2008 in Review
My initial sentiments on the year 2008, the year of the Rat, are those of its namesake: small, mostly wretched, and unpleasant. I have experienced much loss this year, with only little gain. There was some joy, but much pain. Friends were gained, but, I fear, more lost. Now, without further ado, the roller-coaster ride that was 2008:
My job saw its set of ups and downs: Though my teaching style and ability has improved, this being my second year teaching, my job remains in jeopardy due to budget cuts in education. This dismal state of uncertainty has left many a negative teacher and has certainly impeded my joy in the classroom and at school in general around my coworkers. Additionally, at the end of my first year of teaching, I become enmeshed in a scandal that pitted two friends of mine against each other and sent my once peaceful work environment into a frenzied mire of “he said/she said” nonsense.
My family has seen its set of ups and downs: My sister graduated from college in June, the same month my cousin got married in probably the best wedding I will ever go to (other than my own, let’s hope). This was only days before our families experienced their most-harrowing times: the deaths of my uncle’s father (his family is so close to mine that we all go on vacations together) and my own grandmother, who at 92 represented the matriarchal glue that my family was so used to seeing and feeling at all events and in everyday life. Now six months after this grim period, we are still facing sorrow and distress: my father lost his job in November, with little hope in plain sight; my 11-year-old faithful golden retriever is dying of cancer; and my 92-year-old heart-ached grandfather is also slowly deteriorating. And yet, what of these sentiments will I have to endure in 2009? Was there any good from this year that will endure into the next?
There was a time this year of complete joy and unfettered happiness for me. In July, I embarked on the greatest trip of my life, driving across the United States. The 5,178 miles traveled represented a road never taken, places my foot never previously stepped, but that now have traces of my prints and I of theirs. It was a phenomenal departure from the despondency of life as I knew it, and I fear that I need another departure to get me back into the swing of things.
Another high point of the year, which I was not directly involved in, was the election of a candidate for President whose values and beliefs I too believed in. Barack Obama’s campaign was founded on the two words “change” and “hope,” and no doubt the 2008 election year will go down in history bearing those two words. However, let’s look into them a little further. Change. 2008 was a year of change; however, for me it was depressing and discouraging, an unwanted change, one for the worse. Hope. 2009 can be the year of hope, that there are better times ahead, that all is not lost, and that a saying in one of the best movies of the year—The Dark Knight—is true: “the night is darkest before dawn.” I hope that in 2009, a new day will dawn for me and my family that will entail happiness, joy, and good, something to raise the spirit before it plummets further into depression, discouragement, and eventual darkness. Let’s hope the year of the ox has the strength to bring about that much-needed spiritual uprising.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
John McCain: The -Istful Candidate
If John McCain and his surrogates want to paint Barack Obama as a socialist, then they have some other “-ist” designations they should be throwing around instead.
How about populist? Ah, yes, a discourse that supports the people rather than the elite. Yes, they tried to present Obama as an elitist, but it seems that a majority of the populace is leaning toward this McCain-proclaimed socialist-elitist.
And how about that whole “pallin’ around with terrorists” rhetoric? Terrorism is defined as “the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims.” Hmm…what politician would intimidate others and incite violence to achieve political aims? Shouts of “terrorist” and “off with his head” and “kill him” –heard at McCain campaign rallies--are certainly examples of violence and intimidation tactics. Yet, the authors of these unprecedented epithets, who Senator McCain simply calls “nuts,” are often addressed by the Senator himself as the ubiquitous “my friends.” Well, Senator McCain, if your friends are shouting “kill him” and “off with his head” to advance your political aims, aren’t you, essentially, palling around with terrorists?
We could get to the Muslim and Arab charge for Senator Obama, but neither of those end in “-ist,” so to stay with my theme, I’d like to bring up a religion which has not been brought up regarding Senator Obama, but which I believe is applicable. A Taoist is one who follows the traditional religious and philosophical views of Taoism. Written by Lao Tsu, one of the tenets of the Tao is the following:
“The Tao of heaven is to take from those who have too much
And give to those who do not have enough.
Man’s way is different.
He takes from those who do not have enough
To give to those who already have too much.
What man has more than enough and gives it to the world?
Only the man of Tao.”
It sounds to me like Senator Obama is more of a pacifist, Taoist populist than the terrorist-socialist-Muslim-elitist that Senator McCain’s campaign is attempting to portray him.
It’s insightful that Lao Tsu saw the flawed nature of Man, nearly 25 centuries ago, and the peaceful ways that man could adapt in order to benefit the world. However, it’s unfortunate that in our post-9/11, post-Bush, McCain v. Obama 2008 society, Lao Tsu, a revolutionary philosopher and religious figure, would merely be branded a “Socialist Elitist” unfit to rule a country of mere Men. The next President of the United States will have to pave the way for man’s adaptation to the new world of the 21st century that we find ourselves living in, for the continued benefit of all its inhabitants. Therefore, I’ll be voting for the candidate running on the pro-American Humanist platform. Can someone point me in the right direction? Because I’m quickly turning into a rapidly growing American pessimist.
How about populist? Ah, yes, a discourse that supports the people rather than the elite. Yes, they tried to present Obama as an elitist, but it seems that a majority of the populace is leaning toward this McCain-proclaimed socialist-elitist.
And how about that whole “pallin’ around with terrorists” rhetoric? Terrorism is defined as “the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims.” Hmm…what politician would intimidate others and incite violence to achieve political aims? Shouts of “terrorist” and “off with his head” and “kill him” –heard at McCain campaign rallies--are certainly examples of violence and intimidation tactics. Yet, the authors of these unprecedented epithets, who Senator McCain simply calls “nuts,” are often addressed by the Senator himself as the ubiquitous “my friends.” Well, Senator McCain, if your friends are shouting “kill him” and “off with his head” to advance your political aims, aren’t you, essentially, palling around with terrorists?
