Maybe it's not as serious as that, but it seems like the general trend in education-related academia that homework is both useless and arguably detrimental to kids. Maclean's Magazine ran a back-to-school double issue in September that featured the title "Homework is Killing Kids". Just this month, another article (an interview) came out that discussed the negative nature of homework and how pointless it is. I'm concerned in a few ways... is the negative impact that damaging? And is the supposition the author/interviewee makes a valid one?
The argument to which the interviewee is responding assumes that homework is assigned because it has some sort of intrinsic value related to work ethic, determination, responsibility, etc. In other words, teachers assign homework because it makes a better student. Now, this may be my modern education speaking or the fact that I'm pretty "green" in the field of teaching, but I definitely have not made this assumption. I don't assign homework because it is good for kids or is has some inherent value. I assign it because I feel as though we need to get through material! The amount of information needed to cover the curriculum feels enormous, and at the end of class, students may or may not be done the work assigned. In a perfect class, there would be no need for homework, as the students would have been diligent and enthusiastic about their eduational experience. If this were some sort of non-anomolous case, then of course I would get rid of mandatory homework. However, I feel as though the reality is much different than this idealised myth. At the end of the day, many kids will goof-off, be unproductive, and simply not finish their work in a reasonable amount of time. Assessment strategies take a variety of forms, but they still test for required knowledge and skill development. Some students also need more time to finish things, and since we're strapped for time during the day, the evening (or early morning) is the only time left.
Sure, there is definitely a measure of accountability involved in doing homework, but it has more to do with the need to complete tasks and move through material than having some innate character-building quality. Students need to be responsible for their education, and if they spend time goofing around in class and being unproductive, they'll still be expected to get the work done. If my class works well and we cover the needed material in class, I don't assign homework. Realistically, this doesn't happen nearly as often as I'd like, but that has more to do with the fact that I'm still pretty new at this whole teaching thing and my lessons are not as effective as they could be. And I'm not sure they should be... I've only been in front of my class for just over a month, and although that sounds like a lot of time, it's a snap of the fingers in reality. The learning curve for this career is extremely steep, and if you don't keep up, you'll get left behind.
So my response to this reviling of homework is mixed. Do I agree that homework has no intrinsic character-building qualities? Sure I do. However, I do not make that assumption to begin with. Homework provides a means for completing what needs to be completed, and if students are willing to put the effort in for the six hours they are actually at the school, then I'll be fully satisfied to let them enjoy their evening. Family and friends are important. Shouldn't that be the way all jobs work?
- T
Friday, November 17, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
One of my curiosities... poppies and legacies
The long weekend that ended yesterday did very little to catch me up on the massive amount of work I SHOULD have done over the past few weeks. I'm kinda-sorta caught up, but knowing my limited abilities in the organizational department, I really should have done more. I did some marking, had my lesson plans relatively established, and had a couple good classes today. They could always go better, but they were generally sucessful.
Speaking of the weekend, I do have to say that I encountered some disappointment. Now, I'm sure that many people recall the Remembrance Day Ceremonies in school, and the obligatory video that most Canadian schools showed. When I was in elementary school, we watched one that featured real WWI and WWII war footage and events that were set to the music of our all-Canadian icon, Bryan Adams. I attended while supervising a class for our Social Studies department head, and was dismayed to find out that, yes, in 2006, a solid 18 years after entering elementary school, students were still watching the same video that I did!
My biggest issue was related to the tone of the music to which this war footage was set. Adams was rocking out, the song was relatively upbeat, and you might even get inspired if you heard it on the radio. As we get older, there are fewer and fewer veterans around, and more and more kids are growing up without any knowledge of the wars... their grandparents or great-grandparents aren't alive or weren't alive to experience the wars, and we're becoming more detached from the events all the time. In that Remembrance Day video, Bryan Adams rocks out while soliders are being shot dead. DEAD. And a big guitar solo blares through the speakers. Those were real men dying, and although the students were generally silent as they watched the videos, I don't think that they understood that those men dying in the video footage may have been their age... 15, 16, 17 years old. I don't think they even understand that 8mm film was used to shoot a good deal of the footage, or what impact the lack of technology had at the time. Those men were dead. Stone dead... from a nearby explosion or a high-calibre rifle.... it wasn't simply a recreation or comic imitation.
The Globe and Mail ran an article last week discussing the issue of whether Canada would hold a state funeral for the last living Canadian soldier of the Great War. There are 3 left alive. One is 105, and two others are 106. Best-case scenario, these three vets entered the war in 1918 and were AT MOST 17 or 18 years old. If they enlisted early on in the war (although the chances may be slim), they would have entered the war at 13 or 14 years of age. Just kids. These men don't have a great deal of time left, and once they're gone, that's it. As for the WWII vets, these men and women are in (at least) their 70's (born between the late 20's and early 30's) and will be following the same trends. My curiosity is this: what are we to do to make these events more meaningful to our kids? I have my grandparents who lived through and (on my dad's side) escaped Europe after surviving the war to come to Canada. But as this older generation passes on, who will be left to carry that torch?
Ask yourself that question the next time you see a poppy.
- T
Speaking of the weekend, I do have to say that I encountered some disappointment. Now, I'm sure that many people recall the Remembrance Day Ceremonies in school, and the obligatory video that most Canadian schools showed. When I was in elementary school, we watched one that featured real WWI and WWII war footage and events that were set to the music of our all-Canadian icon, Bryan Adams. I attended while supervising a class for our Social Studies department head, and was dismayed to find out that, yes, in 2006, a solid 18 years after entering elementary school, students were still watching the same video that I did!
My biggest issue was related to the tone of the music to which this war footage was set. Adams was rocking out, the song was relatively upbeat, and you might even get inspired if you heard it on the radio. As we get older, there are fewer and fewer veterans around, and more and more kids are growing up without any knowledge of the wars... their grandparents or great-grandparents aren't alive or weren't alive to experience the wars, and we're becoming more detached from the events all the time. In that Remembrance Day video, Bryan Adams rocks out while soliders are being shot dead. DEAD. And a big guitar solo blares through the speakers. Those were real men dying, and although the students were generally silent as they watched the videos, I don't think that they understood that those men dying in the video footage may have been their age... 15, 16, 17 years old. I don't think they even understand that 8mm film was used to shoot a good deal of the footage, or what impact the lack of technology had at the time. Those men were dead. Stone dead... from a nearby explosion or a high-calibre rifle.... it wasn't simply a recreation or comic imitation.
The Globe and Mail ran an article last week discussing the issue of whether Canada would hold a state funeral for the last living Canadian soldier of the Great War. There are 3 left alive. One is 105, and two others are 106. Best-case scenario, these three vets entered the war in 1918 and were AT MOST 17 or 18 years old. If they enlisted early on in the war (although the chances may be slim), they would have entered the war at 13 or 14 years of age. Just kids. These men don't have a great deal of time left, and once they're gone, that's it. As for the WWII vets, these men and women are in (at least) their 70's (born between the late 20's and early 30's) and will be following the same trends. My curiosity is this: what are we to do to make these events more meaningful to our kids? I have my grandparents who lived through and (on my dad's side) escaped Europe after surviving the war to come to Canada. But as this older generation passes on, who will be left to carry that torch?
Ask yourself that question the next time you see a poppy.
- T
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Jon Stewart is my hero...
He's possibly the funniest guy around. Thanks, J., for providing access to this wonderful clip that made me smile from ear to ear.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I827LRbkgTg
Not much to add other thanthe fact that my interim report with my university advisor went well, and after having a nice dinner with K, I've regained some calm. Have a good night, all...
- T
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I827LRbkgTg
Not much to add other thanthe fact that my interim report with my university advisor went well, and after having a nice dinner with K, I've regained some calm. Have a good night, all...
- T
The burden of expectations and restless nights
I didn't sleep well last night. I tossed. Turned. I'm sure there was a flop as well. I checked the clock at 3:47am and realized that I was going to be tired today. Luckily it's a non-teaching day. But that's the only reason I'm lucky. It's the morning of my university interim report. The meeting and moment of judgement come in exactly 3 hours and 17 minutes... oh, wait, 16 minutes. And I also just got finished with my sponsor teacher, who wants to see far more work for my unit plan than I expected... and she wants to see it today. The day of my judgment. In all facets of my academic life, there's stress, anxiety, and antacids.
When I'm in front of my classes, I don't really feel any anxiety. I'm comfortable, I enjoy being around the students, and although there are some stressful moments, I feel at ease in that situation. It's the satellite things in my day that cause me stress. Some are completely unrelated to teaching too... sometimes it's money, sometimes it's the huge burden of expectations from family/colleagues, other times it's just the day-to-day organizational struggles I face as an absent-minded buffoon. Example: I tried putting the milk in the cupboard beside our bowls and plates.
One of my friends/fellow interns asked me today if I ever seriously reconsider this whole teaching thing. My immediate reaction was, "Absolutely". I thought about this response for a minute and realized that it wasn't literally the teaching part that caused this concern... it was everything else. Teaching is an insane amount of work, especially as a new teacher. It requires a massive range of skills and you have a huge learning curve when you're starting out. Also, the threat of upset parents, angry students, disappointed sponsors, disappointed colleagues, hyper-anxious ME, is enough to drive a person nutso. I know I've said this before but it can be overwhelming.
Okay, enough tears for today. I've got some work ahead of me, so the pity party will have to wait. Until again...
- T
When I'm in front of my classes, I don't really feel any anxiety. I'm comfortable, I enjoy being around the students, and although there are some stressful moments, I feel at ease in that situation. It's the satellite things in my day that cause me stress. Some are completely unrelated to teaching too... sometimes it's money, sometimes it's the huge burden of expectations from family/colleagues, other times it's just the day-to-day organizational struggles I face as an absent-minded buffoon. Example: I tried putting the milk in the cupboard beside our bowls and plates.
One of my friends/fellow interns asked me today if I ever seriously reconsider this whole teaching thing. My immediate reaction was, "Absolutely". I thought about this response for a minute and realized that it wasn't literally the teaching part that caused this concern... it was everything else. Teaching is an insane amount of work, especially as a new teacher. It requires a massive range of skills and you have a huge learning curve when you're starting out. Also, the threat of upset parents, angry students, disappointed sponsors, disappointed colleagues, hyper-anxious ME, is enough to drive a person nutso. I know I've said this before but it can be overwhelming.
Okay, enough tears for today. I've got some work ahead of me, so the pity party will have to wait. Until again...
- T
Monday, November 06, 2006
More memories...
K and I went to stay at the Kilmorey Lodge a few years ago as an excuse to get out of the city and spend some of the Christmas holidays together, alone. There isn't much to do there in the winter, except enjoy the peace and quiet of Waterton in the off-season. There were some deer searching for food... the odd bird would chirp in the distance... but for the most part, the onlt thing to hear was silence.
We went for a walk one night, and just as we started walking, it started to snow lightly. Hollywood snow. Fictional snow. Snow that only falls on TV or in books or in dreams.
Fresh snow always reminds me of how the world forgets... and it's people who remember. Whether through stories, books, moments engraved into our mind, we remember, but the world just moves on.
As we were walking silently, I looked behind us to see our footprints filling up and disappearing in the snow. It made me think of a tropical beach, where the tide washes away any evidence of people as they stroll along the water at sunset. As we walked, our footprints disappeared more and more. I knelt down and placed my hand in the snow. The crystals melted away, leaving the perfect imprint of my hand there. I stood up, and we kept walking. I looked back once more to see the flakes fill up the void beside the street, slowly and methodically painting over the imprint I left.
I guess I just wanted to leave something behind, even if I knew the inevitability of it disappearing once I'd gone.
- T
We went for a walk one night, and just as we started walking, it started to snow lightly. Hollywood snow. Fictional snow. Snow that only falls on TV or in books or in dreams.
Fresh snow always reminds me of how the world forgets... and it's people who remember. Whether through stories, books, moments engraved into our mind, we remember, but the world just moves on.
As we were walking silently, I looked behind us to see our footprints filling up and disappearing in the snow. It made me think of a tropical beach, where the tide washes away any evidence of people as they stroll along the water at sunset. As we walked, our footprints disappeared more and more. I knelt down and placed my hand in the snow. The crystals melted away, leaving the perfect imprint of my hand there. I stood up, and we kept walking. I looked back once more to see the flakes fill up the void beside the street, slowly and methodically painting over the imprint I left.
I guess I just wanted to leave something behind, even if I knew the inevitability of it disappearing once I'd gone.
- T
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Saddam sentenced
Most of us have watched television shows about the wild west, where verdicts for particularly brutal crimes are taken seriously and the guilty are punished by death. Hangings, stonings, firing squad. You name it. But that was in the old days. Right? Actually, even though we may think those days are in the past, they still exist. Maybe not in a Toronto suburb, or a corner of North Vancouver, but they exist within the reaches of our network news and media. And in Iraq.
From time to time, I idealise the world and have the idea in my head that we're civilized organisms who understand that an eye for an eye makes the world blind. But I grew up in the Canadian prairie suburbia. I had a bike, and a small school to attend, caring parents, food on my plate, clothes on my back, and people around me who were looking out for my well-being. I would take my bike to the dirt hills without the slightest fear that something was going to happen to me. I was more worried about showing up at school with bad hair than anything else. I broke a few bones in my life, but only one of them was from any sort of angry aggression, and it was on the playground in sixth grade. Sure, I've said I've hated people, but there has been so little done to me that the hatred is predominantly superficial. In reality, I have little to hate. I find some things to be frustrated about from time to time, but very little to hate. And nothing (or no one) at all to wish death on.
Yet the media and our idealised western world makes us hate these people that do wrong. And for good reason, I'd say. So, then... Why does the whole verdict make me feel uneasy? Why am I uneasy that Saddam Hussein is being sentenced to death? We've been conditioned by years of seeing Saddam as an enemy, a war criminal, a despot. We see his picture and have ill feelings towards him. We see him and see an enemy of western ideals and against democracy. But still, I look at the guilty verdict and the upcoming punishment of hanging, and I find myself feeling uncertain... why? I'm still not sure.
I've known for a long time that politics in never black and white, and perspective is highly influential in our personal responses to such events. Our media plays a huge role (if not the only role) in the dispersement of information now, particularly since we can receive news about a pin dropping in Australia before it has even rolled to a stop. And we have faith in this media. Or most of it anyway. I read the news and believe what it says. When there is an obvious perspective being favoured (i.e. in the Editorial section), I take it with a grain of salt. Or if it's coming from Fox News. Or Ann Coulter. But even in regular news stories, points of view are being ignored, discarded, and pushed aside. I think my biggest problem is that I don't think we'll ever know the whole story of things happening internationally, or even locally for that matter. So how do we pursue truth and when do we just satisfy ourselves with the fact that we will never know anything. I know the old adage, "The more I learn, the more I realise I don't know". And it's definitely true to an extent. But can we ever simply satisfy ourselves with just not knowing? I guess this is when conviction takes over and accounts for some of the religious fanaticism that is around the world... we can't be totally sure, but we'll never be sure, so why not hold onto this one grain of sand with all that we're worth? Surely it can't be that wrong?
Maybe this post isn't very well organized, and maybe I'm starting off on one thing and just bringing out anything related. My original site disclaimer said to watch for such incessant rambling. So leave me a comment and let me know if you understood any of this.. I'll probably come back in a couple of days and see that it's nonsensical. Oh well, it's one of my trademarks. ;)
- T
From time to time, I idealise the world and have the idea in my head that we're civilized organisms who understand that an eye for an eye makes the world blind. But I grew up in the Canadian prairie suburbia. I had a bike, and a small school to attend, caring parents, food on my plate, clothes on my back, and people around me who were looking out for my well-being. I would take my bike to the dirt hills without the slightest fear that something was going to happen to me. I was more worried about showing up at school with bad hair than anything else. I broke a few bones in my life, but only one of them was from any sort of angry aggression, and it was on the playground in sixth grade. Sure, I've said I've hated people, but there has been so little done to me that the hatred is predominantly superficial. In reality, I have little to hate. I find some things to be frustrated about from time to time, but very little to hate. And nothing (or no one) at all to wish death on.
Yet the media and our idealised western world makes us hate these people that do wrong. And for good reason, I'd say. So, then... Why does the whole verdict make me feel uneasy? Why am I uneasy that Saddam Hussein is being sentenced to death? We've been conditioned by years of seeing Saddam as an enemy, a war criminal, a despot. We see his picture and have ill feelings towards him. We see him and see an enemy of western ideals and against democracy. But still, I look at the guilty verdict and the upcoming punishment of hanging, and I find myself feeling uncertain... why? I'm still not sure.
I've known for a long time that politics in never black and white, and perspective is highly influential in our personal responses to such events. Our media plays a huge role (if not the only role) in the dispersement of information now, particularly since we can receive news about a pin dropping in Australia before it has even rolled to a stop. And we have faith in this media. Or most of it anyway. I read the news and believe what it says. When there is an obvious perspective being favoured (i.e. in the Editorial section), I take it with a grain of salt. Or if it's coming from Fox News. Or Ann Coulter. But even in regular news stories, points of view are being ignored, discarded, and pushed aside. I think my biggest problem is that I don't think we'll ever know the whole story of things happening internationally, or even locally for that matter. So how do we pursue truth and when do we just satisfy ourselves with the fact that we will never know anything. I know the old adage, "The more I learn, the more I realise I don't know". And it's definitely true to an extent. But can we ever simply satisfy ourselves with just not knowing? I guess this is when conviction takes over and accounts for some of the religious fanaticism that is around the world... we can't be totally sure, but we'll never be sure, so why not hold onto this one grain of sand with all that we're worth? Surely it can't be that wrong?
