Today a relative and his long-term companion were finally able to get legally married in Indiana. How exciting and joyous this news is! I can hardly sit still today, I am so excited!
Allowing ANYONE to get married - civil unions - has been a long time coming, and though there will probably be bumps along the way, there would seem to be a growing acceptance of the variety of ways human beings may express love and commitment as a civil right. I am very content to know that this is finally happening.
I've often wondered how people can say such awful things about the ways in which people are different from one another. I can't say I understand how one way is simply the right one, and another is deemed not. I do understand that some cry out for religious reasons, but I would argue their indignation comes from fear, not religious zeal. How does being homosexual affect someone else anymore than my green eyes do? That is what it boils down to for me.
And if one believes in hell, what difference does it make if a group of people go there rather than heaven? And why is it up to one group of people to decide what is the right way to get there and which is not? Believe what you want to believe of course, and you should be free to express it. It does not mean that your expression should infringe on others beliefs. Isn't that why so many came to this country in the first place? To escape persecution?
I wonder how being homosexual, asexual, heterosexual, transgender, or any other label really impacts others. It isn't like one group recruits for another after all, and what someone chooses to do with another consenting adult in the privacy of their own homes is of no business of mine. I find that there are wonderful, creative, thoughtful, spiritual, caring, loving, energetic people in all walks of life, in a variety of human forms that seem to have little to do with their sexual orientation. Being a good person, father, mother, sister, brother, friend, colleague, or partner is an expression of the heart and soul of a person. Who we are should be judged by the way in which we treat others in this world in my book. That is the way I would prefer to be evaluated, so why would I not believe all people should be evaluated by what is in their hearts and actions in this world?
I have known people in my life that are just awful human beings. We were talking about a few today, and I wondered aloud to my husband why these middle-aged women in particular thought it was alright to be rude, mean - and really in some ways bullying - to the 21-year old me. I forgave them long ago, but I trust the universe has plans for their past behaviors. They do not fall in the group I mentioned above, but they went to church every Sunday and were heterosexual. And awful human beings at the time.
These are all random thoughts, and I am rambling I suppose, already defensive about my happiness for two people we love. My point is we are each given a life and we have to navigate our way through the world. For some of us, we are given privilege and rights simply by being born with various abilities, a certain color, gender, sexual-orientation, or socio-economic status that others are not. I would hope that each of us would take a minute to think about the ways we might have advantages that others have never had as a result of these things. These are not rights - they are a result of our birth, not a choice. Holding onto those privileges seems to be the focus of our society rather than acceptance, tolerance, and love. Those are the values I thought were most important.
Brings me back to this happy day. Two people I love dearly were finally given the opportunity to marry each other and declare their commitment in public. They are a great couple, and each makes the other a better person when they are together. They have someone to share the day with, their joys and sorrows with and that should be what everyone has the opportunity to have in their lives. I have shed a few tears of joy today thinking of the day they were finally able to have together. We love them dearly, and hope that others will be just as happy for them as we are!
Friday, June 27, 2014
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Professionalism and the Future of Teachers
I hit a wall today hard. With a loud thud. I feel a little like a caged animal, trapped without realizing I had stepped into the cage, and struggling to find a way out. So here's the story, but here is the background first.
When I came to North Carolina, I finished a Ph.D. in Music Education at the University of North Carolina Greensboro. That entailed a 6-hour test over music theory and history to get into the university (I passed and didn't have to take remediation coursework). I had to take a written comprehensive examination that required three 8-hour days, nine questions, and about 60 pages of words. All out of my noggin, not using any resources. Then I had to go in front of a committee for my oral examination. I passed with distinction. I wrote a dissertation, and I passed the oral examination/presentation required as my final hurdle. I was hooded in the fine month of May, 2011, graduating from UNCG.
I started teaching at ECU in the Fall of 2011, and was required to pay the $55 for a NC Teaching License in order to teach teachers how to teach. Okay. I can do that. I have 27 years of teaching experience in Indiana, a life license there with a Master's degree and 28 hours past my masters, PLUS now the doctorate. I have papers, if not the pedigree, to do the job. A formality, right?