We could get to the Muslim and Arab charge for Senator Obama, but neither of those end in “-ist,” so to stay with my theme, I’d like to bring up a religion which has not been brought up regarding Senator Obama, but which I believe is applicable. A Taoist is one who follows the traditional religious and philosophical views of Taoism. Written by Lao Tsu, one of the tenets of the Tao is the following:
“The Tao of heaven is to take from those who have too much
And give to those who do not have enough.
Man’s way is different.
He takes from those who do not have enough
To give to those who already have too much.
What man has more than enough and gives it to the world?
Only the man of Tao.”
It sounds to me like Senator Obama is more of a pacifist, Taoist populist than the terrorist-socialist-Muslim-elitist that Senator McCain’s campaign is attempting to portray him.
It’s insightful that Lao Tsu saw the flawed nature of Man, nearly 25 centuries ago, and the peaceful ways that man could adapt in order to benefit the world. However, it’s unfortunate that in our post-9/11, post-Bush, McCain v. Obama 2008 society, Lao Tsu, a revolutionary philosopher and religious figure, would merely be branded a “Socialist Elitist” unfit to rule a country of mere Men. The next President of the United States will have to pave the way for man’s adaptation to the new world of the 21st century that we find ourselves living in, for the continued benefit of all its inhabitants. Therefore, I’ll be voting for the candidate running on the pro-American Humanist platform. Can someone point me in the right direction? Because I’m quickly turning into a rapidly growing American pessimist.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Paying it Forward
Today I donated $20 to a complete stranger.
This guy, 44 years old, and his wife approached me in the Finleys parking lot in Bay Shore. They explained that their car broke down, they tried to take the train to Shirley, but the conductors wouldn't let them on because they didn't have enough money. The man explained that he had almost had the cops called on him, he seemed frightened looking at the cop car, and even promised me he'd go to the train station by saying I could drive him himself.
This seemed like a compelling story to me for some reason.
When I gave the man the money, he was very thankful and asked how he could pay me back. What I said was something I've never said before--something I've always thought of, but have never actually applied to my own life. I told him to pay it forward; not to pay me back, but to help somebody else out and pay it forward.
Now I do not know if the man and his wife actually went on a train to Shirley, or if they went around Bay Shore some more and got money for drugs or something, but I hope my insistence on paying it forward resonated with these two. I'm hoping this act of generosity, whether deserved or not, inspired these two to do some more, and to generate more generosity in a culture that is certainly lacking people helping people when they need it.
As I'm writing this, I'm feeling better about it. I don't know if I truly believe their story. I don't know what motivated me to help them. I will never know my motivation or the actual truth; I can only hope. If we can't rely on hope, what do we have? I half-jokingly said to a friend of mine tonight that I want to wait until people help me out with $20 - whether it's a dollar here, a drink there, a quarter next - just to see how long it takes to get my money back from others. Just a little experiment, even if it's a tad selfish.
I don't really know what to think about the whole situation, but how else would this world turn if people didn't try to pay it forward?
This guy, 44 years old, and his wife approached me in the Finleys parking lot in Bay Shore. They explained that their car broke down, they tried to take the train to Shirley, but the conductors wouldn't let them on because they didn't have enough money. The man explained that he had almost had the cops called on him, he seemed frightened looking at the cop car, and even promised me he'd go to the train station by saying I could drive him himself.
This seemed like a compelling story to me for some reason.
When I gave the man the money, he was very thankful and asked how he could pay me back. What I said was something I've never said before--something I've always thought of, but have never actually applied to my own life. I told him to pay it forward; not to pay me back, but to help somebody else out and pay it forward.
Now I do not know if the man and his wife actually went on a train to Shirley, or if they went around Bay Shore some more and got money for drugs or something, but I hope my insistence on paying it forward resonated with these two. I'm hoping this act of generosity, whether deserved or not, inspired these two to do some more, and to generate more generosity in a culture that is certainly lacking people helping people when they need it.
As I'm writing this, I'm feeling better about it. I don't know if I truly believe their story. I don't know what motivated me to help them. I will never know my motivation or the actual truth; I can only hope. If we can't rely on hope, what do we have? I half-jokingly said to a friend of mine tonight that I want to wait until people help me out with $20 - whether it's a dollar here, a drink there, a quarter next - just to see how long it takes to get my money back from others. Just a little experiment, even if it's a tad selfish.
I don't really know what to think about the whole situation, but how else would this world turn if people didn't try to pay it forward?
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Occam's Razor
All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the best. This maxim is commonly known as Occam's razor. It seems incredibly optimistic and unheard of in our society nowadays that we would go for the simplest solution possible. Lately, people have been positing and pundits pontificating about how one person or another group of people are going to bail this country out of its economic debt. About how we are going to end our reliance on foreign oil. On how we are going to create more jobs inside this country. And who can get us out of this whole mess.
But, is there any way either of our cunning candidates or their surrogates could come up with a simple solution? There has to be an easy way of getting us out of this mess. I believe if we start simple, we can get complex later. If we can put a guided faith in accomplishing something for the common good in one person, a simple solution, then the more complex acts must soon follow.
It is simple to do what is good. It is complex to do what is evil; at least, that's the way it should be. Lately we have had a proclivity as a society to act more evilly than good, and we need to change that pattern. A minor change in how we act could create a sensation akin to a "pay it forward" movement, and in that case, we'd be moving and progressing forward, rather than behind.
