The metaphor of reading a book and closing it's cover is definitely overused. However, it's used often because it seems so suitable. Just like the seasons, all things come to an end.
I have exactly 10 days of teaching left before final exams arrive for my classes. Therefore, each block of students only has 5 remaining classes until they are completely finished for the year (other than the final exam the following week). Not only is this ending, but so is rec volleyball (playoffs are on Wednesday) as it my training for my 25k trail race (takes place Saturday). By the time July hits, my weekly schedule will be blank. In many ways, it makes me sad... but in many ways, it can't come soon enough. I'm exhausted quite regularly, my marking pile never seems to disappear, and there's always some student problem to fix. Also, it seems like when I'm in the house, K isn't and vice versa and now that she's re-starting cardio bootcamp on Monday, she'll be starting up her busyness (not to mention her new job starts the same day).
I guess we're in a time of flux... we've become distant with the craziness of late, but I can only hope that summer brings sunshine, walks in the parks, and some time to find each other again. Sometimes it's just too easy to lose touch with everything important in life because we get so busy, well, living. Bring me the sunshiney days and starry nights and the loving eyes of the one I love.
T
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The myth of stupid questions
As a teacher, I feel as though I need to clarify the age-old idea of "there are no stupid questions".
My response to this? It's B.S. Why do I think that? Let me tell you (in a round-about way that comes back to the question later...
Students can be lazy. No, not all students, and no, not all the time. But quite often, they're lazy. They want the teacher to do the work FOR them. They want to sit back and "learn" everything through some miraculous form of osmosis I've never encountered... it's like they'd be a great audience for that sort of hypnotic-like sleep learning where you play a CD with information on it while you sleep and when you awake... EUREKA! Brains!
I got in an argument with a student a few months ago about something similar. Yes, I realize that, as the adult in the situation, I should not argue with students. However, she insisted. She was upset that I was unfairly negative to her in class, and that I was always telling her that she was wrong. There was a long history of encounters behind this, but this was definitely one of them. And the thing is: I didn't deny it.
The reason I didn't deny it was because she was CONSTANTLY wrong. Or, at least off-topic. And I'm not the type of person to say that it might be her interpretation and that's fine, but I was looking for something else... I'm a bit more blunt as I want them to understand that it was a myth to believe that anything can be interpreted in any way and, in reality, there are a finite number of ways we can interpret literature. She didn't really appreciate this academic perspective and simply thought I was being "mean".
I'd ask a question about a topic and she'd put up her hand. When I called on her for a response, she'd often get away from the textual discussion at hand and dive into a personal tirade on what she believed. Now, I'm all for having beliefs... but they have their place, and the academic environment of literary analysis isn't it.
An example would go as follows: I begin to make a point that physical descriptions of characters in stories DO NOT dictate WHO the characters are or necessarily what they are like. Just because the character has blonde hair does not mean that the character has any characteristics that only blondes hold (Disclaimer: I'm very aware that some authors do, in fact, utilize physical descriptions in order to develop a certain facet of a personality. William Golding does this shamelessly in Lord of the Flies). However, I wanted to make the point that when we discuss character in a story, the physical description is generally meaningless unless the author intentionally connects the two. In essence, it was a discussion about stereotyping and unfair assumptions being made without evidence to support it, which is a much more universal lesson than they realize... we, as readers must rely on evidence from three main sources: what the character says, how the character acts, and what the other characters (or the narrator) say about the character in question.
I connected this to our real lives... I made a comment that, "Just because Joe-Blow dyes his hair doesn't mean I can assume anything about his personlity. I could, but I would be working on stereotypical assumptions. This is the same as saying this: Bobby-Lou has blonde hair so she must be unintelligent." So, my little friend put up her hand and said, "If you knew Joe-Blow, you'd know that the dye-job DOES say something about him." I conceded the fact that this was wholly possible, just like blonde girls can be unintelligent and skinny guys with glasses can be interested in Friday nights spent working out mathematical equations. I explained, though, that in literary analysis we cannot assume this and we MUST focus on evidence from the text. The same goes for life.
Did she just let it go? Nope. She kept on going. She explained that she could tell things about people by the way they dressed. I explained to her that she was starting to get away from the point and the whole problem with stereotypes is that they're often inaccurate or completely untrue. Did this deter her? Not a chance. She kept going, trying to convince me that everyone is limited to how they dress in her mind, so she should be able to talk about it in her paragraph. Just to be able to move on, I pointed out that the fact that she was simply wrong because it was a superficial assumption and she simply couldn't do so, especially in a liteary response. Her response? She got upset and started making rude comments about me to her friend.
There was also an essay written about a moral dilemma... we'd talked about moral dilemmas in a short story and then I gave them a news article, asking them if the man in the article SHOULD have received a reduced sentence in jail for carrying out a mercy killing on his daughter who suffered from cerebral palsy, constant pain, and had the developmental capacity of a three-month old (she was 12). In her essay, she made countless errors in various areas, and ended off by saying, "I know [the daughter] would have been sad to see her dad go to jail. And I know that God would have forgiven him, so why can't the government?" I explained that these personal assumptions were fine to hold in her own worldview, but their overtly personal and unfounded nature had no place in a formal persuasive essay. Her response? I was unfair and she could believe that if she wanted. Again, there was a complete disconnect between what the expectation of the assignment was and my explanation of instructions, and what she wanted to say and believe. This was only one episode out of many (so don't assume that I overreacted in one isolated situation), and although I could've borne a single confrontation, repeated challenges of this sort without a sincere interest in actually improving and understanding the perspective of the other person deflate me to the point where I find that I lose all patience in the matter.
