As per usual, I was at the school about an hour before classes were supposed to begin. Only a few students had arrived, most of them unaware of what happened less than a day ago. I walked from the bus stop, head down, trying not to scuff my shoes as I walked in the front doors. The doors seemed heavier today, as they heaved open with the press of my weight on the handle. I got up the stairs, noticing that my backpack felt much more full than usual, but I knew in the back of my mind it was just because it was today. Monday. Still April, the month of showers... but just barely. It's the last day of the month.
I followed the same routine I always do... up the stairs and into my prep room/office. Bags (two of them) slung off my shoulders and onto the floor by my chaotic work station. I'm not the most tidy guy, but you already knew that. I set up my computer and for a few moments, stared blankly at the screen before hitting the power button. I don't usually just stare, unless I had a restless sleep, but even then, it's limited. This one lasted longer. Again, I knew it was just a side-effect of today.A few emails were checked, others were sent, still others were ignored. I felt okay but a sense of apprehension had been growing inside me all morning. My coffee was sweet and creamy, with the remnants of steam rising from the surface of the liquid. It tasted as it usually did... I love (and need) my morning coffee, but my stomach didn't seem to have the same affection for it. I just hoped the feeling would pass. I caught myself staring at the mug, senselessly avoiding the work that was piled before me. I purposely left it for the weekend, since I knew I was going to be coaching all day Saturday and Sunday. But today it would remain where it was. Dust wouldn't gather for weeks.
I could hear the clicking of footsteps on the floor as someone approached the door. I wanted to guard it, lock it, keep myself inside. Why would I want to see people? I just wanted everyone to leave. Yet, the absurdity of this sentiment collided strongly with the desire to talk to someone, anyone. The feelings did not contradict each other... they strangely agreed. D walked in, asking if I'd received the message from our principal last night. I replied with a nod, but little else. My eyes were fixed on her to see how she was feeling, how she was coping. She's a rock, I thought. Strong, fully ready to cope. I knew this was rubbish, but it was the first response that came into my head nonetheless. I could see some reaction in her, but for my sake she was keeping it together. I couldn't. I thought I got it all out last night, but I didn't. The tears came back, but I knew they were allowed. Today, anyway. Maybe not always, but definitely today.
I had just started to feel better, more together. Then L showed up, noticing that I was obviously upset. Then G, then others. I told the story for those who didn't know. I did my best to get it out. Others shared their stories. But, since it was still a work day, people kept going about their days. After a bit of alone time, I was feeling a bit better. It didn't last
The announcement came over the P.A. I knew about the meeting already, so I went and washed my face so I could meet the rest of the staff downstairs in the main staff room. As I stared into the mirror, I laughed... I'm not the most dashing man when I have eyes full of saline. It was brief laugh, but it was a laugh all the same. After towelling off my face, I made the walk downstairs and down the hall to the staff room. Most people were already there. Some were talking in hushed whispers while others were uncertain what the meeting was about. Our principal walked in with some strangers in tow, and addressed the group. "Sorry to meet you on the Monday morning with this sort of news..." His voice started getting more and more faint, like an echo. Maybe it just seemed that way to me. Still, I knew what was coming. "...the student was killed after being hit by a vehicle on the highway yesterday morning." The man with the crisis intervention team took the floor. I began counting the number of tiles on the floor. The pattern was regular. Predictable. I glanced up periodically to find at least a few pairs of eyes on me. "For those of you who didn't teach or know this student, we're passing around a picture..." It began across the room. The black-and-white travelled from hand to hand, quickly and efficiently, but respectfully at the same time. It came around closer to me... I was leaning on the door frame, as far away from the nucleus of people as possible.
Then I caught a glimpse. It was obviously his school photo... his blond hair was short and simple, and his smile was surprisingly large. I know so many kids who just purse their lips or try to look cool. I remember years when I did the same. But I couldn't take my eyes off the picture. It kept transferring from one set of hands to another, slowly approaching, creeping. I turned sharply when it came to within about five feet. I tried to be subtle when I left, but when you exit a staff meeting in the middle of something like this, subtlety is the last thing you can achieve. I had to get out, if only for a moment. Things just got too big, like an older brother who sits on your chest waiting for you to say uncle or tap out.
Still, people were there. Helping. Hugging. Consoling. I'm not the only one who lost a student today. Why, then, did it feel like it? But the staff were good to me. "You're just a baby", one said affectionately. I think she might have been right.I was at home when I received the news Sunday night. The call came later that night. 10:30'ish. I was on the phone with a friend living in the lower mainland, and we were catching up on all the things that have happened over the past few weeks... coaching, teaching, goofing off, etc. She was excited, since she just landed a contract for the last 2 months of the year at a school she loves and where she did her practicum last year. Then the phone beeped... I saw the name of my principal on the caller ID and instantly got nervous. "Why is he calling on a Sunday night?" I asked myself. Why was he calling at all? I picked up. He apologized for calling late and potentially ruining my Sunday night. Then he gave me the news. I was stunned and didn't really know how to react (or even believe it was real), and before I even realized, I had hung up. After clicking over to my friend, I said I had to go. I hung up again. The tears came uncontrollably. I woke K and told her the news. And I cried some more. She cried with me. Then came the numbness. Later, some sort of sleep arrived, but I was so restless before that happened that I got up for a few hours of TV before trying to get back to bed.
There's a TOC in my class right now. It's one of my other grade 11 classes. I just don't think I could handle it, being there, facing them. Even now, a headache is starting to press on my forehead, not willing to just disappear into a memory. How do you prepare for this? What does teacher training do to get us ready for losing a student? Very little, I know. The rest of the coping is equally as uncertain. I'm not sure if there's ever any preparation you can do. This was one of the school's students. My students. And he's gone. It seems like a definitive statement. But in reality, it's all questions.
- T
Monday, April 30, 2007
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Meme/Survey from Cibi (from, uhh.... a long time ago)
This is from months ago, but I thought I'd post it anyway...
Name a movie you have seen more than 10 times.
Ummm... probably The Princess Bride. Speed probably gets on that list too (I was obsessed with it when it first came out... I was young). Dead Poets Society makes the grade as well.
Name a movie you’ve seen multiple times in the theater.
I'm pretty sure I saw Independence Day in the theatres two or three times. Otherwise, it's pretty rare.
Name an actor who would make you more inclined to see a movie.
Kevin Spacey would be my number one. John Cusack and John Malkovitch... and maybe the chubby kid from Superbad. Mark Wahlberg would probably make the list as well. And ever since I've seen The Departed, I'd probably go see a new Alex Baldwin flick because he was absolutely hilarious in it. Then there's some others for different reasons... Halle Berry, Jessica Alba, and maybe a few others. :)
Name an actor who would make you less inclined to see a movie.
These days it would be Ben Stiller... I used to love his movies, but he's hard to watch now. Steven Segal and Jean-Claude Van Damme (too many ridiculous movies that I watched as a kid... I'll watch them if they're old and blatantly cheesey).
Name a movie that you can quote from.
Pardon the language, but one would be, "Fuck you, batteries!" from the movie Once. I can recite huge amounts of Russell Peters' stand-up comedy... a number of Shakespeare movies (due to teaching them)... "Who is Kaiser Soze?" from The Usual Suspects... "My name is Inigo Mantoya... you killed my father... prepare to die" + "'Inconceivable!' 'I do not think that word means what you think it means'" from The Princess Bride. I'm sure there's more.
Name a movie musical from which you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.
Ummm... this is a sad admittance, but I know a tonne from "Hairspray". When your wife subjects you to tens of hours of the soundtrack on trips to and from Alberta, it's unavoidable.
Name a movie to which you have been known to sing along.
Pretty much any Disney movie.
Name a movie you would recommend everyone see.
Crash, The Usual Suspects, Little Miss Sunshine, The Departed, Superbad, Seven, Dead Poets Society, Once.
Name a movie you own.
I just bought Hoodwinked and Crash.
Name an actor who launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
I'll go with cibi... Will Smith. And Mark Wahlberg.
Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?
A bunch on road trips to Montana when I was a kid... some kids movies... maybe Land Before Time?
Ever made out in a movie?
Only once in public... it was awkward.
Name a movie you keep meaning to see but just haven’t gotten around to it yet.
Rent.
The reason I haven't gotten around to it yet is that I can never remember the titles.Ever walked out of a movie?
Yuppers. But only twice.
Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.
I pretty much broke down in Crash when the Latino locksmith was about to get shot and his daughter came running out.
