Living Uncertainly

I'll be brief with this introduction. My 10th grade English students are currently in the process of writing essays based on the "This I Believe" segment that airs on NPR. To help them understand HOW they can go about revising their essays, I wrote my own, which I thought I'd share. This is not the first (or "snot" draft), so it is a little more polished although not perfect. Anyway, without further ado, here it is:

"I know nothing. Or perhaps only a very few things. I know my husband and family love me, which is enough to keep me grounded. I can also say with assurance that I am extremely lucky to be an artist and a teacher. But outside of that, my knowledge amounts to one flake in the winter snowstorms from my childhood growing up in Utah.

All this uncertainty can be uncomfortable. It can be tense. The muscles in my chest still constrict when I remember standing in front of my graduate committee to defend my artwork. What if I couldn’t remember what I had written? My palms were so sweaty, and I could barely breathe. What if my work was not good enough? And with my personality, the questioning does not end with high stress situations. It happens every day that I put on shoes. I am a daily doubter. For instance, what if my students ask me a question I don’t know the answer to?

At the heart of each of these what if’s is a doubt that can lead to so many things. Doubt gets a bad rap sometimes. Truly it can paralyze and destroy when focused on the past and the uncontrollable. But if it weren’t for that persistent question, for the wonder of what more is out there, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

As an artist, I learned to doubt all my assumptions about my work. My undergraduate ceramics professor, a wonderful lady with hair like her sheep dog’s fur, encouraged us to play the what if game with our ideas. What if I turned it upside down? What if I made it the size of a truck? What if instead of glazing my piece, I covered it with spray rubber? There is a fire engine red rubber-covered woman in the back of my closet because of this question. What if I don’t fire it? You have my graduate work. What if I risk my ego and a few dollars to enter my art into a show? I just might get in, or I might learn that I need to keep asking myself questions and learning.

And it is not just in my art that doubt can be a driving force. I mentioned that I know my husband loves me. What if I question that, too? This uncertainty creeps in at inopportune moments when media images don’t reinforce my worth. So I probe, and the details sharpen. My phone beeps with a text seeing how my morning went. His posture softens, and he lets me bear some of his troubles. He knows my favorite color is green. The dishes on the high shelves are mine for the asking. And he makes the bed! For having doubted, my knowledge grew.

I’ve seen it so many times in my life. When I doubted, I went to grad school. When I doubted, I found my own strength. When I doubted, I learned more about the world and God than I ever thought possible. Maybe I do know something. But I doubt it."

And let the procrastination begin...

There are so many things I should be doing right now, which make it a perfect time for a blog post....

I've been tagged:

I was tagged by: Molly
I am: not looking forward to writing 7 more reports.
I think: I should make the grocery list so we don't starve this week.
I know: that my hubby loves me.
I want: my fish to all be healthy.
I have: not much to complain about.
I dislike: eggnog. I am reminded of this every Christmas season.
I miss: throwing pottery and working with clay.
I fear: calling people on the phone, especially people I don't know very well.
I feel: excited for Christmas!
I hear: Karen Carpenter, and my land lord bumping around upstairs.
I smell: two very ripe bananas.
I crave: pad thai.
I cry: at any sappy movie or t.v. show. It's pretty pathetic.
I search: for good lesson plans! And books that deal with issues of community and power that would be appropriate for 10th graders. Any ideas?
I wonder: when we'll be able to save up enough for a down payment on a house.
I regret: the last five cookies I ate.
I wish: dinner were already made.
I love: listening to NPR on my way to school in the morning.
I care: about doing my job well.
I always: text my husband from work. Or tap my wet toothbrush before I brush my teeth (as he points out).
I worry: about not being good enough at my job or at getting things done around the house.
I am not: tall.
I remember: driving to Utah with my boy and his brother almost two years ago. When they dropped me off at my house, the girls in my family thought he was cute. He is.
I believe: in good people.
I sing: a lot by myself. I used to think I was pretty good, but I've either gotten worse or less delusional.
I don't: have enough time and/or energy to make my own artwork these days.
I argue: on rare occasions, and only when I'm really comfortable.
I write: a lot of comments to my students telling them they need a thesis.
I win: when it's not a competition.
I lose: my keys less often than I used to. Now days it is usually my phone.
I listen: more than I talk in social situations.
I don't understand: how Ben can drink 2%. Ugh!
I can usually be found: no where or only by e-mail. Or so my students think if they haven't made arrangements with me.
I need: to exercise more often.
I forget: things when I get flustered.
I am happy: when I am with my husband.