It got me thinking about a lot of things, and frustrated me to no end. It made me realize that some kids don't want to learn or understand or improve their skills... they simply want someone to take their word for it... they don't understand that without an interest in understanding and learning from their mistakes (and they do, in fact, make many mistakes), they just won't improve and succeed.
This brings me the long way around to the quote I put up on the board in my room (I have a whiteboard behind my desk that I fill up with quotes about various things from famous people)...
"Some say that there are no stupid questions, but we must be quick to see the flaw in such reasoning... unless the question is asked with a sincere interest in the pursuit of truth and knowledge, all questions find futility."
I didn't attribute the quote to anyone, which surprisingly made the words garner more interest than most of my other quotes. A few students asked who said it... I simply responded with the question of, "what do you think?" Most said they liked it, and only then did I attribute the saying to someone... me (yes... this is a shameless celebration of my nugget of wisdom. Just passing it on)
:)
T
My response to this? It's B.S. Why do I think that? Let me tell you (in a round-about way that comes back to the question later...
Students can be lazy. No, not all students, and no, not all the time. But quite often, they're lazy. They want the teacher to do the work FOR them. They want to sit back and "learn" everything through some miraculous form of osmosis I've never encountered... it's like they'd be a great audience for that sort of hypnotic-like sleep learning where you play a CD with information on it while you sleep and when you awake... EUREKA! Brains!
I got in an argument with a student a few months ago about something similar. Yes, I realize that, as the adult in the situation, I should not argue with students. However, she insisted. She was upset that I was unfairly negative to her in class, and that I was always telling her that she was wrong. There was a long history of encounters behind this, but this was definitely one of them. And the thing is: I didn't deny it.
The reason I didn't deny it was because she was CONSTANTLY wrong. Or, at least off-topic. And I'm not the type of person to say that it might be her interpretation and that's fine, but I was looking for something else... I'm a bit more blunt as I want them to understand that it was a myth to believe that anything can be interpreted in any way and, in reality, there are a finite number of ways we can interpret literature. She didn't really appreciate this academic perspective and simply thought I was being "mean".
I'd ask a question about a topic and she'd put up her hand. When I called on her for a response, she'd often get away from the textual discussion at hand and dive into a personal tirade on what she believed. Now, I'm all for having beliefs... but they have their place, and the academic environment of literary analysis isn't it.
An example would go as follows: I begin to make a point that physical descriptions of characters in stories DO NOT dictate WHO the characters are or necessarily what they are like. Just because the character has blonde hair does not mean that the character has any characteristics that only blondes hold (Disclaimer: I'm very aware that some authors do, in fact, utilize physical descriptions in order to develop a certain facet of a personality. William Golding does this shamelessly in Lord of the Flies). However, I wanted to make the point that when we discuss character in a story, the physical description is generally meaningless unless the author intentionally connects the two. In essence, it was a discussion about stereotyping and unfair assumptions being made without evidence to support it, which is a much more universal lesson than they realize... we, as readers must rely on evidence from three main sources: what the character says, how the character acts, and what the other characters (or the narrator) say about the character in question.
I connected this to our real lives... I made a comment that, "Just because Joe-Blow dyes his hair doesn't mean I can assume anything about his personlity. I could, but I would be working on stereotypical assumptions. This is the same as saying this: Bobby-Lou has blonde hair so she must be unintelligent." So, my little friend put up her hand and said, "If you knew Joe-Blow, you'd know that the dye-job DOES say something about him." I conceded the fact that this was wholly possible, just like blonde girls can be unintelligent and skinny guys with glasses can be interested in Friday nights spent working out mathematical equations. I explained, though, that in literary analysis we cannot assume this and we MUST focus on evidence from the text. The same goes for life.
Did she just let it go? Nope. She kept on going. She explained that she could tell things about people by the way they dressed. I explained to her that she was starting to get away from the point and the whole problem with stereotypes is that they're often inaccurate or completely untrue. Did this deter her? Not a chance. She kept going, trying to convince me that everyone is limited to how they dress in her mind, so she should be able to talk about it in her paragraph. Just to be able to move on, I pointed out that the fact that she was simply wrong because it was a superficial assumption and she simply couldn't do so, especially in a liteary response. Her response? She got upset and started making rude comments about me to her friend.
There was also an essay written about a moral dilemma... we'd talked about moral dilemmas in a short story and then I gave them a news article, asking them if the man in the article SHOULD have received a reduced sentence in jail for carrying out a mercy killing on his daughter who suffered from cerebral palsy, constant pain, and had the developmental capacity of a three-month old (she was 12). In her essay, she made countless errors in various areas, and ended off by saying, "I know [the daughter] would have been sad to see her dad go to jail. And I know that God would have forgiven him, so why can't the government?" I explained that these personal assumptions were fine to hold in her own worldview, but their overtly personal and unfounded nature had no place in a formal persuasive essay. Her response? I was unfair and she could believe that if she wanted. Again, there was a complete disconnect between what the expectation of the assignment was and my explanation of instructions, and what she wanted to say and believe. This was only one episode out of many (so don't assume that I overreacted in one isolated situation), and although I could've borne a single confrontation, repeated challenges of this sort without a sincere interest in actually improving and understanding the perspective of the other person deflate me to the point where I find that I lose all patience in the matter.
It got me thinking about a lot of things, and frustrated me to no end. It made me realize that some kids don't want to learn or understand or improve their skills... they simply want someone to take their word for it... they don't understand that without an interest in understanding and learning from their mistakes (and they do, in fact, make many mistakes), they just won't improve and succeed.
