a different note: yesterday I lost one of my students. �� One of my 6th graders has been trying to decide what she wants to do next year�Xcome back or go to Westdale Middle, a public school where several of her friends go. Her mom hasn��t been able to decide what to do, but took her over to do the entrance exams and all on Wednesday. Well, she called me that evening to tell me that the school had said, ��We can take her next week,�� causing immediate conundrums and such. So, her mom decided to go ahead and send her to Westdale for the rest of the year so that they can get a taste for it and be able to make a better-informed decision about next year. But it is sad for all of us. And really disrupting. Sigh. Why is change the constant in life? I don��t prefer it. At all.
New paragraph.

Okay. I don't really remember what I was going to write in the next paragraph. I did discover what Mary wanted to talk to me about--not nearly as stressful as I thought it would be: I accidentaly let a "boob" comment slip during 5th grade history last week. I immediately apologized to the kids for saying something so inappropriate and silly, but I also made a comment about not running straight home and saying that's all they learned today. So Mary had two parents say something to her about it. I felt really embarrassed. But I also feel a little miffeDATE: if the parents had an issue with something I said or did, why didn't they call me and talk to me about it. I'm the one who made the really dumb slip-up. Sigh. At least I know I'm not the only teacher ever who's said something stupid and inappropriate by accident. Some days I just fell hopeless.

On a brighter note, the 5th/6th grade had their poetry recital today, and everyone did a wonderful job! I was so very proud of them. Yay! At any rate, I have to run grab a note to send home--I have a field trip on Friday and no drivers!!!!

Posted by Renee at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I started an entry today on my laptop, and thankfully I saved it midway through because my laptop had several attitude issues with me today. Several. Sigh. So on Monday, I will finish that post and post it. (fingers crossed)

I'm a little stressed/freaked out right now. One of my superiors/fellow teachers came in right before carpool to ask if I could cover the 7-12 during carpool for her. And ask how she could get in touch with me over the weekend. Why? Is it a smiley-face get in touch with or a frowny-face get in touch with? Should I be preparing myself for total let-down? Is it about the if-y class another superior informally observed yesterday? Am I being nixed from future Dialectic humanities teacher? Am I being future Dialectic humanities teacher? Did I offend a student? What about the persistant teasing about about a high school student that likes to hang around and talk to me as we have much in common? Is there some kind of foolish rumour that is being taken seriously? Am I in trouble or am I just freaking out for nothing? Whew. That's pretty much the list that's gone through my head hundreds of times since 2.40 this afternoon. I don't like these kinds of things. It's like in college--at least my college--when you get a call slip to the Dean's office and so you go through the list of things it could be (worse in Grad school because then it probably has to do with work responsibilities) and you just wish they would