This morning I got some troubling news. My sweet Mouser has Mycrovascular Displasia, a chronic, deadly liver disease which strips the body's ability to excrete toxins. We are putting her on a low protein diet (proteins are hard for the liver to process) and vitamins. Also problematic is ammonia build-up which causes brain functioning issues. So, that might be why she has become so scared and timid. As of now, there is nothing to do. It is chronic and deadly. I am such a wreck thinking that my baby girl is dying. At 13, she is not that old for a little dog; most live to 15 or 16. I thought that with good vet care and an overattentive mother, she would live that long too. I am not ready to lose her. She has been with me for my entire adult life. I cant imagine coming home and her little, black, fuzzy, under-bite face not there to greet me. I'm on the verge of losing her. How do I cope with that?
I know I must keep going, keep her as healthy as possible, and give her a lot of love until it is time. I know all those things. But, my heart is breaking. I just lost my grandpa, I cant do this too.
My hair is falling out. I have to cut it off to help with the weight of it on the roots and to get it to look thicker and over the bald spot. I'm sad and nervous. Please send others and remember I have frizzbo, wavy hair.
Today I went to lunch with Ms. Eva, an elderly woman who lives 3 houses down from me. She is a wonderful lady, but boy, does she sustain a conversation! And so, after avoiding a dinner for months, I went with her to Los Barrios, a wonderful Mexican restaurant alive with color and mariachi. Over tortilla soup and homemade tortillas, I asked about her husband and she proceeded to tell me about love, the love of her life who was NOT her husband. She told me of elaborate parties, ribbons of color flown on banners and margaritas in Mexico City, where Enrique loved her and she him. His charm and adoration was alluring and Eva claimed to be "in love, deep through to the core of her body." The problem was that her family was leaving Mexico for the United States after 5 years of working for visas. So, she was to leave with them. Enrique wasn't able to come. She told me that at 29, she knew it meant she would never see him again. She recalled his smile and his eye lashes, also that he sent special deliveries for months after she had gone. But, she was never to go back. I asked why her mom and dad made her go with them, why didnt she stay behind. Eva quietly said, "I was the only child. My mom lost every pregnancy besides me. I had to go with them; they couldn't lose me." It was odd to think of a 29 year old woman as a child and that her love for Enrique wasnt to usurp that of her mom and dad. She continued, "They lavished everything on me, everything I wanted, everything they gave to me. I owed them." So, she left. I again asked about the man she did marry. She began, "Well, mija, I loved Enrique and nce you have that kind of love, you dont ever forget it. It is too deep, too much. "You know," she went on, "I did see Enrique again, about 5 years after. He came to the US and had a wife and child. We met for coffee because he had a beautiful photograph of me when I was Miss Mexico. He wanted me to have it. When I met him he wanted me to eat with him, to talk. I said no. He told me he couldnt part with the picture, that he didnt bring it." Eva recalled that she stood up and was frustrated. She madly stated that it was mean not to bring the picture. She then told me the last words he ever said to her. "It is the most horrible thing to not be married to the love of your life, and it is worse to upset her at perhaps the last time she is to see him."
and received an offer to make some, which is wonderful and stupendous. It is the making it that is so hard. On Fridays I am working at an elementary school in Austin. Yes, I said Austin and yes, I live in San Antonio. The problem is that elementary school starts at the butt crack of dawn! So, for me to drop off the girls at daycare in Austin (so they arent left at home for 12 hours), and make it to the school by 7:45am, I get up at 4:15am. This is especially hard because I get home on Thursdays around 9 and because I always work nights, I cannot fall asleep before midnight/1am. I try and try!
The other issue has been finding time to prepare for Fridays. Meaning that M-W I am working to prepare for M-Th. So it isn't until Thursday night (or the weekend) that I have time to finish getting ready for Dora. If the weekend is grading, revising thesis, reading for M-Th., I am doomed!
Also hard is that because we have classes Monday-Thursday, Fridays are meeting days. So, I am constantly missing meetings and not knowing what is going on (even though I "get notes").
So, all week I am running and preparing for the 5 classes I teach, handling fires, graduate students, faculty issues, my lonely doggies, my house, myself and then, I must run to Austin. Don't get me wrong, I have learned so much while doing this new little job. The data analysis was so eye-opening, and working in the classrooms has been wonderful, but I am so tired. My bones want to lay in bed and sleep. Next week, I teach through Wednesday, then head to Indiana for the Phi Delta Kappa Summit on Literacy Education and return on Sunday, to begin it all again Monday. I know this busy-ness is nothing new, just tiring and I like it so much. Im setting the alarm right now for 4:15am.
