Going to the Zoo?

Those that know me know that I do not do zoos. I dont like animals caged, often in extreme heat, on display for sitckey, popcicled youg-ins. The animals even look miserable. I would be. Someday we will be the ones behind bars and weird aliens will be looking at us, "Look at the blonde one," and, "That one is fat," and, "Look, that one is brushing her teeth!" Anyways, last Saturday I went with a friend of mine to a "zoo" in Johnson City. I say its a zoo, but it more like a sanctuary as the animals they have were given to them. As such, they really dont have many exotics (A pair of lemurs, couple of zebra and a camel or two). But, the amazing thing about this place is that visitors get to ride on a trailer and feed the animals, pet them, and have them, well accost you. It was awesome. I pet a zebra and a camel, had goats and llamas bowl me over for my feed bucket, feed and pet a buffalo, a camel, and various other creatures.

Mentors

My thoughts after reading Ken Robinson's, The Element (2009):
Guidance from others is such an important part of knowing what you want to be, inhabiting the space between passion and aptitude wherein our full potential resides. Or, so I think. I believe that having someone to guide us, to give us aid when we need it most is vastly important for it is often that they see something in us that we ourselves do not see. Good mentors raise a person's self-esteem, make them feel that they are worthy and wanted, smart and able. Or, at least good mentors do that. They recognize what nurturing could do for a person, seeing a light inside that reminds them of someone successful, something more than is there now, can tell that with nurturing something spectacular would blossom. They fan the flames of interest into a genuine passion--I see it as exalted work.
So, according to Ken, there are four roles of mentors: 1) recognition-Mentors must recognize a spark and fan it to flame; 2) encouragement-Mentors believe we can do things that might seem impossible without them. They dont let someone succumb to self-doubt for too long and guide our hand, pushing and pulling as is needed; 3) facilitating-Mentors provide strategies and advice and even paving he way for us; 4) stretching-Effective mentors dont allow us to sit idle, to be less than we can be and are able to remind us that we are put on this Earth to push boundries, our own and others'.
Effective mentors are able to push and pull, nudge and remind, find power within us which helps to fuel their power as well. These people inspire us and lead us to marvel at what we have done. They share in our successes as if their own. They open our eyes to possibilities that inspire us. They drive us to follow their examples, moving us to take on roles and then supporting us in our pursuit of the goals. Mentors show us the next steps and help us to take them. While I imagine myself to be a mentor of others, most specifically the preservice teachers I work with , I wonder if I realize the power I have to inspire them or to deny them helpful signposts to success. Do I even know what it means to be successful? What does it mean to be successful anyway? Where is my mentor at this stage in my life? Do I have one?

I've worked with children with special needs my whole adult life but yesterday, I really saw the beauty in their simple views of the world. I saw a child with multiple disabilities, for whom it is possible to wonder if he is even in the world I inhabit, smile as his hand touched a waterfall. When such children play, they are the same as any child, just more simple and yet more complex, but their beauty, so inspiring.

New Orleans

I love that town. So full of culture and great food. The people, the music, the feel of the city. Alive and kicking. Stayed off Canal Street in a nice hotel, ate amazing food (even at Emeril's restaurant) and listend to some amazing street jazz. Oh yeah, and talked about a study concerning guided reading and Read180.

Spring Break 2011

Had a nice Spring Break this year, some time in Dallas with family and a day in Austin, several in San Antonio.

How Good Do We Have to Be?

There seems to be something in the human soul that causes us to think less of ourselves every time we do something wrong. It may be the result of parents who expectedntoo much of us, or teachers who took for granted what we did right and paid attention to the things we did wrong, detailing our issues in red pen. And maybe it is good for us to feel that way. It may make us more sensitive to what we do wrong and move us to repent and grow. But it may also lead us to our setting unrealistically high standards for ourselves and others.

I believe much of the unhappiness people feel burdened witth, much of the guilt, much of the sense of being cheated by life, stems from one of tow related causes: a parent, a teacher, someone important, gave them the message that they were not good enough, and they believed it. It is in our notion that we could expect perfection of ourselves (because others did) and in that, others could be expected to be perfect too. Such acts leaves us feeling constantly guilty and perpetually disappointed.