But, is there any way either of our cunning candidates or their surrogates could come up with a simple solution? There has to be an easy way of getting us out of this mess. I believe if we start simple, we can get complex later. If we can put a guided faith in accomplishing something for the common good in one person, a simple solution, then the more complex acts must soon follow.
It is simple to do what is good. It is complex to do what is evil; at least, that's the way it should be. Lately we have had a proclivity as a society to act more evilly than good, and we need to change that pattern. A minor change in how we act could create a sensation akin to a "pay it forward" movement, and in that case, we'd be moving and progressing forward, rather than behind.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Starting Fresh
When we sleep, we like to think our mind is subdued, on auto-pilot so we can rest assuredly. I think otherwise. I think my mind is crazily moving at the speed of light up to and while I sleep. I have been lying in bed lately, unable to fall asleep, with thoughts and anxieties buzzing around in my mind. It is not until there is a clear separation of mind and body that I can actually achieve sleep, as if it were an Olympic gold medal that I am trying desperately to win.
Why is the separation of mind and body so hard to achieve? There must be a spiritual way to do this. Meditation? Tai chi? I have to look into something. I think part of the problem is I am growing. My mind and my body are growing beyond the limits that my small bed inside my small room have contained me. Every year, at certain points, I get the urge to move, to disperse myself and check out other places. I think that time has come for me now. I temporarily released my diaspora among this country on my trip this summer, but the feeling of growth beyond boundaries has returned. There are aspects of my life that have to start anew.
I think we all need a fresh start every once in awhile. Without starting new, without building ourselves up from nothing, what do we do? Sit and collect dust. And for those who started from dust, collecting dust is a step back in the progression we are going in. So I think I'm going to keep moving forward and start painting myself up on a fresh canvass...until I take a break and fall asleep.
Why is the separation of mind and body so hard to achieve? There must be a spiritual way to do this. Meditation? Tai chi? I have to look into something. I think part of the problem is I am growing. My mind and my body are growing beyond the limits that my small bed inside my small room have contained me. Every year, at certain points, I get the urge to move, to disperse myself and check out other places. I think that time has come for me now. I temporarily released my diaspora among this country on my trip this summer, but the feeling of growth beyond boundaries has returned. There are aspects of my life that have to start anew.
I think we all need a fresh start every once in awhile. Without starting new, without building ourselves up from nothing, what do we do? Sit and collect dust. And for those who started from dust, collecting dust is a step back in the progression we are going in. So I think I'm going to keep moving forward and start painting myself up on a fresh canvass...until I take a break and fall asleep.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Whirlwind
Lately I've been thinking about directions. When I'm driving West on a road, like Middle Country Road for instance, it's neat to think about the term "west" in a general, worldly sense. For instance, where my car is at that exact moment, if I were able to drive due west, straight on til' morning as they say, I could be in Pennsylvania or Ohio or Colorado, etc. And the same if I were able to drive due east. We are constantly able to move east and west, but rarely up and down. Physically, we really don't go too far up or too far down, at least not as easily. We can go as high as a sky-scraper, or of course an airplane, but it doesn't involve the same amount of effort. We can laboriously climb to the top of a mountain or scuba-dive to the bottom of the ocean, but these activities are not common to everyman's everyday life. And of course at times we fall down, but as I was reminded when watching Batman Begins, "Why do we fall? To pick ourselves up."
Tonight, I watched a pair of "funnel clouds" from my backyard deck. These twister-like masses appeared in the distance, only a few miles, just over the Long Island Sound, extending out from a massive storm cloud that ballooned and marshmallowed all the way up to the sun. It was a magnificent sight to see from the vantage point of my own backyard. But, I thought about the rare tornado action that we see here on the island as a sign that even though we might get caught in a whirlwind sometimes, there is beauty and serenity and solace underneath it all. I was able to see this beautiful sight, which got me thinking; others were able to capture it on video and are now featured in the (local news); yet, if these twin twisters had been 20 miles closer to land, houses (possibly even those of some good friends) could have been seriously damaged.
We tend to encounter whirlwinds like these all the time. The key is looking underneath for that glimpse of light or way of picking ourselves back up when the dust settles and the wind dies down a bit.
Tonight, I watched a pair of "funnel clouds" from my backyard deck. These twister-like masses appeared in the distance, only a few miles, just over the Long Island Sound, extending out from a massive storm cloud that ballooned and marshmallowed all the way up to the sun. It was a magnificent sight to see from the vantage point of my own backyard. But, I thought about the rare tornado action that we see here on the island as a sign that even though we might get caught in a whirlwind sometimes, there is beauty and serenity and solace underneath it all. I was able to see this beautiful sight, which got me thinking; others were able to capture it on video and are now featured in the (local news); yet, if these twin twisters had been 20 miles closer to land, houses (possibly even those of some good friends) could have been seriously damaged.
We tend to encounter whirlwinds like these all the time. The key is looking underneath for that glimpse of light or way of picking ourselves back up when the dust settles and the wind dies down a bit.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Heim
Took the train into the city today to meet up with college friends Meg & Jeremy, and so glad I did because it's just nice to talk to some people and have a great sophisticated conversation with those I haven't seen in awhile. This is what I observed on my trip:
The clouds are so low today as my train endlessly glides into them, which permeate the atmosphere around me and feed into the sun, like giant marshmallows being prod into a great big campfire, with billions of Earth's people all sitting around.