Maybe this post isn't very well organized, and maybe I'm starting off on one thing and just bringing out anything related. My original site disclaimer said to watch for such incessant rambling. So leave me a comment and let me know if you understood any of this.. I'll probably come back in a couple of days and see that it's nonsensical. Oh well, it's one of my trademarks. ;)
- T
Thursday, November 02, 2006
And the season comes to an end...
Our volleyball team finished the final game of their season last night. During the day, I expected this to be our last game, since I sort of expected to lose. Not a great way to look at things, but I'm a realist at heart. They could've beat this team, but considering they don't play their best ball, well, any of the time, I shouldn't be surprised that they didn't come out flying in their final game either. All week I was looking forward to this game, since I knew it would be the last. I wouldn't have to worry about practices or games or tournaments or tracking down players when they miss a match or forget their gear for a game. I was just excited that I might be able to spend some time with K.
The referee's whistle blew the end of the final point, the players returned to their end lines, and we brought the guys in for a round of cheers for the other team. We shook hands with players, coaches, referees, and left the court. I made a brief final speech about being proud of them and was thanked by the players that attended the game, as well as the parents who came in support. I put my jacket on, rode the bus home, and watched some TV.
But I walked away with a little sadness. Not all of the guys made the final game due to Take Your Kid To Work Day commitments, and one of our players refused to show up out of spite (since I kicked him out of practice the previous day). And we lost a game I know we could've one. And I knew that we were done, and I wouldn't be able to coach this team anymore. And I was a little bit melancholy, being it was the end of my first coaching endeavour. I've really enjoyed coaching, playing around teaching the guys some skills, and just getting to know a group of boys who will be men in a few more years. Sure, I'll see them at school and we'll probably have a little season-ending wind-up, but it's done. It seems like a tidy little package on paper... a very clean beginning which is all wrapped up at a distinct end with a bow on the top.
Why doesn't it feel that tidy and distinct?
- T
The referee's whistle blew the end of the final point, the players returned to their end lines, and we brought the guys in for a round of cheers for the other team. We shook hands with players, coaches, referees, and left the court. I made a brief final speech about being proud of them and was thanked by the players that attended the game, as well as the parents who came in support. I put my jacket on, rode the bus home, and watched some TV.
But I walked away with a little sadness. Not all of the guys made the final game due to Take Your Kid To Work Day commitments, and one of our players refused to show up out of spite (since I kicked him out of practice the previous day). And we lost a game I know we could've one. And I knew that we were done, and I wouldn't be able to coach this team anymore. And I was a little bit melancholy, being it was the end of my first coaching endeavour. I've really enjoyed coaching, playing around teaching the guys some skills, and just getting to know a group of boys who will be men in a few more years. Sure, I'll see them at school and we'll probably have a little season-ending wind-up, but it's done. It seems like a tidy little package on paper... a very clean beginning which is all wrapped up at a distinct end with a bow on the top.
Why doesn't it feel that tidy and distinct?
- T
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Happy Halloween
Although I'm not a big dresser-upper, I do like learning about the history of holidays. Although I'm not sure whether or not the veracity of this site's information has been thoroughly checked and rechecked, have a look at the brief history of Halloween. Those Catholics really know how to steal a holiday! :)
http://www.history.com/minisites/halloween/viewPage?pageId=713
And here's a little Halloween poem I wrote... I'm not anti-Halloween, but since I didn't dress up today, I was being hassled by a number of people... So here you are...
To heck with all ye ghastly ghouls
Who prance around dressed up like fools
And bob for fruit and beg for treats
Never to prove thyself through feats.
A ding-dong here means fill the bag,
And a knock-knock says we'll play a gag.
So enjoy the ruckus and find my peeve
By playing the devil on All Hallow's Eve.
Back to work for me... all prep and no play make T a dull boy. But, dull I will remain for tonight! Ciao...
- T
http://www.history.com/minisites/halloween/viewPage?pageId=713
And here's a little Halloween poem I wrote... I'm not anti-Halloween, but since I didn't dress up today, I was being hassled by a number of people... So here you are...
To heck with all ye ghastly ghouls
Who prance around dressed up like fools
And bob for fruit and beg for treats
Never to prove thyself through feats.
A ding-dong here means fill the bag,
And a knock-knock says we'll play a gag.
So enjoy the ruckus and find my peeve
By playing the devil on All Hallow's Eve.
Back to work for me... all prep and no play make T a dull boy. But, dull I will remain for tonight! Ciao...
- T
Have I really been doing this for 2 months?
I think it really sunk in this morning. I'm sitting with my coffee in front of me, limited stress (I teach all day one day and have the next day to prep... it's the prep day), I just finished reading The G&M, and I had a moderately enjoyable sleep last night. Why did it sink in that I've been in the Okanagan for 2 months?? One word: weather.
So, it's bloody cold. Well, I guess it's not, really, considering southern Alberta is looking at temperatures in the negative teens WITHOUT the wind chill factor. However, let us recall that I'd been living in the temperate paradise known as Victoria for the past 3 years. People say that I'm from Alberta, so this whole cold/snow/wind thing shouldn't really affect me. And this even SEEMS like a plausible point. HOWEVER, it took me a total of 12 minutes to become acclimated to the west coast weather and Victoria only receives about 2 days of snow a year. Sure, the outlying areas might enjoy (or recoil in horror to) a bit more snow and maybe a touch of sleet and misery, but it's limited, especially when you don't venture outside of Victoria unless it's summertime or Christmas vacation. In other words, I'm a big wuss.
I haven't used that word in years. It just looks funny. WUSS. Is that even how you spell such a charming colloquialism?
Yes, I had my winter 3-in-1 style jacket one, as well as a warm toque and a sweater underneath all of this bulk. But I don't even have a pair of bloody mitts or long johns any more! So my skinny fingers were losing their feeling. Luckily, I was running a bit late to the bus today so I was doing my best power-walking impression to get to the bus on time. And this also helped to keep the blood moving in my lower extremedies. But it's still bloody cold. Frost. Frostbite. Wind chills. Negative temperatures. Idling cars. Lock de-icer. Frozen bits of breath in the air.
These things made me realize that I'm not in Victoria anymore, Toto. I'm in a new place with new challenges and something resembling a career. What the heck happened to the carefree days of travelling foreign continents and being a patron at a variety of nightclubs while working at another club? I shouldn't be surprised... it's been a long time coming. The grey hairs prove it. Sometimes it just hits you like a bag of bricks to the solar plexis.
- T
So, it's bloody cold. Well, I guess it's not, really, considering southern Alberta is looking at temperatures in the negative teens WITHOUT the wind chill factor. However, let us recall that I'd been living in the temperate paradise known as Victoria for the past 3 years. People say that I'm from Alberta, so this whole cold/snow/wind thing shouldn't really affect me. And this even SEEMS like a plausible point. HOWEVER, it took me a total of 12 minutes to become acclimated to the west coast weather and Victoria only receives about 2 days of snow a year. Sure, the outlying areas might enjoy (or recoil in horror to) a bit more snow and maybe a touch of sleet and misery, but it's limited, especially when you don't venture outside of Victoria unless it's summertime or Christmas vacation. In other words, I'm a big wuss.
I haven't used that word in years. It just looks funny. WUSS. Is that even how you spell such a charming colloquialism?
Yes, I had my winter 3-in-1 style jacket one, as well as a warm toque and a sweater underneath all of this bulk. But I don't even have a pair of bloody mitts or long johns any more! So my skinny fingers were losing their feeling. Luckily, I was running a bit late to the bus today so I was doing my best power-walking impression to get to the bus on time. And this also helped to keep the blood moving in my lower extremedies. But it's still bloody cold. Frost. Frostbite. Wind chills. Negative temperatures. Idling cars. Lock de-icer. Frozen bits of breath in the air.
These things made me realize that I'm not in Victoria anymore, Toto. I'm in a new place with new challenges and something resembling a career. What the heck happened to the carefree days of travelling foreign continents and being a patron at a variety of nightclubs while working at another club? I shouldn't be surprised... it's been a long time coming. The grey hairs prove it. Sometimes it just hits you like a bag of bricks to the solar plexis.
- T
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Yet another Sunday
And there's little to talk about.
I've just been musing a lot lately. Thinking about people in the past, what they may be doing now, what they think I'm up to... wondering how things would be if I made a different decision about travelling or moving to BC or even pursuing English as a degree. Who I would've met, how things would've changed.
It just seems like some days fly by, where moments stand still. I know that there is a far more complex explanation to Einstein's theory of relativity.... however, the analogy of a hot stove/burning hand and the time spent in the company of a beautiful woman makes perfect sense. Pain can be drawn out too, and a difficult moment can be made to last a lifetime if handled with narcissism or angst or impatience. And uneventful experiences can simply slip by, to be lost in some sort of subconscious abyss.
I've been thinking about this occupation of teaching a great deal lately as well. For instance, whether or not I'm cut out for it, the extensive number of skills and talents that need to along with it (in order to be successful), the dedication and skill it takes to be good at it, the fact that certain things are simply innate and others have to be practiced incessantly... the fact that it's exhausting, and rewarding, and stressful.
Still, I've been told a couple things that I seem to have forgotten since I've become so bogged down with prep and marking and prep and marking... that we're here for the students... to make them into better people, better readers/writers/feelers, into thinkers, into adults. And it's the students that we're doing this for. If you like being around them, then everything else will come. I'm hoping this is the case, because sometimes I just don't know if I have what it takes (organization, work ethic, etc.). I've also been told that the two hardest things to "learn" are rapport and classroom management. Although the latter of these two still needs some work, I'm doing okay in the first department. Now, I just have to learn how to teach.
But, I have the rest of my career to figure that out. Now I guess I should just learn how to deal with limited time and limited sleep. And what I'm going to do tomorrow for class.
Stealing from Riverbend's blog...
"I'll meet you 'round the bend my friend, where hearts can heal and souls can mend"
- T
I've just been musing a lot lately. Thinking about people in the past, what they may be doing now, what they think I'm up to... wondering how things would be if I made a different decision about travelling or moving to BC or even pursuing English as a degree. Who I would've met, how things would've changed.
It just seems like some days fly by, where moments stand still. I know that there is a far more complex explanation to Einstein's theory of relativity.... however, the analogy of a hot stove/burning hand and the time spent in the company of a beautiful woman makes perfect sense. Pain can be drawn out too, and a difficult moment can be made to last a lifetime if handled with narcissism or angst or impatience. And uneventful experiences can simply slip by, to be lost in some sort of subconscious abyss.
I've been thinking about this occupation of teaching a great deal lately as well. For instance, whether or not I'm cut out for it, the extensive number of skills and talents that need to along with it (in order to be successful), the dedication and skill it takes to be good at it, the fact that certain things are simply innate and others have to be practiced incessantly... the fact that it's exhausting, and rewarding, and stressful.
Still, I've been told a couple things that I seem to have forgotten since I've become so bogged down with prep and marking and prep and marking... that we're here for the students... to make them into better people, better readers/writers/feelers, into thinkers, into adults. And it's the students that we're doing this for. If you like being around them, then everything else will come. I'm hoping this is the case, because sometimes I just don't know if I have what it takes (organization, work ethic, etc.). I've also been told that the two hardest things to "learn" are rapport and classroom management. Although the latter of these two still needs some work, I'm doing okay in the first department. Now, I just have to learn how to teach.
But, I have the rest of my career to figure that out. Now I guess I should just learn how to deal with limited time and limited sleep. And what I'm going to do tomorrow for class.
Stealing from Riverbend's blog...
"I'll meet you 'round the bend my friend, where hearts can heal and souls can mend"
- T
Thursday, October 26, 2006
My "I" Bag...
Over the summer, one of my education professors had our class do a project that she did with her high school students in English. The project was titled the "I" Bag. In it, we were expected to fill the bag with 5 things that mean something to us, whether that would be a keepsake from a trip, an old letter from a friend, a symbolic item used to represent you, a picture that means something, etc. It's a pretty personal project, but at the same time is one that really gets people to look at the things in their lives and discover the meaning. So, for my English class, I decided to assign this project for next week.
I think the project is contingent on the fact that the teacher needs to do one to as a sort of ice-breaking example. But in a way, it's a good way for people to get to know other people, and for the students to learn a little something about me. So, for the few people that read this thing, here's my "I" Bag (sorry, no pictures... maybe I'll post them soon)...
The first and most obvious item in the bag is a Canadian flag. I bought this flag (okay, maybe I stole it from the basement in my parents house) before making a four-month backpacking trip to Europe in 2002. After a year of university at the University of Lethbridge, I decided that I needed to do something that was unrelated to school. So, I took two years off from university, saved up about eight thousand dollars, and flew to Europe with a close friend, leaving my girlfriend and family at home. The names of every city and town I visited over the four months were recorded on this flag and recall a great variety of memories. It also represents the first moment in my life that I took my future into my own hands and did something I was truly passionate about. It was this decision that ultimately led me to Victoria and now here.
The second item in the "I" Bag is a t-shirt with the name "Mangrt" on it. This is actually the name of the highest paved road in Slovenia, located in Triglav National Park. Although I have not actually been on this road, this shirt was given to me by a distant relative that I met while I was on my trip. My grandparents immigrated to Canada from Slovenia in the late 1940's, and the fact that I made it to Slovenia (not speaking a word of Slovene and knowing little about what to expect) was a very important thing for me. I was very close with my grandparents, and have spent hours listening to stories from the "Old Country" that my grandmother so endearingly (and often tearfully) recalls. The shirt represents not only a part of my heritage, but provides me with a connection to my roots, my family, and the manifestation of my "pilgrimage". While I was there, I visited the homes in which my grandparents grew up (in Naklo and Skofia Loka), met many distant family members, and truly developed a sense of person to which I could connect my experiences.
The third item found in the bag is a picture of my wife, K, and myself. We were married just over a year ago, but she has been by my side as I chose to travel through Europe, when I took time off from school, when I moved to Victoria (even without her for a year!), and pursued my education and my love of literature. She's the most important person in my life, and challenges me daily to be a better person.
The fourth item is a small keychain bearing the logo of the AVA (Alberta Volleyball Association). This represents both my love of sports (particularly volleyball), as well as my connection to Alberta, where I spent the first 20 of 24 years in my life. I received this keychain about 8 years ago while playing competitive club volleyball for the Lethbridge Volleyball Club. It also reminds me of my family... particularly my brother, who I've played with on numerous occasions and who is going to be my coaching mentor now that I'm coaching a team at my host school.
The final item is a pen. It may seem banal, but connects me to my love of literature and my need to write as a way of dealing with the world... my catharsis, if you will. Through my teens and to now, I've always turned to pen and paper to deal with emotions and work out ways to interact with the world. Likewise, it represents my interest in learning about a variety of things, as well as my love for reading. There is a Biblical Proverb that reads, "It is the will of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of Kings to search out a matter". This is indicative of my pursuit of knowledge and self, and is very much a mantra that I attempt to live by.
I think the project is contingent on the fact that the teacher needs to do one to as a sort of ice-breaking example. But in a way, it's a good way for people to get to know other people, and for the students to learn a little something about me. So, for the few people that read this thing, here's my "I" Bag (sorry, no pictures... maybe I'll post them soon)...
The first and most obvious item in the bag is a Canadian flag. I bought this flag (okay, maybe I stole it from the basement in my parents house) before making a four-month backpacking trip to Europe in 2002. After a year of university at the University of Lethbridge, I decided that I needed to do something that was unrelated to school. So, I took two years off from university, saved up about eight thousand dollars, and flew to Europe with a close friend, leaving my girlfriend and family at home. The names of every city and town I visited over the four months were recorded on this flag and recall a great variety of memories. It also represents the first moment in my life that I took my future into my own hands and did something I was truly passionate about. It was this decision that ultimately led me to Victoria and now here.
The second item in the "I" Bag is a t-shirt with the name "Mangrt" on it. This is actually the name of the highest paved road in Slovenia, located in Triglav National Park. Although I have not actually been on this road, this shirt was given to me by a distant relative that I met while I was on my trip. My grandparents immigrated to Canada from Slovenia in the late 1940's, and the fact that I made it to Slovenia (not speaking a word of Slovene and knowing little about what to expect) was a very important thing for me. I was very close with my grandparents, and have spent hours listening to stories from the "Old Country" that my grandmother so endearingly (and often tearfully) recalls. The shirt represents not only a part of my heritage, but provides me with a connection to my roots, my family, and the manifestation of my "pilgrimage". While I was there, I visited the homes in which my grandparents grew up (in Naklo and Skofia Loka), met many distant family members, and truly developed a sense of person to which I could connect my experiences.
The third item found in the bag is a picture of my wife, K, and myself. We were married just over a year ago, but she has been by my side as I chose to travel through Europe, when I took time off from school, when I moved to Victoria (even without her for a year!), and pursued my education and my love of literature. She's the most important person in my life, and challenges me daily to be a better person.
The fourth item is a small keychain bearing the logo of the AVA (Alberta Volleyball Association). This represents both my love of sports (particularly volleyball), as well as my connection to Alberta, where I spent the first 20 of 24 years in my life. I received this keychain about 8 years ago while playing competitive club volleyball for the Lethbridge Volleyball Club. It also reminds me of my family... particularly my brother, who I've played with on numerous occasions and who is going to be my coaching mentor now that I'm coaching a team at my host school.