This brings me the long way around to the quote I put up on the board in my room (I have a whiteboard behind my desk that I fill up with quotes about various things from famous people)...
"Some say that there are no stupid questions, but we must be quick to see the flaw in such reasoning... unless the question is asked with a sincere interest in the pursuit of truth and knowledge, all questions find futility."
I didn't attribute the quote to anyone, which surprisingly made the words garner more interest than most of my other quotes. A few students asked who said it... I simply responded with the question of, "what do you think?" Most said they liked it, and only then did I attribute the saying to someone... me (yes... this is a shameless celebration of my nugget of wisdom. Just passing it on)
:)
T
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Days
I know pretty much nothing about Einstein's Theory of Relativity. However, I think today is one of those days that proves his theory. The influence of emotion and sensation on the human experience determines time, determines space, and so many other things. In all reality, it determines life. Today drags, and continues, and meanders miserably and slowly into the grey, overcast, Tuesday afternoon. The end of work signals nothing more than a transition to something else, but but the transition will only bring more slow movement... more silent voids.
Only anxiety remains strong.
T
Only anxiety remains strong.
T
Monday, May 19, 2008
The (in)ability to embrace uncertainty
Some days, I feel like a walking paradox. I need structure, but I rail against it. I need certainty, but I provide myself and others with none. I often despise ambiguity and just want it told to me straight, but I, myself, am ambiguous and ambivalent and I don't know what to do about it. I need control, but give it up to others regularly. I can take charge, but I don't mind being the sheep. I thrive in the quiet, but idleness makes me crazy. And I want patience from others, but I fail to be patient myself.
The previous few months have shown me exactly this. My last post likely hinted at it. I get inside my head and become trapped, uncertain, scratching to escape. I know I need to let go of things, but I hold on to them greedily, like a rottweiler. Can it be that I hold the key to my own imprisonment? If so, why do I insist on hiding my mode of escape?
I realize this is clear as mud and likely makes little sense to the three friends who continue to indulge this wholly egotistical practice of blogging, but we all need an outlet. Running has been one of the latest outlets, but I can only run so far and so long before body gives out and my mind remains. But the impulse to write stays strong, just as it did when I was just an angsty teen looking for an argument or some way to engage with the world around me. So I guess I'll keep on writing and trying to figure out my life. Pen to paper, foot to pavement... question to question to question...
T
The previous few months have shown me exactly this. My last post likely hinted at it. I get inside my head and become trapped, uncertain, scratching to escape. I know I need to let go of things, but I hold on to them greedily, like a rottweiler. Can it be that I hold the key to my own imprisonment? If so, why do I insist on hiding my mode of escape?
I realize this is clear as mud and likely makes little sense to the three friends who continue to indulge this wholly egotistical practice of blogging, but we all need an outlet. Running has been one of the latest outlets, but I can only run so far and so long before body gives out and my mind remains. But the impulse to write stays strong, just as it did when I was just an angsty teen looking for an argument or some way to engage with the world around me. So I guess I'll keep on writing and trying to figure out my life. Pen to paper, foot to pavement... question to question to question...
T
Monday, May 12, 2008
The pursuit of tangibility
I have a fundamental flaw in my ability to believe. I'm a skeptic… a cynic… a person who is often unwilling to take things at face value. I need proof… something tangible I can hold in my hand, hold up against a light, sink my teeth into in order to prove its validity and value. At the end of the day I need something I can grab onto without doubt… if doubt exists for any reason, I may release it unto its own accord. Show me God and I will show you faith. Aye… but there's the rub.
How can any man believe without seeing… trust without knowing for certain? I need to see… to trust… to be shown. But what of faith? By definition, faith is not something proven, but something trusted without this structure… without proof… without the solid foundation of tangibility. It lies outside the human sensory experience and must exist intellectually. It is a time where we must abandon the "seeing is believing" mentality to dive head-first into the pool that is faith. Herein lies the problem. My problem? What if my pool of faith is too shallow for such diving? What if I feel as though my pool has been tainted… how does it become clean? I'm not sure if this will make sense, but is it even possible to taint such a pool? Is it possible to drain such a sea?
Not only do I feel a need for tangible proof in anything deemed suspicious or uncertain, but other areas of my neediness have created problems in my relationships as well. I'm quick to trust, but also quick to be cautious. I'm quick to love, but also quick to be critical. I give much of myself, but I also need reinforcement and support. It's like I'm extremely willing to empty the contents of my cup, but I'm also quick to need it refilled in return. I am not so selfless that I can give without receiving… I'm not referring to goods and things, but emotional needs. I give, but I must also get.
How do we go about releasing the anxiety related to losing sight of our faith to return to a place where faith is regained or rediscovered? I guess this is my path… my journey.
As C.S. Lewis said, "For the longest way round is the shortest way home."
T
How can any man believe without seeing… trust without knowing for certain? I need to see… to trust… to be shown. But what of faith? By definition, faith is not something proven, but something trusted without this structure… without proof… without the solid foundation of tangibility. It lies outside the human sensory experience and must exist intellectually. It is a time where we must abandon the "seeing is believing" mentality to dive head-first into the pool that is faith. Herein lies the problem. My problem? What if my pool of faith is too shallow for such diving? What if I feel as though my pool has been tainted… how does it become clean? I'm not sure if this will make sense, but is it even possible to taint such a pool? Is it possible to drain such a sea?