What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?
Umm... don't recall... something sappy, I'm sure.
What’s your favorite/preferred genre of movie?
Drama, action or comedy.
What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
Land Before Time 1
What movie do you wish you’d never seen?
I've seen a few bad ones... Cruel Intentions II was probably THE worst.
What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?
Being John Malkovitch. It's messed up.
What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?
I also don't watch Scary Movies, but I also enjoyed The Blair Witch Project (judge if you must).
What is the funniest movie you’ve seen?
Old School is still a favourite, and I like a lot of new cartoons (Shrek, The Incredibles, etc.)
Name a movie you have seen more than 10 times.
Ummm... probably The Princess Bride. Speed probably gets on that list too (I was obsessed with it when it first came out... I was young). Dead Poets Society makes the grade as well.
Name a movie you’ve seen multiple times in the theater.
I'm pretty sure I saw Independence Day in the theatres two or three times. Otherwise, it's pretty rare.
Name an actor who would make you more inclined to see a movie.
Kevin Spacey would be my number one. John Cusack and John Malkovitch... and maybe the chubby kid from Superbad. Mark Wahlberg would probably make the list as well. And ever since I've seen The Departed, I'd probably go see a new Alex Baldwin flick because he was absolutely hilarious in it. Then there's some others for different reasons... Halle Berry, Jessica Alba, and maybe a few others. :)
Name an actor who would make you less inclined to see a movie.
These days it would be Ben Stiller... I used to love his movies, but he's hard to watch now. Steven Segal and Jean-Claude Van Damme (too many ridiculous movies that I watched as a kid... I'll watch them if they're old and blatantly cheesey).
Name a movie that you can quote from.
Pardon the language, but one would be, "Fuck you, batteries!" from the movie Once. I can recite huge amounts of Russell Peters' stand-up comedy... a number of Shakespeare movies (due to teaching them)... "Who is Kaiser Soze?" from The Usual Suspects... "My name is Inigo Mantoya... you killed my father... prepare to die" + "'Inconceivable!' 'I do not think that word means what you think it means'" from The Princess Bride. I'm sure there's more.
Name a movie musical from which you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.
Ummm... this is a sad admittance, but I know a tonne from "Hairspray". When your wife subjects you to tens of hours of the soundtrack on trips to and from Alberta, it's unavoidable.
Name a movie to which you have been known to sing along.
Pretty much any Disney movie.
Name a movie you would recommend everyone see.
Crash, The Usual Suspects, Little Miss Sunshine, The Departed, Superbad, Seven, Dead Poets Society, Once.
Name a movie you own.
I just bought Hoodwinked and Crash.
Name an actor who launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
I'll go with cibi... Will Smith. And Mark Wahlberg.
Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?
A bunch on road trips to Montana when I was a kid... some kids movies... maybe Land Before Time?
Ever made out in a movie?
Only once in public... it was awkward.
Name a movie you keep meaning to see but just haven’t gotten around to it yet.
Rent.
The reason I haven't gotten around to it yet is that I can never remember the titles.Ever walked out of a movie?
Yuppers. But only twice.
Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.
I pretty much broke down in Crash when the Latino locksmith was about to get shot and his daughter came running out.
What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?
Umm... don't recall... something sappy, I'm sure.
What’s your favorite/preferred genre of movie?
Drama, action or comedy.
What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
Land Before Time 1
What movie do you wish you’d never seen?
I've seen a few bad ones... Cruel Intentions II was probably THE worst.
What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?
Being John Malkovitch. It's messed up.
What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?
I also don't watch Scary Movies, but I also enjoyed The Blair Witch Project (judge if you must).
What is the funniest movie you’ve seen?
Old School is still a favourite, and I like a lot of new cartoons (Shrek, The Incredibles, etc.)
Survival
Well, I'm not the demi-God of teaching. I'm not the future saviour of the profession either. But, the final report was good, and I think I've officially survived and weathered the storm of the Internship. Sure, I have P/T conferences next week (on the same day as my district interview), I still have to receive my final report from 2/3 sponsor teachers, and I have a stack of marking that may reach the ceiling, but officially, I'm done. DONE! Weeeeeeeeeee. I know there's a long way to go, but as of May 4th, I'm an official employee (temporarily) of the district and will be put on the TOC list for the remainder of the year for my remaining days off. It's kindof lovely.
But I can't dwell on that today... my volleyball team is playing in provincials today, so I hope all the work I've done with these 15 year olds has paid off and we light up the gym. Wish me luck! I'm hoping for top 10, but that'll be another update for another day.
- T
Post-script: I need to make sure that I don't take all the credit for my pictures that I posted the other day... I took some of them, but many (most) were actually taken by my lovely wife, K. I forgot to mention that... sorry hun!
But I can't dwell on that today... my volleyball team is playing in provincials today, so I hope all the work I've done with these 15 year olds has paid off and we light up the gym. Wish me luck! I'm hoping for top 10, but that'll be another update for another day.
- T
Post-script: I need to make sure that I don't take all the credit for my pictures that I posted the other day... I took some of them, but many (most) were actually taken by my lovely wife, K. I forgot to mention that... sorry hun!
Friday, April 27, 2007
Thus begins, the day of judgment...
It's my final evaluation from my university advisor today. In essence, this report will make or break my teaching career. Although I'm not terrified, there is an unavoidable stress that goes along with any evaluation. Particularly one of this magnitude. I guess I just have to wait and see what is to come.
“The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck.”
- R. W. Emerson
- T
“The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck.”
- R. W. Emerson
- T
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The finish line and other such nonsense
I'll be completing one of my classes as of tomorrow. TOMORROW! I'm ending a unit with a research project and a unit test, and other than the marking that will accompany said test/project, I'll be done that class. So on Friday, I'll be down to two classes, one each day.
Then, next Thursday I'll be dropping another class, which means that I will only have one class remaining to take care of from that point foward (for the last 6 weeks until exams, so realistically I'll only have approximately 12 classes remaining that I'll be responsible for until the end of the term/exams week). And then the real challenge begins... getting me a job somewhere!
Over the past few days, I've come to realize that in all the stress, anxiety, and pressure I've had to deal with, that I made this choice for a reason. I didn't think I'd be the one to lose sight of it, but I really did. I have always wanted to inspire a love of literature in others, but over the past few weeks/months, I've lost sight of that. I was talking with two of my students last night and I mentioned that I didn't dislike any of the students in the class. Sure, I've disliked their actions from time to time, but not them personally. I've even thought to myself how they act like this or like that (not in a positive way) and how frustrating it can be. But when I take some time to look back on it, I really do enjoy being here. Some of it is ego... I do enjoy being in front of people (I'm surprised I didn't get more involved in theatre), but a good part of it is my sincere enjoyment with these young adults. They're intriguing, they're interesting, they're sometimes unpredictable, they're unruly, they're charming, they're sometimes a walking headache. Still, I see these students in the hallway or in my class or at a tutorial and I think that I'm pretty lucky that I get to experience all of this. Teaching is definitely not for the faint of heart. All jobs have responsibilities, but there's few that assume the responsibility for the lives of 30 minors... and not simply their lives, but their moral, emotional and intellectual development. If that's not overwhelming, I don't know what is.
My goal for these next 8 weeks: to find a kernal of the passion that I had when I walked into this school, and to do my best to understand these people that are forced to look at me for guidance, for leadership, and for development. I sometimes forget what my role is. I can only hope that if I can come to regain an understanding of what the role is supposed to be, than I can do something to win over those who are uninterested and lacking motivation. How? That is TBA...
- T
Then, next Thursday I'll be dropping another class, which means that I will only have one class remaining to take care of from that point foward (for the last 6 weeks until exams, so realistically I'll only have approximately 12 classes remaining that I'll be responsible for until the end of the term/exams week). And then the real challenge begins... getting me a job somewhere!
Over the past few days, I've come to realize that in all the stress, anxiety, and pressure I've had to deal with, that I made this choice for a reason. I didn't think I'd be the one to lose sight of it, but I really did. I have always wanted to inspire a love of literature in others, but over the past few weeks/months, I've lost sight of that. I was talking with two of my students last night and I mentioned that I didn't dislike any of the students in the class. Sure, I've disliked their actions from time to time, but not them personally. I've even thought to myself how they act like this or like that (not in a positive way) and how frustrating it can be. But when I take some time to look back on it, I really do enjoy being here. Some of it is ego... I do enjoy being in front of people (I'm surprised I didn't get more involved in theatre), but a good part of it is my sincere enjoyment with these young adults. They're intriguing, they're interesting, they're sometimes unpredictable, they're unruly, they're charming, they're sometimes a walking headache. Still, I see these students in the hallway or in my class or at a tutorial and I think that I'm pretty lucky that I get to experience all of this. Teaching is definitely not for the faint of heart. All jobs have responsibilities, but there's few that assume the responsibility for the lives of 30 minors... and not simply their lives, but their moral, emotional and intellectual development. If that's not overwhelming, I don't know what is.