I know the people in this city. These people are me: anxious and aggressive but kind and affable. They will look you in the eye despite the color that surrounds that eye--and it is not a look of disgust or dislike; it's a shared look of strength, acceptance; it is in this New York Look that you can tell in some way we are all alike: even if it is in our innate nature of running to the Long Island Railroad track the second the track number is released on the switchboard in Penn Station, all appendages flying by with little regard for anyone else around, except the lady next to you on the escalator whom you share a smile with over the man with the bicycle who is holding up all the traffic going down to the train that will take you home. Yes this is my city that I do recognize so well.
The ending to the day: Sigur Ros "Heim" (which means "Home" in German).
The clouds are so low today as my train endlessly glides into them, which permeate the atmosphere around me and feed into the sun, like giant marshmallows being prod into a great big campfire, with billions of Earth's people all sitting around.
I know the people in this city. These people are me: anxious and aggressive but kind and affable. They will look you in the eye despite the color that surrounds that eye--and it is not a look of disgust or dislike; it's a shared look of strength, acceptance; it is in this New York Look that you can tell in some way we are all alike: even if it is in our innate nature of running to the Long Island Railroad track the second the track number is released on the switchboard in Penn Station, all appendages flying by with little regard for anyone else around, except the lady next to you on the escalator whom you share a smile with over the man with the bicycle who is holding up all the traffic going down to the train that will take you home. Yes this is my city that I do recognize so well.
The ending to the day: Sigur Ros "Heim" (which means "Home" in German).
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Quite Disgruntled...
"THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US; LATE AND SOON"
THE world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 10
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
1806.
Wm. Wordsworth
THE world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 10
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
1806.
Wm. Wordsworth
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Longing for Somesing
My mind is harassing me tonight. I have been enveloped lately in thinking about my upcoming cross country trip. What this trip means for me. I have had this longing recently, this pining for something or someone, a comfort of some sort with which I can share my innermost thoughts. I'm hoping this trip will be a venue for me to do this.
Reading John Steinbeck's memoir about driving cross-country, I realize that this longing for something unknown, out of the ordinary afflicts many people in America. Steinbeck explores this concept in himself and in the characters he meets scattered across this great country. And I find myself in a sense through his travels, but I'm hoping to find myself through my own travels as well.
Why is loneliness and longing so tangible? Every time I get these pangs, I can feel them coming from a mile off and they linger for days, weeks, even months, like the satisfaction of eating a rich piece of chocolate cake, or the persistence of being overcome with the flu.
However persistent and tangible these pangs of loneliness/longing are, they are so incomplete and unfulfilled. They are begging to be filled up, to be rife with joy and satisfaction, happiness and laughter. The lack of these elements, I believe, causes the longing to grow and grow, until it envelopes my entire being, so my heart, mind, and soul are all craving something as tangible as the longing itself, something that will fulfill all desire and want.
I am reminded of my youth. When I was 2, 3 years old and I would get hungry, I would go into the kitchen, open up all the cabinets, stare at all the boxes of food, and boldly declare, "I want some-sing...I want some-SING!" (my "th" sounds weren't greatly developed at this time period). What I wanted wasn't necessarily a sweet piece of candy, or a salty pretzel, it was the feeling of fulfillment. The feeling of filling in a void, the void occupied inside of me by want, by longing, by desire.
I need some-sing now to fill up this void of want, longing, and desire that's inside of me.
Reading John Steinbeck's memoir about driving cross-country, I realize that this longing for something unknown, out of the ordinary afflicts many people in America. Steinbeck explores this concept in himself and in the characters he meets scattered across this great country. And I find myself in a sense through his travels, but I'm hoping to find myself through my own travels as well.
Why is loneliness and longing so tangible? Every time I get these pangs, I can feel them coming from a mile off and they linger for days, weeks, even months, like the satisfaction of eating a rich piece of chocolate cake, or the persistence of being overcome with the flu.
However persistent and tangible these pangs of loneliness/longing are, they are so incomplete and unfulfilled. They are begging to be filled up, to be rife with joy and satisfaction, happiness and laughter. The lack of these elements, I believe, causes the longing to grow and grow, until it envelopes my entire being, so my heart, mind, and soul are all craving something as tangible as the longing itself, something that will fulfill all desire and want.
I am reminded of my youth. When I was 2, 3 years old and I would get hungry, I would go into the kitchen, open up all the cabinets, stare at all the boxes of food, and boldly declare, "I want some-sing...I want some-SING!" (my "th" sounds weren't greatly developed at this time period). What I wanted wasn't necessarily a sweet piece of candy, or a salty pretzel, it was the feeling of fulfillment. The feeling of filling in a void, the void occupied inside of me by want, by longing, by desire.
I need some-sing now to fill up this void of want, longing, and desire that's inside of me.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Taxi Driver
As I tend to do when in a city and taking a taxi ride, I embarked on a lovely conversation on Friday night in Philadelphia with our driver named Said. Now, I know that looks like the word "said," but it is actually pronounced "Sayid." We actually discussed the pronunciation and phonetics of his name in our conversation.
Getting in the car, Said seemed skeptical to talk to me. Even when I asked his name, he kind of smirked shyly, clearly taken off-guard by my openness and immediate friendliness. But he divulged anyway. As arduous as that proved to be, so was the next question I asked him. "Where are you from?" "Philadelphia." "No, where are you from originally?" (Said was clearly African, with a strong accent). "Africa." "Where in Africa?" "West Africa." "That's not a country...what country are you from?" "Ivory Coast." What a circuitous way of finding out where someone is from.