Not only do I feel a need for tangible proof in anything deemed suspicious or uncertain, but other areas of my neediness have created problems in my relationships as well. I'm quick to trust, but also quick to be cautious. I'm quick to love, but also quick to be critical. I give much of myself, but I also need reinforcement and support. It's like I'm extremely willing to empty the contents of my cup, but I'm also quick to need it refilled in return. I am not so selfless that I can give without receiving… I'm not referring to goods and things, but emotional needs. I give, but I must also get.
How do we go about releasing the anxiety related to losing sight of our faith to return to a place where faith is regained or rediscovered? I guess this is my path… my journey.
As C.S. Lewis said, "For the longest way round is the shortest way home."
T
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Fighting the rain
The forecast wasn't wonderful. Leaving the house at 6:30am, I knew the cosmos may not conspire to give us sunshine, but I guess they were willing to conspire in one way. How was I to know that the conspiracy would feature rain and wind and more rain?
I shook out the nerves I was feeling as the race approached. After reaching the destination and hopping on the bus out to the start line, I could feel the nervous butterflies beating actively in my gut. "There's nothing to be nervous about... this is just for fun." It's funny how there are things you know... but all the knowing in the world can't help you shake the fact that you feel something else, contradictory and completely unavoidable.
We arrived and hopped off the bus, and I noticed that although it was obviously overcast and a bit chilly, rain was absent. It was dry on this part of the road, so I thought maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be too bad. I saw our fearless leader... the man who has been running my training clinic for the past few months, and you could sense the excitment in him. This was just another day on the road for him... another day to strap on the shoes and give 'er. I could sense his relaxation and thought again that there's nothing to be nervous about... just put one foot in front of the other and you'll be fine.
The race began and the action plan went through the window. I planned to start off at a slow pace... barely a jog, and pick it up a bit each kilometre. Unfortunately, my feet had other plans and within a minute I was striding at my typical pace comfortably. I knew this may not be the best idea, but sometimes I just let the feet do the talking. I'd never run a road race of this distance before, but I wasn't about to get in an argument with the things that were getting me home. I shut out the intimidation of the uber-runners with their fancy gear and years of experience, and simply put rubber to the pavement.
A few minutes later, the sky started changing and soon it was spitting. And the wind picked up slightly. And the spitting trickle turned into a more intense spray. And the spray turned into rain. By mile four, I was soaked. By mile five, I could hear sloshing in my shoes. And by mile six, I could feel my jacket collecting rain and become more heavy and begin to slowly shred my nipples, a layer of skin at a time. Because of this predicament, off came the jacket. But then it was cold. But at least my shirt wasn't moving around... I'd rather feel the slapping of my wet jacket against my legs than the uncomfortable burning sensation on my sensitive parts.
Needless to say, I slogged through the final four miles in some discomfort. I haven't discovered the joy of bodyglide quite yet, but an investment will be made soon. I ended up running the race in a respectable time (1:18:50), but I'm paying for it... sore chest (bleedy nipples), lower-back chafing, and some mild leg pain from I-have-no-idea what. But it's over and done with and I happy to say I did it. The route featured some fantastic scenery and I was pleased with my performance... my breathing and gait were contolled, the hills didn't bother me, and I think if the weather was better, I may have shaved off a number of minutes from my time. But, a pancake breakfast and some dry clothes at the finish did well to soothe the discomfort. Mmmm... pancakes.
I have another 5 weeks to go until the race I'm actually prepping for. I'm still somewhat scared because it's much longer (more than 1/2 marathon length), and there's a tonne of hills, but it should be a good test for me. And should be something I can be proud of for a while to come (as long as I don't die). I'd spend more time explaining my plans, but I've got a leg to ice.
T
I shook out the nerves I was feeling as the race approached. After reaching the destination and hopping on the bus out to the start line, I could feel the nervous butterflies beating actively in my gut. "There's nothing to be nervous about... this is just for fun." It's funny how there are things you know... but all the knowing in the world can't help you shake the fact that you feel something else, contradictory and completely unavoidable.
We arrived and hopped off the bus, and I noticed that although it was obviously overcast and a bit chilly, rain was absent. It was dry on this part of the road, so I thought maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be too bad. I saw our fearless leader... the man who has been running my training clinic for the past few months, and you could sense the excitment in him. This was just another day on the road for him... another day to strap on the shoes and give 'er. I could sense his relaxation and thought again that there's nothing to be nervous about... just put one foot in front of the other and you'll be fine.
The race began and the action plan went through the window. I planned to start off at a slow pace... barely a jog, and pick it up a bit each kilometre. Unfortunately, my feet had other plans and within a minute I was striding at my typical pace comfortably. I knew this may not be the best idea, but sometimes I just let the feet do the talking. I'd never run a road race of this distance before, but I wasn't about to get in an argument with the things that were getting me home. I shut out the intimidation of the uber-runners with their fancy gear and years of experience, and simply put rubber to the pavement.
A few minutes later, the sky started changing and soon it was spitting. And the wind picked up slightly. And the spitting trickle turned into a more intense spray. And the spray turned into rain. By mile four, I was soaked. By mile five, I could hear sloshing in my shoes. And by mile six, I could feel my jacket collecting rain and become more heavy and begin to slowly shred my nipples, a layer of skin at a time. Because of this predicament, off came the jacket. But then it was cold. But at least my shirt wasn't moving around... I'd rather feel the slapping of my wet jacket against my legs than the uncomfortable burning sensation on my sensitive parts.