My goal for these next 8 weeks: to find a kernal of the passion that I had when I walked into this school, and to do my best to understand these people that are forced to look at me for guidance, for leadership, and for development. I sometimes forget what my role is. I can only hope that if I can come to regain an understanding of what the role is supposed to be, than I can do something to win over those who are uninterested and lacking motivation. How? That is TBA...
- T
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Macbeth, CSI, and the first days of the rest of my life
Connecting curriculum material to the lives of students is probably one of the greatest strengths a teacher can possess. These days, if they material being taught in a class doesn't directly influence or link to a kids life, it could be very easily forgotten. Sure, this doesn't happen in all cases... for a lot of kids, the fact that it needs to be remembered for a test or quiz or assignment is enough. However, for a huge number of students, they simply don't care too much.
Thus, I am able to talk about one of my addictions: CSI. Shakespeare might as well be Greek for some kids. They couldn't be less interested. It's difficult, time-consuming, often frustrating, and takes place so long before their existence that many simply don't see a point to it at all. However, you spend a good deal of time connecting it to crime dramas that appear on prime time TV, they actually get an idea of what's happening. And really, MAcbeth is a perfect case of a ridiculously thick-skulled criminal who is effected by bouts of random hallucinations and is obsessed with the prophecies that come from a bunch of old, scary, bearded ladies. I don't know about some other people, but he's a big bucket of crazy, and there are lessons to be learned.
Changing gears slightly...
I officially have 10 days of student teaching left before I'm officially done my teaching program. Sure, I have to teach one of my classes to the end of the year, but I'm done 2/3 and can start making some money. Which is lovely. But in these last 2 weeks, I really have to pull out the stops in order to make my one sponsor teacher happy. And that is going to be a difficult task. She's not only uber-intelligent, but she's crazy organized, super-ambitious, and has the big picture structure down pat. I think from the time that she started that she was a natural at all of the above talents, and this whole teaching thing came fairly easy to her. I also have no doubt that even though she has the odd off-day, she's about as committed and focussed as anyone around. She's really like a super-teacher... although she's hard, she does an excellent job. However (of COURSE there had to be a "but")... I'm terrified as to what she's going to write about me. My university advisor and her sat down for over an hour the other day while I was teaching, then neglected to tell me what went on. Also, my visit by my advisor immediately following this wasn't super-wonderful. It was one of those, "You've improved so much at X, Y, and Z this year T! But..." The dreaded "but". For those of you who aren't involved in teaching, this is a killer phrase. In reality, one mediocre teaching report can ruin the chances of getting a teaching position in the district I'm working in (particularly since everyone knows everyone). And although I think I'm competent and relatively well-liked, I'm absolutely terrified of the possibility of receiving a "but" on my teaching report. I've hit more or less every single trait listed on our teaching reports to a reasonable degree, and for this I'm happy. However, this one sponsor may put that dreaded "but" in the area of planning and organization which may hurt me. Even though I probably did more planning that 2-3 interns did together. I have no doubt that others worked as hard or harder than I did, but for one single sponsor, I did more work for her than I did for all my other ones combined.
I definitely struggled with the planning and lesson prep. It hasn't come naturally to me and I still have moments where I get caught up in all the stress and I stop doing the job I know I can. And any friend of mine can tell you I've NEVER been the most organized guy in town. K could tell you this over and over. But over the past 8 months, I've come a long way and I feel like I've improved 10 fold in so many ways. Still, I'm not sure it was good enough for my sponsor. And it seems like no matter what my other sponsors say about me positively, her questions and constant challenges make me feel like I'm totally letting down her and the system as a whole. I don't think this is true, but it still lingers in my mind.
I know I only have 5 more classes with her, and that I've just gotta push through. But when I walked into this program, I thought I'd be a natural at every aspect of teaching. I thought my personality would provide me with a walk on easy street. My, how wrong I was. I'm definitely doing okay, but I do have a ways to go. And teaching is not one of those occupations that you ever totally get down. The kid factor is simply too great to be totally effective. And so I'm finishing these last few weeks with mixed emotions and can't get over the stress that I've been feeling over the past 2-3 weeks. It's like a constant anxiety to do something I'm incapable of doing.
At one point, I think I talked about Diogenes of Sinope who would walk around the Athenian Agora carry a lamp in the middle of the day. When asked what he was doing, he responded by saying that he was searching for an honest man. I really identified with him, and still do. However, over the past few weeks I've identified with another figure of Ancient Greece... a man by the name of Sisyphus. In The Odyssey he is mentioned to have been punished for trickery. His duty was to push or carry a boulder up a steep hill. However, whenever he reached the top, the rock with slip out of his grasp and roll back down the hill. This was his eternal destiny. I feel that sometimes teaching is similar... just when we think we have things under control, that boulder slips, and soon we are at the bottom of the hill trying to figure out how to get that boulder to the top. The one difference is the rewards throughout the journey are ever-present in the eyes of the students we teach. I sometimes forget that I'm not pursuing this career for me... but for the students I'll be teaching. It's hard to keep that in mind sometimes.
- T
Thus, I am able to talk about one of my addictions: CSI. Shakespeare might as well be Greek for some kids. They couldn't be less interested. It's difficult, time-consuming, often frustrating, and takes place so long before their existence that many simply don't see a point to it at all. However, you spend a good deal of time connecting it to crime dramas that appear on prime time TV, they actually get an idea of what's happening. And really, MAcbeth is a perfect case of a ridiculously thick-skulled criminal who is effected by bouts of random hallucinations and is obsessed with the prophecies that come from a bunch of old, scary, bearded ladies. I don't know about some other people, but he's a big bucket of crazy, and there are lessons to be learned.
Changing gears slightly...
I officially have 10 days of student teaching left before I'm officially done my teaching program. Sure, I have to teach one of my classes to the end of the year, but I'm done 2/3 and can start making some money. Which is lovely. But in these last 2 weeks, I really have to pull out the stops in order to make my one sponsor teacher happy. And that is going to be a difficult task. She's not only uber-intelligent, but she's crazy organized, super-ambitious, and has the big picture structure down pat. I think from the time that she started that she was a natural at all of the above talents, and this whole teaching thing came fairly easy to her. I also have no doubt that even though she has the odd off-day, she's about as committed and focussed as anyone around. She's really like a super-teacher... although she's hard, she does an excellent job. However (of COURSE there had to be a "but")... I'm terrified as to what she's going to write about me. My university advisor and her sat down for over an hour the other day while I was teaching, then neglected to tell me what went on. Also, my visit by my advisor immediately following this wasn't super-wonderful. It was one of those, "You've improved so much at X, Y, and Z this year T! But..." The dreaded "but". For those of you who aren't involved in teaching, this is a killer phrase. In reality, one mediocre teaching report can ruin the chances of getting a teaching position in the district I'm working in (particularly since everyone knows everyone). And although I think I'm competent and relatively well-liked, I'm absolutely terrified of the possibility of receiving a "but" on my teaching report. I've hit more or less every single trait listed on our teaching reports to a reasonable degree, and for this I'm happy. However, this one sponsor may put that dreaded "but" in the area of planning and organization which may hurt me. Even though I probably did more planning that 2-3 interns did together. I have no doubt that others worked as hard or harder than I did, but for one single sponsor, I did more work for her than I did for all my other ones combined.
I definitely struggled with the planning and lesson prep. It hasn't come naturally to me and I still have moments where I get caught up in all the stress and I stop doing the job I know I can. And any friend of mine can tell you I've NEVER been the most organized guy in town. K could tell you this over and over. But over the past 8 months, I've come a long way and I feel like I've improved 10 fold in so many ways. Still, I'm not sure it was good enough for my sponsor. And it seems like no matter what my other sponsors say about me positively, her questions and constant challenges make me feel like I'm totally letting down her and the system as a whole. I don't think this is true, but it still lingers in my mind.