The final item is a pen. It may seem banal, but connects me to my love of literature and my need to write as a way of dealing with the world... my catharsis, if you will. Through my teens and to now, I've always turned to pen and paper to deal with emotions and work out ways to interact with the world. Likewise, it represents my interest in learning about a variety of things, as well as my love for reading. There is a Biblical Proverb that reads, "It is the will of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of Kings to search out a matter". This is indicative of my pursuit of knowledge and self, and is very much a mantra that I attempt to live by.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Sunday eve...
... and I just finished watching "Dead Poet's Society". It's been one of my favorite movies for years... probably since the first time I saw in, I think, 11th grade. I hadn't seen it in years. I actually wrote my English diploma exam on it in 12th grade, and received a perfect mark of 100%. It's kind-of a claim to fame for me, as there were only like 2 others in my grad class of 185 to do it... my best friend (also our valedictorian) and a girl who received the second or third highest grade in English in our school. She was actually a talented writer, and I acted in our senior year musical with her... however, she's one of the few people from my grad class that has passed away since high school. She died in a car accident on her way home one day, and was the one that I "saw" when I was in Belfast over east weekend in 2002. It was her ghost that I tell people I saw. To this day I find it strange that I saw someone who looked exactly like her who seemed to disappear in the crowd while I was walking down the street, thousands of miles from home on a religious holiday.
When I have memories like these, I think and wonder how I'm as lucky as I am. All the time, I hear about people who have had close friends pass away in car accidents, or pass away from suicide, or tragic illnesses. And then there's me. I've had 2 great-grandparents pass on... also the parent of one of my friends a few years ago. And then my acquaintance A.Y. in the car accident after high school. There were also a couple of students from my high school who passed away while I was still a student there, but I didn't really know them. I just think of how lucky I've been... no tragedies... no surprise deaths (beyond A.Y.). I was really sad to see my great-grandparents pass on, but it was as if they were managable, since both were very sick and both had the chance to live full lives. Few people today have even had the chance to meet their great-grandparents, or even grandparents for that matter. And I still have my great-grandpa around. Funny story... when K and I sent out invitations for the wedding last year, he was the first one to RSVP. He phoned my in-laws (who were receiving all the RSVP's) and said, "Hello! This is Howard calling! I'm T's great-grandfather! I just want to tell you that I'm coming to the wedding for T and K!". He also mentioned that he was going to be the oldest one there at 91 years old. I don't think he knew that my grandpa on my dad's side was the same age (within a few months)... Still, I think of how I have a number of relatives that have lived into their 80's and 90's, and how few of my friends/acquaintances/relatives have passed on. I've lived a charmed life for these reasons. And for many more. I won't bore you with all the details today, but it's definitely a charmed life. However, I have my issues like anyone else.
K and I were also talking last night about some things. I was asked if I was interested in helping coach a city Club Volleyball team in the new year. I mentioned that I didn't have my Level 1 certification, and T.S., the guy that runs the club and coaches one of the high school teams we play against, said that they would pay for the clinic to get certified. Definitely flattering... So I brought it up with K to see what she thought.
It's funny where the conversation went from here. She came out and told me that I better get my shit together before I think of committing myself to anything else. This volleyball season has definitely made me tired, and I'm often scrambling to get things done. The thing is, she wasn't saying it out of bitterness... she really has faith that I can do a lot more than I ever thought. I don't think I ever realized was how much faith she had in me. It's amazing... she really believes that I can do a world of things that I don't even think I can do myself. Throughout my life, people have told me that I can do a lot of things. The problem is, I really don't believe that I can do them half the time myself. I'm insecure and I second-guess myself every chance I get. I put up a facade of having everything under control... in many cases it's just an act I use to get by.
I also frustrate her with my lack of organization. Although I know I'm absent-minded and disorganized, I really always thought that I couldn't help this... that it is just how I am, and that's how I work. She told me that I should only commit to the coaching if I could get everything organized and make sure I had everything under control for the next term (where I go up to teaching a 75% load). She made it clear that there were a lot of people depending on me... not just her and us as a unit, but my students as well. At first, I was somewhat upset, that she literally told me to get my crap in line before I over-commit myself. She also came out and told me that she thought I blame too much on the fact that I'm absent-minded.
Now, it sounds somewhat harsh. But she has a point. I do everything I can to excuse my failings and my limitations because I hate living with the fact that I'm not good at something. This is part of the reason why I hate skating and avoid swimming... I'd rather stick with things that I'm comfortable doing. This goes for my absent-mindedness and my lack of organization... I've tricked myself into believing that I can't do anything about it, so I just roll with it and refuse to think about the fact that I could probably do something to fix it, or at least limit the effects of it. How to do this? I'm not certain.
I think that a lot of people do this... refuse to acknowledge their limitations and blame a whole world of things on their weaknesses. I'm not innocent. Actually, I'm probably more guilty than most. I know my weaknesses, but I don't confront them or try to do anything to fix them. Part of the reason for this is that I wouldn't know where to start. Another is simply the discomfort of challenging my demons and vanquishing them. I've always loved the story of a hero... however, I don't think I have the courage to be one myself.
I guess I should start listening to the romantic message of Dead Poet's Society...
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying."
- R. Herrick
- T
When I have memories like these, I think and wonder how I'm as lucky as I am. All the time, I hear about people who have had close friends pass away in car accidents, or pass away from suicide, or tragic illnesses. And then there's me. I've had 2 great-grandparents pass on... also the parent of one of my friends a few years ago. And then my acquaintance A.Y. in the car accident after high school. There were also a couple of students from my high school who passed away while I was still a student there, but I didn't really know them. I just think of how lucky I've been... no tragedies... no surprise deaths (beyond A.Y.). I was really sad to see my great-grandparents pass on, but it was as if they were managable, since both were very sick and both had the chance to live full lives. Few people today have even had the chance to meet their great-grandparents, or even grandparents for that matter. And I still have my great-grandpa around. Funny story... when K and I sent out invitations for the wedding last year, he was the first one to RSVP. He phoned my in-laws (who were receiving all the RSVP's) and said, "Hello! This is Howard calling! I'm T's great-grandfather! I just want to tell you that I'm coming to the wedding for T and K!". He also mentioned that he was going to be the oldest one there at 91 years old. I don't think he knew that my grandpa on my dad's side was the same age (within a few months)... Still, I think of how I have a number of relatives that have lived into their 80's and 90's, and how few of my friends/acquaintances/relatives have passed on. I've lived a charmed life for these reasons. And for many more. I won't bore you with all the details today, but it's definitely a charmed life. However, I have my issues like anyone else.
K and I were also talking last night about some things. I was asked if I was interested in helping coach a city Club Volleyball team in the new year. I mentioned that I didn't have my Level 1 certification, and T.S., the guy that runs the club and coaches one of the high school teams we play against, said that they would pay for the clinic to get certified. Definitely flattering... So I brought it up with K to see what she thought.
It's funny where the conversation went from here. She came out and told me that I better get my shit together before I think of committing myself to anything else. This volleyball season has definitely made me tired, and I'm often scrambling to get things done. The thing is, she wasn't saying it out of bitterness... she really has faith that I can do a lot more than I ever thought. I don't think I ever realized was how much faith she had in me. It's amazing... she really believes that I can do a world of things that I don't even think I can do myself. Throughout my life, people have told me that I can do a lot of things. The problem is, I really don't believe that I can do them half the time myself. I'm insecure and I second-guess myself every chance I get. I put up a facade of having everything under control... in many cases it's just an act I use to get by.
I also frustrate her with my lack of organization. Although I know I'm absent-minded and disorganized, I really always thought that I couldn't help this... that it is just how I am, and that's how I work. She told me that I should only commit to the coaching if I could get everything organized and make sure I had everything under control for the next term (where I go up to teaching a 75% load). She made it clear that there were a lot of people depending on me... not just her and us as a unit, but my students as well. At first, I was somewhat upset, that she literally told me to get my crap in line before I over-commit myself. She also came out and told me that she thought I blame too much on the fact that I'm absent-minded.
Now, it sounds somewhat harsh. But she has a point. I do everything I can to excuse my failings and my limitations because I hate living with the fact that I'm not good at something. This is part of the reason why I hate skating and avoid swimming... I'd rather stick with things that I'm comfortable doing. This goes for my absent-mindedness and my lack of organization... I've tricked myself into believing that I can't do anything about it, so I just roll with it and refuse to think about the fact that I could probably do something to fix it, or at least limit the effects of it. How to do this? I'm not certain.
I think that a lot of people do this... refuse to acknowledge their limitations and blame a whole world of things on their weaknesses. I'm not innocent. Actually, I'm probably more guilty than most. I know my weaknesses, but I don't confront them or try to do anything to fix them. Part of the reason for this is that I wouldn't know where to start. Another is simply the discomfort of challenging my demons and vanquishing them. I've always loved the story of a hero... however, I don't think I have the courage to be one myself.
I guess I should start listening to the romantic message of Dead Poet's Society...
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying."
- R. Herrick
- T
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
The Absent-Minded Professor
Yep, you guessed it... that's me. Particularly when I haven't been sleeping terribly well.
I had a stack of marking that I was planning to do last night which I THOUGHT I had in one of my school bags. I went to organize my binders and my notes and take out this ugly stack of marking when I realized that it wasn't in either of my bags. I looked in the spare room (a.k.a. my office) and didn't see it. I then got really frustrated and thought that I left it all at school.
I then showed up at school this morning and realized that, WAIT! It wasn't here either! I checked my work station in our staff prep room, and there was nothing. I then checked my classrooms and again... nothing. So I start to freak out. Here I am, pursuing my career and trying to prove to my occupational peers that I'm a reasonably responsible adult who has his crap together and knows how important things like student unit tests should NEVER be lost. Oh, what a facade I'm carrying on! Needless to say, I could feel an influx of stomach acid rising in my gut, so much so that while looking for this big pile of marking, I'm also trying to locate my industrial-sized container of Tums.
Finally after having no luck, I call home. K's my saviour, since she's always the one who receives those frantic 8:15am calls about the fact that I lost something or misplaced something or forgot something. Sure enough, within 15 seconds of calling her and listening to me swearing like a sailor about how much of a dumbass I am, she found the stack sitting (I'm not even lying) right on my office desk. I had taken it home two nights ago and neglected to bring it back yesterday, even though I thought I had everything when I left for school.
Another brief story to reinforce the fact that I'm a little thick (in the head more than the waist) took place in my social class... I told the class about a current events assignment that I wanted them to do when I was in the class last week. This week, I anticipated there would be some questions so I made sure I had a freshly typed-up assignment ready to go for them in case they were a little confused of my explanation last week. So yesterday, before class, I look around for this awesomely fun sheet (it was called The Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown... I was a little proud of it!) to hand out. Could I find it? If you answered yes, you're obviously skimming a little too much of this rant! So, in my haste to get to class on time, I quickly type up a terrible remake of the assignment to hand out. No big deal.
However, as I was organizing my notes/binders last night, what did I come across? You probably guessed it... my Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown sheet. Yes, I'm thick. It was right in the middle of my Current Events section of my teaching binder. I mentioned Jeff Foxworthy a week or two ago. He would've handed me my "Stupid" sign and the crowd would've laughed heartily.
- T
I had a stack of marking that I was planning to do last night which I THOUGHT I had in one of my school bags. I went to organize my binders and my notes and take out this ugly stack of marking when I realized that it wasn't in either of my bags. I looked in the spare room (a.k.a. my office) and didn't see it. I then got really frustrated and thought that I left it all at school.
I then showed up at school this morning and realized that, WAIT! It wasn't here either! I checked my work station in our staff prep room, and there was nothing. I then checked my classrooms and again... nothing. So I start to freak out. Here I am, pursuing my career and trying to prove to my occupational peers that I'm a reasonably responsible adult who has his crap together and knows how important things like student unit tests should NEVER be lost. Oh, what a facade I'm carrying on! Needless to say, I could feel an influx of stomach acid rising in my gut, so much so that while looking for this big pile of marking, I'm also trying to locate my industrial-sized container of Tums.
Finally after having no luck, I call home. K's my saviour, since she's always the one who receives those frantic 8:15am calls about the fact that I lost something or misplaced something or forgot something. Sure enough, within 15 seconds of calling her and listening to me swearing like a sailor about how much of a dumbass I am, she found the stack sitting (I'm not even lying) right on my office desk. I had taken it home two nights ago and neglected to bring it back yesterday, even though I thought I had everything when I left for school.
Another brief story to reinforce the fact that I'm a little thick (in the head more than the waist) took place in my social class... I told the class about a current events assignment that I wanted them to do when I was in the class last week. This week, I anticipated there would be some questions so I made sure I had a freshly typed-up assignment ready to go for them in case they were a little confused of my explanation last week. So yesterday, before class, I look around for this awesomely fun sheet (it was called The Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown... I was a little proud of it!) to hand out. Could I find it? If you answered yes, you're obviously skimming a little too much of this rant! So, in my haste to get to class on time, I quickly type up a terrible remake of the assignment to hand out. No big deal.
However, as I was organizing my notes/binders last night, what did I come across? You probably guessed it... my Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown sheet. Yes, I'm thick. It was right in the middle of my Current Events section of my teaching binder. I mentioned Jeff Foxworthy a week or two ago. He would've handed me my "Stupid" sign and the crowd would've laughed heartily.
- T
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Fatigue, Stress, and anxiety... I love this job...
Did the title come off as sarcastic? It was supposed to be... well, maybe just a bit. Not totally though. Just a touch.
This new life and career pursuit has set off a couple nights of restless partial insomnia, keeping me dreaming about the students in my class having it out for me and the fact that I feel like I'm treading water some days. I feel that everyone else has everything under control and I'm doing this miserable job at times. Even though I know thats not the case (at least, not all the time), it still doesn't prevent the panic-stricken rush of trying to have photocopies together and ready to go and prepared before you enter the fray at 8:59:59a.m. Sure, I'm at the school an hour before the students walk into the classroom, but every minute counts, especially when you're dragging your ass to begin with.
I spent the day marking English exams with other teachers from the district. We did a district-wide, formative test assessment in all of the English classes in the district as a way of guaging where the students were, what needed work, and what teachers could focus on. They were marked collectively by our group as a way of keeping the marks honest and indulging a little bit in the process of what it's like to mark provincial exams at the end of the term.
I thought it was going to be boring, but it was actually somewhat enjoyable. I'm pretty good at just being on my own, so sitting down in a big room with a stack of marking and little stress about the results made for an enjoyable day. My fellow markers were supportive, some of the papers were thoroughly entertaining (one kid said that cell phone waves exploded gas stations, another said they're good to prevent kidnappings, and another said that they were vital in case Brad Pitt was on the side of the road looking for a date!), and we receieved a free lunch. Those of you who know me well know that I'm easy to bribe... just give me free stuff, particularly food. What can I say... I'm a bit of a food floosy.
However, I must end the rant here because I have a boatload of work to go before I'm allowed to let my head hit the pillow. 5:56am comes early when the wife is rolling you out of bed so she can sleep for a few more minutes while I'm in the shower. Yet, this is a wonderful thing... I'm one of those people who had to put the alarm across the room just so I would have to physically get up and out of bed to turn off the blaring hair metal, and even that doesn't prevent a return to the warm sheets that call my name so softly. It's like a hotel wake up call, only better. Minus the bruised hips from the fall off the bed.
- T
This new life and career pursuit has set off a couple nights of restless partial insomnia, keeping me dreaming about the students in my class having it out for me and the fact that I feel like I'm treading water some days. I feel that everyone else has everything under control and I'm doing this miserable job at times. Even though I know thats not the case (at least, not all the time), it still doesn't prevent the panic-stricken rush of trying to have photocopies together and ready to go and prepared before you enter the fray at 8:59:59a.m. Sure, I'm at the school an hour before the students walk into the classroom, but every minute counts, especially when you're dragging your ass to begin with.
I spent the day marking English exams with other teachers from the district. We did a district-wide, formative test assessment in all of the English classes in the district as a way of guaging where the students were, what needed work, and what teachers could focus on. They were marked collectively by our group as a way of keeping the marks honest and indulging a little bit in the process of what it's like to mark provincial exams at the end of the term.
I thought it was going to be boring, but it was actually somewhat enjoyable. I'm pretty good at just being on my own, so sitting down in a big room with a stack of marking and little stress about the results made for an enjoyable day. My fellow markers were supportive, some of the papers were thoroughly entertaining (one kid said that cell phone waves exploded gas stations, another said they're good to prevent kidnappings, and another said that they were vital in case Brad Pitt was on the side of the road looking for a date!), and we receieved a free lunch. Those of you who know me well know that I'm easy to bribe... just give me free stuff, particularly food. What can I say... I'm a bit of a food floosy.
However, I must end the rant here because I have a boatload of work to go before I'm allowed to let my head hit the pillow. 5:56am comes early when the wife is rolling you out of bed so she can sleep for a few more minutes while I'm in the shower. Yet, this is a wonderful thing... I'm one of those people who had to put the alarm across the room just so I would have to physically get up and out of bed to turn off the blaring hair metal, and even that doesn't prevent a return to the warm sheets that call my name so softly. It's like a hotel wake up call, only better. Minus the bruised hips from the fall off the bed.
- T
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Tag... pass it on
Ms. Gough tagged me, so I guess that makes me "it"... temporarily, anyway...