Needless to say, I slogged through the final four miles in some discomfort. I haven't discovered the joy of bodyglide quite yet, but an investment will be made soon. I ended up running the race in a respectable time (1:18:50), but I'm paying for it... sore chest (bleedy nipples), lower-back chafing, and some mild leg pain from I-have-no-idea what. But it's over and done with and I happy to say I did it. The route featured some fantastic scenery and I was pleased with my performance... my breathing and gait were contolled, the hills didn't bother me, and I think if the weather was better, I may have shaved off a number of minutes from my time. But, a pancake breakfast and some dry clothes at the finish did well to soothe the discomfort. Mmmm... pancakes.
I have another 5 weeks to go until the race I'm actually prepping for. I'm still somewhat scared because it's much longer (more than 1/2 marathon length), and there's a tonne of hills, but it should be a good test for me. And should be something I can be proud of for a while to come (as long as I don't die). I'd spend more time explaining my plans, but I've got a leg to ice.
T
Monday, May 05, 2008
Although I knew it had been looming...
... the anniversary has passed. This is a post from just over a year ago, when I lost one of my students from my practicum school.
RIP K.L.
T
RIP K.L.
T
The world of anxiety
It's that time of year again... posting season.
For the non-teachers out there, it is a time of importance only in the areas of getting outside and enjoying fresh air. Sure, for some it is the stressful time of tax season (or the release of stress post-tax-season), but for most persons in Canada, it's just a newly sunny time of year.
For new teachers, though, it's a time of year that is met with a combination of dread and excitement. When I say "posting", I mean the posting of new job opportunities. Gaaa!
Last week it began. It always starts with a round of jobs posted for those who already have (or are in a seniority level where they can apply for) continuing positions in this district. Many of these jobs have certain people in mind, and are posted in such a way that very few people (other than the anticipated prospect) would have the qualifications to take on the role. Examples are similar to this: "Secondary School looking for a qualified individual who can teach the following: senior English, Social Studies, Dance and Psychology". Or... "Senior Math teacher needed who can also teach Physical Education and Foods". Some are simply retirements and people leaving the district, but even those often have a certain someone special in mind.
Realistically, most people aren't qualified in all these random areas and the people that may be qualified are likely not interested in teaching such a smorgasboard of classes. However, the one person who the administrators have in mind IS looking for exactly this job, particularly since it's unlikely that all the necessary qualifications may not be needed when the teaching schedule gets finalized over the summer or early in the fall. Playing politics, people... that's what it is.
The problem with such a system is two-fold: A) You have to be willing to play into the system by doing a bit of sucking up and self-selling... and, B) you must rank high enough on the ladder to actually have the possibility of playing such games. I, my friends, have no such luck. I'm at the bottom of the pole. So, until the leftovers are offered to the non-humans (A.K.A. those without any seniority status), I will be waiting in painful agony for news about work. Likely, it'll be June 23rd before I hear anything solid. Until then, it's all just rumours and hopeful expectations.
On a brighter note (read two ways!), I'm running in a 10-Miler race down in the southern Okanagan on Sunday! It should be lots of fun and good opportunity to see how I do when I'm pushing myself a little bit. I haven't been doing any real road-running as of late, so this'll be a bit of a challenge. Still, there should be a handful of the runners from the running clinic participating, and it's a small crowd that participates. K won't be tagging along because she's abandoning me tomorrow to head down to sunny California with her mom for a family wedding. She's gone until Sunday afternoon, so I'll be zipping down to the Skaha region, running my race, and zipping back before she flies in (as long as I don't die on the course!). While she's gone, I'm going to be a busy boy... volleyball, running, a potluck, a birthday party... oh, and I guess a bit of teaching too... so much to do in so little time!
Hopefully I can actually get some sleep tonight so I'm not a total wreck for the rest of the week. As we all know, though, hope is a feathered thing my friends, so I guess we'll just have to see how it all comes out in the wash.
T
For the non-teachers out there, it is a time of importance only in the areas of getting outside and enjoying fresh air. Sure, for some it is the stressful time of tax season (or the release of stress post-tax-season), but for most persons in Canada, it's just a newly sunny time of year.
For new teachers, though, it's a time of year that is met with a combination of dread and excitement. When I say "posting", I mean the posting of new job opportunities. Gaaa!
Last week it began. It always starts with a round of jobs posted for those who already have (or are in a seniority level where they can apply for) continuing positions in this district. Many of these jobs have certain people in mind, and are posted in such a way that very few people (other than the anticipated prospect) would have the qualifications to take on the role. Examples are similar to this: "Secondary School looking for a qualified individual who can teach the following: senior English, Social Studies, Dance and Psychology". Or... "Senior Math teacher needed who can also teach Physical Education and Foods". Some are simply retirements and people leaving the district, but even those often have a certain someone special in mind.
Realistically, most people aren't qualified in all these random areas and the people that may be qualified are likely not interested in teaching such a smorgasboard of classes. However, the one person who the administrators have in mind IS looking for exactly this job, particularly since it's unlikely that all the necessary qualifications may not be needed when the teaching schedule gets finalized over the summer or early in the fall. Playing politics, people... that's what it is.
The problem with such a system is two-fold: A) You have to be willing to play into the system by doing a bit of sucking up and self-selling... and, B) you must rank high enough on the ladder to actually have the possibility of playing such games. I, my friends, have no such luck. I'm at the bottom of the pole. So, until the leftovers are offered to the non-humans (A.K.A. those without any seniority status), I will be waiting in painful agony for news about work. Likely, it'll be June 23rd before I hear anything solid. Until then, it's all just rumours and hopeful expectations.