I know I only have 5 more classes with her, and that I've just gotta push through. But when I walked into this program, I thought I'd be a natural at every aspect of teaching. I thought my personality would provide me with a walk on easy street. My, how wrong I was. I'm definitely doing okay, but I do have a ways to go. And teaching is not one of those occupations that you ever totally get down. The kid factor is simply too great to be totally effective. And so I'm finishing these last few weeks with mixed emotions and can't get over the stress that I've been feeling over the past 2-3 weeks. It's like a constant anxiety to do something I'm incapable of doing.
At one point, I think I talked about Diogenes of Sinope who would walk around the Athenian Agora carry a lamp in the middle of the day. When asked what he was doing, he responded by saying that he was searching for an honest man. I really identified with him, and still do. However, over the past few weeks I've identified with another figure of Ancient Greece... a man by the name of Sisyphus. In The Odyssey he is mentioned to have been punished for trickery. His duty was to push or carry a boulder up a steep hill. However, whenever he reached the top, the rock with slip out of his grasp and roll back down the hill. This was his eternal destiny. I feel that sometimes teaching is similar... just when we think we have things under control, that boulder slips, and soon we are at the bottom of the hill trying to figure out how to get that boulder to the top. The one difference is the rewards throughout the journey are ever-present in the eyes of the students we teach. I sometimes forget that I'm not pursuing this career for me... but for the students I'll be teaching. It's hard to keep that in mind sometimes.
- T
Monday, April 16, 2007
Addition from previous post...
a) I forgot to add the picture of the fox cubs and...
b) After doing an image search online, it looks like the fox we saw was a "Silver Fox"... not to be mistaken for the slick silver foxes that prowl through peeler joints and over-25 clubs. This vulpes vulpes is the real deal.
c) Finally, a few more pictures that I'd just like to add...
You know you're in a tourist town when...
A mini-getaway and three weeks remaining
Before Christmas time, I mentioned to K that my most memorable presents/gifts were things like trips or vacations or the things we did around the special occasions that usually involved gift giving. She was always getting disappointed about my reaction to the things she got for me as presents... although I was always excited, I'm pretty hard to get really riled up regarding gifts. So, she took an alternative approach and paid for a night up at Sun Peaks Resort, which we were finally able to take this past weekend.
It's off-season for this ski destination, which is just fine with me. I'm definitely more into the quiet vacations where I don't have to fight crowds and there's no rush to get anything accomplished, and this night away fulfilled exactly that. Not only was it beautiful and refreshing, but it was quiet... we were one of three rooms that were booked between the two buildings at the Pinnacle Lodge, and nearly the whole town is shut down until May Long Weekend when things begin to open again for the summer tourist season. We were able to enjoy the scenery, the quiet, and the outdoor hot tub (which was completely deserted). Needless to say, it was about as enjoyable as a one-night vacation gets. We also got a first hand look some type of fox and it's cubs, which were playing near the roadside and popping in and out of their den. If you can identify the type of fox, let me know because I have no clue what kind it is. The pictures of the pups are blurry... my apologies..
I can't wait to go on another trip... we're hoping a camping trip with some good friends is upcoming at the end of June, so my fingers are crossed. With gifts like this last trip, I think I snagged a pretty good lady.
On a completely unrelated note, I only have three weeks of practicum time left until certification... craziness!
- T
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Hate the flaw, love the flaw victim?
I absolutely despise my shortcomings. I think the worst part, however, is the fact that while I'm indulging in these shortcomings, I'm completely unaware of, or completely unwilling to change, said faults. One of these things is talking too much (surprised, anyone?). Another is a terrible sense of time. If I'm not constantly looking at the clock, I'm so completely prone to losing track of time that I'm late for things or I completely underestimate the amount of time it will take me to do something... anything, really. Many of my friends have referred to my world working on what has been dubbed, "T-Time", which differs drastically from Standard Time. If Standard Time dictates that Activity X should take 10 minutes, T-Time will mean it will probably be 15 or 20. If I ever told someone 6:30, they could expect no problems if they arrived at approximately 6:43. If I say I'll meet you in 20 minutes, don't worry if you don't get there for 30. This turns into the obvious issues of always being late and never providing myself enough time to do things.
I'm absolutely certain this was one of the main factors that prevented me from earning my million when I was painting on a piece-work system two years ago. And it also directly impacts my teaching, since teachers have to learn to budget their time extremely well in order to get through the intended lessons and curriculum. When looking long-term, I'm not terrible, but in the short term things are absolutely awful. I'm sure I get this from my mom (since my dad has had to deal with the fact that she's late, or, at least not early, well, ever), since it seems like her genetics have pretty much hit me like a tonne of bricks since I was kid (fair skin, early hair loss, average height, bad joints, propensity to gab, atrocious memory) and they continue to manifest themselves quite regularly. And really, I blame my mom's genes for all the obvious things which she suffers from that I see in myself. I've always wondered how certain sets of genes can so overwhelmingly control the fate of one offspring... not quite like the pea pods and curved thumbs that we studied in high school biology.
The point of this is really to say that, in my slow attempts at getting ready and putting my life in order before heading out the door, I realized I was late and that I was going to miss my bus. Which I did. Which is why I'm stranded here at the University, waiting for the next bus out to my sponsor school. Oh joy, oh bliss. I think I'm just trying to make excuses, because I find that things are easier to accept when you don't have control over them. Maybe not all things, but I've got a pretty large Hakuna Matata attitude, so I find that its pretty easy to deal with. Particularly those things that make you feel like a big moron. Oh well... not much I can do at this point in the game. Thank goodness for silent reading at the start of class.
- T
I'm absolutely certain this was one of the main factors that prevented me from earning my million when I was painting on a piece-work system two years ago. And it also directly impacts my teaching, since teachers have to learn to budget their time extremely well in order to get through the intended lessons and curriculum. When looking long-term, I'm not terrible, but in the short term things are absolutely awful. I'm sure I get this from my mom (since my dad has had to deal with the fact that she's late, or, at least not early, well, ever), since it seems like her genetics have pretty much hit me like a tonne of bricks since I was kid (fair skin, early hair loss, average height, bad joints, propensity to gab, atrocious memory) and they continue to manifest themselves quite regularly. And really, I blame my mom's genes for all the obvious things which she suffers from that I see in myself. I've always wondered how certain sets of genes can so overwhelmingly control the fate of one offspring... not quite like the pea pods and curved thumbs that we studied in high school biology.
The point of this is really to say that, in my slow attempts at getting ready and putting my life in order before heading out the door, I realized I was late and that I was going to miss my bus. Which I did. Which is why I'm stranded here at the University, waiting for the next bus out to my sponsor school. Oh joy, oh bliss. I think I'm just trying to make excuses, because I find that things are easier to accept when you don't have control over them. Maybe not all things, but I've got a pretty large Hakuna Matata attitude, so I find that its pretty easy to deal with. Particularly those things that make you feel like a big moron. Oh well... not much I can do at this point in the game. Thank goodness for silent reading at the start of class.
- T
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Do you ever have days...
... that seem like they go on forever? Today is one of them. If only I had some clever quote about being kicked in the teeth with a golf cleat then having the victime smile because they're optimistic. I don't think this makes sense. G' night.
-T
-T
Sunday, April 01, 2007
100 posts
I think it should be a celebration!
Okay, maybe that's a bit absurd. If I were to celebrate my own incessant rambling, it would be like celebrating how much I love myself. And, well, that's simply a bit strange. And egocentric. And just ridiculous. So I won't. But this is post #100... weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Now that I'm finished with that, onto other things.
I used to be a voracious reader. I had a strong appetite for a variety of fiction (usually Canadian) and loved spending time at coffee shops on my own just enjoying the fact that I'm alone and I'm okay with that. Needless to say, it's been a long time since I've had a chance to enjoy that sort of time. Between school, work, social and familial committments, there's not a massive amount of T-time left. The odd walk and time on my own either browsing the internet or doing schoolwork is about all I have. Not that it's anything to cry about, but I sometimes miss the days where I could put in my headphones, go for a walk down to the local java hut, and just lose myself for three or four hours eavesdropping on a variety of interesting and not-so-interesting conversations while DMB filled my ears and the smells of chocolate and coffee grounds and toasting sandwiches filled my nostrils, all the while getting lost in the adventures of Timothy Findlay or Douglas Coupland. It's just been a long time since I've been alone.