1. One book that changed my life:
Where to begin. I'm one of those people who is highly influenced by words.... powerful words, meaningful words, emotion-inducing-beautiful words, stern words.
I too, was often moved by words at a younger age, more than now, but I still get right into the fiction I read in a big way. I think when I was younger, a few books had major impacts on me. Orwell's 1984 was a big one inspiring my cynical political paranoia stage that I didn't indulge in for long but went through all the same. Umm... Life After God by Douglas Coupland was another one that a good friend turned me onto (after I'd actually read Shampoo Planet by the same author, which has it's own little story that I may tell later). Poisonwood Bible and a book of Kingsolver's essays was pretty important to me as well. How about... um.... oh! C.S. Lewis and Mere Christianity. That was a big one that I still quote to this day... "For the longest way 'round is the shortest way home". He did some pretty good things with words and ideas, even though I don't think his arguments are as irrefutable as he thought. I guess the last one would be "No One Here Gets Out Alive"... the Jim Morrison biography done by his old manager. I didn't ever get into The Doors music, but that was a damn fine book.
2. One book that I've read more than once:
Life After God has been one I've gone through at least a couple of times. I've reread Thomas King's collection of stories, "One Good Story, That One", as well as his non-fiction Massey lecture series collection called "The Truth About Stories", which I'll always love. I can't get his words out of my head when thinking about fiction... "... Just don't say that you haven't heard [the story]... you've heard it now". Some other short stories I can read and reread and not get bored... Orwell's "Shooting an Elephant" or Valgardson's "Identities" and a host of others. And lots of E.A. Poe and Nathanial Hawthorne. Lucky for me, I've taken on a career where I can actually teach these texts to students and hopefully inspire a love for words in them that I've acquired. Oh, and I've definitely read the Pelican Brief (Grisham) a couple of times... I used to be a big fan until I realized that his books are all the same with different court cases and character names. For the most part anyway... :)
3. One book I'd want on a desert island:
Uh... can I ask for two? I'm one of those people who needs balance. I'd say something along the lines of "Poisonwood Bible", paired with something more intensely cynical like "A Brave New World" or some Rushdie. Getting down to one would be tough... maybe even a classic like The Odyssey or The Iliad, since you can spend hours on that stuff and always find something new at a different time of day or a different mood. These classics also have heroism, deceit, mayhem, disasters, love stories, etc. The whole kit'n'kaboodle. Not really sure which part is the kit and which is the kaboodle, but if it involves it all, I'd be happy.
4. One book that made me laugh:
The first one that takes the cake is "Why I Hate Canadians" by Will Ferguson. I've already mentioned my somewhat obsessive love for this man, but I'll state it again. The guy is freakin' hilarious. I can't wait to get a hold of "Bastards and Boneheads" or his anthology of Canadian humour. Another good one is Stephen Leacock's "Sunshine Sketches of a Small Town" or "Literary Lapses".
5. One book that made me cry:
Um... I'm not a big crier in books... movies yes, commercials and TV ads, sometimes... but not usually books. I'd say Kingsolver's books would probably come close (Poisonwood Bible, Prodigal Summer". So would "White Oleander", which I still remember quite well.
6. One book that I wish had been written:
I have to mimic Ms. Gough and say my own. I've always had lofty ambitions of doing some serious writing, even though I'm pretty sure I'm a complete hack in every sense of the word. And I'm definitely not that interesting. It seems like many of the great writers have led tough lives or maintain a lot of existential angst, but other than my not-so-frequent middle-child-syndrome, I think I've lead a pretty uneventful and enjoyable life.
7. One book that I wish had never been written:
I read it all the way through while I was in Europe. Now, I should put up a disclaimer here, because some people have told me that, as an educated person in the area of literature, I should not hate this book. But here it is: "Of Human Bondage" by W.S. Maugham. It darn near killed me while I was on the train, but I'm one of those stubborn people who can't just leave it if it's not enjoyable... I have to get through it. I don't even remember it, but I remember the feeling of sheer and utter relief when I was done. I almost want to go and reread it in hopes of salvaging it from this very list. But for now, it should be burned during a camping trip, so it had the good use of contributing to my golden-brown-marshmellow roasting.
8. One book that I am currently reading:
Well, the grade 10 history text that our school provides... umm.... I'm STILL reading Rushdie's Shalimar the Clown... it's wonderful, but I'm terrible at making time to read. When I'm tired, I watch TV, not dive into dense, intense prose.
9. One book I've been meaning to read:
This would take hours... for starters, Tristam Shandy, which my uncle from Victoria gave me 3 years ago and I still haven't read... Teacher Man by Frank McCourt, Dante and Milton (everything and anything, because it's important), The Satanic Verses (since it's so controversial and another important read), some T.S. Eliot, more Vonnegut, the Qur'an, The Handmaid's Tale, Oryx and Crake... okay, I'll leave the list here... I could go on for decades.
10. Tagging two people to continue this thang:
I'd have to say Miss J.G. and Mr. K.S., since they're my other bloggers in crime.
Tag, you're it!
- T
1. One book that changed my life:
Where to begin. I'm one of those people who is highly influenced by words.... powerful words, meaningful words, emotion-inducing-beautiful words, stern words.
I too, was often moved by words at a younger age, more than now, but I still get right into the fiction I read in a big way. I think when I was younger, a few books had major impacts on me. Orwell's 1984 was a big one inspiring my cynical political paranoia stage that I didn't indulge in for long but went through all the same. Umm... Life After God by Douglas Coupland was another one that a good friend turned me onto (after I'd actually read Shampoo Planet by the same author, which has it's own little story that I may tell later). Poisonwood Bible and a book of Kingsolver's essays was pretty important to me as well. How about... um.... oh! C.S. Lewis and Mere Christianity. That was a big one that I still quote to this day... "For the longest way 'round is the shortest way home". He did some pretty good things with words and ideas, even though I don't think his arguments are as irrefutable as he thought. I guess the last one would be "No One Here Gets Out Alive"... the Jim Morrison biography done by his old manager. I didn't ever get into The Doors music, but that was a damn fine book.
2. One book that I've read more than once:
Life After God has been one I've gone through at least a couple of times. I've reread Thomas King's collection of stories, "One Good Story, That One", as well as his non-fiction Massey lecture series collection called "The Truth About Stories", which I'll always love. I can't get his words out of my head when thinking about fiction... "... Just don't say that you haven't heard [the story]... you've heard it now". Some other short stories I can read and reread and not get bored... Orwell's "Shooting an Elephant" or Valgardson's "Identities" and a host of others. And lots of E.A. Poe and Nathanial Hawthorne. Lucky for me, I've taken on a career where I can actually teach these texts to students and hopefully inspire a love for words in them that I've acquired. Oh, and I've definitely read the Pelican Brief (Grisham) a couple of times... I used to be a big fan until I realized that his books are all the same with different court cases and character names. For the most part anyway... :)
3. One book I'd want on a desert island:
Uh... can I ask for two? I'm one of those people who needs balance. I'd say something along the lines of "Poisonwood Bible", paired with something more intensely cynical like "A Brave New World" or some Rushdie. Getting down to one would be tough... maybe even a classic like The Odyssey or The Iliad, since you can spend hours on that stuff and always find something new at a different time of day or a different mood. These classics also have heroism, deceit, mayhem, disasters, love stories, etc. The whole kit'n'kaboodle. Not really sure which part is the kit and which is the kaboodle, but if it involves it all, I'd be happy.
4. One book that made me laugh:
The first one that takes the cake is "Why I Hate Canadians" by Will Ferguson. I've already mentioned my somewhat obsessive love for this man, but I'll state it again. The guy is freakin' hilarious. I can't wait to get a hold of "Bastards and Boneheads" or his anthology of Canadian humour. Another good one is Stephen Leacock's "Sunshine Sketches of a Small Town" or "Literary Lapses".
5. One book that made me cry:
Um... I'm not a big crier in books... movies yes, commercials and TV ads, sometimes... but not usually books. I'd say Kingsolver's books would probably come close (Poisonwood Bible, Prodigal Summer". So would "White Oleander", which I still remember quite well.
6. One book that I wish had been written:
I have to mimic Ms. Gough and say my own. I've always had lofty ambitions of doing some serious writing, even though I'm pretty sure I'm a complete hack in every sense of the word. And I'm definitely not that interesting. It seems like many of the great writers have led tough lives or maintain a lot of existential angst, but other than my not-so-frequent middle-child-syndrome, I think I've lead a pretty uneventful and enjoyable life.
7. One book that I wish had never been written:
I read it all the way through while I was in Europe. Now, I should put up a disclaimer here, because some people have told me that, as an educated person in the area of literature, I should not hate this book. But here it is: "Of Human Bondage" by W.S. Maugham. It darn near killed me while I was on the train, but I'm one of those stubborn people who can't just leave it if it's not enjoyable... I have to get through it. I don't even remember it, but I remember the feeling of sheer and utter relief when I was done. I almost want to go and reread it in hopes of salvaging it from this very list. But for now, it should be burned during a camping trip, so it had the good use of contributing to my golden-brown-marshmellow roasting.
8. One book that I am currently reading:
Well, the grade 10 history text that our school provides... umm.... I'm STILL reading Rushdie's Shalimar the Clown... it's wonderful, but I'm terrible at making time to read. When I'm tired, I watch TV, not dive into dense, intense prose.
9. One book I've been meaning to read:
This would take hours... for starters, Tristam Shandy, which my uncle from Victoria gave me 3 years ago and I still haven't read... Teacher Man by Frank McCourt, Dante and Milton (everything and anything, because it's important), The Satanic Verses (since it's so controversial and another important read), some T.S. Eliot, more Vonnegut, the Qur'an, The Handmaid's Tale, Oryx and Crake... okay, I'll leave the list here... I could go on for decades.
10. Tagging two people to continue this thang:
I'd have to say Miss J.G. and Mr. K.S., since they're my other bloggers in crime.
Tag, you're it!
- T
Friday, September 29, 2006
Rewards and feelings of failure
I think the rest of my weeks at school are going to be long. Some = REAL long.
I taught in 2 of my classes today for the first time, back to back. I was scrambling at lunch to make sure I had enough information to get through the classes, and my afternoon class was definitely not in the mood to sit and play the "quiet" game. And then this was followed by volleyball after school, so by the time I got to sit down, it was nearly 6:00. And I didn't get a thing done after that, minus the enjoyment of some CSI and brown, hoppy-flavoured soda.
The classes that I'm teaching can be really rewarding. There are a lot of really pleasant, fun kids who seem like they want to be there and are actually putting in some effort. It's not even very exhausting being in front of them. They had an assignment to do some 1940's style radio plays of their own (after reading one in class), and did a really good job on them for the most part. Very rewarding.
Likewise, my volleyball guys are really coming around. They're working harder, their attitudes are better, and it's really nice to see the guys smiling in practice that isn't always easy or fun. Also rewarding.
Sometimes this isn't always the case. Sometimes students will try to talk through you and over you and behind you, which is uber frustrating. Punishments may work, but they may just be brushed off. And sometimes it's a whole bunch rather than one or two.... definitely hard to deal with... I guess this is what they mean when they tell you about the importance of classroom management and how it's one of the toughest things to learn.
There is a whole world of people involved in this process of conversation and education, and it's hard keeping track of who to talk to and what to say and how to deal with all sorts of different people. Parents, sponsor teachers, administration, university advisors, other staff, students, PAC members, etc. It's a steep learning curve for us young'uns, so I guess I just have to stay the course and keep my caffeine at optimum levels.
Between the fact that I was in class all day and didn't have time to eat lunch and had volleyball until late, I was a tired puppy. Should be a fun career! :)
Okay, enough ranting. I'll post something else on the weekend. Ciao all...
- T
I taught in 2 of my classes today for the first time, back to back. I was scrambling at lunch to make sure I had enough information to get through the classes, and my afternoon class was definitely not in the mood to sit and play the "quiet" game. And then this was followed by volleyball after school, so by the time I got to sit down, it was nearly 6:00. And I didn't get a thing done after that, minus the enjoyment of some CSI and brown, hoppy-flavoured soda.
The classes that I'm teaching can be really rewarding. There are a lot of really pleasant, fun kids who seem like they want to be there and are actually putting in some effort. It's not even very exhausting being in front of them. They had an assignment to do some 1940's style radio plays of their own (after reading one in class), and did a really good job on them for the most part. Very rewarding.
Likewise, my volleyball guys are really coming around. They're working harder, their attitudes are better, and it's really nice to see the guys smiling in practice that isn't always easy or fun. Also rewarding.
Sometimes this isn't always the case. Sometimes students will try to talk through you and over you and behind you, which is uber frustrating. Punishments may work, but they may just be brushed off. And sometimes it's a whole bunch rather than one or two.... definitely hard to deal with... I guess this is what they mean when they tell you about the importance of classroom management and how it's one of the toughest things to learn.
There is a whole world of people involved in this process of conversation and education, and it's hard keeping track of who to talk to and what to say and how to deal with all sorts of different people. Parents, sponsor teachers, administration, university advisors, other staff, students, PAC members, etc. It's a steep learning curve for us young'uns, so I guess I just have to stay the course and keep my caffeine at optimum levels.
Between the fact that I was in class all day and didn't have time to eat lunch and had volleyball until late, I was a tired puppy. Should be a fun career! :)
Okay, enough ranting. I'll post something else on the weekend. Ciao all...
- T
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
I think I may be a control freak...
I spend time in practice, and I nearly go bananas. I really don't like to be interrupted, and sometimes, even oftentimes, this happens. Some talk right through explanations, have trouble following directions, and just tend to ignore me at a variety of points. It kinda makes me want to blow my top. So what happens? They run. Laps, lines, suicides, and the like. Then they get another chance. Blow it? They run again. "Can we do jump serves coach?" Not a chance. They do it anyway? They run. "This drill is stupid" they say.... run again. One thing I have to remember: kids are there to have fun while learning. I think I sometimes lose this perspective when I'm struggling to get them to work hard. I don't want to be a tyrant, but I still think that my other coach and I need to maintain our control over everyone.
Classes can go this way too... I've been talking to my own sponsor teachers and other teachers about what to do about this (interruptions and the like), and they all have their own management techniques. It's a little overwhelming, to be honest, trying to figure out who I am and how I can carry this out. But I guess I just have to learn how to control interruptions and distractions and other such things my own way while following school policy. I knew from the beginning that this was going to be how it was... I knew I was going to struggle with classroom management. I just didn't think it would keep me up at night and frustrate me like it sometimes does. I guess I know how my parents felt when I was lazy or disrespectful as a kid. Karma's no fun when it's whoopin' your behind.
I guess you really have to put out small fires before a big one erupts. "If you give them an inch...". I give people chances in every aspect of my life, but I still have a backbone, and I'm not afraid to show it.
- T
Classes can go this way too... I've been talking to my own sponsor teachers and other teachers about what to do about this (interruptions and the like), and they all have their own management techniques. It's a little overwhelming, to be honest, trying to figure out who I am and how I can carry this out. But I guess I just have to learn how to control interruptions and distractions and other such things my own way while following school policy. I knew from the beginning that this was going to be how it was... I knew I was going to struggle with classroom management. I just didn't think it would keep me up at night and frustrate me like it sometimes does. I guess I know how my parents felt when I was lazy or disrespectful as a kid. Karma's no fun when it's whoopin' your behind.
I guess you really have to put out small fires before a big one erupts. "If you give them an inch...". I give people chances in every aspect of my life, but I still have a backbone, and I'm not afraid to show it.
- T
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Rain outside my window...
... tells me that my summer's fading away. And this new place I'm in is getting more and more real every single day.
I'm definitely the type of person who builds certain life events up in my head until they're overwhelming, only to discover that the event in question wasn't as monumental as it seemed. I know I touched on this during the previous post, but I figured that since I run the show around here, I should just keep banging the gong about it continuously.
On a completely different note, one of my sponsor teachers and I have been creating little games in class when we do attendance so we can remember student names a little bit better. We've covered things like "what did you do over the weekend" or, "what is your favorite meal". I'm the first one to admit that it's totally cheesy, but it is definitely helpful when trying to remember the names of 30 Grade 9 kids. The last day we did one on pet peeves. Some of them were a little strange, others were funny, but most were typical. My favorites, though, are always the most random ones. Like feet. Some people (mostly girls, I've found) hate feet... everything about feet. The look, smell, feel, etc. EVERYTHING. And this seems like the strangest thing ever. I dated a girl before K and I were together who hated feet so much that she actually tattooed her foot with little stars and things (small and tasteful, of course) to make them less revolting.
My sponsor teacher's peeve was smelly people. After admitting this, she entered into a long tirade about a triathalon she was participating in and this smelly guy on the bike course with her... just to avoid being behind him, she would speed up every time he tried to pass. I think she scored a personal best because of it. Seems strange that a little BO would push you to accidentally strive for excellence. Sort of makes me wonder if guys like Lance Armstrong had peeves that pushed them on to success.
I try to think about mine and I come up with the standards... bad drivers, line jumpers while waiting for tickets for a concert/show, movie talkers in theatres, and generally stupid people. Now, the last category can include most (if not all) of the previous 4 categories, but can also be applied to a host of other groups. I won't go into detail, but there's definitely no shortage of boneheads around. And a broad, all-encompassing category is necessary to include these goof-offs. Others to enter this category are those who talk about something they know nothing about, buffoons at a restaurant that treat their server like a whipping boy, and stereotypical North American travellers who go abroad and ask people from a non-English-speaking country, "Do ya'll speak English? ENG-LISH? DO YOU SPEAKY ENGLISH??" That really gets my goat, and really takes the cake... idiots thinking that saying it: a) louder b) slower c) with an accent will get them the response they want. I think Jeff Foxworthy would respond to them by handing them a sign that reads "Stupid", while stating, "Here's your sign".