This openness led to much talk on Ivory Coast, our conversation ranging from west Africa's leaders--tyrannical, corrupt, and aggressive--to the people in Ivory Coast--extremely poor. When I asked, that since Ivory Coast is a democratic nation, how come the people don't elect a leader who would do better for them? Said's response was that the leaders go around and pressure, almost bribe, the townspeople with food or money in order to get their vote. In my heart, I wanted the townspeople to be strong and elect someone who could actually implement a positive change for them. But, when I thought about it, I realized if I were in that economic situation, I would probably be the same way as they.
Said, who has been in this country for about ten years, expressed a certain sense of joy and accomplishment at Barack Obama's historic nomination as the first African-American major party presidential candidate. We talked about the people in Kenya, a country near to Ivory Coast, who were rejoicing at this victory, as Said seemed to have done in his own indistinct sense as well. We had both known, through news reports, that Barack had an uncle from Kenya whose name was Said Obama, which is how I knew how to spell my driver's name correctly, as opposed to the more Muslim (I suppose) way of spelling Sayid.
Driving through Manayunk at this point (our destination was Roxborough, the next town over, at my friend Kim's apartment), it occurred to me that I stumbled upon an extremely bright, well-informed African-American taxi driver from Ivory Coast. I decided to ask Said how he got so educated. Apparently, he dropped out of school many years ago, not progressing past elementary school, it seemed, and got his information primarily from the news. I was dually impressed. But, I was a little disappointed, and I feel like the scholarly world was losing out on this bright mind, so I implored him to in some way go to school, whether it was community college or GED, some kind of schooling. I told him it was the teacher in me that wanted his bright mind educated. I don't know if I was being pretentious at this point--I really was sincere the whole time--but I really felt like the world would be a better place, especially with his opinions on politics and what is wrong in Africa, if Said contributed to the greater well-being through his academics as opposed to his motor vehicle skills. I left the cab feeling accomplished, whether Said takes my advice or not, that I at least put the thought into his head, and had a wonderfully intelligent conversation with a complete stranger and a completely opposite person to myself.
Getting in the car, Said seemed skeptical to talk to me. Even when I asked his name, he kind of smirked shyly, clearly taken off-guard by my openness and immediate friendliness. But he divulged anyway. As arduous as that proved to be, so was the next question I asked him. "Where are you from?" "Philadelphia." "No, where are you from originally?" (Said was clearly African, with a strong accent). "Africa." "Where in Africa?" "West Africa." "That's not a country...what country are you from?" "Ivory Coast." What a circuitous way of finding out where someone is from.
This openness led to much talk on Ivory Coast, our conversation ranging from west Africa's leaders--tyrannical, corrupt, and aggressive--to the people in Ivory Coast--extremely poor. When I asked, that since Ivory Coast is a democratic nation, how come the people don't elect a leader who would do better for them? Said's response was that the leaders go around and pressure, almost bribe, the townspeople with food or money in order to get their vote. In my heart, I wanted the townspeople to be strong and elect someone who could actually implement a positive change for them. But, when I thought about it, I realized if I were in that economic situation, I would probably be the same way as they.
Said, who has been in this country for about ten years, expressed a certain sense of joy and accomplishment at Barack Obama's historic nomination as the first African-American major party presidential candidate. We talked about the people in Kenya, a country near to Ivory Coast, who were rejoicing at this victory, as Said seemed to have done in his own indistinct sense as well. We had both known, through news reports, that Barack had an uncle from Kenya whose name was Said Obama, which is how I knew how to spell my driver's name correctly, as opposed to the more Muslim (I suppose) way of spelling Sayid.
Driving through Manayunk at this point (our destination was Roxborough, the next town over, at my friend Kim's apartment), it occurred to me that I stumbled upon an extremely bright, well-informed African-American taxi driver from Ivory Coast. I decided to ask Said how he got so educated. Apparently, he dropped out of school many years ago, not progressing past elementary school, it seemed, and got his information primarily from the news. I was dually impressed. But, I was a little disappointed, and I feel like the scholarly world was losing out on this bright mind, so I implored him to in some way go to school, whether it was community college or GED, some kind of schooling. I told him it was the teacher in me that wanted his bright mind educated. I don't know if I was being pretentious at this point--I really was sincere the whole time--but I really felt like the world would be a better place, especially with his opinions on politics and what is wrong in Africa, if Said contributed to the greater well-being through his academics as opposed to his motor vehicle skills. I left the cab feeling accomplished, whether Said takes my advice or not, that I at least put the thought into his head, and had a wonderfully intelligent conversation with a complete stranger and a completely opposite person to myself.
Grizzly Man
Just watched the documentary Grizzly Man about crazed grizzly bear enthusiast Timothy Treadwell. He studied grizzly bears in their natural Alaskan habitat for 13 years. Ironically, but not surprisingly, he was mauled and killed by a grizzly in 2001.
The director and narrator said something extremely profound at the end of the film, about Timothy's death, but also about nature and human nature in general, something that I hope to discover this summer on my own foray into nature:
Treadwell is gone.
The argument how wrong
or how right he was
disappears into a distance
into a fog.
What remains is his footage.
And while we watch the animals
in their joys of being,
in their grace
and ferociousness,
a thought becomes
more and more clear.
That it is not so much
a look at wild nature
as it is an insight
into ourselves, our nature.
And that, for me,
beyond his mission,
gives meaning to his life
and to his death.
The director and narrator said something extremely profound at the end of the film, about Timothy's death, but also about nature and human nature in general, something that I hope to discover this summer on my own foray into nature:
Treadwell is gone.
The argument how wrong
or how right he was
disappears into a distance
into a fog.
What remains is his footage.
And while we watch the animals
in their joys of being,
in their grace
and ferociousness,
a thought becomes
more and more clear.