And it looks like this weekend might be the first time that I have that time. Time to work on my resume, waste time watching crappy TV, drinking coffee at a shop that I've never been to, and just getting my mind together. Sure, it gets a little lonely and I'm a bit of a social butterfly, but I've always been fairly good at being on my own. K might be heading back to visit her family again this weekend since they recently put down a rather large creature of the bovine family which has been turned into a wide variety of choice cuts that are coming to my deep freeze at the most reasonable of prices (and they need to be picked up and brought out here). K wants me to go with her for the drive, but I've been going somewhere and doing something every weekend for the past 3 months, and it might be nice just to have the weekend off. Of everything. Including 16 hours in the car, even though I thoroughly enjoy car rides with my hunny.
So, I guess here's to a year of blogging, 100 rants, and a self-indulgent attempt at immortalizing my less-than-exciting life. I only hope that a little pleasure comes from this from time to time (for my 3 or so readers per day!).
- T
Okay, maybe that's a bit absurd. If I were to celebrate my own incessant rambling, it would be like celebrating how much I love myself. And, well, that's simply a bit strange. And egocentric. And just ridiculous. So I won't. But this is post #100... weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Now that I'm finished with that, onto other things.
I used to be a voracious reader. I had a strong appetite for a variety of fiction (usually Canadian) and loved spending time at coffee shops on my own just enjoying the fact that I'm alone and I'm okay with that. Needless to say, it's been a long time since I've had a chance to enjoy that sort of time. Between school, work, social and familial committments, there's not a massive amount of T-time left. The odd walk and time on my own either browsing the internet or doing schoolwork is about all I have. Not that it's anything to cry about, but I sometimes miss the days where I could put in my headphones, go for a walk down to the local java hut, and just lose myself for three or four hours eavesdropping on a variety of interesting and not-so-interesting conversations while DMB filled my ears and the smells of chocolate and coffee grounds and toasting sandwiches filled my nostrils, all the while getting lost in the adventures of Timothy Findlay or Douglas Coupland. It's just been a long time since I've been alone.
And it looks like this weekend might be the first time that I have that time. Time to work on my resume, waste time watching crappy TV, drinking coffee at a shop that I've never been to, and just getting my mind together. Sure, it gets a little lonely and I'm a bit of a social butterfly, but I've always been fairly good at being on my own. K might be heading back to visit her family again this weekend since they recently put down a rather large creature of the bovine family which has been turned into a wide variety of choice cuts that are coming to my deep freeze at the most reasonable of prices (and they need to be picked up and brought out here). K wants me to go with her for the drive, but I've been going somewhere and doing something every weekend for the past 3 months, and it might be nice just to have the weekend off. Of everything. Including 16 hours in the car, even though I thoroughly enjoy car rides with my hunny.
So, I guess here's to a year of blogging, 100 rants, and a self-indulgent attempt at immortalizing my less-than-exciting life. I only hope that a little pleasure comes from this from time to time (for my 3 or so readers per day!).
- T
Thursday, March 29, 2007
My life as a pilly sweater
I was obviously very tired yesterday. As my friend/colleague N.T. were on our way back into town from school, this thought came into my head and I had to share it. I looked over and said something along the lines of, "I feel fuzzy. I mean, my hair does. I think I need a haircut. Do you ever feel like your head looks like an old, worn-in teddy bear? I do, and my hair feels like that right now." I laughed out loud to myself, and said, "Ah... my life as a pilly sweater! I should write a book about that." I looked over at N.T. and inquired, "Would you buy a book by me titled, 'My life as a pilly sweater'?" She laughed and I felt like a bit of a meathead. Still funny.
Yesterday just felt like the longest half-day of teaching I've had since being here. I'm sure some of it was caused by a mediocre sleep (or just lack of spring-break sleepins), but nonetheless I needed a bit more of it. Then I had two hours of volleyball after I got home and cooked, then marked until 11pm before finally crawling into bed (where I fell asleep immediately after hitting the pillow). Today is gonna be another long one, but I have a limited amount of work to do and tomorrow's Friday (oh joy, oh bliss). And next week is a short week and so is the week after. And then after those 2 weeks, I only have 3 more weeks after that until I'm certified. Not that I'm counting. Okay, maybe I'm counting. And it's springtime. And there's ice cream in the freezer. So really, life's swell. Other than darn kids giving me migraines, life's swell.
- T
Yesterday just felt like the longest half-day of teaching I've had since being here. I'm sure some of it was caused by a mediocre sleep (or just lack of spring-break sleepins), but nonetheless I needed a bit more of it. Then I had two hours of volleyball after I got home and cooked, then marked until 11pm before finally crawling into bed (where I fell asleep immediately after hitting the pillow). Today is gonna be another long one, but I have a limited amount of work to do and tomorrow's Friday (oh joy, oh bliss). And next week is a short week and so is the week after. And then after those 2 weeks, I only have 3 more weeks after that until I'm certified. Not that I'm counting. Okay, maybe I'm counting. And it's springtime. And there's ice cream in the freezer. So really, life's swell. Other than darn kids giving me migraines, life's swell.
- T
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Cute things I saw as I was driving to the school today
I had to get some photocopying done, and as I was driving, I saw some pretty funny things....
One billboard read,
"My wife and I had words last night... I just didn't get to use mine."
Another one read,
"Fat is what you get for breaking the feed limit."
The final entertaining thing I saw was a group of kindergarteners waiting on the side of the road and pumping their arms in the air. At first I wasn't sure what they were doing, but then I heard a deep, loud honk coming from the cement truck. They successfully got the cement truck to pull his air horn, hence the arm-pumping motion. During sport road trips back in junior high and high school we used to do that to passing semi's all the time. That, as well as reaching out the window and making paddling motions as we passed people (yes, like in a canoe). Fun times.
- T
One billboard read,
"My wife and I had words last night... I just didn't get to use mine."
Another one read,
"Fat is what you get for breaking the feed limit."
The final entertaining thing I saw was a group of kindergarteners waiting on the side of the road and pumping their arms in the air. At first I wasn't sure what they were doing, but then I heard a deep, loud honk coming from the cement truck. They successfully got the cement truck to pull his air horn, hence the arm-pumping motion. During sport road trips back in junior high and high school we used to do that to passing semi's all the time. That, as well as reaching out the window and making paddling motions as we passed people (yes, like in a canoe). Fun times.
- T
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
How I communicate:
Interestingly, I did this once and had "You Communicate Like a Man" come up. I then went back and changed only one answer, and this came up. Interesting, very interesting...
You Communicate Like a Woman |
 You empathize, talk things out, and express your emotions freely. You're a good listener, and you're non-judgmental with your advice. Communication is how you connect with people. You're always up for a long talk, no matter how difficult the subject matter is. |
In other news...
I had a really enjoyable trip back to Alberta last weekend. It was great to see a huge number of friends and acquaintances, as well as my family. As always, it never seems like long enough, but it's enjoyable all the same. I'm glad that I have the opportunities to see everyone from time to time.
I was also thinking about where I'm going to be in the next few years. I've been asked repeatedly if I plan to go back to my home town or to Alberta in general, and my response keeps coming back to, "I'm not sure." I'm sure some people think that I hesitate because I don't want to be close to my family, or that I really despise Alberta. However, this isn't really the case at all.
There's no doubt that I love my independence and the fact that I can make a life on my own (with K, of course) outside of the place where I grew up. Other people have difficulty with this. But the fact remains that I simply love B.C. I feel pretty much at home here, and now that I'm in the interior, I'm really enjoying the fact that K and I can drive home for our holidays rather than shelling out money for a flight. This is the real reason I'm hesitating at the move back home. Along with the fact that only a few of my friends still live in Lethbridge and I have many here in B.C. makes me want to stay. The real reason we're considering the move back to Alberta is our families, and as we start considering having a family of our own, we'd like to be closer to them all. If they were in B.C., I wouldn't be planning a move back to the 4-0-3, but since they are there, we're slowly moving closer and closer as time moves on.
Another consideration is where I get a teaching job. I'm hoping to get one here in the valley, but I have no idea if that's going to happen (even though I'm hopeful and moderately confident). I'll probably apply for jobs all over the place, and maybe even send in an application for my old mentor's teaching position. I don't know. All I know is that I've got a lot on my plate and I have no clue where I'll be in 6 months. Wherever it is, though, I'm sure I'll be happy...
- T
I was also thinking about where I'm going to be in the next few years. I've been asked repeatedly if I plan to go back to my home town or to Alberta in general, and my response keeps coming back to, "I'm not sure." I'm sure some people think that I hesitate because I don't want to be close to my family, or that I really despise Alberta. However, this isn't really the case at all.