Enough boringness for tonight... still have some stuff to do for class tomorrow, and knowing me, if I don't do it now, I'll be asking for an extension. That's just the way I roll :)
- T
I'm definitely the type of person who builds certain life events up in my head until they're overwhelming, only to discover that the event in question wasn't as monumental as it seemed. I know I touched on this during the previous post, but I figured that since I run the show around here, I should just keep banging the gong about it continuously.
On a completely different note, one of my sponsor teachers and I have been creating little games in class when we do attendance so we can remember student names a little bit better. We've covered things like "what did you do over the weekend" or, "what is your favorite meal". I'm the first one to admit that it's totally cheesy, but it is definitely helpful when trying to remember the names of 30 Grade 9 kids. The last day we did one on pet peeves. Some of them were a little strange, others were funny, but most were typical. My favorites, though, are always the most random ones. Like feet. Some people (mostly girls, I've found) hate feet... everything about feet. The look, smell, feel, etc. EVERYTHING. And this seems like the strangest thing ever. I dated a girl before K and I were together who hated feet so much that she actually tattooed her foot with little stars and things (small and tasteful, of course) to make them less revolting.
My sponsor teacher's peeve was smelly people. After admitting this, she entered into a long tirade about a triathalon she was participating in and this smelly guy on the bike course with her... just to avoid being behind him, she would speed up every time he tried to pass. I think she scored a personal best because of it. Seems strange that a little BO would push you to accidentally strive for excellence. Sort of makes me wonder if guys like Lance Armstrong had peeves that pushed them on to success.
I try to think about mine and I come up with the standards... bad drivers, line jumpers while waiting for tickets for a concert/show, movie talkers in theatres, and generally stupid people. Now, the last category can include most (if not all) of the previous 4 categories, but can also be applied to a host of other groups. I won't go into detail, but there's definitely no shortage of boneheads around. And a broad, all-encompassing category is necessary to include these goof-offs. Others to enter this category are those who talk about something they know nothing about, buffoons at a restaurant that treat their server like a whipping boy, and stereotypical North American travellers who go abroad and ask people from a non-English-speaking country, "Do ya'll speak English? ENG-LISH? DO YOU SPEAKY ENGLISH??" That really gets my goat, and really takes the cake... idiots thinking that saying it: a) louder b) slower c) with an accent will get them the response they want. I think Jeff Foxworthy would respond to them by handing them a sign that reads "Stupid", while stating, "Here's your sign".
Enough boringness for tonight... still have some stuff to do for class tomorrow, and knowing me, if I don't do it now, I'll be asking for an extension. That's just the way I roll :)
- T
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Survival of week #1
It wasn't nearly as monumental as one may assume.
I stepped into my classroom as an actual teacher (or student teacher, anyway) for the first time this week. Over the past weeks and months, I had built it up in my head as something massive to fear and be anxious about. But, it was not nearly as busy/stressful as I thought... "This is the way the [week] ends, not with a bang but a whimper". I'm still unsure as to whether I'm anxious about getting my hands dirty and getting to the activities and making plans and marking papers, or if I should simply be happy that I've got time to relax right now and take my time getting ready for the hellish schedule that is to come.
The week more or less consisted of me getting my bearings at the school. Tuesday started with a staff meeting at 7:30am. I had shown up on the previous Friday to roam around and get some texts from the school... I would have totally missed our staff meeting and newbie orientation if I hadn't asked. I'm glad I emailed the other two interns to let them know the deal. After that, the first couple days were dedicated to getting class schedules sorted out for teachers and students alike, getting coaching assignments handed out, and mainly just getting to know the place and people that I would be hanging around for the next 10 months. It was good... pretty low stress, everyone seemed welcoming and friendly, and there were definitely a couple people who were excited about the fact that I'm taking on the role of co-coach for the Boys Volleyball team.
The main problem I found is this... sitting in a classroom without being in charge of it while someone else is teaching is NOT that much fun. Sure, it takes away the stress of being responsible for everything myself. However, after two days of watching my two sponsor teachers in action, I began to feel like I needed to just take the reigns and start doing my own thing. Unfortunately, that moment doesn't take place until the end of the month, so I guess the next couple weeks will be a test in patience (alongside learning the names of 40-50 staff members and about 70 students/players). They're both great though, so I'm sure I'll survive.
I'm sure that as the students get settled in and we all get used to the fact that summer is on the way out, things will sort themselves out. I'm also hoping that our staff wine tasting will help this along. And realistically, I've got plenty on my plate this week... night class tomorrow, Tuesday night V-ball tryouts, Wednesday night coaching meeting, Thursday retreat (with wine!!), Friday practice, Saturday University class.... the list goes on, so I guess I should just concentrate on getting some sleep and getting ready for what this new world is going to throw at me. C'est la vie.
- T
I stepped into my classroom as an actual teacher (or student teacher, anyway) for the first time this week. Over the past weeks and months, I had built it up in my head as something massive to fear and be anxious about. But, it was not nearly as busy/stressful as I thought... "This is the way the [week] ends, not with a bang but a whimper". I'm still unsure as to whether I'm anxious about getting my hands dirty and getting to the activities and making plans and marking papers, or if I should simply be happy that I've got time to relax right now and take my time getting ready for the hellish schedule that is to come.
The week more or less consisted of me getting my bearings at the school. Tuesday started with a staff meeting at 7:30am. I had shown up on the previous Friday to roam around and get some texts from the school... I would have totally missed our staff meeting and newbie orientation if I hadn't asked. I'm glad I emailed the other two interns to let them know the deal. After that, the first couple days were dedicated to getting class schedules sorted out for teachers and students alike, getting coaching assignments handed out, and mainly just getting to know the place and people that I would be hanging around for the next 10 months. It was good... pretty low stress, everyone seemed welcoming and friendly, and there were definitely a couple people who were excited about the fact that I'm taking on the role of co-coach for the Boys Volleyball team.
The main problem I found is this... sitting in a classroom without being in charge of it while someone else is teaching is NOT that much fun. Sure, it takes away the stress of being responsible for everything myself. However, after two days of watching my two sponsor teachers in action, I began to feel like I needed to just take the reigns and start doing my own thing. Unfortunately, that moment doesn't take place until the end of the month, so I guess the next couple weeks will be a test in patience (alongside learning the names of 40-50 staff members and about 70 students/players). They're both great though, so I'm sure I'll survive.
I'm sure that as the students get settled in and we all get used to the fact that summer is on the way out, things will sort themselves out. I'm also hoping that our staff wine tasting will help this along. And realistically, I've got plenty on my plate this week... night class tomorrow, Tuesday night V-ball tryouts, Wednesday night coaching meeting, Thursday retreat (with wine!!), Friday practice, Saturday University class.... the list goes on, so I guess I should just concentrate on getting some sleep and getting ready for what this new world is going to throw at me. C'est la vie.
- T
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Catharsis
I realized that after my 1/2 hour yelling match with Telus' terrible CS reps, and writing about it on here, I was able to calm down through the process of yelling, writing, and watching mindless TV for 20 minutes. I calmed down a bit, anyway. I finally talked to the manager, and although I'm still getting screwed, it's not nearly as bad as it was before. I got it out of my system though, and it's probably good that it happened before I arrived at school to deal with 15 year olds all day.
Speaking of which, I'm officially a student teacher. I haven't started any of the actual teaching stuff yet, but I've already begun my prep, met a tonne of teachers, been invited to the welcome back socials, figured out when ball tryouts are (I'll be coaching), and claimed the beautiful yellow and brown plaid couch that resides in the humanities department prep room as my own. Although my classes changed completely yet again (this is round number 3), I've got the schedule worked out, at least until February. I'm teaching one English class and one Socials class. Still, it's looking like I'm settling in there tolerably well, and so far I haven't alienated anyone. I guess you actually have to DO something or say something beyond "Yes, I did an English degree on the coast before coming into the program... no, not from B.C.... I'm an Alberta boy... my wife's looking for work right now, and she's really confident about finding something right away... I'm really excited about being at this school" before you alienate anyone.
The house is mostly unpacked, my internet and phone are hooked up, I went for a run yesterday for the first time in weeks, and it's been over 30 degrees all week. I guess I really don't have too much to complain about.
- T
Speaking of which, I'm officially a student teacher. I haven't started any of the actual teaching stuff yet, but I've already begun my prep, met a tonne of teachers, been invited to the welcome back socials, figured out when ball tryouts are (I'll be coaching), and claimed the beautiful yellow and brown plaid couch that resides in the humanities department prep room as my own. Although my classes changed completely yet again (this is round number 3), I've got the schedule worked out, at least until February. I'm teaching one English class and one Socials class. Still, it's looking like I'm settling in there tolerably well, and so far I haven't alienated anyone. I guess you actually have to DO something or say something beyond "Yes, I did an English degree on the coast before coming into the program... no, not from B.C.... I'm an Alberta boy... my wife's looking for work right now, and she's really confident about finding something right away... I'm really excited about being at this school" before you alienate anyone.
The house is mostly unpacked, my internet and phone are hooked up, I went for a run yesterday for the first time in weeks, and it's been over 30 degrees all week. I guess I really don't have too much to complain about.
- T
Saturday, September 02, 2006
ARGHHHH!!! TELUS!!!
Here's a story to help you wrap your head around the fact that THINGS ARE NEVER FREE when it's comes to people trying to snag your business!
I signed up for Telus internet last year because they were offering a free IPod Shuffle if you signed a 2-year contract. Before signing this contract, I mentioned that I was potentially moving the following year to Kelowna and asked if the switch-over would be a problem. They assured me that there would be no problems, so I signed up and got my IPod.
I phoned around last week to get all my bills switched to my new address. Telus included, so we wouldn't lose track of any of them. There were no issues.
So I try to install my setup CD for my telus internet again so it would automatically reset my internet address, and immediately encountered problems. I called the C.S. line and found out from C.S. Person #1 that the Kelowna area had NO available ports for an internet hookup. AFter discussing the problem with #1 (being offered dial-up, which wasn't going to happen), he advised me to find another provider and cancel my account with them if I found one. So I went out to Shaw, got an amazing internet/cable deal for students (ask for it if you're still in Uni!!!), came back to the house and called Telus to tell them that I found other services and that they would have to cancel my contract.
I was then informed that I would be charged $120 for my contract cancellation. So I told them that it was THEIR fault that the contract was being cancelled and that I wasn't paying a fee for THEM defaulting on the contract. They tried to tell me that the actual cancellation fee was $240 and that they were discounting that fee by half because it was their fault, but since they sent me the gift (IPod), I would be charged for that gift and this was standard policy and it didn't matter WHO defaulted on the contract! Needless to say, I started getting a little upset.
After telling the girl that such a policy was absurd and that I wasn't paying it, she tried to tell me that the "gift" was worth $300!!! I came back and told her it was worth $80, and she tried to tell me I'm wrong. I proceeded to call her on it, since you can get a brand new Shuffle for $79! I definitely called her a liar and told her that she had no idea what the hell she was talking about. I then told them I would just send back the IPod because I didn't care that much about it and they could have their bloody gift back. THEN, she told me that they can't take them back because of CRTC regulations! Obviously B.S. She also kept repeating the phrase "We gave you a free gift"... my reply was, "If it's FREE, then I DON'T PAY FOR IT! By making me PAY the $120 fee, I was PAYING FOR IT! And that was unacceptable." So I told her to credit my account another way and she told me that there was no way to do that. I then asked to talk to her Manager and she told me that she had talked to her manager and she said the same thing. I asked again, and suddenly the manager was nowhere to be found. I then told her that I wasn't satisfied and wasn't paying anything and that her manager could call me. She said that she would in 24-48 hours, so I left the house for a bit to cool off. The manager called back and left a message for me to call her long distance (knowing that I had cancelled my long distance and went with another carrier), or that she would call me back Tuesday. She's going to have to call Tuesday, because she's the one picking up any costs for that phone call.
T's not happy, and I do feel bad about yelling at the last C.S. agent I talked to, but two things they should never do to me: lie to me, and try to rip me off. I may get screwed once in a while, but I'll kick up a fuss if I ever figure out someone's trying to do it. THe moral of this story is that nothing's free. DON'T GET SCREWED BY TELUS!!!!
- T
I signed up for Telus internet last year because they were offering a free IPod Shuffle if you signed a 2-year contract. Before signing this contract, I mentioned that I was potentially moving the following year to Kelowna and asked if the switch-over would be a problem. They assured me that there would be no problems, so I signed up and got my IPod.
I phoned around last week to get all my bills switched to my new address. Telus included, so we wouldn't lose track of any of them. There were no issues.
So I try to install my setup CD for my telus internet again so it would automatically reset my internet address, and immediately encountered problems. I called the C.S. line and found out from C.S. Person #1 that the Kelowna area had NO available ports for an internet hookup. AFter discussing the problem with #1 (being offered dial-up, which wasn't going to happen), he advised me to find another provider and cancel my account with them if I found one. So I went out to Shaw, got an amazing internet/cable deal for students (ask for it if you're still in Uni!!!), came back to the house and called Telus to tell them that I found other services and that they would have to cancel my contract.
I was then informed that I would be charged $120 for my contract cancellation. So I told them that it was THEIR fault that the contract was being cancelled and that I wasn't paying a fee for THEM defaulting on the contract. They tried to tell me that the actual cancellation fee was $240 and that they were discounting that fee by half because it was their fault, but since they sent me the gift (IPod), I would be charged for that gift and this was standard policy and it didn't matter WHO defaulted on the contract! Needless to say, I started getting a little upset.
After telling the girl that such a policy was absurd and that I wasn't paying it, she tried to tell me that the "gift" was worth $300!!! I came back and told her it was worth $80, and she tried to tell me I'm wrong. I proceeded to call her on it, since you can get a brand new Shuffle for $79! I definitely called her a liar and told her that she had no idea what the hell she was talking about. I then told them I would just send back the IPod because I didn't care that much about it and they could have their bloody gift back. THEN, she told me that they can't take them back because of CRTC regulations! Obviously B.S. She also kept repeating the phrase "We gave you a free gift"... my reply was, "If it's FREE, then I DON'T PAY FOR IT! By making me PAY the $120 fee, I was PAYING FOR IT! And that was unacceptable." So I told her to credit my account another way and she told me that there was no way to do that. I then asked to talk to her Manager and she told me that she had talked to her manager and she said the same thing. I asked again, and suddenly the manager was nowhere to be found. I then told her that I wasn't satisfied and wasn't paying anything and that her manager could call me. She said that she would in 24-48 hours, so I left the house for a bit to cool off. The manager called back and left a message for me to call her long distance (knowing that I had cancelled my long distance and went with another carrier), or that she would call me back Tuesday. She's going to have to call Tuesday, because she's the one picking up any costs for that phone call.
T's not happy, and I do feel bad about yelling at the last C.S. agent I talked to, but two things they should never do to me: lie to me, and try to rip me off. I may get screwed once in a while, but I'll kick up a fuss if I ever figure out someone's trying to do it. THe moral of this story is that nothing's free. DON'T GET SCREWED BY TELUS!!!!
- T
Goodbye home, hello home
It's the same area code. The same province. Even the apartment layout is pretty similar. But it's a town of strangers. Funny enough, I feel relatively at home here.
Kelowna's a cute little city. Lots to do, beautiful scenery, and a new life that's starting for K and I, a little closer to the cities we used to call home back in Alberta. K's dad came out to help us move and drive the U-Haul over the rain-covered Coquihalla, after we had said goodbye to friends, family, and the beautiful coast that we called home for the past few years. It fit me like a worn in pair of shoes that you don't want to throw away. But maybe these new shoes will be alright after some wear and tear.
K was just napping on the couch with me a few minutes ago, and now she's puttering away in the kitchen getting some dessert ready for later tonight. We took a short drive up to Kalamalka Lake earlier this afternoon, got some fresh fruits and veggies at a small store off the lake, and came back into Kelowna for lunch here at the new apartment that has officially been unpacked and put away. We still need some things, and we haven't had the opportunity to establish our own smells and sounds, but it's coming along. We have more space, the building is somewhat young, and K loves it. She was like a kid again at the lake, where she spent at least a weel nearly every summer of her childhood. Her aunt brought over dinner and some fresh fruit and veggies from their garden to help us get settled in before we had the chance to hit up the grocery store. It's 30 degrees and sunny and the surrounding lakes shine a brilliant green in the afternoon. Our apartment is on a huge park. Maybe things aren't so bad around these parts.
I even had the chance to meet a couple more teachers and touch base with the head volleyball coach that I'll be kinda-sorta working with over the next few months. I have textbooks in hand, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be a great teacher like I'm hoping. I have no doubt that there's a tonne of work ahead, but it's what I've been working toward the past few years. Now I guess it's time to embrace it. And I can already smell the smell of peach crisp browning in the oven. I'll say it again... maybe things aren't so bad around these parts.
- T
Kelowna's a cute little city. Lots to do, beautiful scenery, and a new life that's starting for K and I, a little closer to the cities we used to call home back in Alberta. K's dad came out to help us move and drive the U-Haul over the rain-covered Coquihalla, after we had said goodbye to friends, family, and the beautiful coast that we called home for the past few years. It fit me like a worn in pair of shoes that you don't want to throw away. But maybe these new shoes will be alright after some wear and tear.