That it is not so much
a look at wild nature
as it is an insight
into ourselves, our nature.
And that, for me,
beyond his mission,
gives meaning to his life
and to his death.
Monday, May 5, 2008
I never meant to cause you trouble
Sometimes I just need a walk in the woods to clear up the constant clutter that flutters through my brain like a commercial, like an infomercial that seems endless in the night. The guy trying to sell the Bowflex, you know the guy with the pony tail who never stops exercising? He does the Bowflex, the elliptical, while we are sitting on our asses staring at the man who is exercising. Yet, for some reason, we are compelled to watch, to stare into oblivion for a time. It's nice to get out and erase that, change the channel from the oblivion for awhile.
It's nice to go for a drive. To roll the windows down, blast the music, soar along the (open) highway, racing towards the sunset, everything else in life on hold. Sometimes my life gets overwhelming, and it's nice to just step back--while moving forward. That's kinda life though. I can be standing completely still, but there are still a million things going on in my brain. While I sleep, my eyes are moving constantly, randomly, out of my control. Yet during the day, how many moments do we get to perpetually force ourselves into motion, while at the same time halting all of the overwhelming thoughts going on in our brains? Not too often, in my opinion.
Sometimes it's just nice to listen to a song, and not worry about anything else that's going on. Like right now, I'm sitting on a futon in my guest room, a disgustingly pale green color permeating the walls, the light from the broken lamp-shaded lamp shining in my eyes, Comedy Central muted on the TV, window open, barely any sounds outside, and I can't stop listening to "Trouble" by Coldplay, a song I just rediscovered on an old friend's myspace page. It's nice to harmlessly put the mind at ease, something done all too often in all too harmful ways--drugs, alcohol, other addictions. Yet there are saving graces, like nature, like music, the little parts of life that serve as life's stress ball. I haven't really seen the stress ball lately. Was there a significant phase in this country where people were buying and using stress balls to relieve stress? It's amazing that this period has come and gone, and begs the question--what are people doing nowadays to reduce stress? I think it's important to know what your stress ball is. I think I know what mine is...I guess I'll just keep squeezing til I find out.
It's nice to go for a drive. To roll the windows down, blast the music, soar along the (open) highway, racing towards the sunset, everything else in life on hold. Sometimes my life gets overwhelming, and it's nice to just step back--while moving forward. That's kinda life though. I can be standing completely still, but there are still a million things going on in my brain. While I sleep, my eyes are moving constantly, randomly, out of my control. Yet during the day, how many moments do we get to perpetually force ourselves into motion, while at the same time halting all of the overwhelming thoughts going on in our brains? Not too often, in my opinion.
Sometimes it's just nice to listen to a song, and not worry about anything else that's going on. Like right now, I'm sitting on a futon in my guest room, a disgustingly pale green color permeating the walls, the light from the broken lamp-shaded lamp shining in my eyes, Comedy Central muted on the TV, window open, barely any sounds outside, and I can't stop listening to "Trouble" by Coldplay, a song I just rediscovered on an old friend's myspace page. It's nice to harmlessly put the mind at ease, something done all too often in all too harmful ways--drugs, alcohol, other addictions. Yet there are saving graces, like nature, like music, the little parts of life that serve as life's stress ball. I haven't really seen the stress ball lately. Was there a significant phase in this country where people were buying and using stress balls to relieve stress? It's amazing that this period has come and gone, and begs the question--what are people doing nowadays to reduce stress? I think it's important to know what your stress ball is. I think I know what mine is...I guess I'll just keep squeezing til I find out.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Twenty-two
At such a contemplative, confusing age, this kind of makes sense to me.
From the "Tao Te Ching" by Lao Tsu:
TWENTY-TWO
Yield and overcome;
Bend and be straight;
Empty and be full;
Wear out and be new;
Have little and gain;
Have much and be confused.
Therefore wise men embrace the one
And set an example to all.
Not putting on a display,
They shine forth.
Not justifying themselves,
They are distinguished.
Not boasting,
They receive recognition.
Not bragging,
They never falter.
They do not quarrel,
So no one quarrels with them.
Therefore the ancients say, "Yield and overcome."
Is that an empty saying?
Be really whole,
And all things will come to you.
I love the last two lines...Be really whole, and all things will come to you.
Be really whole :)
From the "Tao Te Ching" by Lao Tsu:
TWENTY-TWO
Yield and overcome;
Bend and be straight;
Empty and be full;
Wear out and be new;
Have little and gain;
Have much and be confused.
Therefore wise men embrace the one
And set an example to all.
Not putting on a display,
They shine forth.
Not justifying themselves,
They are distinguished.
Not boasting,
They receive recognition.
Not bragging,
They never falter.
They do not quarrel,
So no one quarrels with them.
Therefore the ancients say, "Yield and overcome."
Is that an empty saying?
Be really whole,
And all things will come to you.
I love the last two lines...Be really whole, and all things will come to you.
Be really whole :)
Monday, April 21, 2008
Blurry
I have been feeling way too much guilt lately. Guilt for things I've done. Usually one feels guilt for the things he has not done; I feel the opposite.
Mainly, it has involved the use of alcohol. I feel like I can't just go out and have a few. Instead, I find myself in situations where I am buying for more than myself and am looking to go crazy. I don't know why this is happening.
I try and step back just a second and I feel like I can't. The normal response should be, I guess, that I'm 22 years old and this is what happens when you're 22. But, I feel that that response isn't so.
I kind of want to change things as they are right now. I do and I don't. I'm at this in-between stage, I feel like, where I don't know my right from my left. Where what I did and have done before is blurring with what I am doing now.