There's no doubt that I love my independence and the fact that I can make a life on my own (with K, of course) outside of the place where I grew up. Other people have difficulty with this. But the fact remains that I simply love B.C. I feel pretty much at home here, and now that I'm in the interior, I'm really enjoying the fact that K and I can drive home for our holidays rather than shelling out money for a flight. This is the real reason I'm hesitating at the move back home. Along with the fact that only a few of my friends still live in Lethbridge and I have many here in B.C. makes me want to stay. The real reason we're considering the move back to Alberta is our families, and as we start considering having a family of our own, we'd like to be closer to them all. If they were in B.C., I wouldn't be planning a move back to the 4-0-3, but since they are there, we're slowly moving closer and closer as time moves on.
Another consideration is where I get a teaching job. I'm hoping to get one here in the valley, but I have no idea if that's going to happen (even though I'm hopeful and moderately confident). I'll probably apply for jobs all over the place, and maybe even send in an application for my old mentor's teaching position. I don't know. All I know is that I've got a lot on my plate and I have no clue where I'll be in 6 months. Wherever it is, though, I'm sure I'll be happy...
- T
Certain all-consuming things
I was tossing and turning. My feet were slightly cold since we decided to leave the window open a crack in order to let in some of the fresh (but chilly) night air. And I was dreaming. Not about sunsets or puppies or eating cheeseburgers (do people actually dream about these things?), but about school. Not university either, but my upcoming return to my sponsor school after a generally enjoyable spring break.
As I rolled over for the tenth time, I grabbed my glasses so I could see the alarm across the room; it read 4:13am. I was awake. Actually, not just awake.... wide awake. I came to the realization that I had only two days to meet with my sponsor teacher about my unit plans for the upcoming 6 weeks, and I hadn't sent them off yet. Of course, this is typical me, but still created some stress.
I thought about what I needed to do, and even wrote down a few things on a post-it sitting on my bedside table. I had it all somewhat clear in my mind, although there were some unanswered questions that I'm still not sure about. So I tried to roll over and get some more sleep. The clock read 4:27. And then it read 4:35. I read it again with the same result a few moments later (the minutes passing by exceedingly slowly), so I just got up, turned on the computer, and started typing. It was early, but when you're awake, you're awake. Or, at least I am.
I didn't get a huge amount accomplished, but I laid out some things that I finished today and got rid of the demons that troubled my sleep. After typing up some of the plan and writing myself some notes, I had a glass of milk and crawled back into bed. And I'm still wondering why I'm doing far more work than almost anyone else in the program. I constantly ask others what is expected of them, and I keep running into the same general response: a limited amount. As long as they're doing a tolerable job, they have the class under control and they show a sense of competence, sponsor teachers are happy. And this seems to be the case in 2/3 of my classes. But in one, it's an all-consuming battle to meet expectations and try to figure this whole thing out.
- T
As I rolled over for the tenth time, I grabbed my glasses so I could see the alarm across the room; it read 4:13am. I was awake. Actually, not just awake.... wide awake. I came to the realization that I had only two days to meet with my sponsor teacher about my unit plans for the upcoming 6 weeks, and I hadn't sent them off yet. Of course, this is typical me, but still created some stress.
I thought about what I needed to do, and even wrote down a few things on a post-it sitting on my bedside table. I had it all somewhat clear in my mind, although there were some unanswered questions that I'm still not sure about. So I tried to roll over and get some more sleep. The clock read 4:27. And then it read 4:35. I read it again with the same result a few moments later (the minutes passing by exceedingly slowly), so I just got up, turned on the computer, and started typing. It was early, but when you're awake, you're awake. Or, at least I am.
I didn't get a huge amount accomplished, but I laid out some things that I finished today and got rid of the demons that troubled my sleep. After typing up some of the plan and writing myself some notes, I had a glass of milk and crawled back into bed. And I'm still wondering why I'm doing far more work than almost anyone else in the program. I constantly ask others what is expected of them, and I keep running into the same general response: a limited amount. As long as they're doing a tolerable job, they have the class under control and they show a sense of competence, sponsor teachers are happy. And this seems to be the case in 2/3 of my classes. But in one, it's an all-consuming battle to meet expectations and try to figure this whole thing out.
- T
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Walking... stories.
If I ever go for a walk, I often think about the people I pass or see from the sidewalk and wonder what they're doing, or where they're going, or what they're thinking. I look at a young man with his child at the park and I wonder if he has an interesting story to tell about the tatoos that crawl up and down his arms. I'm curious about the young girl with a heavy backpack, wondering if she's a good student, and wonder what her favorite subject is (or if she even likes school at all). Maybe it's not even school books in her bag. Not that it matters. I create a reality for the elderly gentleman nearby, who is walking his yappy pomeranian and smoking his tobacco pipe. The scent vaguely reminds me of someone from my childhood that smoked a pipe, though I don't recall who. Again, it probably doesn't matter.
I used to walk all the time... it used to be my way of shutting my mind off getting away from bitterness or frustration or from situations that I didn't know how to handle. After a fight with a parent or a miserable breakup, I would throw on my shoes and head for the park near my house. The bike path cutting through it led all over the west side. Sometimes I'd end up over at the house I grew up in. Other times I'd get all the way to my old elementary school. I guess it depended on the time of day/night and how cold I was getting. At one point in high school, I bumped into another troubled soul who had also taken off from her house to get away from an argument with her parents. Just as I was entering the park I noticed her and said hi. We went to school together, but hadn't really said more than a few words to each other in two or three years. I was a bit of a jock/prep/nerd type, and she hung out more with the wannabe misfits who hung out in the smoke pit and talked about Curt Cobain and Jim Morrison and the idiotic nature of the popular kids. I didn't always have to make up personalities and worlds of other people... sometimes they revealed themselves to me.
So yesterday, I went for a walk. I put my headphones in and let my mind wander aimlessly to the violins that always linger in the background of Dave Matthews' music. I strolled a few blocks and turned a corner toward the nearby strip mall. My objective: coffee. And not just coffee... but a delicious toffee-nut Americano (with cream, of course... I drink baby coffee). After turning the corner and tapping my fingers to the music in my ears, I notice a police car parked a block up the road. Since it was sitting just outside a parking lot, it seemed out of place. After a few more steps, I saw the officer standing near the corner. No radio. No radar. Just standing. He was young... maybe 30, if that. Probably got stuck here doing some sort of traffic duty while the vets ate muffins at the station or were busy breaking down the doors of meth houses. This young guy was probably thinking he'd rather be writing parking tickets than standing on the side of some road looking lost. I kept on walking, knowing that he probably had everything under control, even though he looked thoroughly bored. As I got closer to the coffee shop, I noticed another police car, this time parked in an apartment parking lot. Two officers were sitting in the car. No one in the back. No radar. No lights. Just sitting. This is even more strange, I thought. But again, I kept walking.
After reaching my desired destination and acquiring my delicious caffeine jolt, I return on the same route I came. Still, the two officers sat in their car. No lights. No radar. And again I passed the young officer on the side of the road. No radio. No radar. An ambulance then passed by the both of us, but didn't stop and kept going past. Same with a firetruck, sirens blaring. We both watched and wondered what the destination was... who was in trouble. And the officer remained, checking his pockets for something. And I kept walking.
I got in the apartment a few minutes later, wondering if the officer had a girlfriend waiting for him at home. Maybe he has a small dog sleeping at the foot of the stairs, waiting for him. I took a drink of my coffee. His job could be dangerous. How long would the dog wait? Probably a long time. Forever, if it took that long. That's the nice thing about dogs... their loyalty doesn't wane. What about the girlfriend? Is she as understanding and patient about his chosen career? Maybe... it's hard to say.
- T
I used to walk all the time... it used to be my way of shutting my mind off getting away from bitterness or frustration or from situations that I didn't know how to handle. After a fight with a parent or a miserable breakup, I would throw on my shoes and head for the park near my house. The bike path cutting through it led all over the west side. Sometimes I'd end up over at the house I grew up in. Other times I'd get all the way to my old elementary school. I guess it depended on the time of day/night and how cold I was getting. At one point in high school, I bumped into another troubled soul who had also taken off from her house to get away from an argument with her parents. Just as I was entering the park I noticed her and said hi. We went to school together, but hadn't really said more than a few words to each other in two or three years. I was a bit of a jock/prep/nerd type, and she hung out more with the wannabe misfits who hung out in the smoke pit and talked about Curt Cobain and Jim Morrison and the idiotic nature of the popular kids. I didn't always have to make up personalities and worlds of other people... sometimes they revealed themselves to me.