I'd tag Ben, except his blog is dead. R.I.P.

Home for the Holidays

This morning, while Ben was all snug in the bed, I bundled myself up to head out into the darkness. Coat: check. Gloves: check. Extra long socks: check. I swung open the front door bracing myself for the cold blast of air that accompanies me to work. The snow man on our door clinked lightly on the glass as usual, but the shock did not come. It was 50 degrees when I stepped out the door at 6:30. Crazy. Weather-wise, the Christmas season comes in fits and starts here. Decoration-wise it is here in all its glory.

I'll admit it's glory shines a bit brighter at some houses; a few places on my commute are mighty impressive. I don't mind, however, because our humble abode glows with a comforting homey glow. Some things about growing older aren't so fun (rent and loan payments come to mind), but picking out our Christmas tree definitely compensated for some of the discomfort. We put it up the day after Thanksgiving, and now blue, clear, and frosted lights twinkle in our front room.


Sure, it won't grace the pages of a magazine, but the atmosphere is just right for cuddling up with your honey or chatting with friends. One other thing of note, we got our stockings hung by the chimney with care. My parents-in-law gave those to us last year. Thanks! Our home sweet home is ready for the holidays.

Sunshine, Shark fin, and Submarines

I'm fondly remembering the 70 degree weather in Florida as it was 19 degrees on my way to work; it felt like 11, and I was wearing a skirt. We really need to get some laundry done. Between work and Thanksgiving, the beginning of November seems so long ago. At that time, Ben and I sardined ourselves into airplanes to head down to Mobile, Alabama. From there, we trekked on to Pensacola, Florida, for the wedding of my best friend from high school. We arrived late at night, so it was not until the next day that we were introduced properly to Pensacola. Overall, the trip ended up being filled with good friends, good food, and good fun.

The good friends definitely came as a big surprise. I'm pretty shy, so I had been anticipating an personally awkward wedding where I didn't talk to anyone. I was SO grateful that Ben had come with me; he's my social security blanket. Imagine my astonishment when we roll out of the hotel room, me without my hair or make-up done, and suddenly I see four people in the parking lot turn their attention towards us. My eyesight has gotten a little fuzzy lately, so I did not recognize them immediately. The fuzzy figures quickly focused, and two of my best friends from high school and their wives greeted us enthusiastically. This wedding was definitely going to be even better than I thought!

Either way, though, it really would have been an incredible wedding. It was a lovely combination of Jewish, Chinese, and military traditions that was a heck-of-a-lot more fun and romantic than most weddings I've been to. Annie was a sight in both her white and red gowns; she looked very happy. All in all, it was nothing short of a feast for eyes, hearts, and, of course, stomachs. From the shark fin soup and jellyfish salad to the shrimp and duck, all was thoroughly documented by James and enjoyed by everyone at the Mormon table (it all went nicely with the Martinellis...).

Best of all, I got Ben to dance.

Anyway, the next morning, after we caught a second helping of primary program at a local chapel, Ben and I headed out. Now, what we did highlights what big nerds (and how well-suited) we are. There we were, on a beautiful sunny day, just scant miles from a beach, and what do we want to do? We both wanted to head to a WWII battleship that we had spied lurking in the dark on our way there. The USS Alabama was incredible! We could have stayed for hours longer, but we had to head back to the airport (and to reality). However, to preserve the memory, we did manage to get a disposable camera to document the adventure (as the camerawoman forgot her camera...).
It is amazing how much they fit inside this vessel. It truly was a floating city, with everything from a dentist's, to a cobbler shop, and an ice cream parlor. But they were all very small...A couple of the most interesting were the pharmacy and the photographer's shop. Aren't all these old cameras cool?
They also had the WWII submarine the USS Drum there for people to wander through. We took it at more of a run because of time constraints, but that was all we needed to decide Ben should never have to live on a submarine. He wouldn't fit any of the beds.