Wish me luck!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
I must say that I absolutely love my schnoodle. Zoey Louise is a breath of happy air. But, sheesh! What the heck is with all the scruffing?
On Thursday I went to dinner at Paesano's on the RiverWalk and to see Mama Mia with Anita and Jackie at the Majestic Theatre. It was the worst production of Mam Mia I have seen, complete with music that drown out the singers, taped music, no pit orchestra and random, fill-in people. Weird. The food and dinner conversation, however was lovely. We has tomatoes, mozzarella and basil salad, shrimp encrusted with parmesan, lasagne, sea bass and spinach, and of course, birthday fried ice cream and wine. So good! One of the best parts was having such fun people around. Thanks Jackie and Anita! We drank and sang and danced till midnight to songs from Mama Mia. Then I turned into a pumpkin because I have to be in Austin by 8am, meaning I get up at 4:50am. The girls left me with a carrot cake in hand.
In Austin, I worked at Dora's school all day, listened to reader's theatre and talked with teachers. I have a lot of work to get ready for next week. I am uploading a video of a first attempt at a reader's theatre after this blog post, so look for it.
I then headed to dinner at Eastside Cafe where I was meeting my Austin friends for dinner. Such fun. We al ate well, drank well, and talked well. After a 2 hour dinner, we headed back to Loretta's house for cupcakes and wine. I am so glad I got to see everyone! I love you all, Dawn, Claudia, Loretta, Diane, Sherry, Beth, Janne, Michelle, and Anita! You all made the Austin birthday great. I just love talking and catching up with you all.
And now, it is officially over. Year 32 is gone and year 33 is upon me. I need to have another birthday dinner soon, maybe in 363 days.
Why DO people go to school? I mean, is it really different than the reasons back then? Do you want to eat lunch tomorrow? Do you think she is crazy, like certifiably nuts or just a little nuts? Do you want to join our tap dancing league Mondays at 3:30? Can I be exempted from student teaching if I haven't been a teacher, but I worked with kids? Do you want cheddar peppers or french fries with your diet vanilla coke? Do you have any change, lady? How are the allergies treating ya? Do you have naturally curly hair or is it just frizzy? Did you like "Lie to Me?" Do you wanna talk? Will you please, please help me write? Did it hurt?
My grandma was taken to the emergency room on Friday night. She was having a headache so severe that she couldnt get dressed. Two days before that, while at the doctor, her blood pressure was 217/120 (or something close to that). Im sure the headache was due to the blood pressure, but the emergency room didnt do anything much, so her and my mother drive home. The headache was gone after some pain medicine. Today, the headache was back in full force. No one knows exactly what to do. 1. The emergency room sent her home; 2. The doctor at the clinic two days before sent her home; and 3. She doesnt want to go back. All of this is to say that I dont think I can take losing another grandparent right now. I am not done grieving my grandpa. I don't think it is fair that once one grandparent dies, the other isnt short behind. My other set of grandparents died close together too. I wasnt close to them however. I dont think I can take something being wrong with grandma too. Luckily, she is okay right now.
Why is it that the very things we love have to leave us? I think it is cruel.
8 hours of constant talking, activity, and 80 students met with me yesterday. Wednesdays are scheduled days from teaching Hell. Last night, my 7-10 master's class was interesting, however. First of all, I was exhausted by the time I got there and regardless of the wonderful student Grace who brought me a diet vanilla coke, I was not looking forward to another 3 hours. This class is a weird mix of people. Ive got several full time teachers, one former advertising exec, a couple substitute teachers, one older woman who has no social gate-keeping, one student who is so outlandish and ignorant that I struggle to imagine the later pain caused if a school hires this person, 2 former undergrad students of mine, and a sprinkling of "others." We began by watching President Obama's speech to students which occurred on 9-08-09. None has seen it. NONE! What does it say that they all knew of the controversies, but none, not any of the 18 master's students, had taken time to see it. A good conversation followed which included comments such as, "Wow...I heard it was bad," or, "What a good message. What was all the hype about?" I shared the letters from school districts around this area that did not allow it to be shown and those that did. They were amazed that districts would be so conservative and wondered why. Of course, Ignorant knew why. It was a great conversation and when asked why I might choose to show the video in an assessment class, much was said and connections made. We then got into groups and each group took one of the weekly readings and made 3 tenets describing, summarizing, or otherwise illuminating what the article was talking about. It went well and they admitted they loved the articles "way more than the book or the National Reading Panel Booklet." From there I began my little ditty about qualitative and quantitative research, the who, what, when, where, why, and hows. Such fun. There is nothing better than RX1=O and RX2=02 as different than X2=O etc. to get their brains a bending. Finally, we again grouped 1-4 and each was assigned a Model of Reading from their book reading. They were to explain the model in 100 words or less and draw a picture (but not the actual model) that would explain the model clearly. They did a nice job. I guess I am telling the lesson plan because I found myself, as a professor, noticing these weird students following me through the different activities easily. When prompted, they answered; when grouped, they worked. We were there until 9:50 and the entire time was spent engaged in the lesson.