So yesterday, I went for a walk. I put my headphones in and let my mind wander aimlessly to the violins that always linger in the background of Dave Matthews' music. I strolled a few blocks and turned a corner toward the nearby strip mall. My objective: coffee. And not just coffee... but a delicious toffee-nut Americano (with cream, of course... I drink baby coffee). After turning the corner and tapping my fingers to the music in my ears, I notice a police car parked a block up the road. Since it was sitting just outside a parking lot, it seemed out of place. After a few more steps, I saw the officer standing near the corner. No radio. No radar. Just standing. He was young... maybe 30, if that. Probably got stuck here doing some sort of traffic duty while the vets ate muffins at the station or were busy breaking down the doors of meth houses. This young guy was probably thinking he'd rather be writing parking tickets than standing on the side of some road looking lost. I kept on walking, knowing that he probably had everything under control, even though he looked thoroughly bored. As I got closer to the coffee shop, I noticed another police car, this time parked in an apartment parking lot. Two officers were sitting in the car. No one in the back. No radar. No lights. Just sitting. This is even more strange, I thought. But again, I kept walking.
After reaching my desired destination and acquiring my delicious caffeine jolt, I return on the same route I came. Still, the two officers sat in their car. No lights. No radar. And again I passed the young officer on the side of the road. No radio. No radar. An ambulance then passed by the both of us, but didn't stop and kept going past. Same with a firetruck, sirens blaring. We both watched and wondered what the destination was... who was in trouble. And the officer remained, checking his pockets for something. And I kept walking.
I got in the apartment a few minutes later, wondering if the officer had a girlfriend waiting for him at home. Maybe he has a small dog sleeping at the foot of the stairs, waiting for him. I took a drink of my coffee. His job could be dangerous. How long would the dog wait? Probably a long time. Forever, if it took that long. That's the nice thing about dogs... their loyalty doesn't wane. What about the girlfriend? Is she as understanding and patient about his chosen career? Maybe... it's hard to say.
- T
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
My love for all things Canadiana and reflections about home
Maple Syrup
Beavers
Sock&Sandal Hippies
The NDP
Gretzky
Curling
This Hour Has 22 Minutes
Don Cherry
Passive-Aggressive Politeness
Prairie
All these things make up something uniquely Canadian. Now, some people won't identify with the prairies, or they may have an aversion to maple syrup, or they may see Jack Layton as a communist conspirator. Nonetheless, these things combined create something uniquely Canadian, whether we admit it or not.
A few quotes from Will Ferguson's Why I Hate Canadians should be appropriate here...
"The border between Canada and the U.S. was forged in geography, trade routes, blood, war, threats and ultimatums. It was not a psychological yearning that kept us clinging to the border, it was the combined threat of frostbite and Manifest Destiny."
"Could Canadians have chosen a less inspiring emblem? The Russians have a bear, the Americans a bald eagle, the British a lion rampart - and Canada? Canada has a beaver. If you want to play a round of Could'a Had, the list is long. We could'a had a timber wolf. Or a polar bear. Or a bison. Or a lynx. Or even the conveniently named Canada goose. But no, we got stuck with a 30-kilogram, bucktoothed rodent whose most heroic trait is that he thinks to slap his tail to warn his buddies before he runs away."
One thing I noticed last night (that may or may not be unique to other parts of the world at night), is that Canadian towns all look the same on the drive through. I was out on the Westside last night hanging out with a few friends when I came through the city's downtown. For a few moments, I wasn't sure where I was. I saw the fast-food neons, vacancy signs, the obvious Wally's World (a.k.a. Walmart), and side streets that slipped quickly and quietly into the suburban neighbourhoods off the highway strip. It could have been Kamloops, or Regina, or Winnipeg. The annonymity was a bit overwhelming, as I rolled down my window and wondered when this place had become so strange but at the same time so familiar.
It is still strange to me why certain things feel like home. When I return back to Lethbridge, it's the coffee shop. The familiar trips across the river. It's the recognizable faces. It's the dogs greeting me at the door. My family, friends, former acquaintances. Ex-girlfriends, ex-teachers. But once again I wonder... what's changed? The town may have grown a bit, and the staff at the local grocery store has probably turned over a time or two. I used to wonder why everything didn't just look so different, but why it felt so strange. I think I realized that the scenery doesn't change... just the eyes do.
I think about the coast in the same manner, and I yearn for that sense of what I know. I knew the ferry schedule really well. I knew exactly how long the #14 bus took to get from the stop across from my apartment to the school, and what days I should make sure I'm early in case one is too full to pick me up. I knew that the Moka House in Cook Street Village was a place I could always go for an escape. Even though I knew people that frequented the shop from time to time, I also knew that I could preserve my annonymity through headphones and a quiet table in the corner. I could also enjoy the fact that downtown was a mere 10 minute walk, and if I needed a taste of the ocean, I just had to hop on my bike for 10 minutes for that much-needed indulgence. I've been here in the valley for more than six months, and I still don't know my way around. I don't have a hangout (other than my sponsor school), and I'm still not sure what the best way to get to downtown is. Much of this has to do with the fact that my schedule doesn't allow such indulgences right now, but I'm hoping that it'll come. I do like it here... but it's going to take some time for me to make it feel like home.
- T
Beavers
Sock&Sandal Hippies
The NDP
Gretzky
Curling
This Hour Has 22 Minutes
Don Cherry
Passive-Aggressive Politeness
Prairie
All these things make up something uniquely Canadian. Now, some people won't identify with the prairies, or they may have an aversion to maple syrup, or they may see Jack Layton as a communist conspirator. Nonetheless, these things combined create something uniquely Canadian, whether we admit it or not.
A few quotes from Will Ferguson's Why I Hate Canadians should be appropriate here...
"The border between Canada and the U.S. was forged in geography, trade routes, blood, war, threats and ultimatums. It was not a psychological yearning that kept us clinging to the border, it was the combined threat of frostbite and Manifest Destiny."
"Could Canadians have chosen a less inspiring emblem? The Russians have a bear, the Americans a bald eagle, the British a lion rampart - and Canada? Canada has a beaver. If you want to play a round of Could'a Had, the list is long. We could'a had a timber wolf. Or a polar bear. Or a bison. Or a lynx. Or even the conveniently named Canada goose. But no, we got stuck with a 30-kilogram, bucktoothed rodent whose most heroic trait is that he thinks to slap his tail to warn his buddies before he runs away."
One thing I noticed last night (that may or may not be unique to other parts of the world at night), is that Canadian towns all look the same on the drive through. I was out on the Westside last night hanging out with a few friends when I came through the city's downtown. For a few moments, I wasn't sure where I was. I saw the fast-food neons, vacancy signs, the obvious Wally's World (a.k.a. Walmart), and side streets that slipped quickly and quietly into the suburban neighbourhoods off the highway strip. It could have been Kamloops, or Regina, or Winnipeg. The annonymity was a bit overwhelming, as I rolled down my window and wondered when this place had become so strange but at the same time so familiar.
It is still strange to me why certain things feel like home. When I return back to Lethbridge, it's the coffee shop. The familiar trips across the river. It's the recognizable faces. It's the dogs greeting me at the door. My family, friends, former acquaintances. Ex-girlfriends, ex-teachers. But once again I wonder... what's changed? The town may have grown a bit, and the staff at the local grocery store has probably turned over a time or two. I used to wonder why everything didn't just look so different, but why it felt so strange. I think I realized that the scenery doesn't change... just the eyes do.
I think about the coast in the same manner, and I yearn for that sense of what I know. I knew the ferry schedule really well. I knew exactly how long the #14 bus took to get from the stop across from my apartment to the school, and what days I should make sure I'm early in case one is too full to pick me up. I knew that the Moka House in Cook Street Village was a place I could always go for an escape. Even though I knew people that frequented the shop from time to time, I also knew that I could preserve my annonymity through headphones and a quiet table in the corner. I could also enjoy the fact that downtown was a mere 10 minute walk, and if I needed a taste of the ocean, I just had to hop on my bike for 10 minutes for that much-needed indulgence. I've been here in the valley for more than six months, and I still don't know my way around. I don't have a hangout (other than my sponsor school), and I'm still not sure what the best way to get to downtown is. Much of this has to do with the fact that my schedule doesn't allow such indulgences right now, but I'm hoping that it'll come. I do like it here... but it's going to take some time for me to make it feel like home.