I feel like I need to cut myself off for awhile. Put down the cell phone, sign off of IM, and start worrying about what me and my family, the people I love, are doing--instead of what I need to be doing with my friends, which has become self-destructive, in a sense. I feel I have gotten into a routine that is destructive and not something I have hoped for in my life. I need to become un-blurred from this.
Mainly, it has involved the use of alcohol. I feel like I can't just go out and have a few. Instead, I find myself in situations where I am buying for more than myself and am looking to go crazy. I don't know why this is happening.
I try and step back just a second and I feel like I can't. The normal response should be, I guess, that I'm 22 years old and this is what happens when you're 22. But, I feel that that response isn't so.
I kind of want to change things as they are right now. I do and I don't. I'm at this in-between stage, I feel like, where I don't know my right from my left. Where what I did and have done before is blurring with what I am doing now.
I feel like I need to cut myself off for awhile. Put down the cell phone, sign off of IM, and start worrying about what me and my family, the people I love, are doing--instead of what I need to be doing with my friends, which has become self-destructive, in a sense. I feel I have gotten into a routine that is destructive and not something I have hoped for in my life. I need to become un-blurred from this.
Monday, February 25, 2008
The Puzzle Piece of Life
Today, I am trying to put the pieces back together. No, nothing tangible has broken. Instead, the pieces are specific answers that I am searching for. Trying to figure out why things happen in life the way they do.
Why a young life can be taken from this world for no apparent reason.
Why a person would drive around on drugs, after having his license revoked 4 times prior.
Why a group of kids would act upset about somebody's death only to get out of class and hang out with their friends.
Why a world breeds such ignorance and insensitivity.
Why a death should bring about the only reflection given to one's life.
Why a person's efforts in life shouldn't be rewarded more often.
Why we all can come and go at any point.
Why the world and everyone who inhabits it can't be all good-natured and warm towards one another?
Read this news article about this young girl who died when she was killed by a driver believed to be on drugs: http://www.newsday.com/news/local/suffolk/ny-lifune0225,0,3358507.story
Angelica sat in the front seat, second from the right. She always had her hand up. She always asked what more she could do to do better. She was the only student to give me a Christmas card my first year teaching. And now she'll have to be remembered only by those acts she so graciously completed during her 14 years on this cruel, unfair Earth.
Angelica was my student, and she always will be my student.
Maybe she'll help me put the puzzle together, to help me understand this cruel and unfair life, where evil always seems to triumph over good in the unfortunate end.
Why a young life can be taken from this world for no apparent reason.
Why a person would drive around on drugs, after having his license revoked 4 times prior.
Why a group of kids would act upset about somebody's death only to get out of class and hang out with their friends.
Why a world breeds such ignorance and insensitivity.
Why a death should bring about the only reflection given to one's life.
Why a person's efforts in life shouldn't be rewarded more often.
Why we all can come and go at any point.
Why the world and everyone who inhabits it can't be all good-natured and warm towards one another?
Read this news article about this young girl who died when she was killed by a driver believed to be on drugs: http://www.newsday.com/news/local/suffolk/ny-lifune0225,0,3358507.story
Angelica sat in the front seat, second from the right. She always had her hand up. She always asked what more she could do to do better. She was the only student to give me a Christmas card my first year teaching. And now she'll have to be remembered only by those acts she so graciously completed during her 14 years on this cruel, unfair Earth.
Angelica was my student, and she always will be my student.
Maybe she'll help me put the puzzle together, to help me understand this cruel and unfair life, where evil always seems to triumph over good in the unfortunate end.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Chaos & Journeys
In response to the following questions from my graduate classroom management class:
What's wrong with a little chaos in the classroom?
Do students think when they misbehave? Do they misbehave for a reason?
What daily factors make your profession difficult...and which facilitate your efforts? Name and elaborate the most important.
I think chaos in the classroom implies something is going on that is unable to be controlled or managed. Don't get me wrong, there are times when there is chaos in my classroom, but these are the times where I feel the most uneasy, where I feel the students are swinging from vines and I need to play the role of zookeeper dangling raw meat in front of them in order to get them to listen. This can be incredibly trying. On the other hand, however, there are times where I exhibit and enforce controlled chaos. This is chaos that I start, chaos that I provoke, through my inevitable tangents or longed-for (but rarely see) heated (or any form of emotion) arguments. This type of chaos can be relieving, where the entire plan is thrown out the window, but where a sense of accomplishment prevails over all of the chaos, sometimes more so than any structured lesson could have.
I think students sometimes think when they misbehave; sometimes they do not. Sometimes students will act out just to get under the teacher's last nerve, because they know they can. Other times, students will misbehave just because it is in their nature to be chatty or to be forgetful of any rules or regulations their teachers or any other prominent member of society has put on them. This latter form of misbehavior is just an act of carelessness, of not thinking "what will happen to person X if I do behavior Y?," something that can be hard for many of us to figure out.
These misbehaviors are what make my profession difficult. The road blocks that interrupt the lesson, the desired plan. However, upon reflection, the bigger picture is what facilitates my efforts in my profession from day to day. What I mean by that is, there may be little road blocks, which may seem like significant brushfires at the time (5 students asking to go to the bathroom at once, a fire drill during a crucial lesson, the student who won't stop talking), but it is the conviction to actually get past the roadblocks and achieve the goal of a lesson or unit, or to wake up the next day and drive yourself back to school at 6:50 in the morning to do it all over again, that really proves the journey worthwhile, despite all the rocks in the road.