Here's the catch. The state of North Carolina has determined that I must take 7.5 CEU's every THREE years and pay $55 to renew the license, and I am not considered a 'teacher''. I am only allowed to teach teachers. No, wait, there is 'good' news! I can be considered a REAL teacher, if I take the Praxis II for music and if I pass. Then I can have a license that requires me to turn in 7.5 CEU's every FIVE years, and pay $55 to renew my license. Over the course of the time I intend to teach, that is about $210 the state will have collected in 'fees'. Hmmm...
Might I say, that I am not only humiliated, exasperated, but also insulted. Insulted that politicians think they know better than someone who has spent a lifetime in education, how one might best do the job. When I heard I would need to pass the Praxis II, I thought of the written driving tests. Just because you can pass one doesn't mean you should be on the road driving. I have been 'driving' as an educational expert for a while now, and that should count. My experience should be respected. My degree, from an institution in the same state, should be respected.
I am not upset that I would need certification of some kind. Nor that I have to renew it. I am upset that if I keep the license without being a "real" teacher, I have to take MORE courses (CEU's) to do so. Why? Doesn't my degree buy me something? How about all the time I have spent in the classroom? I need to be policed as a beginning teacher the entire time I am teaching in NC? Doesn't anyone get this?
What other profession allows people from outside the area of study to determine what is best for certification for entry into the profession? Do beauty schools have electricians determining licensing? Do doctors allow plumbers to set the standards for practice? And would plumbers want musicians setting their practice standards? When will educational professionals be allowed to determine what is best for them? Why should a university professor take the same test as an undergraduate preservice teacher in order to be licensed? Haven't they been tested enough? We have rules set by the National Association of Schools of Music, with guidelines for accreditation
I am angry. And I know that it is only a test, and I could take it and shut up. But that doesn't solve the problem of treating teachers, and in this particular breath teacher-educators, as consummate professionals. I have given time, energy, and the better part of my life to this career. I don't think I need to prove anything to anyone for a piece of $55 dollar paper that says what my degree already says. I can do this. I am doing this. And if we don't stand up and fight for this, when will it change? Taking any test, and continuing to PAY to do my job is ridiculous. I have been tested enough and I am done with this nonsense.
There is my wall. Thud.
When I came to North Carolina, I finished a Ph.D. in Music Education at the University of North Carolina Greensboro. That entailed a 6-hour test over music theory and history to get into the university (I passed and didn't have to take remediation coursework). I had to take a written comprehensive examination that required three 8-hour days, nine questions, and about 60 pages of words. All out of my noggin, not using any resources. Then I had to go in front of a committee for my oral examination. I passed with distinction. I wrote a dissertation, and I passed the oral examination/presentation required as my final hurdle. I was hooded in the fine month of May, 2011, graduating from UNCG.
I started teaching at ECU in the Fall of 2011, and was required to pay the $55 for a NC Teaching License in order to teach teachers how to teach. Okay. I can do that. I have 27 years of teaching experience in Indiana, a life license there with a Master's degree and 28 hours past my masters, PLUS now the doctorate. I have papers, if not the pedigree, to do the job. A formality, right?
Here's the catch. The state of North Carolina has determined that I must take 7.5 CEU's every THREE years and pay $55 to renew the license, and I am not considered a 'teacher''. I am only allowed to teach teachers. No, wait, there is 'good' news! I can be considered a REAL teacher, if I take the Praxis II for music and if I pass. Then I can have a license that requires me to turn in 7.5 CEU's every FIVE years, and pay $55 to renew my license. Over the course of the time I intend to teach, that is about $210 the state will have collected in 'fees'. Hmmm...
Might I say, that I am not only humiliated, exasperated, but also insulted. Insulted that politicians think they know better than someone who has spent a lifetime in education, how one might best do the job. When I heard I would need to pass the Praxis II, I thought of the written driving tests. Just because you can pass one doesn't mean you should be on the road driving. I have been 'driving' as an educational expert for a while now, and that should count. My experience should be respected. My degree, from an institution in the same state, should be respected.
I am not upset that I would need certification of some kind. Nor that I have to renew it. I am upset that if I keep the license without being a "real" teacher, I have to take MORE courses (CEU's) to do so. Why? Doesn't my degree buy me something? How about all the time I have spent in the classroom? I need to be policed as a beginning teacher the entire time I am teaching in NC? Doesn't anyone get this?