I can remember so many occasions from my growing-up years and my life as an adult, occasions of shame, feeling I had disappointed people who were judging me and fallen short of what I wanted to be. What is remarkable is not that that happened, but that decades later, I still remember them and the longer I think of them, they still have the power to hurt. Why? Memories are powerful.

And thus, I need to learn to forgive. Forgive myself. Forgive others. For when we forgive, we come to see what someone did to us is not the result of malice or dismissal of our feelings, but as a result of human weakness, impatience, and imperfection. I must choose happiness over righteousness and to remember not to be jealous. There is enough love to go around.

"guilt is the product of an individual conscious, shame is the product of a community," said Dr. Herald Krusner.

Everything Old is New Again

My days seem to be too much the same. I'm sure that is true for all of working humanity. We get up, walk the doggie, have coffee, take a shower, and go to work until we leave, come home, watch TV ( damn you DVR), and head to bed. Same. Same. Currently, I have the dream schedule, well, not dream, but pretty good. I work on Monday-Wednesday till 10pm and them am off. The problem is the "off". I have work to do, I simply must work on manuscripts, preparations for class, and other sundry A&M tasks, but I dally around the tasks on my days off, work some, but not terribly efficient and certainly not as much as I could. And, while the dally might be somewhat earned while not necessary, it is inhibiting my ability to use my schedule to my advantage. There isn't a reason I don't have several articles in the pipeline for pulication other than I don't write them during the free time I have. I do other things that do not contribute to my academic or cultural journey, things I like, but not growth worthy things, for example, I take Zoey for walks and to the dog park, I vacuum and clean , I go to bed late and sleep till 10. Those actions make me feel lazy, not competent, not excited about the next day, and most problematically, make me not enjoy the time off in ways that lead me further on my life journey. They seem to make me hate my work, not manage my time well and overall, not enjoy my newfound freedom. My days were made to allow for self-paced work. I've decided i don't like it, but I can't go to work to work, I hate it there and nothing good gets done. My desk is tiny here at home (which is, don't get me wrong) where most of the magic happens. So what do I do? Where do I go to work, not be distracted unless I want to be and have scheduled to be? I need to be schedule-used better...I need something!

So, I've decided to a) find a coffee shop that I like here in San Antonio, not too far from my house; b) work Monday and Tuesday at school as scheduled and required; c) use Wednesday as a "cultural day" doing something that increases my social and cultural self; c) Thursday will be for manuscripts and will occur at the new coffee shop, and Friday will include a dog park, a good work out, and cleaning, plus sporadic academic needs including manuscripts, proposals, and teaching. I'll let you know...

Death

It's hard to swallow
the emotion of it.
It wells up.
It's never just a rite
of passage,
but a connection
to you
and each loss chips away
pieces
of you.
You cry
for those pieces.

And My Light Flickers...

Well, time for the semester to begin, meetings and then classes and while I have had a restful vacation, it has also been minus my baby girl and minus something just as important, passion. For the first time in my teaching life (which extends for about 22 years, right mom?) I don't want t be a teacher, at least one at A&M. For the first time, I feel that there is nothing I can do to give at A&M, to a school, a creed, a ministry that I had previously wanted to believe in like I never had at my fabulous, big, authoritarian college. Yet, it has died over the last couple semesters and with it, my passion. It used to be that I let everyone in my classes because I believed what I was doing was important, that it was paramount for students to be in a classroom with high expectations, with a mastery orientation, with serious implications and a calling to the field that no one but me could give them. I was important to the teaching world of San Antonio in ways even they didn't know. I was changing the future, making it stronger, against the grain, powerful and smart. Now, I find the beginning of the semester daunting, dreary, and the passion I had once had in the ministry of education in San Antonio, gone. What am I to do? As I write these syllabi and post Blackboard, I find myself anxious and weary for the first time. I must say Im not sure I am a good teacher anymore. My light is flickering.