While I was writing this, I was thinking the entire time of one 9th grade class I've been struggling with lately. They've been inattentive, rude, bored, lazy, chaotic, all of the attributes a teacher does not want to be teaching to. It's only fitting that we are studying The Odyssey in this class. Because as I am reflecting here, I am comparing myself and this class to Odysseus and his trials from the gods. All he wants to do is make it home, but he has to deal with Cyclopes, Sirens, and ship-wrecking whirlpools. In spite of all this, he doesn't give up and is able to overcome all obstacles and complete his desired journey. I suppose that's like teaching in a way, and we as teachers always have to keep our goals in mind, or we won't make it along the journey.
What's wrong with a little chaos in the classroom?
Do students think when they misbehave? Do they misbehave for a reason?
What daily factors make your profession difficult...and which facilitate your efforts? Name and elaborate the most important.
I think chaos in the classroom implies something is going on that is unable to be controlled or managed. Don't get me wrong, there are times when there is chaos in my classroom, but these are the times where I feel the most uneasy, where I feel the students are swinging from vines and I need to play the role of zookeeper dangling raw meat in front of them in order to get them to listen. This can be incredibly trying. On the other hand, however, there are times where I exhibit and enforce controlled chaos. This is chaos that I start, chaos that I provoke, through my inevitable tangents or longed-for (but rarely see) heated (or any form of emotion) arguments. This type of chaos can be relieving, where the entire plan is thrown out the window, but where a sense of accomplishment prevails over all of the chaos, sometimes more so than any structured lesson could have.
I think students sometimes think when they misbehave; sometimes they do not. Sometimes students will act out just to get under the teacher's last nerve, because they know they can. Other times, students will misbehave just because it is in their nature to be chatty or to be forgetful of any rules or regulations their teachers or any other prominent member of society has put on them. This latter form of misbehavior is just an act of carelessness, of not thinking "what will happen to person X if I do behavior Y?," something that can be hard for many of us to figure out.
These misbehaviors are what make my profession difficult. The road blocks that interrupt the lesson, the desired plan. However, upon reflection, the bigger picture is what facilitates my efforts in my profession from day to day. What I mean by that is, there may be little road blocks, which may seem like significant brushfires at the time (5 students asking to go to the bathroom at once, a fire drill during a crucial lesson, the student who won't stop talking), but it is the conviction to actually get past the roadblocks and achieve the goal of a lesson or unit, or to wake up the next day and drive yourself back to school at 6:50 in the morning to do it all over again, that really proves the journey worthwhile, despite all the rocks in the road.
While I was writing this, I was thinking the entire time of one 9th grade class I've been struggling with lately. They've been inattentive, rude, bored, lazy, chaotic, all of the attributes a teacher does not want to be teaching to. It's only fitting that we are studying The Odyssey in this class. Because as I am reflecting here, I am comparing myself and this class to Odysseus and his trials from the gods. All he wants to do is make it home, but he has to deal with Cyclopes, Sirens, and ship-wrecking whirlpools. In spite of all this, he doesn't give up and is able to overcome all obstacles and complete his desired journey. I suppose that's like teaching in a way, and we as teachers always have to keep our goals in mind, or we won't make it along the journey.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Yes, We Can
This is in response to the "Yes, We Can" Barack Obama speech and subsequent music video that was released by Will.I.Am.
I don't usually extend my political views on too many people, or on a scale of people outside a few close friends, but this video compelled me.
I think we need an inspiration to be the leader of this country. I think we should take the values of past uniters--Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy--and together rally around a candidate who wants to rejoin the country back to the United States of America that our Founding Fathers envisioned, not the Divided States of Red and Blue that our Confounded Brothers and Sisters have incited through corrupt, immoral acts that are degrading our society.
Other countries may destroy each other through bombings and other forms of selfless dehumanizing acts, but we are destroying each other by not looking out for one another in an economical, environmental and moral sense like we should.
Barack Obama inspires the hope in me that it is possible to change a nation for the better, to change a people for the better, to unite US into a state where WE are all proud to be one, all of us as Americans.
I'm going to end this by referring to a true crusader of a united people, Martin Luther King, who I see echoed in Senator Obama's rhetoric, something the latter has been getting criticized on lately. And it is not until after it was too late that we as a country united around the rhetoric of the former, who said: "The world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land. Confusion all around...But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars."
The time is now to unite around a star whose rhetoric and beliefs are enough to enlighten a country that has been in the dark for way too long. The light begins with Barack Obama.
I don't usually extend my political views on too many people, or on a scale of people outside a few close friends, but this video compelled me.
I think we need an inspiration to be the leader of this country. I think we should take the values of past uniters--Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy--and together rally around a candidate who wants to rejoin the country back to the United States of America that our Founding Fathers envisioned, not the Divided States of Red and Blue that our Confounded Brothers and Sisters have incited through corrupt, immoral acts that are degrading our society.
Other countries may destroy each other through bombings and other forms of selfless dehumanizing acts, but we are destroying each other by not looking out for one another in an economical, environmental and moral sense like we should.
Barack Obama inspires the hope in me that it is possible to change a nation for the better, to change a people for the better, to unite US into a state where WE are all proud to be one, all of us as Americans.
I'm going to end this by referring to a true crusader of a united people, Martin Luther King, who I see echoed in Senator Obama's rhetoric, something the latter has been getting criticized on lately. And it is not until after it was too late that we as a country united around the rhetoric of the former, who said: "The world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land. Confusion all around...But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars."
The time is now to unite around a star whose rhetoric and beliefs are enough to enlighten a country that has been in the dark for way too long. The light begins with Barack Obama.
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