What other profession allows people from outside the area of study to determine what is best for certification for entry into the profession? Do beauty schools have electricians determining licensing? Do doctors allow plumbers to set the standards for practice? And would plumbers want musicians setting their practice standards? When will educational professionals be allowed to determine what is best for them? Why should a university professor take the same test as an undergraduate preservice teacher in order to be licensed? Haven't they been tested enough? We have rules set by the National Association of Schools of Music, with guidelines for accreditation
I am angry. And I know that it is only a test, and I could take it and shut up. But that doesn't solve the problem of treating teachers, and in this particular breath teacher-educators, as consummate professionals. I have given time, energy, and the better part of my life to this career. I don't think I need to prove anything to anyone for a piece of $55 dollar paper that says what my degree already says. I can do this. I am doing this. And if we don't stand up and fight for this, when will it change? Taking any test, and continuing to PAY to do my job is ridiculous. I have been tested enough and I am done with this nonsense.
There is my wall. Thud.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
The 3 AM Demons
As it would happen, I need to go into work this morning for the first time this semester, but at 3:15 AM, I awoke and haven't been able to lull myself back to sleep. This used to happen to me every so often as a young adult, and truly doesn't happen much anymore. Usually when it does, there is some over-riding reason for the anxiety I awaken with. I feel the anxiety physically and yet feel a need to sleep, like it is a bad dream. To get back to sleep, I try to visualize placing the problem in a box and closing the lid. Usually it helps. This time, I couldn't place a finger on what to put in the box, and visualizing myself getting in became problematic and rather Freudian. So I made a list.
Here were my worries as I recall:
I suppose that some of these worries have real weight. Money matters, family, facing your own mortality. All are serious issues, but at three in the morning, they become this blob of anxiety. Then there are professional line items. Not sure there is much I can do about NAfME or whether or not my comments at NCMEA were odd or interpreted differently than I intended, but the fact that I can't wrap my mind around the sense of the mileage claims has really stuck in my craw. Perhaps my son-in-law can explain that one to me.
Finally, the itchy skin that kind of comes and goes. I really need to let a medical professional look at it again because the online stuff can be way too freaky to wade through and might create further worry. It better not be chocolate or coffee causing that. That would just be mean.
I am pretty darn sure most of us are anxious about things and are awakened by a list of anxieties occasionally. The 3AM Demons I usually call them, and I wonder if there is a research study detailing why that happens and if early man suffered from them as well. Did I kill that animal fast enough or did it suffer? Really, does the cave need to be bigger and need more fire pits? Can I get a replacement on our bear rug soon, or is this going to be another ten-year ordeal? And how about my contemporaries that I admire? And do famous people worry about things the same way or more famously and fabulously? Or do those folks have anxieties in a different vortex (or would that be vorti)? And now that I am thinking about it, why do we call this blast of polar air a vortex again? I didn't listen very well at all yesterday when Al explained it I know now.
How do you cope with your demons at 3AM? Do you visualize a place to tuck your problems or anxieties away for later? Is there a trick I am missing? Right now, I am thinking warm milk and a soft blanket curled up on the couch with a cat on my lap might help keep them at bay so I can get some sleep. After all, I need to be up in two hours!
Here were my worries as I recall:
- The polar vortex. I was actually dreaming about it. And Scotland.
- I am not a grandparent yet. What if I am not good at it?
- I think I might have sounded arrogant at my first NCMEA meeting. Or pessimistic. Or I don't know how I sounded. But I should worry about it apparently.
- Is my best friend from college back from visiting her daughter in Scotland? Where is she?
- My courses for next term. Just because I get anxious before I teach.
- Life insurance policies. I cancelled our big ones but how much is enough for us?
- Travel woes. Will I be able to save the money, and find the money, to go to Brazil for the International Society of Music Education Conference in July? I applied for two sessions to present. Was that a mistake?
- NAfME - why did you take the researchers/higher educators away from the practitioners? That really upsets me on so many levels.
- My children. Just because I can.
- The far right politics of NC that have irritated my liberal sensibilities beyond belief.
- Being reimbursed 30 cents a mile when I drive for over 100 miles to visit student teachers. But I get 56 cents a mile for 99 miles. And is that one trip? total miles? why did it change? who is the committee that sent that down through the college of ed? I am so confused on why that is fiscally sound. Or necessary.