Now, I know that when I am teaching, I am rarely not in FLOW. Time moves quickly...for me. I am not sure that is ever true of everyone in the class, however. Yet last night, in a class that is L-A-T-E, was after much teaching by both myself and those full time in the class (which is about 90%), time moved. One student commented as she left, "That class went so fast!" and another, "Yeah, I'm glad. I'm exhausted." You see, that is just it. No matter how exhausted, how uninterested one may be, when confronted with ideas at a fast pace, activities that make you think, have positions, and spark curiosity, I think each teacher is likely to jump. So, I was thinking that the very thing that many teachers are worried about, taking positions, being vocal, bold and smart are the very things that they need to be engaged with their jobs. Now, how do I get those in my class to not fear losing their jobs because of interest, curiosity, and perhaps "non-mainstreamed" teaching?
After a Friday workday in Austin at Dora's school, I headed back to San Antonio to get ready to leave the following morning (Saturday) for Houston. By 10am on Saturday, Zoey was at Shelley's and Mouser and I were headed for Karen and Logan's. After 4 hours, I arrived to an exited Logan, more packing for the trip to Scott's Sister's Lake House and we were back on the road for another hour and a half before arriving at Lake Livingston and therefore the lake house. Such a cute place with its own dock, jet ski and boats. We almost immediately hit the water and attempted to dodge the stumps and look for crocodiles. No luck on the crocodile hunt, but still had a good time. Karen, Logo, iCarly, Thomas, and myself in one boat and another boat was full of more people. Such fun. After a ride and a bit of lightening and rain, Logan and I went jet skiing. He was a bit afraid, but got on anyway and went out. In fact, after coming in and changing, he wanted to go back out. Of course, good ole Jenny complied. We rode again. Fajitas and what Susan referred to as "healthy drinks" (coconut rum, orange juice and pineapple concentrate), we headed back to Houston around 10pm. The next morning, I woke up to Logan starring at me. We both went back to his room where he pulled out a binder full of preschool memories. We chatted and he told me all about school. It was great to hear his little worldly explanations. He misses his dad though. It is really evident. When iCarly and Karen got up, and after a trip for donuts, we all decided to go to the Houston Natural History Museum. Logan loved the dinosaurs...for about 10 minutes and was then ready to roll. I must say that the admission was not quite worth the exhibits. After dropping Logan off at his Gram's house, Karen and I went to a posh little South American restaurant that must be one of my favorites. I had the most amazing plantains and chicken. We would return home to Carl, who had stayed to babysit the dogs, Mitzie, Butch, and Fletch. Then, the morning of Monday, I woke up, finished a movie that Karen and Carl gave up on the night before, and ate left over donuts and strawberries. We picked up Logan at Gram's and after I fixed his bike chain which had fallen off during a prior morning ride, he and I chased each other on bikes around the cul-d-sac. I love that little boy.
EXERCISE: I work out 5 days a week, 45 minutes to an hour at the gym in the morning, usually around 10-11am (30 minutes elliptical, 15 minutes on bike or treadmill or other cardio) and 15, if time, on weights. Then, in the evening about 4 times a week, I walk 50 minutes (approximately 3 miles: 1 to Woodlawn lake, 1 around the lake, and 1 back) with Zoey. If we do not walk in the evenings, I ride the bike 3 miles while Zoey runs. So, since May, that has been the practice.
EATING: I need to be watching my allergic foods better. That is my new, reasserted goal. I did really well in the beginning and with my gpa's death, fell apart. I aim for about 1200 calories a day.
MEASUREMENTS: I have lost about: arms=2 inches; thighs=0 inches (how can that be??); first fat roll=4 inches; waist=2 inches; 2nd fat roll=5 inches; and around chest/boobs=3inches. All of that and I am only down one dress size. I have lost a total of 37 pounds.
