flaneuse.org

Oh, man. (click here to follow link)

I probably read more than 75 books last year, not counting work. I think I average one to two a week most of the time. This week so far, tomorrow being Friday, I have read two books and am currently reading three others. But that number is higher ’cause it’s summer and hot and I am procrastinating working on syllabi and tech prep for the Fall.

I am sitting in the public library, trying to do some theory reading and run down some references. My August vacation, while productive in the filling out paperwork kind of way has not been all that good in the deep thinking sense. After the July classes ended, apparently the scholarly part of my gray matter left (I can just see a little sign in that part of my skull, now emptied of brain “stuff” that says, “gone. be back soon.”). But I need it to come back. School starts in just a few days and the press is on, already, to get back into data analysis, to work on a grant submission, to figure out what to have my new grad assistant do. (And why do I have a new grad assistant every year? What am I doing to these poor people?).

OK. A little more caffeine and I will get back to “Weblogs as Deictic Systems.” Yep. Sure will. Right about now…

OK, I’ve been spending a lot of my time in my pjs or sweats, working at odd hours and reading like a fiend. I’ve also been catching up on politics — we just saw the documentary on Iraq called No End in Sight and now we’re watching the Bill Maher season premiere. Note to self: I heart Bill Maher. In fact, he’s on the short list of men I find incredibly sexy (Paul Rudd, Hugh Laurie, Jon Stewart, Dave Eggers, others I forget). I think I should have a life goal to appear at some point on either Bill Maher or the Daily Show.

But here’s one thing I’m wondering — who is working to rebuild the Iraqi education system? Most of the academics and intellectuals fled the country or were killed in war-related violence (not just the insurgency — we have our role in this as well). A country is only as strong as its smartest members, and education is the freedom’s promise realized. I think Jefferson said something like that — have been reading Thom Hartmann’s writings about the early days of this country and what the Founding Fathers actually had in mind.

Yeah, I am quickly becoming a sideline political pundit. Good thing I already have a boyfriend (*grin*) ’cause I am likely to become that person who starts deep political arguments with complete strangers and runs the risk of proselytizing because I feel so strongly about politics and the future of our country.

A bookcase with a message

Reading as infinite and infinity — language stretches on and on…

Well, the decision not to teach this month has come with a bit of a downside. I have no money. Yet, in this day and age and with all the things I have at home, let alone in this geographic area, it’s my own damn fault if I can’t come up with things to do. Cable, computer, PlayStation, books and more books, walking and hiking with Willa … the list goes on.

What are the things you choose to do when the money runs out?

I am back in the work saddle after four days down the shore (as my students have taught me to say it, in correct Jersey parlance). What I think of as the East Coast branch of my family — New Yorkers, although one cousin now lives with his wife and kids in San Fran — had a family reunion in Avalon, NJ, just above the very southernmost tip of Cape May. The beach house was unbelievable — with pool and outdoor shower, which I am now hooked on — and the ocean was even better. I am a chicken when it comes to large bodies of water, probably from having grown up in a land-locked state. Add waves and an undertow, and usually I won’t go in very far. This was warm and shallow and we could go far out and still be able to stand up, jumping the waves and bobbing in the surf. I got tan for the first time in years and have more freckles than Raggedy Ann. My cousins’ kids, six of them all told, let me run with the pack and we played Wii and some sort of splashing game in the house pool that let me defuse all the anger I think I’ve been carrying from a long year and summer. I didn’t bring my laptop and only checked email once. It was a vacation in every sense of the word, and deeply needed.

Plus I have some good news. The publisher bit on my book idea — tentatively titled iWrite — and is sending a contract along. I can’t even tell you how excited I am. It’s about the writing process and how technologies can and are being incorporated into writing by adolescents. Yeah. It’s a big goal, to write a book this year, but I want to do it and will use this blog, among other things, to keep track of my progress and think through/reflect on my writing. Should be interesting, at the very least. Can we say self study?

Chris’ father is doing much better, eating and responding well to treatment. Will be in and out of the electronic world for a while, between this and other family things — a great time to be around the people we love so much.

Chris’ father is seriously ill and hospitalized — something that makes me realize that someday my father may not be here, either. I can’t even begin to explain how much that thought freaks me out — while intellectually, I accept that and know he will die someday, emotionally I can’t even approach that idea without fear and sadness. In my family, family counts for everything and we are close, tight, caring, loyal. And, thankfully, pretty well intact. I know this can’t be true indefinitely, but the illness of a parent means losing something of yourself, of who you were as a child. You can never be that child again if and when your parents go, you can only be yourself and there, as the center of your own children’s world (if you have them). A support is stripped away when a parent dies, I think, and at the end of the day, you have only yourself as both parent and child, alpha and omega. If that even makes any sense….

We will be traveling back and forth to Staten Island over the next few days — keep us and Don (that’s his father) in your thoughts. He’s too young, it’s too soon (if you ask me, and of course that’s the thing about death — he doesn’t ask) and there’s still much living to be done. And seeing Chris hurt makes me feel like my heart could fly right out of my chest and explode into red tatters. I can’t bear it.

Willa is sitting next to me, grinning at me as I write this and sucking up all the cool air from the fan. We just had a long walk (as long as you can walk a black dog in this heat) and a game of fetch on the stairs, which the downstairs neighbors must love.