- Itchy skin. It may have been the initial reason I woke up.
I suppose that some of these worries have real weight. Money matters, family, facing your own mortality. All are serious issues, but at three in the morning, they become this blob of anxiety. Then there are professional line items. Not sure there is much I can do about NAfME or whether or not my comments at NCMEA were odd or interpreted differently than I intended, but the fact that I can't wrap my mind around the sense of the mileage claims has really stuck in my craw. Perhaps my son-in-law can explain that one to me.
Finally, the itchy skin that kind of comes and goes. I really need to let a medical professional look at it again because the online stuff can be way too freaky to wade through and might create further worry. It better not be chocolate or coffee causing that. That would just be mean.
I am pretty darn sure most of us are anxious about things and are awakened by a list of anxieties occasionally. The 3AM Demons I usually call them, and I wonder if there is a research study detailing why that happens and if early man suffered from them as well. Did I kill that animal fast enough or did it suffer? Really, does the cave need to be bigger and need more fire pits? Can I get a replacement on our bear rug soon, or is this going to be another ten-year ordeal? And how about my contemporaries that I admire? And do famous people worry about things the same way or more famously and fabulously? Or do those folks have anxieties in a different vortex (or would that be vorti)? And now that I am thinking about it, why do we call this blast of polar air a vortex again? I didn't listen very well at all yesterday when Al explained it I know now.
How do you cope with your demons at 3AM? Do you visualize a place to tuck your problems or anxieties away for later? Is there a trick I am missing? Right now, I am thinking warm milk and a soft blanket curled up on the couch with a cat on my lap might help keep them at bay so I can get some sleep. After all, I need to be up in two hours!
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Confronting Issues of Social Justice
Two events have collided this week for me. A personal experience crossed into the fiasco I have seen unfold on the news. Let me start with my personal story.
First, we had a landscaper come in to help clear an area of our yard that was overgrown and not cared for when we moved in. We wanted to get down to the floor of the lawn, overgrown with vines and leaves, and trim up the trees, taking out a dead one. My husband had discussed this with the neighbor one day, and she seemed excited that we were planning to do this, stating they wanted that too. So when we started the clean-up, we were not particularly worried about the property line, but clearing the area, most of which was in our yard. Or so we thought.
Sure enough, the man next door came over and chewed out the landscaper's assistant. Colorfully I guess. Once we caught wind of it, we pointed out the line and asked them to make sure they left the neighbor's side alone. We were confused about it, but since the neighbors never came over to talk with us, we assumed it was a bad day, and that things were fine. We were wrong. The next day, he came over again, approaching the assistant first, accusing him of trespassing. The landscaper finally got involved and asked the man to speak with us. I saw him approach the landscaping crew, so I went to get my husband to talk with the neighbor. As Mark left the front of the house, the neighbor walked quickly into his house. This dance happened several times. The neighbor appeared to avoid us at any cost and chose to chew out the assistant. Hang in there - I have a point.
So on day three, I wandered into our backyard, as the landscaping crew was working within our fence, and asked if there were any more issues. Our landscaper smiled and then pointed to the assistant and said, 'No, but he has a theory for you. Go ahead, she won't mind.' The assistant said to me, (and I am paraphrasing and trying to give you a bit of the spoken language - it is part of the story) 'Don't you be naive. This ain't about the line, this 'bout having a black man working with a machete on your property. Had this happen before ma'am, so I know what I sayin! Got let go from a job cause the owner don't want no black man on his land. This the south. White folk don't like no black folk in the neighborhood, no way. That what you dealin' with here, I sure of it.' I just couldn't speak. I finally choked out, 'I am sorry,' but I had no words for him. What could I say?
We talked about it that evening, and I wondered, could this be part of the issue, or is it a bad coincidence? Why had we not considered racial prejudice a part of our property line issue? Of course I noticed his race. I didn't consider what working in our neighborhood might mean. What is our neighborhood and why? I know it is racially-mixed, but obviously our guests did not. And does our neighbor have a differing view? And of course, being a woman, I know what it feels like to be treated differently, so I also don't want to diminish anyone else's experiences by saying, "Oh, I am sure that isn't it." So sorry was all I could say...and yet, what was I apologizing for?