On a brighter note (read two ways!), I'm running in a 10-Miler race down in the southern Okanagan on Sunday! It should be lots of fun and good opportunity to see how I do when I'm pushing myself a little bit. I haven't been doing any real road-running as of late, so this'll be a bit of a challenge. Still, there should be a handful of the runners from the running clinic participating, and it's a small crowd that participates. K won't be tagging along because she's abandoning me tomorrow to head down to sunny California with her mom for a family wedding. She's gone until Sunday afternoon, so I'll be zipping down to the Skaha region, running my race, and zipping back before she flies in (as long as I don't die on the course!). While she's gone, I'm going to be a busy boy... volleyball, running, a potluck, a birthday party... oh, and I guess a bit of teaching too... so much to do in so little time!
Hopefully I can actually get some sleep tonight so I'm not a total wreck for the rest of the week. As we all know, though, hope is a feathered thing my friends, so I guess we'll just have to see how it all comes out in the wash.
T
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The existence of a twin...
What do shadows know of heartbeats? I think they only know of silence...
T
T
Sunny weekends and new shoes
It's been nearly 2 months since signing up for my local trail running clinic, and I have to say I'm enjoying it more and more. My participation has been greatly limited because of my busy schedule, but now that coaching is done until at least September, I have a bit of breathing room and some time to get out and train.
I was never a runner as a kid or teen... as a guy who suffered from exercise and allergen-induced asthma, I would start wheezing and hacking after about 5 minutes of sustained activity. I was always a bit out of shape because of this, and didn't ever consider myself particularly athletic... that title went to my older brother who played more sports and was better at them (except maybe badminton and golf... now, the golf thing is definitely in his favour). Not only was it laborious, but I was always quick to blame my struggles on the asthma and was never particularly interested in figuring out ways to get past them... it was always a crutch on which I readily leaned.
Since high school, though, my asthma symptoms have greatly faded to something that rarely bothers me. I suffer more from seasonal allergies now, but I've learned how to control my asthma through controlled breathing and I've got some pills to battle the sneezing and eye itchiness. So after being lazy and never doing anything more than once or twice-weekly rec volleyball, K and I did the two months of bootcamp last fall.
This was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Although we stopped going and bought gym memberships afterwards, I've been much more ambitious when it comes to personal fitness since we did it. And now that I'm running with an organized club and training for what I consider a "real" race (25k cross-country trail race in 6 weeks time), I probably feel better than ever. Sure, I haven't really done any cross-training or workouts since, well, January at the gym, the running thing is awesome. Yesterday we did over 2 hours and 16kms through a local creek greenway. One of the girls in the clinic took some pictures...
You may not have guessed, but I'm the one on the left. And there's more...
I was going to point out some serious irony in the next picture, but it's sideways and won't work very well. On the inside of each of these kilometre markers, they stamp a sponsor who maintains the trail. We began our run yesterday morning at the 8km marker, came to the end of the trail (the 16km marker) and ran back. The ironic part is this: the sponsor for Kilometre #16 is: Springfield Funeral Home! I guess I was a little nuts to do this cross-country running thing. But I thought it was hilarious.
Since I'm the youngest person participating in this training clinic and the only male that is actually training for the race (our fearless leader "D" is an ultra-marathon champ, is 60, and outruns me without any problems), I've needed to challenge myself, which is why "D" is such a good guy to have along... I need a chase rabbit, and he does a great job of doing just that.
I don't know how I'll finish at the race, but I'm hoping to do it in under 2 hours and 50 minutes. Is it realistic? I'm not too sure, but I think so. Regardless, the next 6 weeks are going to be full. Wish me luck.
T
Oh, and I forgot to show off my sweet new shoes!!!
Friday, April 25, 2008
Often
During my quiet days, my anti-social days, I often look back at my friendships, relationships and my interactions with my family and I get introspective. I wonder about whether or not I'm responsible for friendships that fell to the wayside or relationships that fizzled. I wonder who I hurt and who has hurt me... I know some of the hurt was unintentional... collateral damage for the situation. But other times, the hurt was due to carelessness, or immaturity, or disdain.
I also look back with a smile when I imagine some of the moments I've shared with people... watching the Northern Lights on the coulee edge with a close friend from University... sharing the perfect sunrise with someone new while extremely intoxicated during safe-grad... sharing moments of frustration with my travelling partners while navigating through a mysterious continent with what seemed to be an impossible language barrier... hiking to the top of a mountain without enough water and running the entire trail down to our stock of H2O... drinking wine for hours and talking about how lives become intertwined and how this moment in time was a conspiracy of the cosmos... talking to my wife while walking along the ocean or through a park, just trying to sort out our lives, all the while knowing that I have someone who will always listen and always forgive and who knows that even when I make mistakes that I have good intentions and I would never want to hurt her.
There are other moments... quieter moments I've spent alone, left to my own thoughts and my own devices. Strange moments where I feel lost, even in a familiar environment. Moments where I stare off into the distance or into the eyes of someone familiar, and suddenly things have changed. How, I cannot say. And moments where I write and feel like a poet who is all alone, even though I'm surrounded by people, realizing that lonliness has much more to do with our need to share than it does with our immediate environment and surroundings.