GOALS: At 30 pounds I ordered some rolley shoes (the soles are curved) which will intensify my walking around the lake, and my dad bought me roller skates. My next goal is 10 pounds away and will happen right about my birthday. I havent decided the prize for success. The biggest goal is 18 pounds away and is tickets to meet Bette Midler in Vegas. Diane is helping me with that one. At that point I will be my smallest adult weight. From then, there are 6 more goals to my actual goal weight. At that point, I will have dropped almost 100 pounds. I'm on a mission, the mission just gets cloudy with frosting and chocolate chips sometimes. But, it is on nonetheless. There are no more, "I'll start on Monday!" for me. It is on. The battle is big.
So, please be supportive and not provide donuts, cookies, and cupcakes to me. Help me to make good choices, and please, stop asking about my weight loss in ways that make me feel uncomfortable. I would love for you all to be a part of my journey, and I love to talk about my angst with weight, but holy cow!
Went to Austin to work on Friday. Ate with Diane. Dog to dog park with Loretta.
Drove to Dallas Saturday morning. Hung with Gma before going to the RichTone, Sweet Adeline show. Ate dinner with Gma's friends. Got home 1am.
Visited my Gpa's burial site, hung out editing, skating in my new skates with Gpa's walker so as not to fall, and ate cookies while Gma slept till 1pm. Ate Wendy's with Mom, Dad and Gma. Talked with Gma and headed back to Austin to pick up the dogs. Arrived at 8:30pm. Loretta had dinner waiting!
Drove to SA. And back to work I am. Can I do it again to Houston this weekend? Woosh!
I'm a professor. I am one of the hundreds of thousands of over-educated, under-appreciated, and under-paid non-tenured faculty at a high minority, low SES, low funded, urban institutions of higher learning. When I calculate the time and money spent traveling, grading, answering email, teaching and planning, my wages come to about $10 an hour. Faced with this situation at any other job, I'd leave. But these conditions are outweighed by the simple fact that I am needed. When I walk into my classroom, as I will tomorrow, there are 35 pairs of eyes ready and waiting for me to be brilliant, to make them think, to learn. I can't turn away.
My students are oblivious to the internal wrangling of academia, and they aren't interested in how much money I make. They just want someone to teach them. But, once they leave the confines of my classroom, they are on their own. They have the charge to change education, to make it better, to create and inspire. I have but a semester; that goal keeps me interested. That goal is worthy of the Olympics of teaching.
Each week I read pages from each of them--about frogs, wars, Mexican food, their thoughts. The conversations after class concern lives, thoughts, and loves. One such involved Marta, a wonderful 45ish woman with a short black bob haircut and mantras about children. She told me, "When this class started I thought you were nuts. Young and nuts. Now, I can't go back to thinking that children are just empty bottles, waiting to be filled. They are full bottles ready to be recycled, foamingly eager, carbonated with ideas. This whole time I was waiting for some professor to teach me how to teach reading. You taught me how to think. That's more valuable, I think."
It is often my students' complicated lives walk off the page and into my classroom. But it is their lack of pretension, their raw and life experienced intellect. Messages arrive in my inbox from hotmama71 and rustytheyorkie81 and almost every message begins with, "Hi, my name is XXX and I am in your XXX class." They aren't afraid to tell me when I am talking too fast or otherwise confusing them. They are upfront and not afriad to tell me when what we are doing is boring. In college and graduate school, I learned to hide my ignorance, surrepticiously looking up information on my own time. My students dont bother with such intellectual guile. Their honesty disarms me, and forces me to keep my teaching fresh.
At my college, it is the older students who keep going, and I'm reassured by the fact that so many of them left school in the past and then returned, sometimes decades later. Non-tiered colleges like mine are forgiving in that way. Come one, come all-the battered, the child-full, the downtrodden, the cashier, the movie hostess, the mechanic, and the baby boomers. I guess that is why I keep coming back, too. I like to help people begin again. It takes an enormous amount of courage to re-enter school as an adult, but this choice can mean the difference between the food industry and a master's degree. My student's yearning for opportunity keeps me coming back each semester. So, in their robust interest, their experiences, and their intent eyes, I return each day, hoping to change the world, one teacher at a time, specifically those serving populations that have been left behind.
So, that my friends and family is why I am a professor and why, despite the hardship, I carry on at this university, in this city, with these students. It's because I make a difference.