So take two, the issue with Paula Deen. I feel awful about the entire situation, but probably not for the same reason. I have no particular sympathy for Deen. She had no issue perpetuating stereotypes of the Antebellem South as if it is a simpler time we should yearn for. It blatantly shows her complete ignorance of issues of racism and slavery. Why would anyone want to promote this as an ideal part of our history - particularly when racism and oppression continue across our planet. Should she be a spokesperson for the new, gentle south? I think not. But she does represent what I see as a south "all dressed up with a dirty neck." We want to present the south as beautifully cultured, but the issues of cultural prejudice continue beneath the surface. Do I think the Food Network should drop Deen? They have no choice but to do so.
So my world has collided with the bigger world this week, and I am forced to think even more deeply about how we confront racism, stereotypes, or inequities on a daily basis. I feel great guilt for being white in this place, knowing the ugliness that has existed here. So how do I change it? My husband and I both made a point of shaking all the landscapers hands and thanking them, eye to eye. It isn't enough, but what if each of us chose to meet each other openly, talking about the issues we face as human beings. And I have to find new ways of helping my students uncover their own preconceptions and cultural stereotypes or we perpetuate these issues. We have to talk about those things that are hardest to talk about.
Here is the bigger picture for me. We can't fight prejudice against culture, gender, sexual preference or socioeconomic status if we don't confront the assumptions we make. And we can't confront those if we aren't willing to hear what someone else is trying to tell us. I am not beyond my own prejudices. I have realized that I am ready to apply my stereotype belief like the one I hold about athletes (not bright, only worried about their bodies), or about the rich (vacuous, self-centered, wanting to keep their money to themselves). I would say men like Paula Deen's brother Bubba make my skin crawl, as I identify him as the type of man who makes me so uncomfortable. I imagine the sexual innuendos he probably makes that I am supposed to accept as him being funny, or the ways in which he puts women in their place with stereotypical comments about their sexuality. It reminds me of the times I was unable to stand up for myself, even when I felt I was being put down for my gender and the job I did.
First, we had a landscaper come in to help clear an area of our yard that was overgrown and not cared for when we moved in. We wanted to get down to the floor of the lawn, overgrown with vines and leaves, and trim up the trees, taking out a dead one. My husband had discussed this with the neighbor one day, and she seemed excited that we were planning to do this, stating they wanted that too. So when we started the clean-up, we were not particularly worried about the property line, but clearing the area, most of which was in our yard. Or so we thought.
Sure enough, the man next door came over and chewed out the landscaper's assistant. Colorfully I guess. Once we caught wind of it, we pointed out the line and asked them to make sure they left the neighbor's side alone. We were confused about it, but since the neighbors never came over to talk with us, we assumed it was a bad day, and that things were fine. We were wrong. The next day, he came over again, approaching the assistant first, accusing him of trespassing. The landscaper finally got involved and asked the man to speak with us. I saw him approach the landscaping crew, so I went to get my husband to talk with the neighbor. As Mark left the front of the house, the neighbor walked quickly into his house. This dance happened several times. The neighbor appeared to avoid us at any cost and chose to chew out the assistant. Hang in there - I have a point.
So on day three, I wandered into our backyard, as the landscaping crew was working within our fence, and asked if there were any more issues. Our landscaper smiled and then pointed to the assistant and said, 'No, but he has a theory for you. Go ahead, she won't mind.' The assistant said to me, (and I am paraphrasing and trying to give you a bit of the spoken language - it is part of the story) 'Don't you be naive. This ain't about the line, this 'bout having a black man working with a machete on your property. Had this happen before ma'am, so I know what I sayin! Got let go from a job cause the owner don't want no black man on his land. This the south. White folk don't like no black folk in the neighborhood, no way. That what you dealin' with here, I sure of it.' I just couldn't speak. I finally choked out, 'I am sorry,' but I had no words for him. What could I say?
We talked about it that evening, and I wondered, could this be part of the issue, or is it a bad coincidence? Why had we not considered racial prejudice a part of our property line issue? Of course I noticed his race. I didn't consider what working in our neighborhood might mean. What is our neighborhood and why? I know it is racially-mixed, but obviously our guests did not. And does our neighbor have a differing view? And of course, being a woman, I know what it feels like to be treated differently, so I also don't want to diminish anyone else's experiences by saying, "Oh, I am sure that isn't it." So sorry was all I could say...and yet, what was I apologizing for?