I changed the heading quote today after reading a story by an author named Jack Hodgins. I thought of my relationship with my parents and how it's transformed over the past 10 years, especially since moving away. Although I think I've acquired many of my mother's genetic traits, my father and I struggled to find common ground when I was younger because of our combined stubborness and our common need to be "right" in anything we did or said. Although I've learned how to reign in my stubborness more these days, I still have moments of weakness and I'm still easily frustrated by many things. I only hope that I become more flexible in years to come (even though I realize that the opposite is more likely). Dad and I still look at each other from across a metaphorical space of falling debris, but I know the space isn't nearly as wide as it once was, nor is the debris as dense. It felt like a chasm years ago... maybe it's simply as wide as the distance across a Sunday dinner table.
T
I also look back with a smile when I imagine some of the moments I've shared with people... watching the Northern Lights on the coulee edge with a close friend from University... sharing the perfect sunrise with someone new while extremely intoxicated during safe-grad... sharing moments of frustration with my travelling partners while navigating through a mysterious continent with what seemed to be an impossible language barrier... hiking to the top of a mountain without enough water and running the entire trail down to our stock of H2O... drinking wine for hours and talking about how lives become intertwined and how this moment in time was a conspiracy of the cosmos... talking to my wife while walking along the ocean or through a park, just trying to sort out our lives, all the while knowing that I have someone who will always listen and always forgive and who knows that even when I make mistakes that I have good intentions and I would never want to hurt her.
There are other moments... quieter moments I've spent alone, left to my own thoughts and my own devices. Strange moments where I feel lost, even in a familiar environment. Moments where I stare off into the distance or into the eyes of someone familiar, and suddenly things have changed. How, I cannot say. And moments where I write and feel like a poet who is all alone, even though I'm surrounded by people, realizing that lonliness has much more to do with our need to share than it does with our immediate environment and surroundings.
I changed the heading quote today after reading a story by an author named Jack Hodgins. I thought of my relationship with my parents and how it's transformed over the past 10 years, especially since moving away. Although I think I've acquired many of my mother's genetic traits, my father and I struggled to find common ground when I was younger because of our combined stubborness and our common need to be "right" in anything we did or said. Although I've learned how to reign in my stubborness more these days, I still have moments of weakness and I'm still easily frustrated by many things. I only hope that I become more flexible in years to come (even though I realize that the opposite is more likely). Dad and I still look at each other from across a metaphorical space of falling debris, but I know the space isn't nearly as wide as it once was, nor is the debris as dense. It felt like a chasm years ago... maybe it's simply as wide as the distance across a Sunday dinner table.
T
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Adventures
This weekend marked the second-last week of coaching for the year for me. My buddy J (one of the other assistants) took our team down to the Fraser Valley for a tournament, and made a repeat in 5th place. The drive out there was splendid, and I'm still convinced that the drive between Cranbrook and Osoyoos, and between Hope and Chilliwack, are two of my favourite drives ever. The scenery was stunning, and I could've been content to simply drive back home after driving into the sunset on Friday night. I also got to meet up with a good friend from the coast for a drink at a pub close to the river, and it reminded me of home on Vancouver Island. I sure miss the coast.
Even though we could've turned around after the drive, we decided to stay for the weekend and the boys finished fifth. Provincials are coming up this coming weekend in North Vancouver, so I'm just excited to have it over and done with. For the first time all season, the entire coaching staff will be attending, which should help our team perform to their best ability. Although I'm happy that we're building toward a positive finish, it is the finish itself that I'm excited about.
School's been challenging lately, as I know my previous posts have related. I'm quite over-tired, and yesterday morning was possibly the most trying day I've faced all semester. It's still the same block that is giving me trouble, and the same girls that are causing me stress. However, it seems like I'll be able to much of the problem tomorrow by creating an independent working environment for one particularly toxic student, and I'm hoping that many of my problems will be solved. I also had to lay down the law on a regularly tardy and drama-filled student, which will hopefully have some productive results.
I explained to my afternoon block that my morning was challenging so I might have a bit of a short fuse, and they were happy to oblige and be as positive as possible. One student even brought me a small slush to brighten up my day. Another student saw the look of frustration in my eyes and said, "Mr. M, don't quit life". His words are now immortalized on the whiteboard I use for putting up inspiring quotations behind my desk.
Yesterday even started off with a mouse fiasco. K called me into the kitchen as I was getting out of the shower because she thought she heard a mouse. Well, this is episode #3 since moving away, and #2 here in the OK Valley. So, I went to investigate, and after realizing that he wasn't hiding in the stove drawer, that he was actually under the sink. It turns out that in the process of rummaging around in our recycling under the stove, the stupid thing managed to knock over a can which overturned on top of him and trapped him. The noise was him trying to get out. I tried to figure out what to do with him, but since I was running a bit late, I didn't have time to sort any action plan out, so I simply put a shoe on top of the can and left him there. When I got home last night, I thought he was dead (no noise in the can when moving it around). I thought I'd flush him but just as I went into the bathroom (with some cardboard over the can which I slid underneath to get him out from under the sink), he started scurrying around. Not wanting to risk letting him loose in the house and not wanting to drown him, I took him out to our patio, stood over the side, and sent him flying out into the parking lot. Don't worry... after a brief tumble, he got up and ran away.
Disaster averted.
Now I just have to battle another busy week and get as much marking done as possible (report card marks due by Friday!). Otherwise, I'm just hanging in there. I can't wait until this week is done. Until again, all...
T
Even though we could've turned around after the drive, we decided to stay for the weekend and the boys finished fifth. Provincials are coming up this coming weekend in North Vancouver, so I'm just excited to have it over and done with. For the first time all season, the entire coaching staff will be attending, which should help our team perform to their best ability. Although I'm happy that we're building toward a positive finish, it is the finish itself that I'm excited about.