I also learned this last semester something that has induced much personal angst and perhaps jealousy. Jealousy I hate, but it has reared its head in vicious ways concerning this. I am not the chosen one, at least not one of the chosen ones and I want to be. One of the hardest lessons in my academic life concerns not being the chosen one, being told I am chosen, but actions not aligning, mine and other people's. It is realizing that someone(s) I wanted to be my mentor, my colleague(s), to deem me smart, and to want to make my life better, has chosen others, but not me. And, what is worse, I am jealous. I don't want to be, I want to say it is okay for me not to be the smartest, to be chosen to work with, write with, but I am and now, at this crossroads in my life, the lack of an active mentor has crippled me and I feel dead at the university, left to rot. What is worse you ask? That I don't want to play the game anymore. Let me rot.

Disney 2010 with Eric, Jackie, Levi, David, Josiah and Laura

Bye, Bye 2010, Hello 2011!

It is officially the new year, 2011, and the first one since 1996 without my Mitzie Mouse. It has been a year of loses and hurt. Mitzie ended her time with me, a tumor was removed from my head and replaced with staples and pain, my best colleague Jackie left for Japan with no help for the 7 classes I was left teaching, nor research we were to be conducting. Then there was the loss of my house and the move to an apartment and the loss of my illusion that my job would get better. I even lost faith in a best frined who Ive known practically my whole life. It's been a hard year, a tough 2010, one for which I wish I could have some more time in so as to hug my Mouser, but am glad to see leave. So as to insure a better 2011, I will be eating black-eyed peas and writing my resolutions, but I will just have to end it if it is worse than this year.

A Conflicted Christmas

I feel so conflicted this Christmas. After one of the most difficult semester's on record (my best work colleague and travel buddy Jackie quit and moved away leaving me with 7 classes to teach and no best friend, a giant spreading, deep tumor rmoved from my head, and my sweet Mitzie's death), I need a break. But, all I really want to do is sit at home. Before both catastrophic events, a trip to Disney had been planned. Much money has been poured in and effort has been made. BUT, it was before my angst, my depression the reprieve, and before students made me insane. While Eric is going, and I am happy about that, I feel at a loss without my Mitzie and confused about the angst with Jackie (since her family is going too). While several have told me to go, that I need the vacation, I feel lost, quiet, and mostly want to just sit. Im worried about the bustle of Eric and Jackie's family and I am stressed about Eric and his money. I need to let go, not try to control it and do what I feel like doing, I know. Still, I am stressed about a vacation and I miss Mitzie.

The Love of My Life

My Mitzie Mouse was my best and most precious friend and now, as I sit with her ashes, I can't fathom a life without her big googley brown eyes, her under-bite smile, or her loyalty and love. She was my baby girl for whom I would have moved the world and in the last bit of her life, I must admit I tried.

As I traversed this life of mine, her little paw-paws followed right along on my time, never questioning or judging. Trips or moves, she diligently and bravely carried on her role: chief inspector and stress reducer, lover, and all-around best dogger. She made my life more loving, patient, and most importantly full.

Mitzie Mouser loved to go to UT and run the halls, ride the elevator, and sit in her bed while I typed prose that would give us a better life. She was dedicated to me and my pursuits. She loved her walks, her Garfield, and her t-shirts. She loved to sit-up and felt special in the car when she "doggie drove." She was loyal to her Aunt Wretta through the end. Mitzie was an ambassador for cats and humans alike, bringing both to realize dogs are lovely. She spoke English and understood affect. She was an emotional creature who reminded me daily of the importance of devotion and of treats.

Im not sure what I believe in terms of Heaven, but I know I long to see her again, to give her lovies.

Mitzie, I am better for having known and loved you. You made my life joyful and better and I thank you. Please find me again and until then know that I will never forget, I will always be thankful, and Zoey, Carmen and I will always have a place in our hearts for you, my angel dog.

Jackie's Ears...

Before my friend and colleague Jackie Ferguson left for Japan, I had to figure out a going away present for the woman who has everything...holes in her ears!

Never worked so hard in my life...

Okay, so I have, but last week and this week, is REALLY busy! Thank goodness for the time change. Now, if the people below me would stop watching Top Gun in stereo, I might work faster. Could they be watching it on continuous loop? Boom! Boom! Boom!