So take two, the issue with Paula Deen. I feel awful about the entire situation, but probably not for the same reason. I have no particular sympathy for Deen. She had no issue perpetuating stereotypes of the Antebellem South as if it is a simpler time we should yearn for. It blatantly shows her complete ignorance of issues of racism and slavery. Why would anyone want to promote this as an ideal part of our history - particularly when racism and oppression continue across our planet. Should she be a spokesperson for the new, gentle south? I think not. But she does represent what I see as a south "all dressed up with a dirty neck." We want to present the south as beautifully cultured, but the issues of cultural prejudice continue beneath the surface. Do I think the Food Network should drop Deen? They have no choice but to do so.
So my world has collided with the bigger world this week, and I am forced to think even more deeply about how we confront racism, stereotypes, or inequities on a daily basis. I feel great guilt for being white in this place, knowing the ugliness that has existed here. So how do I change it? My husband and I both made a point of shaking all the landscapers hands and thanking them, eye to eye. It isn't enough, but what if each of us chose to meet each other openly, talking about the issues we face as human beings. And I have to find new ways of helping my students uncover their own preconceptions and cultural stereotypes or we perpetuate these issues. We have to talk about those things that are hardest to talk about.
Here is the bigger picture for me. We can't fight prejudice against culture, gender, sexual preference or socioeconomic status if we don't confront the assumptions we make. And we can't confront those if we aren't willing to hear what someone else is trying to tell us. I am not beyond my own prejudices. I have realized that I am ready to apply my stereotype belief like the one I hold about athletes (not bright, only worried about their bodies), or about the rich (vacuous, self-centered, wanting to keep their money to themselves). I would say men like Paula Deen's brother Bubba make my skin crawl, as I identify him as the type of man who makes me so uncomfortable. I imagine the sexual innuendos he probably makes that I am supposed to accept as him being funny, or the ways in which he puts women in their place with stereotypical comments about their sexuality. It reminds me of the times I was unable to stand up for myself, even when I felt I was being put down for my gender and the job I did.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Fighting Stereotypes
We all do it. Each of us lives with certain assumptions about other people. The rich are selfish, conniving, materialistic folks, devoid of the milk of human kindness. The poor take welfare checks and buy iPhones, leaving their rent unpaid, and as such are undeserving of our help or support. Let the churches help them, but leave my tax dollars alone. The problem with our assumptions of the socioeconomics of our fellow man is that we simply do not have a clue.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails...
It has become somewhat of a Fall tradition to celebrate with a family birthday weekend, gathering in Raleigh to spend a day playing in the city and selecting a fine dining experience before retiring very late, sleeping just a little, and having a big breakfast before heading home. In the spring, we are hard-pressed to get the family together even with Easter right around the corner. But tomorrow is our youngest child's birthday. For about a month, I have
been thinking about, and hoping to spend the day with him, just as I do
with our oldest child in the fall. We are going to manage to do so ON the day of his birth, driving up to take him shopping, lunch, and present
him with gifts worthy of a 28-year old man.
It is also a time I feel nostalgic about our kids, in a way that grips my heart a bit. After all, giving birth changes your life forever and you learn to love in a way that is impossible to explain with words. I wonder at the amazing people they have become, knowing I may have been a part of that but understanding it was only a very small part. I feel so thankful I married a man who was my partner through these many ups and downs of child-rearing, sharing in every aspect of their lives from the very beginning. I am indebted to the many people along the way who helped shape them and offered encouragement in their lives - both to them and to us! I find that I am able to forgive the transgressions and know it has made them stronger and taught me lessons on letting go and allowing my children to grow and find themselves in the process.
Around their birthdays, I pour over old pictures of their newborn faces, wonder at how tiny they were, and how quickly they grew. It seems now they grew up in a week, yet I remember at the time I thought it would last forever. I vowed I would never regret a minute of raising our children. Though there are no regrets specifically (I mean, who wouldn't wish they had had more patience?), I wouldn't mind feeling that grimey little hand tugging at my skirt and to look down into those big blue eyes and wide grin from either of my children. I remember them best at about 3 and 6, with the youngest as a happy, giggly, wiggly little boy and his sister, serious, contemplative, and loving. The two together were often tangled in a war of power or ownership, but most often I have a video in my mind of the two children with the oldest in the lead, followed by a tow-headed little guy hanging on her every word...played out, of course, as only an intelligent, worldly big sister can. The two of them at that age seems more etched in my memory...to the point that at times, I still see that child in the depth of their eyes today.