Willa has entered a big chewing phase, which not surprisingly coincided with me teaching so much and having to be out of the house. During the last five weeks, while I was so busy, her spree has included:

• My nice new Teva flip flops
• two pillows
• two couch covers (thank God we use cheap comforter covers for the futon from ikea)
• the wooden arms of the couch
• several student papers
• countless pens (which means there is ink everywhere)
• several towels
• two of my dressier sweaters I took off when I walked through the door and she promptly ran away with (actually once before I even had it off all the way)
• all the corners of our rugs, even the round one, which is a feat unto itself for physicists to study
• our nice LL Bean comforter
• the kitchen rugs
• part of a shower curtain

But how does she get these things, you ask? Well, short of living in a hermetically sealed, empty plastic box, we have found that she can suck items from a remarkable distance into her crate. She also participates in drive-by chewings, whereby she either runs or walks by and, moments later, we hear crunching and chewing from the other room. Usually she takes her spoils straight to the futon we use as a couch (unless that is the spoils, which is why there are still feathers and foam flying around).

What the hell? If she wasn’t so damned adorable and loving, I would send her straight to the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm. But even on  those mornings when I make it down the stairs and Chris tells me, in a somber tone, that we have a “very bad dog,” I still love her.

Now if only we could keep Naima (black kitty) from licking all the pictures on the walls…

You never know what a class is going to be like until you walk in there and they’re all looking up at you….. The PFSP class, though, took one look at me and dove in and I loved it. I think Alex R had his hand in the air within the first 15 minutes of class. I walked in that first day and watched all of you listening to the presentation as to what this program was going to be and I remember thinking, “Wow, this sounds very official and yet I will be anything this class won’t be too stuffy or crowded with rules.” I was so excited to see how interactive, diverse, and interesting this group was — and I’ve never had a class like this, that became a family. I almost cried this morning, and I never cry in class. You all touched me and taught me an enormous amount — for that, I can’t thank you enough.

So for each of you:

• Andreia — thank you for your smile and your patience, and for keeping an eye on Ryan Barry for me. : ) Your sweet nature and bright mind will make you an excellent teacher (and if you teach high school, all the boys will stay after so just be warned…)
• Ariel — You’ll be a damned good lawyer one day soon, and I will be able to say I knew you when…
• Ryan Barry — I think I have never had a student be so nice to me right away. I would say you were sucking up, but that’s not really what it was. As my brother would say (and this is the highest praise he can give), you’re a gentleman.
• Ryan Buchmuller — “Gimp”. Honestly, what were you doing in any of these summer classes anyhow? You better be in my literacy for PE teachers so you can keep the discussion up on a higher level
• Amy — I was so glad when you started talking more in class, you had so much to say that was thoughtful and interesting. I also really respected how your presentation didn’t shy away from the really tough aspects of the issue.
• Niki — take a deep breath! You know so much more than you think you do and the best thing you could do for yourself is to believe that. You’re a bright bright woman who will go far!
• Akeem — You earned my respect the first day when you looked me in the eye and introduced yourself. You can’t even imagine the role model you will be for your students and your athletes.
• Allister — You were one of my quiet but mischevious boys — super smart, and smooth to boot. Just be sure to get enough sleep at night, you hear? : )
• Alex R — I don’t think I’ve ever had a student participate so much in class, and bring so much to it. Remember to slow down and trust in what you know, and in your ability to hear as much as you say. I have a feeling you have amazing things ahead of you
• Yunhee — You were another of the quiet ones until your presentation…. and all of a sudden, you were the teacher, teaching us all so much. I bet you’re fantastic with kids and patient too. I hope I get to see you be crazy sometimes
• Woojae — You had a lot going on behind the scenes, convincing your parents about your change of major. I was so impressed with the book you put together to show them, and your video. You’re already more than halfway there. Can you get me discount tickets when you get to Broadway? : )
• Alex Jacques — I know *exactly* about being confused. You know what you want out of life, just tune the rest of us out and listen to what your heart has to say. That girl in the graduation gown and shades in your video is the confident woman you will be. What you want *is* good enough
• Janelle — I think you have the talent and the initiative to be a director. No one ever swayed you from your learning and your goals through this whole class, and with this group — that’s saying a lot. I wish I had just part of your drive
• Ron — You’re going to break hearts in Manhattan. Just don’t forget MSU and your dreams and we’ll get you back here come Spring semester. Promise?
• Maulik — Who knew you were such a joker? So glad you made it, from birth to this class. I know you can be a CEO, and a good one. There’s too many evil businessmen out there — I would love to see you be one of the good ones
• Patrick — Why didn’t you tell us more? I wanted to hear more of your story, and your smile was one of the things I needed at the beginning of every morning to get me going. You hide your brain under a rock, but when you let it shine, you really shine! You’ve made us all proud
• Stephanie — How did you put up with us all? And why the hell were you in this class? Smart girl that you are, I am excited to see what you choose to do because you won’t do a half-assed job of it. It’s the quiet ones who surprise us the most….
• Tiff — I loved how you kept me honest. I knew that if I couldn’t tell Tiffany why she had to do something, then it wasn’t worth doing. Will you teach me how to dance sometime? I bet you can cut up something fierce…. and you did so well in this class. Remember to be soft, we love you and the world is just there for your taking.
• Rinam — do you know how amazingly well you are doing, given how short a time you have been here? And how beautiful you are, all around? Someone needs to tell you, each and every day
• And Jeff. Of everyone, Jeff, you taught me something new each time I walked into that room. Because of you, and how open and honest you are, you taught me to be a better teacher and a better person. Thank you and thank you. You’re in some ways a real hero to me, and to the rest of the class I think.

All right, I’m out. I need a nap, and then I have a two-foot tall high stack of papers that needs some red-pen love or else my grad students aren’t getting their grades.

Thank you, every one of you, for being a part of the class this summer. This is what teaching is for — to teach the teacher how learning can be done.

Peace. : )