K was just napping on the couch with me a few minutes ago, and now she's puttering away in the kitchen getting some dessert ready for later tonight. We took a short drive up to Kalamalka Lake earlier this afternoon, got some fresh fruits and veggies at a small store off the lake, and came back into Kelowna for lunch here at the new apartment that has officially been unpacked and put away. We still need some things, and we haven't had the opportunity to establish our own smells and sounds, but it's coming along. We have more space, the building is somewhat young, and K loves it. She was like a kid again at the lake, where she spent at least a weel nearly every summer of her childhood. Her aunt brought over dinner and some fresh fruit and veggies from their garden to help us get settled in before we had the chance to hit up the grocery store. It's 30 degrees and sunny and the surrounding lakes shine a brilliant green in the afternoon. Our apartment is on a huge park. Maybe things aren't so bad around these parts.
I even had the chance to meet a couple more teachers and touch base with the head volleyball coach that I'll be kinda-sorta working with over the next few months. I have textbooks in hand, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be a great teacher like I'm hoping. I have no doubt that there's a tonne of work ahead, but it's what I've been working toward the past few years. Now I guess it's time to embrace it. And I can already smell the smell of peach crisp browning in the oven. I'll say it again... maybe things aren't so bad around these parts.
- T
Friday, August 25, 2006
Pub Crawling through the ghetto
I guess I forgot all about the Education Celebration Pub Crawl that took place this past Monday!!! I organized the event as a way of having a gong-show oriented send-off for all the Ed students who are scattering to various schools around BC for their practicums (myself included, of course). So the plan was to meet up at a pub near the Gorge Vale Golf club, then to head back down the Gorge toward downtown. We dressed up in white t-shirts that were gradually decorated with Sharpie pens with various levels of stupid written all over. I also rolled up my jeans to show off my sweet Canada socks that K bought for me for my b-day. There were drink specials at every stop, and when you have a group of about 25 semi-hammed University students walking down the road on a bit of an adventure, you're always going to have a good time.
About 8 of us met at the bus depot at the Uni to travel together, and met up with another 8 or 10 at the pub. After spending about half an hour there, we moved on to Stop #2, also known as my former workplace, and had a shooter or two and a beer or two before heading on to Stop #3. Stop #3 was the sketchiest place on the tour and the main competition for my former workplace. We ran into a couple of regulars from Fats who bought me a beer, and I gave the waitress shit for bailing on her shift last weekend when I was working and stranded without a waitress. I think she also bought me a drink, which made the forgetting of the incident a little easier. Stop #4 was a little more strange... strange because there were already a couple of people inside, but the door was locked when we showed up. Since we weren't in the mood to stand around and Stop #5 was waiting patiently for us up the road (and there was as a Timmy Ho's right in front of us!), we kept on truckin' and left the people who actually got IN to Stop #4 behind.
After a quick doughnut (I don't even know who bought it for me!), we arrived at #5 (which I also worked at previously) and got some more drinks. It was definitely quiet there, so after learning that one of our fellow education students was playing in a Police Cover Band downtown, off we went. I think there may have been another bus involved to get there, and we arrived in time to see Sam play. I'm not going to lie... I'm not a huge Police fan, but he did a pretty good job and their singer was pretty much a bang-on imitation.
Sam finished his set, and we decided to make one more stop. We were planning on heading to a place called Lucky Bar for 90's night, but with a lineup out to the street, we changed plans and went to a 19 year old hoochie hangout called the Boom Boom Room. It reminded me of my younger days in Lethbridge, going to a basement club there called Nexus. It wasn't much different than back home, which was kinda fun but kinda weird at the same time. I don't go out much any more, so it was fun to relive those more stupid times :)
Then I met Darth Vader. Downtown. At the "ghetto slice" 99 cent pizza joint. He tried to talk to me, but I don't speak Vader-ese, so I just sat there with a dumb grin on my face, laughing and asking him how his night was. It was pretty sweet. And just before we were going to start walking home, we found a guy from class who had been driving around for an hour trying to find us, and he gave a car-load of us a ride home.
I hit my bed after some water and some multi-vitamins and an advil, and slept like the dead until the next morning. K decided to stay at her friend's place since she didn't really want to come out and be stupid with us, which was okay. Sean stayed over and had a nap on the futon so he didn't have to drive back out to Colwood. I was a little headachey the next day, but I'm here to tell the story. It was definitely a good time.
About 8 of us met at the bus depot at the Uni to travel together, and met up with another 8 or 10 at the pub. After spending about half an hour there, we moved on to Stop #2, also known as my former workplace, and had a shooter or two and a beer or two before heading on to Stop #3. Stop #3 was the sketchiest place on the tour and the main competition for my former workplace. We ran into a couple of regulars from Fats who bought me a beer, and I gave the waitress shit for bailing on her shift last weekend when I was working and stranded without a waitress. I think she also bought me a drink, which made the forgetting of the incident a little easier. Stop #4 was a little more strange... strange because there were already a couple of people inside, but the door was locked when we showed up. Since we weren't in the mood to stand around and Stop #5 was waiting patiently for us up the road (and there was as a Timmy Ho's right in front of us!), we kept on truckin' and left the people who actually got IN to Stop #4 behind.
After a quick doughnut (I don't even know who bought it for me!), we arrived at #5 (which I also worked at previously) and got some more drinks. It was definitely quiet there, so after learning that one of our fellow education students was playing in a Police Cover Band downtown, off we went. I think there may have been another bus involved to get there, and we arrived in time to see Sam play. I'm not going to lie... I'm not a huge Police fan, but he did a pretty good job and their singer was pretty much a bang-on imitation.
Sam finished his set, and we decided to make one more stop. We were planning on heading to a place called Lucky Bar for 90's night, but with a lineup out to the street, we changed plans and went to a 19 year old hoochie hangout called the Boom Boom Room. It reminded me of my younger days in Lethbridge, going to a basement club there called Nexus. It wasn't much different than back home, which was kinda fun but kinda weird at the same time. I don't go out much any more, so it was fun to relive those more stupid times :)
Then I met Darth Vader. Downtown. At the "ghetto slice" 99 cent pizza joint. He tried to talk to me, but I don't speak Vader-ese, so I just sat there with a dumb grin on my face, laughing and asking him how his night was. It was pretty sweet. And just before we were going to start walking home, we found a guy from class who had been driving around for an hour trying to find us, and he gave a car-load of us a ride home.
I hit my bed after some water and some multi-vitamins and an advil, and slept like the dead until the next morning. K decided to stay at her friend's place since she didn't really want to come out and be stupid with us, which was okay. Sean stayed over and had a nap on the futon so he didn't have to drive back out to Colwood. I was a little headachey the next day, but I'm here to tell the story. It was definitely a good time.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
How do you define yourself...
Is it through your location? Your job? What you do in your spare time? Who you love? What you hate?
Do you ever leave a place and wonder who you're going to be when you get to the new location? I've been wondering that over the past few days and weeks. Who am I going to be without Victoria as my backdrop? Or without the University taking up the vast majority of my time? Without being able to tell people I live "on the island"?
I think that, to a certain extent, I define myself by my surroundings. It's also as if I define myself by the people around me. Who am I without K by my side? Or without Sean to spend time with at school? Or without Sarah to keep me in check in class? Or without all those people in my life who make me smile and make me sad and have made me who I am. I wonder...
I know that a great amount of this is related to the fact that I've made a home here in Vic. And the fact that I'm leaving it for another city that I don't really know is just a little bit overwhelming. I know I'm moving on to another stage in my life.... a career and something resembling adulthood, but it's still unnerving. I'm feeling as though I found a huge part of myself out here on the coast, and now that I'm leaving, I'm not totally sure that I can just transplant that to another geographical position. Maybe it's fear... or insecurity... or just the simple fact that I really love this city. But it's uncomfortable all the same. The pictures in my apartment have been packed into boxes. So have my books. Hell, so have my shoes. And many memories. I'm leaving in 6 days and I'm not sure if I'm ready for it. It might even be apprehension about teaching... I don't have the slightest clue if I'm ready for it. This is an important career, and I think a certain amount of bravery is needed for it. Do I have it? I guess I have no choice now...
I hope students aren't like dogs and being able to smell the fear on me... if they are, I think I'm going to be in big trouble.
Maybe it's just the clouds outside my window...
- T
Do you ever leave a place and wonder who you're going to be when you get to the new location? I've been wondering that over the past few days and weeks. Who am I going to be without Victoria as my backdrop? Or without the University taking up the vast majority of my time? Without being able to tell people I live "on the island"?
I think that, to a certain extent, I define myself by my surroundings. It's also as if I define myself by the people around me. Who am I without K by my side? Or without Sean to spend time with at school? Or without Sarah to keep me in check in class? Or without all those people in my life who make me smile and make me sad and have made me who I am. I wonder...
I know that a great amount of this is related to the fact that I've made a home here in Vic. And the fact that I'm leaving it for another city that I don't really know is just a little bit overwhelming. I know I'm moving on to another stage in my life.... a career and something resembling adulthood, but it's still unnerving. I'm feeling as though I found a huge part of myself out here on the coast, and now that I'm leaving, I'm not totally sure that I can just transplant that to another geographical position. Maybe it's fear... or insecurity... or just the simple fact that I really love this city. But it's uncomfortable all the same. The pictures in my apartment have been packed into boxes. So have my books. Hell, so have my shoes. And many memories. I'm leaving in 6 days and I'm not sure if I'm ready for it. It might even be apprehension about teaching... I don't have the slightest clue if I'm ready for it. This is an important career, and I think a certain amount of bravery is needed for it. Do I have it? I guess I have no choice now...
I hope students aren't like dogs and being able to smell the fear on me... if they are, I think I'm going to be in big trouble.
Maybe it's just the clouds outside my window...
- T
Saturday, August 19, 2006
The end of summer school is near (random tidbits of this and that)
I only have about 2 hours of class left before I'm officially done classes at school here in Victoria. I'm still in the education program, so I don't officially get certified as a teacher and graduate with my diploma until next April or May, but I only have a couple hours of class time left before I leave the school permanently.
This summer's been a bit crazy. Between finishing my undergrad classes in April, moving to Calgary for the month of May, doing 3 months of summer school, and preparing to move my life back to the mainland, it's been a little overwhelming. I've also had the pleasure of having numerous visitors over the past couple months, and K and I have even been able to escape for a day or two here and there... not to mention working every weekend at the pub. Needless to say, I haven't had a massive amount of free time. This is starting to sound like a pity party, so I'll move on.
I was thinking the other day about one of the interesting (or wholly boring and nerdish) experiences of my teen days. I used to spend a lot of time arguing religion at an online "bulletin board", as a way of working through my own personal faith. It was a strange time, as I was at the height of my argumentative stage with my parents and I did my best to get into fights with them about the most trivial of things. But as I spent more time on the BB arguing faith and working out the major problems I saw with modern traditions in the Christian church, I came across some ideas that always made me smile. One was the Biblical story of Jacob, who was renamed "Israel", which was supposed to mean "He who wrestled with angels" after he caught a messenger angel and refused to let him leave before Jacob was blessed... they wrestled all night and finally the angel blessed him and he was renamed Israel (Gen 32.9). For a while on the board, I referred to myself as a sort of child of Jacob, and I saw my religious conflict in these terms. Later on, I encountered a man who signed off every post with a passage from Proverbs... 25:2 to be exact. Although the wording changes from translation to translation, the gist of the passage is as follows: "It is the will of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of Kings to search out an issue". I've always loved this passage, as it seems to be representative of my relatively constant questioning of faith and religion.
Enough about these random musings... I'll leave a quote from R.W. Emerson before I go, since he's just Mr. Quotable...
"There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernal of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till"
- Emerson, Essay on "Self-Reliance"
In all his convoluted wisdom, he was a bit of a self-assured optimist. I guess we can all take the advice that, at the end of the day, it's simply up to us.
- T
This summer's been a bit crazy. Between finishing my undergrad classes in April, moving to Calgary for the month of May, doing 3 months of summer school, and preparing to move my life back to the mainland, it's been a little overwhelming. I've also had the pleasure of having numerous visitors over the past couple months, and K and I have even been able to escape for a day or two here and there... not to mention working every weekend at the pub. Needless to say, I haven't had a massive amount of free time. This is starting to sound like a pity party, so I'll move on.
I was thinking the other day about one of the interesting (or wholly boring and nerdish) experiences of my teen days. I used to spend a lot of time arguing religion at an online "bulletin board", as a way of working through my own personal faith. It was a strange time, as I was at the height of my argumentative stage with my parents and I did my best to get into fights with them about the most trivial of things. But as I spent more time on the BB arguing faith and working out the major problems I saw with modern traditions in the Christian church, I came across some ideas that always made me smile. One was the Biblical story of Jacob, who was renamed "Israel", which was supposed to mean "He who wrestled with angels" after he caught a messenger angel and refused to let him leave before Jacob was blessed... they wrestled all night and finally the angel blessed him and he was renamed Israel (Gen 32.9). For a while on the board, I referred to myself as a sort of child of Jacob, and I saw my religious conflict in these terms. Later on, I encountered a man who signed off every post with a passage from Proverbs... 25:2 to be exact. Although the wording changes from translation to translation, the gist of the passage is as follows: "It is the will of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of Kings to search out an issue". I've always loved this passage, as it seems to be representative of my relatively constant questioning of faith and religion.
Enough about these random musings... I'll leave a quote from R.W. Emerson before I go, since he's just Mr. Quotable...
"There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernal of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till"
- Emerson, Essay on "Self-Reliance"
In all his convoluted wisdom, he was a bit of a self-assured optimist. I guess we can all take the advice that, at the end of the day, it's simply up to us.
- T
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
The meeting of deities
My job brings in a host of strange characters. Some are simply lost souls looking to drown their sorrows in a pint of lager... others are looking for just a little conversation - a touch of human contact that they may or may not be able to obtain in their day to day lives... Others simply want a casual spot to slam some shooters and chug some beer and make complete fools out of themselves... still others are simply indulging in a fun social outing. This last group is usually the easiest to serve and most enjoyable to deal with.
However, there is a whole different place for some of the other characters that come in.
So, a guy walks into the pub. I'm somewhat bored, talking baseball with one of the regulars at the bar. The guy walking in the front door has no shoes, a pair of shorts that seems to be missing the pockets, and looks like he might want to use our washroom and take off. I greet him at the door, keeping in mind the standard "No shirt, no shoes, no service" as I laugh at the fact that such a saying could possibly be true.
"How are we doing tonight?" I politely ask. He smiles and walks over.
"I'm great!" he tells me, shaking my hand. "My name's Jimmy. I just moved into the O.I. down the block."
"Nice to meet you Jimmy. It looks like you lost your shoes!"
"I know! Crazy stuff! I went to the beach and had a swim. I left my credit card and car keys and my shoes all laying on a rock while I went in. When I got back, they had disappeared! I can't even get into my car right now!"
"That's not good! Someone must've walked by and lifted them while you were in the water." I suggest.
"But there was nobody around! I was watching the beach the whole time and I didn't see a single person. It must have been a spirit that came by... took them away!" he replies.
"Uhh... huh. Weird" is all I could squeak out.
"Yep. Must'a been a god. Well I'm a god too, so it makes sense!"
Blank stare with a confused grin, from yours truly.
"Yeah," he continues, pulling out a small medallion on a leather rope around his neck, "I'm a reincarnation of Rameses III, so I'm a god too!" he explains.
Again, this is followed with a blank stare.
Then, another dishevelled individual walks through the door, also looking like he wants to use the washroom which is for paying customers only.
"Hey, I know you!" Rameses III reincarnated says to new dishevelled guy. "What's up? Where are you living these days??" he asks his friend.
"All over man... here and there" is his reply. This is never a good thing to overhear when you work in a suspiciously dodgy area of town and your boss states that you must turn away any non-customers from trying to use the bathroom.
"Can I help you?" I interrupt.
"Nope, I'm good, man. Just using the washroom."
"Actually sir, the washroom is for customers only, so I have to ask you to go somewhere else."
"Oh. Well I'm having a beer when I get out" he replies.
I can be kinda thick sometimes, but this is obviously just BS. "Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't let you use the facilities."
Disappointed, he continues to talk to Rameses III. Rameses says to him, "Just come over and stay with me! I got some booze at the house and some tunes going on. Interested?"
"Yeah, man. That sounds great!" he replies happily as they head for the door.
"Hey bartender! This guy is a god too!" Ramses III yells as he's walking out the door.
"Congrats!" I reply. "You two have a great night."
They leave, sketchy guy and his deity friend Rameses III/Jimmy arm in arm, like a absurdly strange story of kinship reunited.
I guess it can be true... fact is stranger than fiction. Particularly on the Gorge.
- T
However, there is a whole different place for some of the other characters that come in.
So, a guy walks into the pub. I'm somewhat bored, talking baseball with one of the regulars at the bar. The guy walking in the front door has no shoes, a pair of shorts that seems to be missing the pockets, and looks like he might want to use our washroom and take off. I greet him at the door, keeping in mind the standard "No shirt, no shoes, no service" as I laugh at the fact that such a saying could possibly be true.
"How are we doing tonight?" I politely ask. He smiles and walks over.
"I'm great!" he tells me, shaking my hand. "My name's Jimmy. I just moved into the O.I. down the block."