I don't wish for time to play out differently. Nostalgia is a part of growing older. Instead, we are constantly amazed at the wonderful human beings they have become. Not perfect, mind you, just nice, kind people, sensitive to the needs of the world around them, and working hard to find their place in it. We are so very proud of the people they are, and we enjoy being around them, with them, and they are still teaching us about life. Now, we are learning how to be parents to adult children.
So tomorrow we celebrate, laugh, enjoy the moments, and I will try to pack those memories away for the future. And I wish him a year of love, laughter, and dreams coming true as only his mother can.
It is also a time I feel nostalgic about our kids, in a way that grips my heart a bit. After all, giving birth changes your life forever and you learn to love in a way that is impossible to explain with words. I wonder at the amazing people they have become, knowing I may have been a part of that but understanding it was only a very small part. I feel so thankful I married a man who was my partner through these many ups and downs of child-rearing, sharing in every aspect of their lives from the very beginning. I am indebted to the many people along the way who helped shape them and offered encouragement in their lives - both to them and to us! I find that I am able to forgive the transgressions and know it has made them stronger and taught me lessons on letting go and allowing my children to grow and find themselves in the process.
Around their birthdays, I pour over old pictures of their newborn faces, wonder at how tiny they were, and how quickly they grew. It seems now they grew up in a week, yet I remember at the time I thought it would last forever. I vowed I would never regret a minute of raising our children. Though there are no regrets specifically (I mean, who wouldn't wish they had had more patience?), I wouldn't mind feeling that grimey little hand tugging at my skirt and to look down into those big blue eyes and wide grin from either of my children. I remember them best at about 3 and 6, with the youngest as a happy, giggly, wiggly little boy and his sister, serious, contemplative, and loving. The two together were often tangled in a war of power or ownership, but most often I have a video in my mind of the two children with the oldest in the lead, followed by a tow-headed little guy hanging on her every word...played out, of course, as only an intelligent, worldly big sister can. The two of them at that age seems more etched in my memory...to the point that at times, I still see that child in the depth of their eyes today.
I don't wish for time to play out differently. Nostalgia is a part of growing older. Instead, we are constantly amazed at the wonderful human beings they have become. Not perfect, mind you, just nice, kind people, sensitive to the needs of the world around them, and working hard to find their place in it. We are so very proud of the people they are, and we enjoy being around them, with them, and they are still teaching us about life. Now, we are learning how to be parents to adult children.
So tomorrow we celebrate, laugh, enjoy the moments, and I will try to pack those memories away for the future. And I wish him a year of love, laughter, and dreams coming true as only his mother can.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Where Ideas Germinate
As the new year is once again upon me, I thought I would think about what I have learned the past year. I am sure there is plenty to write about, but what comes to me tonight is my settling into the new job. Though occupation doesn't define us, it does certainly color our lives. For me, teaching has been a calling, and growing into this job has been a real gift.
I try to see the glass as half-full in most areas of my life. Sometimes, I suppose, folks perceive that as naive. I prefer to try to think things through before voicing the negative. Always the best choice when you are without, well, a lot of proof. You know, the whole assumption of innocence thing! For some reason, I really thought that the university glass tower was a place where ideas come to germinate. I have changed my mind and have decided that higher education is really not much different from other walks of life, in that ideas aren't guaranteed fertile soil. It isn't with sadness that I say that - it is simply a more realistic perspective gained over the past 18 months.
The ivory tower, I had always assumed, was such because it was disconnected from the practical, a place where ideas lived as a jungle of overgrowth, heavy with amazing vegetation. The tower for me represented my need to see the world in new ways, to find new paths to share with others, and to have time to think. I still think that is true to some extent. What I have discovered is that there are many wonderful, fertile lands inside the ivory tower...but there are also a few lands which have been exhausted. Now I know I am mixing metaphors, but stay with me! When a crop has been planted too many years in a row, over and over in the same piece of land, the land is stripped of its nutrients. As a result, future crops wither. A field has to have rotated crops, and fallow (rest) to remain fertile. Crop rotation is as ancient as farming is I suppose. So if we think about people and their ideas as crops, then I suppose we need fresh ideas or at least different ones introduced to keep our minds fertile. Staying inside the ivory tower - or anywhere for that matter - without refreshing our perspectives means that our minds begin to atrophy. We become the very thing I believed the ivory tower could resist! Our minds close, we become oblivious to new ideas, and we atrophy to the convention of the ivory tower, or whatever context we are in at the time.