- T
Friday, March 09, 2007
Oh, Happy Day
And I'm not talking about the old gospel tune.
Today is the day in every teacher's life that is just a little more bearable, more enjoyable, more glorious than other days past. No, it is not simply that it is Friday, although Friday is a wonderful thing on it's own. No, I'm talking about the final day before HOLIDAYS! Spring Break starts at 3:14 today, and I may be just the slightest bit excited. Maybe.
As per usual, things have been crazy lately. Luckily, I think they're going to be a bit more under control from this point forward (I hope) since I don't have any more coaching clinics to attend and there's only 5 more weeks of practicum time before I'm fully certified. Sure, I have to stay on until the end of the year so I can still keep teaching one class "in the spirit of volunteerism", but certification is coming oh-so-soon, and I'm just that much closer to being able to actually make a bit of money at this teaching gig. Not that I'm in it for the money, because if I am, I should go back to school and reacquire some math skills.
The sun was even shining over the valley this morning, which must be a positive omen.
Other things that have been going on:
- I met Paul Yee, a Governor-General award winning writer who came to our school a week ago for a presentation
- I finished my interim report for part one of the second practicum session I'm doing. It went well, but I still have some things to nail down before I'm approved as an excellent candidate for a teaching job next year.
- Now that the weather is better, I hate the fact that I'm not allowed to Barbeque on my deck.
And that's about all... I'll try to come up with something brilliant as time goes on.
-T
Today is the day in every teacher's life that is just a little more bearable, more enjoyable, more glorious than other days past. No, it is not simply that it is Friday, although Friday is a wonderful thing on it's own. No, I'm talking about the final day before HOLIDAYS! Spring Break starts at 3:14 today, and I may be just the slightest bit excited. Maybe.
As per usual, things have been crazy lately. Luckily, I think they're going to be a bit more under control from this point forward (I hope) since I don't have any more coaching clinics to attend and there's only 5 more weeks of practicum time before I'm fully certified. Sure, I have to stay on until the end of the year so I can still keep teaching one class "in the spirit of volunteerism", but certification is coming oh-so-soon, and I'm just that much closer to being able to actually make a bit of money at this teaching gig. Not that I'm in it for the money, because if I am, I should go back to school and reacquire some math skills.
The sun was even shining over the valley this morning, which must be a positive omen.
Other things that have been going on:
- I met Paul Yee, a Governor-General award winning writer who came to our school a week ago for a presentation
- I finished my interim report for part one of the second practicum session I'm doing. It went well, but I still have some things to nail down before I'm approved as an excellent candidate for a teaching job next year.
- Now that the weather is better, I hate the fact that I'm not allowed to Barbeque on my deck.
And that's about all... I'll try to come up with something brilliant as time goes on.
-T
Friday, March 02, 2007
A few things mashed into one...
I was having a conversation with one of my sponsor teachers the other day, and she asked me to come up with my own list of what went well in the class and what I need to work on. As the term's progressed, this has been the strategy for her... moving away from her advice and criticism to a place where I can come up with my own ideas of being self-aware and self-critical. After filling out about three items in the "recommendations" column, I stared blankly at the "commendations" column. I tensed up, my eyes were getting a bit glassy, and I couldn't come up with a single thing to put in the positive column.
Now, it wasn't that it was a terrible day. I think it was simply... how do I say it... uninspiring. Lately, I've been dealing with the pressures of a boatload of marking, upcoming interim marks (both for my students and the second part of my practicum), getting ready to apply for certification, thinking about getting my resume together, beginning my unit planning for after Spring Break, spending time with Kerrie, coaching 2-3 days a week, and the list seems to go on and on for a long time. I've also been fighting off the early stages of a cold for nearly a week, and although I've been getting some sleep, it just hasn't felt like enough. I don't usually have really bad days... lately they have just been lacking epiphanies and inspiring feelings that I'm changing the world. She made a comment about pessimism and optimism, and how I'd been in the bottom of a whisky bottle if I didn't learn to positively self-reflect. And not grandpa's good whisky, either.
Every once in a while I get thinking about what I was like as a kid. I remember being goofy, but the amount of specific events I recall seem to be pretty sporadic. I have a sister that has the most creative memory on the planet and she claims she remembers all sorts of things that no one else can vouch for.
I remember thinking I was going to be a lawyer when I was in my early teens. I was really into Grisham novels and wanted nothing more than to save the world through my cunning intellect and saavy nature. I also considered being a psychologist, since I was a bit of a go-to guy for friends when they needed a shoulder. Early in university, I considered entering the philosophy and religious studies department to be a scholar of sorts. Anyone who knows me well has probably shared an extended, long-winded discussion with me about religion and philosophy in some form or another. Most recently (before getting into education), I thought my life was going to be in publishing or writing, since I originally moved out to the coast with ambitions of entering the creative writing program. However, I didn't declare a major when I first moved and all the spots for the intro writing classes were taken by creative writing majors. So, I went into English Lit. And four years later, here I am.
Don't get me wrong... I 'm definitely not complaining, because I really enjoyed my degree and my time out in Victoria. If my collective families were closer to the coast, K and I probably would've stayed (minus the fact she hated being on an island). Even when I was in high school and early university, I joked about the fact that I wasn't going to get married for a LONG time, likely in my 30's. Now, I'm the first of my friend group from high school to get married and the third out of my university friends. It's funny how life works out, and how we can have all the expectations and plans we want, but life takes it's own route.
I think reflective people are fatalists by nature. They look back on their lives, and have a hard time imagining how it could be any different. I go in and out of phases of fatalistism. Sometimes life seems so ordered. When looking back, it's hard to imagine how things could be different. But looking ahead... who knows? I'm sure I've quoted him before, but that C.S. Lewis guy is pretty clever...
"For the longest way round is the shortest way home".
- t
Now, it wasn't that it was a terrible day. I think it was simply... how do I say it... uninspiring. Lately, I've been dealing with the pressures of a boatload of marking, upcoming interim marks (both for my students and the second part of my practicum), getting ready to apply for certification, thinking about getting my resume together, beginning my unit planning for after Spring Break, spending time with Kerrie, coaching 2-3 days a week, and the list seems to go on and on for a long time. I've also been fighting off the early stages of a cold for nearly a week, and although I've been getting some sleep, it just hasn't felt like enough. I don't usually have really bad days... lately they have just been lacking epiphanies and inspiring feelings that I'm changing the world. She made a comment about pessimism and optimism, and how I'd been in the bottom of a whisky bottle if I didn't learn to positively self-reflect. And not grandpa's good whisky, either.
Every once in a while I get thinking about what I was like as a kid. I remember being goofy, but the amount of specific events I recall seem to be pretty sporadic. I have a sister that has the most creative memory on the planet and she claims she remembers all sorts of things that no one else can vouch for.
I remember thinking I was going to be a lawyer when I was in my early teens. I was really into Grisham novels and wanted nothing more than to save the world through my cunning intellect and saavy nature. I also considered being a psychologist, since I was a bit of a go-to guy for friends when they needed a shoulder. Early in university, I considered entering the philosophy and religious studies department to be a scholar of sorts. Anyone who knows me well has probably shared an extended, long-winded discussion with me about religion and philosophy in some form or another. Most recently (before getting into education), I thought my life was going to be in publishing or writing, since I originally moved out to the coast with ambitions of entering the creative writing program. However, I didn't declare a major when I first moved and all the spots for the intro writing classes were taken by creative writing majors. So, I went into English Lit. And four years later, here I am.
Don't get me wrong... I 'm definitely not complaining, because I really enjoyed my degree and my time out in Victoria. If my collective families were closer to the coast, K and I probably would've stayed (minus the fact she hated being on an island). Even when I was in high school and early university, I joked about the fact that I wasn't going to get married for a LONG time, likely in my 30's. Now, I'm the first of my friend group from high school to get married and the third out of my university friends. It's funny how life works out, and how we can have all the expectations and plans we want, but life takes it's own route.
I think reflective people are fatalists by nature. They look back on their lives, and have a hard time imagining how it could be any different. I go in and out of phases of fatalistism. Sometimes life seems so ordered. When looking back, it's hard to imagine how things could be different. But looking ahead... who knows? I'm sure I've quoted him before, but that C.S. Lewis guy is pretty clever...
"For the longest way round is the shortest way home".
- t
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)