"Nice to meet you Jimmy. It looks like you lost your shoes!"
"I know! Crazy stuff! I went to the beach and had a swim. I left my credit card and car keys and my shoes all laying on a rock while I went in. When I got back, they had disappeared! I can't even get into my car right now!"
"That's not good! Someone must've walked by and lifted them while you were in the water." I suggest.
"But there was nobody around! I was watching the beach the whole time and I didn't see a single person. It must have been a spirit that came by... took them away!" he replies.
"Uhh... huh. Weird" is all I could squeak out.
"Yep. Must'a been a god. Well I'm a god too, so it makes sense!"
Blank stare with a confused grin, from yours truly.
"Yeah," he continues, pulling out a small medallion on a leather rope around his neck, "I'm a reincarnation of Rameses III, so I'm a god too!" he explains.
Again, this is followed with a blank stare.
Then, another dishevelled individual walks through the door, also looking like he wants to use the washroom which is for paying customers only.
"Hey, I know you!" Rameses III reincarnated says to new dishevelled guy. "What's up? Where are you living these days??" he asks his friend.
"All over man... here and there" is his reply. This is never a good thing to overhear when you work in a suspiciously dodgy area of town and your boss states that you must turn away any non-customers from trying to use the bathroom.
"Can I help you?" I interrupt.
"Nope, I'm good, man. Just using the washroom."
"Actually sir, the washroom is for customers only, so I have to ask you to go somewhere else."
"Oh. Well I'm having a beer when I get out" he replies.
I can be kinda thick sometimes, but this is obviously just BS. "Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't let you use the facilities."
Disappointed, he continues to talk to Rameses III. Rameses says to him, "Just come over and stay with me! I got some booze at the house and some tunes going on. Interested?"
"Yeah, man. That sounds great!" he replies happily as they head for the door.
"Hey bartender! This guy is a god too!" Ramses III yells as he's walking out the door.
"Congrats!" I reply. "You two have a great night."
They leave, sketchy guy and his deity friend Rameses III/Jimmy arm in arm, like a absurdly strange story of kinship reunited.
I guess it can be true... fact is stranger than fiction. Particularly on the Gorge.
- T
Friday, August 11, 2006
Texts of old
For one of my education classes, we were required to compare two texts, one that was published before 1950, and another contemporary text for our subject areas. I chose a Canadian History text from 1946. Although there were the obvious differences of content and perspective, I found some interesting differences in writing styles. One section in particular made me laugh out loud, which I felt like I had to share... the text is called The Romance of Canada and was utilized in Canadian History classes 5-6 decades ago...
"The United States was growing like a young giant, striding across the continent. If the lost coloies could thus become a great nation, why could not the remaining colonies unite and build another? If they did not seek strength in union, could they avoid, in the end, being drawn under the expanding Stars and Stripes?"
Young giant striding across the continent?? That's just too good for words.
Another aside... one thing that people use as evidence that Canadians want to be American: a massive portion of the Canadian population lives within 150kms of the U.S. border. However, as Will Ferguson (author of Why I Hate Canadians, How To Be A Canadian, and Beauty Tips From Moose Jaw) would say, it was the combined threat of frostbite and manifest destiny that forced Canadians to reside within a small distance of the border. For any of you interested in looking at a hilarious tale of modern Canadian history and identity formation, look at Ferguson's books. He also wrote Canadian History For Dummies. Good material people... good material!
- T
"The United States was growing like a young giant, striding across the continent. If the lost coloies could thus become a great nation, why could not the remaining colonies unite and build another? If they did not seek strength in union, could they avoid, in the end, being drawn under the expanding Stars and Stripes?"
Young giant striding across the continent?? That's just too good for words.
Another aside... one thing that people use as evidence that Canadians want to be American: a massive portion of the Canadian population lives within 150kms of the U.S. border. However, as Will Ferguson (author of Why I Hate Canadians, How To Be A Canadian, and Beauty Tips From Moose Jaw) would say, it was the combined threat of frostbite and manifest destiny that forced Canadians to reside within a small distance of the border. For any of you interested in looking at a hilarious tale of modern Canadian history and identity formation, look at Ferguson's books. He also wrote Canadian History For Dummies. Good material people... good material!
- T
Saturday, August 05, 2006
The soon to be long drawn out goodbye
I'm just staring out the window of my apartment, a butterfly perched quietly on the flowers of the strawberry plant that is sitting on the weathered wood of my deck railing, as John Mayer's "Covered in Rain" is playing softly in the background of this momentary step away from reality.
I'm leaving in less than four weeks.
I've been in Victoria for three years now and have made myself a home among arbutus trees and magnolias and the pink of cherry blossoms that wake in the early days of spring. I've become exceedingly attached to the smell of salt in the air as I await the arrival of the morning bus on my way up to the University. I think about my trips down to the water to take in the ocean view. Watching the waves crash over my car as K and I listen to the sound of each other's breathing as the wind storm of the year passes through town, tearing away the soft sand from the beach and leaving behind the victims of it's fury... kelp and driftwood and maybe a bottle flung from a far away island.
I guess I always get just a little sentimental when I have to say goodbye to a place I've grown to love. To be honest, I was sad when I left Alberta three years ago, knowing that the huge piece of sky that hung over my head as a child will always be important to me. I make jokes about being from Alberta, mainly in good fun. But I always wonder if the people that have never seen the prairies could ever experience the sunsets and thunder storms and northern lights that I've been lucky enough to see.
The thought of saying goodbye has been making me nostalgic for experiences gone by. I still recall some moments with friends that make me smile.... J and I, in our first year of university, had spent the night talking and wondering just how we would be able to change the world. As I left her place that night, I walked outside and saw a sky filled with an electric lights show that only nature could provide. I called her from the nearby payphone and she met me to see the lights as well. Another moment was a camping trip in Waterton with a group of high school friends, where we laid down in the middle of an open space at the foot of the Rockies and simply watched the satellites passing overhead. Or watching the hawks fly over us as my family took our regular trip up to Calgary to visit my grandparents, racing down the highway watching the flat, golden world pass by. Or walking the streets of south Lethbridge with K late at night, in the early stages of our relationship, just enjoying the smell of oak trees. Or driving out to Beaver Mines for a camping trip and sitting by the fire just letting the sun go down over the mountains that surrounded us. Or fishing with my dad at that same lake, catching the only trout of the day when I was a kid and remembering that things couldn't really get much better.
For me, it's always the quiet moments that are worth remembering.
I see friends and family that I haven't seen in a long time, and wish that I could just take all of them from the various places they are... Lethbridge, Calgary, Edmonton, Victoria, Macoun... and transplant them to wherever I am. Obviously it's unrealistic, but I still think that the reasons for missing a place has little to do with the place, but has more to do with the people that shared that place with you. As I get older, I wonder what kind of footprints I'm going to leave behind in the places I've been. Will the tide will come in and wash my footprints away? The beach has a short memory.
On a separate note, that is definitely worth mentioning: My friend Meaghan is getting married today to her long-time beau Jared. Although I don't think she reads this page (or even knows about it), I'm wishing her all the best and thinking about her. I wish I could be there to share in it.
"I remember you... do you remember me too?"
- Stereo Fuse
Does anyone else feel that sometimes there's a soundtrack playing for certain moments in your life? I know that it feels like there's one playing for me...
- T
I'm leaving in less than four weeks.
I've been in Victoria for three years now and have made myself a home among arbutus trees and magnolias and the pink of cherry blossoms that wake in the early days of spring. I've become exceedingly attached to the smell of salt in the air as I await the arrival of the morning bus on my way up to the University. I think about my trips down to the water to take in the ocean view. Watching the waves crash over my car as K and I listen to the sound of each other's breathing as the wind storm of the year passes through town, tearing away the soft sand from the beach and leaving behind the victims of it's fury... kelp and driftwood and maybe a bottle flung from a far away island.
I guess I always get just a little sentimental when I have to say goodbye to a place I've grown to love. To be honest, I was sad when I left Alberta three years ago, knowing that the huge piece of sky that hung over my head as a child will always be important to me. I make jokes about being from Alberta, mainly in good fun. But I always wonder if the people that have never seen the prairies could ever experience the sunsets and thunder storms and northern lights that I've been lucky enough to see.
The thought of saying goodbye has been making me nostalgic for experiences gone by. I still recall some moments with friends that make me smile.... J and I, in our first year of university, had spent the night talking and wondering just how we would be able to change the world. As I left her place that night, I walked outside and saw a sky filled with an electric lights show that only nature could provide. I called her from the nearby payphone and she met me to see the lights as well. Another moment was a camping trip in Waterton with a group of high school friends, where we laid down in the middle of an open space at the foot of the Rockies and simply watched the satellites passing overhead. Or watching the hawks fly over us as my family took our regular trip up to Calgary to visit my grandparents, racing down the highway watching the flat, golden world pass by. Or walking the streets of south Lethbridge with K late at night, in the early stages of our relationship, just enjoying the smell of oak trees. Or driving out to Beaver Mines for a camping trip and sitting by the fire just letting the sun go down over the mountains that surrounded us. Or fishing with my dad at that same lake, catching the only trout of the day when I was a kid and remembering that things couldn't really get much better.
For me, it's always the quiet moments that are worth remembering.
I see friends and family that I haven't seen in a long time, and wish that I could just take all of them from the various places they are... Lethbridge, Calgary, Edmonton, Victoria, Macoun... and transplant them to wherever I am. Obviously it's unrealistic, but I still think that the reasons for missing a place has little to do with the place, but has more to do with the people that shared that place with you. As I get older, I wonder what kind of footprints I'm going to leave behind in the places I've been. Will the tide will come in and wash my footprints away? The beach has a short memory.
On a separate note, that is definitely worth mentioning: My friend Meaghan is getting married today to her long-time beau Jared. Although I don't think she reads this page (or even knows about it), I'm wishing her all the best and thinking about her. I wish I could be there to share in it.
"I remember you... do you remember me too?"
- Stereo Fuse
Does anyone else feel that sometimes there's a soundtrack playing for certain moments in your life? I know that it feels like there's one playing for me...
- T
Friday, August 04, 2006
Sometimes you start to lose hope in the media
Okay, I guess it may be more than sometimes. And quite possibly, there's little hope to be had. But the more I watch certain events in the mass media, the more cynical I get about the state of the press. This may even be a specific bias toward American media outlets (and maybe even one in particular), but it's truly frustrating to see how blatantly ridiculous the "serious" and "hard-hitting" political TV shows can be.
Now, I'm sure that I've posted this link before, but it's appalling how arrogant certain media personalities can be, and every time I think about this interview on Canada, featuring Tucker Carlson and Ann Coulter on CNN, I nearly blow my top. Take a look for yourself...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=bFQs9sVvujE
This second set of clips are a little more recent, and NEED TO BE VIEWED! John Stewart was invited on to Crossfire (CNN) to talk politics, and what ended up happening was the most ridiculous attempt at spin justification that I'm aware of (of events within the border anyway... we're ignoring the censorship and spin justification that takes place when speaking of international politics). Again, Tucker Carlson makes me want to flip out. Please watch the clips... It's important.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=b0vYQDFAiy0&mode=related&search=
http://youtube.com/watch?v=q3WJGrqvqPM
This is his response on The Daily Show the following Monday.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6cVpOADoLg&NR
I know these appearences took place nearly 2 years ago, but I don't know many people who have actually seen these clips. So enjoy, respond, start watching John Stewart, anything.
- T
Now, I'm sure that I've posted this link before, but it's appalling how arrogant certain media personalities can be, and every time I think about this interview on Canada, featuring Tucker Carlson and Ann Coulter on CNN, I nearly blow my top. Take a look for yourself...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=bFQs9sVvujE
This second set of clips are a little more recent, and NEED TO BE VIEWED! John Stewart was invited on to Crossfire (CNN) to talk politics, and what ended up happening was the most ridiculous attempt at spin justification that I'm aware of (of events within the border anyway... we're ignoring the censorship and spin justification that takes place when speaking of international politics). Again, Tucker Carlson makes me want to flip out. Please watch the clips... It's important.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=b0vYQDFAiy0&mode=related&search=
http://youtube.com/watch?v=q3WJGrqvqPM
This is his response on The Daily Show the following Monday.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6cVpOADoLg&NR
I know these appearences took place nearly 2 years ago, but I don't know many people who have actually seen these clips. So enjoy, respond, start watching John Stewart, anything.
- T
Friday, July 28, 2006
Congratulations K!!
Well, I don't think he even follows my rants here, but I just want to send out a big congrats to one of my best buddies on the planet, Kelso... K had a baby out in Saskatchewan last night. We met first year back at the U of L and we were both in eachother's wedding parties in the past 2 years... It's the first of my friends to have a bouncing baby (and a girl, for that matter), so all the best to him. I'm patiently awaiting some of the first pictures which he tried (and failed!) to send through email. For anyone here that knows K, I'll send along greetings for you. Hell, even if you don't know him, send him some love! Until again...
- T
- T
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
I'm still alive... and tired
I guess it's been almost 2 weeks since I've put up a post. Part of the reason for this is the fact that I didn't have too much pressing to share (not that I do now, but I was going through some blog withdrawal). The other reason is that school has been tremendously busy. But, the recent "semester" came to a close today and I can get away with being a bump on a log for a night without having the guilt of ignoring homework over my head. However, anyone that knows me understands that I'm pretty good at ignoring the guilt and procrastinating. I've got a disease... it's called procrastinosis. And it's highly contagious, so if you have stuff to do, maybe it's better that you ignore me.
School's been a little insane, and I've really been struggling with the fact that I am quite possibly the worst time-organizer on the planet. Or, at least on the block surrounding Oak Bay junction. I had to hand in 2 unit plans, a short 1000 word paper, and 7 journal entries, as well as give a short 10 minute "mini-lesson" for my English methods class, all in the past 3 days. Rather than working ahead and getting things done ahead of schedule, I sit on my rump and wait until the last possible second to start a project. I think the most frustrating part of this is the fact that I don't even realize I'm doing it... I just wake up the day before a project and realize that, hey! I've got to hand in a 25-30 page unit plan the next day and I don't have much of anything done for it! Something has to change sometime. Maybe I can get subsidized and be able to hire a personal organizer named Ted to follow me around and get me to do work in advance rather than at 4:45 a.m. (which is what time I went to bed on Monday night).
Okay, enough of the pity party. I'm going to post a few things that, lately, have really made my day. The first is from one of my best friends from out in Saskatchewan... he sent me an email the other day with a translation site that allows you to see your name in Russia. Check it out...
http://www.callme.nm.ru/
The second one was posted on R's site as well as J's site. It's a "youtube" link featuring a clip from the John Stewart Show. It shows Ted Stevens, a somewhat infamous buffoon and Senator from Alaska who is describing "internets", or "tubes". It's pretty wonderful...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iMDRVzMfEM&search=ted%20stevens%20internets
J posted another link that showed the wonderful powers of dropping Mentos mints into Diet Coke... also wonderful...
http://www.eepybird.com/dcm1.html
Enjoy, and I'll be back again soon...
- T
School's been a little insane, and I've really been struggling with the fact that I am quite possibly the worst time-organizer on the planet. Or, at least on the block surrounding Oak Bay junction. I had to hand in 2 unit plans, a short 1000 word paper, and 7 journal entries, as well as give a short 10 minute "mini-lesson" for my English methods class, all in the past 3 days. Rather than working ahead and getting things done ahead of schedule, I sit on my rump and wait until the last possible second to start a project. I think the most frustrating part of this is the fact that I don't even realize I'm doing it... I just wake up the day before a project and realize that, hey! I've got to hand in a 25-30 page unit plan the next day and I don't have much of anything done for it! Something has to change sometime. Maybe I can get subsidized and be able to hire a personal organizer named Ted to follow me around and get me to do work in advance rather than at 4:45 a.m. (which is what time I went to bed on Monday night).
Okay, enough of the pity party. I'm going to post a few things that, lately, have really made my day. The first is from one of my best friends from out in Saskatchewan... he sent me an email the other day with a translation site that allows you to see your name in Russia. Check it out...
http://www.callme.nm.ru/
The second one was posted on R's site as well as J's site. It's a "youtube" link featuring a clip from the John Stewart Show. It shows Ted Stevens, a somewhat infamous buffoon and Senator from Alaska who is describing "internets", or "tubes". It's pretty wonderful...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iMDRVzMfEM&search=ted%20stevens%20internets
J posted another link that showed the wonderful powers of dropping Mentos mints into Diet Coke... also wonderful...
http://www.eepybird.com/dcm1.html
Enjoy, and I'll be back again soon...
- T
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
They call me Mr. No Hair
It's official.
I've taken it upon myself (with the help of my adoring wife) to embrace the reality of my thinning hair and sacrifice what used to be my relatively short mop to the gods of the somewhat mighty hair clippers.
I have talked about the old buzz cut for months now. I had no choice, really. It was inevitable. The entire maternal side of my family has been victimized by male pattern baldness. And as everyone has seen, there is a male propensity to try and cover it up by the slyest of methods available. These include the following:
1) The comb forward... when the hair starts retreating from the facial area, why not brush what's left to the front?
2) The comb-over... when you're past the comb-forward, the comb-over combines the brushing techniques of all directions. This is typically the choice of 1970's LA cops, librarians, and American politicians.
3) The toupee (also known as the "rug" or "carpet")... as the nicknames might imply, this technique is usually manifested in a poor performance. Like an ugly plywood floor, one would think that coverage is a good idea. Until you realize that off-white shag is never a good idea.