My conclusion is that curiosity about the world is not a simple matter of the individual nor a simple matter of context. It is some combination of both. It is the individual who keeps his mind fertile for new ideas to germinate and something more. The new ideas need fresh air, warm sunshine, cool nights, and plenty of water to really take root and grow. That would be the context. So matching the individual with ideas, to the context, may also be important. For each idea, just like different plant species, that could mean different amounts of air, light, dark, and water, different growing times...and so on. So it is possible that some ideas might take root in some places and not others. And some people may be better suited for certain terrains than others.
So it is possible that ideas aren't more likely to flourish in the ivory tower, even if some are more conducive to their growth. It is the individuals who really make these things happen. I feel so fortunate that I have found a context that is providing what I need personally to thrive and grow. It has been one of the most pleasant places I have ever worked, and I feel very much like I can grow into the job. My discovery is also important, as I hope to remember that I am responsible for rotating the crops - for guarding against stripped soil, and making sure I continue to stretch beyond my comfort zone. As we begin 2013, I look forward to the challenges and the joys of tending to the germinating ideas around me. Happy New Year!
I try to see the glass as half-full in most areas of my life. Sometimes, I suppose, folks perceive that as naive. I prefer to try to think things through before voicing the negative. Always the best choice when you are without, well, a lot of proof. You know, the whole assumption of innocence thing! For some reason, I really thought that the university glass tower was a place where ideas come to germinate. I have changed my mind and have decided that higher education is really not much different from other walks of life, in that ideas aren't guaranteed fertile soil. It isn't with sadness that I say that - it is simply a more realistic perspective gained over the past 18 months.
The ivory tower, I had always assumed, was such because it was disconnected from the practical, a place where ideas lived as a jungle of overgrowth, heavy with amazing vegetation. The tower for me represented my need to see the world in new ways, to find new paths to share with others, and to have time to think. I still think that is true to some extent. What I have discovered is that there are many wonderful, fertile lands inside the ivory tower...but there are also a few lands which have been exhausted. Now I know I am mixing metaphors, but stay with me! When a crop has been planted too many years in a row, over and over in the same piece of land, the land is stripped of its nutrients. As a result, future crops wither. A field has to have rotated crops, and fallow (rest) to remain fertile. Crop rotation is as ancient as farming is I suppose. So if we think about people and their ideas as crops, then I suppose we need fresh ideas or at least different ones introduced to keep our minds fertile. Staying inside the ivory tower - or anywhere for that matter - without refreshing our perspectives means that our minds begin to atrophy. We become the very thing I believed the ivory tower could resist! Our minds close, we become oblivious to new ideas, and we atrophy to the convention of the ivory tower, or whatever context we are in at the time.
My conclusion is that curiosity about the world is not a simple matter of the individual nor a simple matter of context. It is some combination of both. It is the individual who keeps his mind fertile for new ideas to germinate and something more. The new ideas need fresh air, warm sunshine, cool nights, and plenty of water to really take root and grow. That would be the context. So matching the individual with ideas, to the context, may also be important. For each idea, just like different plant species, that could mean different amounts of air, light, dark, and water, different growing times...and so on. So it is possible that some ideas might take root in some places and not others. And some people may be better suited for certain terrains than others.
So it is possible that ideas aren't more likely to flourish in the ivory tower, even if some are more conducive to their growth. It is the individuals who really make these things happen. I feel so fortunate that I have found a context that is providing what I need personally to thrive and grow. It has been one of the most pleasant places I have ever worked, and I feel very much like I can grow into the job. My discovery is also important, as I hope to remember that I am responsible for rotating the crops - for guarding against stripped soil, and making sure I continue to stretch beyond my comfort zone. As we begin 2013, I look forward to the challenges and the joys of tending to the germinating ideas around me. Happy New Year!
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