The Grateful Dead

The lights buzz overhead, and I hear the sound of Charles vacuuming the room next door. I know there are a kids roaming the halls, but they are mostly at the other end of the school near the gymnasium. Thanksgiving break has begun, and, boy, am I glad. This first semester of teaching has been good, but I definitely feel the need to recharge a little bit before I'll be ready to tackle the second. However, that is not the only thing I am grateful for. As much as vacation delights me, I can look around the classroom and find so many reasons to be grateful to be here. Here are four miscellaneous things about Room 306 that make me happy:

1. The white board at the front of the room started out as the "Grateful" board and ended up as "The Grateful Dead" board. Additionally, the students are grateful for among other things Morgan Freeman, Christmas trees, chocolate chips, cars that don't break down, and "Ms. V's outfit advice" (which mostly consists of taking girls aside and informing them that nylons do not constitute pants....).

2. Ms. V's calendar. I share a room, and I really respect and love my roomy. One thing that she has up by her desk is a calendar that has a whole bunch of nature facts on it. I understand that it is simply trying to tell general time frames, but who can resist laughing when it lists "Woodchucks (groundhogs) are asleep in underground nests" on November 4. They don't sleep any other day? And so you know, the milkweed pods open on the 30th.

3. The sticky note on the closet that says "Narnia." In our classroom, there is a door at the back of the room. "Where does that go?" the students ask at the beginning of the year. Well, technically it simply is a closet with some volleyball equipment, Spanish stuff, and the English multimedia equipment. Apparently someone else decided it was Narnia. I like to think of it as being like Superman's phone booth. Non-descript teachers enter, but athletic super-humans emerge! Alright, I exaggerate, but it frequently does get used as a dressing room.

4. The essential question poster with the misspelling. At the beginning of the year, I quickly made a set of posters for our classroom listing the sophomore history and English "essential questions." They are "How and why do communities form?"; "What is power, and how does it manifest itself in a community?"; and "How is manipulation and persuasion an aspect of power?" Well, that is what they are supposed to say. Just two days ago I noticed that I had misspelled "persuasion." So far, I'm the only one that I know has noticed it, which makes me laugh.

Well, vacation has officially started, and I'm done ruminating. It's time to pack up and head home. I'll be especially grateful if I don't run out of gas...

Things Not to Say to Teenagers, Revisited

Is it ironic that after my gaff with the conch the next unit in English is Freud? Now I've had to explain what a phallic symbol is. The Washington Monument will never be the same to them...

3545

I survived Spirit Week. Barely. Let's just say that during the course of the week, I went to school dressed in a prom dress and tennis shoes, dressed as a dwarf, and with the flags of Germany and Belgium adorning my hair. No, it makes no sense, but that is the insanity of it all. This is homecoming week at a school with no football team. There is no one place to focus the energy, so it just explodes into a chaotic mess of school pride, leaving everyone drained by Friday. I lay in bed this morning wishing, longing to be able to stay there for another hour or two. That, however, was not in the cards. Instead, Ben and I got up early and ventured into the cool October morning to run our very first 5K. While more quality time with my pillow would have been nice, in the end I felt good and very lucky.

Ben and I have not been as diligent lately with getting out of the house and running, so we were a little apprehensive about the run. Or I should say I was a little apprehensive about the run. Ben has this indomitable confidence that he can do things that boggles my mind. I was worried that I was not going to make it. School has been a huge energy drain, and running has taken a back seat. With this in mind, we knew that we were not going to be contenders for first place, so we diligently took our positions with the rank-and-file behind the start line.

Someone yelled, "Start!" Ben and I soon eased into a steady pace, our feet rhythmically pounding the asphalt. Before too long, he surged ahead of me. My short legs just can't keep up with him! His lean figure would pop into view between the trees whenever we rounded a corner. While I could not rival his pace, I managed to hold my own. The sound of footsteps and breathing accompanied me throughout the majority of the race as I stayed just ahead of one lady. A few feet in front of me, another girl held the distance steady until I surged ahead toward the end.

My lungs were threatening revolt as I rounded the last bend to see a family from our ward and Ben cheering me on. We had made it! Ben finished in 26 minutes 25 seconds, while the clock read just over 28 minutes when I crossed the line. It didn't matter that we were no where near the top times (about 17 minutes for the men and 21 for the ladies); our times are great for us! We'll see how much our legs complain tomorrow.

Our legs, however, are the only part of us that has any room for complaint. Both our bib numbers (3544 for Ben and 3545 for me) were pulled during the raffle afterwards. Talk about lucky! In the end, I traded a lazy morning in bed for the experience of running a 5K, bread for a year, and a night's stay at a hotel downtown. Yeah, it was worth it.