4) Hair In A Can (my personal favorite)... did you ever see the Ron Popeil infomercials that challenged balding men everywhere to purchase the revolutionary cure to thinning hair? The Hair in a Can involves a 14in x 14in piece of plywood with an oval-like hole the size of the customer's head cut out of the middle. The next step is to give the canister of Hair in a Can a good shake (remember, big smiles!). The third step involves placing the plywood over the head to protect the ears, and spray said hair product over the crown to cover up all areas of oncoming baldness. The final step is to remove the plywood skull-protector from the head, use a comb to lightly fluff remaining hair/new hair to create a "real" hair finish. Dries in a mere 4 hours.
Although these options are all highly intriguing and all have immense chick-magnet elements, I have decided to bypass them all and move straight to the buzz cut. With my wife by my side (clippers in hand), I closed my eyes and she slowly shaved the shag away and left me with about 3/8ths of an inch of stubble. I think I cried... just a little. But it's done, it's over, and I have to press on. I even took the garbage out so as to rid myself of any remaining reminders of what used to be.
Do I love it? Well, not yet. K thinks I look great, and she's been immensely supportive throughout the experience. And I appreciate it, since I know it's an honest response (she's terrible at lying unless it has to do with shoes purchases). So I guess I'll face the world (and my peers) tomorrow without any regrets (and maybe with a hat, so as to prevent any potential laughter and the possibility of a skullcap sunburn). Gotta move on and leave the proverbial hair behind.
- T
I've taken it upon myself (with the help of my adoring wife) to embrace the reality of my thinning hair and sacrifice what used to be my relatively short mop to the gods of the somewhat mighty hair clippers.
I have talked about the old buzz cut for months now. I had no choice, really. It was inevitable. The entire maternal side of my family has been victimized by male pattern baldness. And as everyone has seen, there is a male propensity to try and cover it up by the slyest of methods available. These include the following:
1) The comb forward... when the hair starts retreating from the facial area, why not brush what's left to the front?
2) The comb-over... when you're past the comb-forward, the comb-over combines the brushing techniques of all directions. This is typically the choice of 1970's LA cops, librarians, and American politicians.
3) The toupee (also known as the "rug" or "carpet")... as the nicknames might imply, this technique is usually manifested in a poor performance. Like an ugly plywood floor, one would think that coverage is a good idea. Until you realize that off-white shag is never a good idea.
4) Hair In A Can (my personal favorite)... did you ever see the Ron Popeil infomercials that challenged balding men everywhere to purchase the revolutionary cure to thinning hair? The Hair in a Can involves a 14in x 14in piece of plywood with an oval-like hole the size of the customer's head cut out of the middle. The next step is to give the canister of Hair in a Can a good shake (remember, big smiles!). The third step involves placing the plywood over the head to protect the ears, and spray said hair product over the crown to cover up all areas of oncoming baldness. The final step is to remove the plywood skull-protector from the head, use a comb to lightly fluff remaining hair/new hair to create a "real" hair finish. Dries in a mere 4 hours.
Although these options are all highly intriguing and all have immense chick-magnet elements, I have decided to bypass them all and move straight to the buzz cut. With my wife by my side (clippers in hand), I closed my eyes and she slowly shaved the shag away and left me with about 3/8ths of an inch of stubble. I think I cried... just a little. But it's done, it's over, and I have to press on. I even took the garbage out so as to rid myself of any remaining reminders of what used to be.
Do I love it? Well, not yet. K thinks I look great, and she's been immensely supportive throughout the experience. And I appreciate it, since I know it's an honest response (she's terrible at lying unless it has to do with shoes purchases). So I guess I'll face the world (and my peers) tomorrow without any regrets (and maybe with a hat, so as to prevent any potential laughter and the possibility of a skullcap sunburn). Gotta move on and leave the proverbial hair behind.
- T
Thursday, July 06, 2006
A plug for a friend of a friend, and one for a website...
Since no one was too interested in my tirade from the other day, here's a couple things to look at.
First, two of my friends know a Canadian Idol contestant from, I think, Season 3, that was born and raised in Drumheller, AB. Her name is Jenn Beaupre, and has a fantastic voice. I heard her first 2 songs about 5 years ago, and her voice has matured a tonne since then. If you're interested in listening to her music and getting some free info/downloads, you can find her stuff at www.myspace.com/jennbeaupremusic Take a listen.
Second, I'm taking another cue from L.G's blog. She mentioned a website where you can type in a song name or your favorite band, and the site will create an ongoing playlist that will stream into your computer. It's like a preferential personal radio station that plays both the song/band you mentioned, and plays similar stuff that you may be interested in. If you like the song, you can give it a thumbs up and the site will play more of that kind... if you don't, give it a thumbs down and it will steer clear of it. Try it. Love it. Embrace it. www.pandora.com
That's all for now...
- T
First, two of my friends know a Canadian Idol contestant from, I think, Season 3, that was born and raised in Drumheller, AB. Her name is Jenn Beaupre, and has a fantastic voice. I heard her first 2 songs about 5 years ago, and her voice has matured a tonne since then. If you're interested in listening to her music and getting some free info/downloads, you can find her stuff at www.myspace.com/jennbeaupremusic Take a listen.
Second, I'm taking another cue from L.G's blog. She mentioned a website where you can type in a song name or your favorite band, and the site will create an ongoing playlist that will stream into your computer. It's like a preferential personal radio station that plays both the song/band you mentioned, and plays similar stuff that you may be interested in. If you like the song, you can give it a thumbs up and the site will play more of that kind... if you don't, give it a thumbs down and it will steer clear of it. Try it. Love it. Embrace it. www.pandora.com
That's all for now...
- T
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
A world of similarities...
I've been thinking a good deal lately about the differences among people, and the relationship of our identities in contrast to the identities of others. Another thing that's been on my mind (that comes and goes from time to time) is the notion of our nationalist persona in the eyes of the rest of the world. This may be a long rant, so get some coffee and make sure you have a few minutes if you plan to read ahead.
I was having a conversation with an extremely pleasant gentleman the other night at work about the Canadian opinion of Americans. He was visiting from California and was planning on taking a job here in B.C. and moving his wife and children to this wonderful island. He's been a political science professor for a number of years, and although he seems to have dabbled in a variety of other career and academic areas, he's thoroughly interested in political science and history in relationship to people and their general ideas.
During the Canada Day celebrations on the Inner Harbour, he and his family walked by a group of teens that were being somewhat-typical crass kids. Although they did not seem to be considering the man and his family in any specific manner, they made a comment about doing something to Americans, most probably because there's never a shortage of US tourists moving through Victoria in the summer. His wife became worried about the mentality of Canadians concerning our southern neighbours, and they were worried that there could be some explicit action taken against them due to their geographical identity. He posed a question to me... is this type of aggression something to worry about? And could they ever expect any sort of incident if people were to learn of their citizenship background?
I reassured him that 99.99% of what he heard was the careless talk of kids, and that I'd never heard of anything of the sort taking place specifically because a person was American. I also told him that, if asked, a good number of Canadians, both old and young, would not hesitate to offer their negative opinions on Americans and American politics if asked, especially in this area of the country. There's no need to point out the obvious fact that Bush isn't generally seen as a popular guy these days (or for most days passed either). However, I was concerned that a careless, idiotic comment like the one coming from these punks could be manifested as a serious threat to visiting Americans.
We discussed briefly the nature of separating the politics from the people. I know for a fact that some people are going to say that in a democratic society, the politics ARE the people. But on a more realistic note, this isn't exactly the case. Let's remember that more people voted for Kerry than Bush numbers-wise, but due to the setup of the US electoral program, Bush won. Not once, but twice. Like it or not (understand it, or don't), it's a fact of life. We must also remember that the majority of voting-age citizens in the US also didn't cast ballots, so the idea that Bush IS the American identity made manifest is misleading. And let's get right to the point... stereotypes get us nowhere.
The fact of the matter is... Canadians (myself included for a long time) build their national identity in a sort of anti-mimetic fashion. Canadians are all the best of what America is, but more importantly, is made up of what America isn't. We have this generalized notion of who we are in the global environment, but we pride ourselves on the fact that what we are is exactly what Americans are not. We villify America and claim our virtue in comparison. Canadians are open-minded. Americans are close-minded imbeciles. Canada is multi-cultural. America is a melting-pot. Canadians are polite, humble, simple folk. Americans are crass, ignorant, and self-involved. The world loves Canadians. The world hates Americans.
First and foremost, let's get rid of these fairytales. These are very misleading and are altogether ridiculous stereotypes. Canadians see themselves as hyper-important in the global eye. The fact is that Canada, in the eyes of most people worldwide, is just another part of North America, and the accents and politics are indecipherable from Americans. For others, we don't even register as an independent nation. Is this necessarily a bad thing? I don't think so. We're a nation of just over 30 million people. Sure, geographically speaking we're the second biggest political landscape in the world, but our population is minute comparatively. Do people learn about Canada? Not really, unless they're teaching a Canadian curriculum at the school in which the students are educated. Canada's only been a recognizable nation for about 140 years. I understand that the first settlers came centuries before the BNA act, and that the First Nations have inhabited the landscape long before Europeans ever came, but as far as global politics in concerned, we're the new kids on the block. Are Canadians really that open-minded? I've been working service jobs for 9 years now and I could provide a lot of evidence to the contrary. Are Americans the close-minded folk we assume they are? I've met a couple that are. But I've met just as many Canadians that are. And I've met countless pleasant, good-natured Americans... moreso than the ones that may seem to give a bad name to the whole country. The problem is the fact that we focus on these characteristics.
A guy from school, K, mentioned that most people in any sort of tourist destination have seen an ignorant southern tourist berate the people waiting on them at a store/restaurant for any number of reasons. We immediately associate this bad behaviour with being American, the give-away being the fact that they have American Flag t-shirts on and speak with a southern drawl. The vast majority of us are quick to forget that when a local clown acts in the same absurd manner, we omit the nationality in question. We don't see a neighbour of ours and say "stupid Canadian" if he's acting like a buffoon. If he does something stupid and he has license plates on his car from Ontario, then we say "stupid easterners" or something similar, but we'd never resort to "stupid Canuck" or another such label. We're all guilty of it. And if you don't think you are, then I either give you cudos or suggest you tune into the channel of Get Real. The latter will be the more likely response.
Are we multi-cultural? Sure, but this has also been one of the complex factors of establishing an identity. We can't forget about the Quebec separation movement that still exists in pockets of the province. Hell, the Separation Party of Alberta even has supporters. What happened to this idea that Canada was a united nation of like-minded individuals? Like I was saying, there's a lot of evidence to point out this absurdity. We establish ourselves as Quebecois, or Albertan, or Torontonians. Every facet has it's labels. Many people in Alberta seriously think that BC is full of hippies and Ontario's full of crooks, and that the east coast is a bunch of fun-loving Celtic drunks who speak in an undecipherable dialect. Ask the people from the east coast what they think of Albertans and the Alberta-centric worldview comes seriously into question. Live in someone's house, meet someone outside of your socio-economic background, and you'll see that things aren't that much different on the other side of the fence.
I guess the point of this little tirade is simply to point out the truth behind the cliche that everyone has differences, both good and bad. The Canadian track record in international affairs is questionable at best, and we must remember that we have our fair share of overt problems, personally and nationally. We must also remember that distinguishing such traits for a group of people within a country or bordered landscape does little to talk about the individual people that we encounter every day. Let's keep our differences... hell, lets embrace them. But at the end of the day, recall the fact that the same red blood runs through our veins. If we can't do that, we're sunk no matter what we do. And get rid of the chip that resides so influentially on our shoulders... it can get so big that it blocks the peripheral view of the rest of the world that we forget to look around for.
- T
I was having a conversation with an extremely pleasant gentleman the other night at work about the Canadian opinion of Americans. He was visiting from California and was planning on taking a job here in B.C. and moving his wife and children to this wonderful island. He's been a political science professor for a number of years, and although he seems to have dabbled in a variety of other career and academic areas, he's thoroughly interested in political science and history in relationship to people and their general ideas.
During the Canada Day celebrations on the Inner Harbour, he and his family walked by a group of teens that were being somewhat-typical crass kids. Although they did not seem to be considering the man and his family in any specific manner, they made a comment about doing something to Americans, most probably because there's never a shortage of US tourists moving through Victoria in the summer. His wife became worried about the mentality of Canadians concerning our southern neighbours, and they were worried that there could be some explicit action taken against them due to their geographical identity. He posed a question to me... is this type of aggression something to worry about? And could they ever expect any sort of incident if people were to learn of their citizenship background?
I reassured him that 99.99% of what he heard was the careless talk of kids, and that I'd never heard of anything of the sort taking place specifically because a person was American. I also told him that, if asked, a good number of Canadians, both old and young, would not hesitate to offer their negative opinions on Americans and American politics if asked, especially in this area of the country. There's no need to point out the obvious fact that Bush isn't generally seen as a popular guy these days (or for most days passed either). However, I was concerned that a careless, idiotic comment like the one coming from these punks could be manifested as a serious threat to visiting Americans.
We discussed briefly the nature of separating the politics from the people. I know for a fact that some people are going to say that in a democratic society, the politics ARE the people. But on a more realistic note, this isn't exactly the case. Let's remember that more people voted for Kerry than Bush numbers-wise, but due to the setup of the US electoral program, Bush won. Not once, but twice. Like it or not (understand it, or don't), it's a fact of life. We must also remember that the majority of voting-age citizens in the US also didn't cast ballots, so the idea that Bush IS the American identity made manifest is misleading. And let's get right to the point... stereotypes get us nowhere.
The fact of the matter is... Canadians (myself included for a long time) build their national identity in a sort of anti-mimetic fashion. Canadians are all the best of what America is, but more importantly, is made up of what America isn't. We have this generalized notion of who we are in the global environment, but we pride ourselves on the fact that what we are is exactly what Americans are not. We villify America and claim our virtue in comparison. Canadians are open-minded. Americans are close-minded imbeciles. Canada is multi-cultural. America is a melting-pot. Canadians are polite, humble, simple folk. Americans are crass, ignorant, and self-involved. The world loves Canadians. The world hates Americans.
First and foremost, let's get rid of these fairytales. These are very misleading and are altogether ridiculous stereotypes. Canadians see themselves as hyper-important in the global eye. The fact is that Canada, in the eyes of most people worldwide, is just another part of North America, and the accents and politics are indecipherable from Americans. For others, we don't even register as an independent nation. Is this necessarily a bad thing? I don't think so. We're a nation of just over 30 million people. Sure, geographically speaking we're the second biggest political landscape in the world, but our population is minute comparatively. Do people learn about Canada? Not really, unless they're teaching a Canadian curriculum at the school in which the students are educated. Canada's only been a recognizable nation for about 140 years. I understand that the first settlers came centuries before the BNA act, and that the First Nations have inhabited the landscape long before Europeans ever came, but as far as global politics in concerned, we're the new kids on the block. Are Canadians really that open-minded? I've been working service jobs for 9 years now and I could provide a lot of evidence to the contrary. Are Americans the close-minded folk we assume they are? I've met a couple that are. But I've met just as many Canadians that are. And I've met countless pleasant, good-natured Americans... moreso than the ones that may seem to give a bad name to the whole country. The problem is the fact that we focus on these characteristics.
A guy from school, K, mentioned that most people in any sort of tourist destination have seen an ignorant southern tourist berate the people waiting on them at a store/restaurant for any number of reasons. We immediately associate this bad behaviour with being American, the give-away being the fact that they have American Flag t-shirts on and speak with a southern drawl. The vast majority of us are quick to forget that when a local clown acts in the same absurd manner, we omit the nationality in question. We don't see a neighbour of ours and say "stupid Canadian" if he's acting like a buffoon. If he does something stupid and he has license plates on his car from Ontario, then we say "stupid easterners" or something similar, but we'd never resort to "stupid Canuck" or another such label. We're all guilty of it. And if you don't think you are, then I either give you cudos or suggest you tune into the channel of Get Real. The latter will be the more likely response.
Are we multi-cultural? Sure, but this has also been one of the complex factors of establishing an identity. We can't forget about the Quebec separation movement that still exists in pockets of the province. Hell, the Separation Party of Alberta even has supporters. What happened to this idea that Canada was a united nation of like-minded individuals? Like I was saying, there's a lot of evidence to point out this absurdity. We establish ourselves as Quebecois, or Albertan, or Torontonians. Every facet has it's labels. Many people in Alberta seriously think that BC is full of hippies and Ontario's full of crooks, and that the east coast is a bunch of fun-loving Celtic drunks who speak in an undecipherable dialect. Ask the people from the east coast what they think of Albertans and the Alberta-centric worldview comes seriously into question. Live in someone's house, meet someone outside of your socio-economic background, and you'll see that things aren't that much different on the other side of the fence.
I guess the point of this little tirade is simply to point out the truth behind the cliche that everyone has differences, both good and bad. The Canadian track record in international affairs is questionable at best, and we must remember that we have our fair share of overt problems, personally and nationally. We must also remember that distinguishing such traits for a group of people within a country or bordered landscape does little to talk about the individual people that we encounter every day. Let's keep our differences... hell, lets embrace them. But at the end of the day, recall the fact that the same red blood runs through our veins. If we can't do that, we're sunk no matter what we do. And get rid of the chip that resides so influentially on our shoulders... it can get so big that it blocks the peripheral view of the rest of the world that we forget to look around for.
- T
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