School's been challenging lately, as I know my previous posts have related. I'm quite over-tired, and yesterday morning was possibly the most trying day I've faced all semester. It's still the same block that is giving me trouble, and the same girls that are causing me stress. However, it seems like I'll be able to much of the problem tomorrow by creating an independent working environment for one particularly toxic student, and I'm hoping that many of my problems will be solved. I also had to lay down the law on a regularly tardy and drama-filled student, which will hopefully have some productive results.
I explained to my afternoon block that my morning was challenging so I might have a bit of a short fuse, and they were happy to oblige and be as positive as possible. One student even brought me a small slush to brighten up my day. Another student saw the look of frustration in my eyes and said, "Mr. M, don't quit life". His words are now immortalized on the whiteboard I use for putting up inspiring quotations behind my desk.
Yesterday even started off with a mouse fiasco. K called me into the kitchen as I was getting out of the shower because she thought she heard a mouse. Well, this is episode #3 since moving away, and #2 here in the OK Valley. So, I went to investigate, and after realizing that he wasn't hiding in the stove drawer, that he was actually under the sink. It turns out that in the process of rummaging around in our recycling under the stove, the stupid thing managed to knock over a can which overturned on top of him and trapped him. The noise was him trying to get out. I tried to figure out what to do with him, but since I was running a bit late, I didn't have time to sort any action plan out, so I simply put a shoe on top of the can and left him there. When I got home last night, I thought he was dead (no noise in the can when moving it around). I thought I'd flush him but just as I went into the bathroom (with some cardboard over the can which I slid underneath to get him out from under the sink), he started scurrying around. Not wanting to risk letting him loose in the house and not wanting to drown him, I took him out to our patio, stood over the side, and sent him flying out into the parking lot. Don't worry... after a brief tumble, he got up and ran away.
Disaster averted.
Now I just have to battle another busy week and get as much marking done as possible (report card marks due by Friday!). Otherwise, I'm just hanging in there. I can't wait until this week is done. Until again, all...
T
Monday, April 07, 2008
Settling back in
Spring has sprung and after a hectic week following spring break, it seems like the kids have started to settle back into the typical school routine. For the first day since starting my new job, I had every one of my kids attend class in both blocks today. It was a bit of the ol' too good to be true (I had a student leave at the afternoon break), but overall I was pretty excited about the situation overall.
Things around the house have been pretty hectic lately. I'm still coaching, and we're into the final two weeks of our club season. Our guys are playing pretty well (placing 5th in the province at the most recent tournament), and they seem to be gelling as a team. I'm still struggling to become a voice of authority with them, because many of them still see me as the inexperienced friendly guy who helped coach them last year. I was very open about my inexperience with them last year, and some of them take this to mean that I don't know what I'm doing. Although I'm the first to admit I am still figuring things out as far as the coaching goes, my knowledge of the game is fair and I have a lot of playing experience. Being young doesn't help either. And both of these factors have played a role in players not wanting to listen to me as an authority figure when our head coach is absent.
The same has gone for parents... being young and inexperienced, I'm an easy target for disgruntled parents who think either their kids are the centre of the universe and expect me to believe the same, or that I'm simply incompetent and I couldn't coach a team to save my life. Just the other day, I ran into one of my player's parents... being congenial, I went up and made small-talk about him being at my schooling selling his wares (high school study guides), and it didn't take him long to launch into some heavy criticism about the way the team is being coached and the fact that his son (who is used to being the premiere player on the team) is splitting time equally with another player who plays the same position. In essence, he was mad that his kid wasn't on the floor at all times. He was especially critical of our most recent tournament (where, ironically, our team and the other setter had their best performances of the season so far) and that a number of parents were upset with the way we were running things. I found this doubly-interesting because of the fact that our head coach was away and myself and my buddy (one of the other assistants) were left to run the team. I explained to him that a) it was really late in the season to start bringing such things up and b) if he had any concerns that our head coach would happily discuss them. So, I emailed our head coach explaining the situation and he set up a time to meet with Mr. Parent. Did the parent show up? Nope. We had two practices on the weekend, and he was supposed to meet our head coach before the first. No show. He didn't show up for the next one either. There was no explanation or excuse. Just an absence. Like I said... I'm an easy target being young and inexperienced, and people who are willing to lose it on easy targets aren't so willing to face confrontation when it would be with a man of a similar age with 25 years of coaching experienced under his belt. Needless to say, I'm not too surprised. His kid is definitely one of the ones who has a problem listening to me. Hmmmmmm.
Other than coaching, I'm supposed to start playing spring league volleyball this week... I won't make it though, because Paul Brandt is in town and K is a big fan. Thus, I'm taking her for part of her birthday present. Then, on top of these two things, I also signed up for a 3 month trail running clinic that is set up to prepare us for THIS... a 25k trail race in June. So, I'm punishing myself for having a lazy winter by being a glutton for punishment. We run twice a week with a group and then have a training schedule set up for us on other days. Have I actually done more than one of the activities on the training plan other than the organized runs? Well, not yet, but I have high hopes! If I get out tomorrow, I'll be happy that it's a good start.
So, coaching, playing, and running (along with the normal obligations of teaching) are overwhelming me a bit, but I only have 2 more weeks (and travel-weekends) of coaching left and the other obligations are physical and not mental (as well as recreational), so I should be okay. Still... I have this tendancy of overloading myself from time to time, so for now I'm not going to do much else... just run, work, and play some ball.
K's busy too... she'll be starting a new job (well, same job, new advisors) in the next month, and she's off to LA for a cousin's wedding with her mom in May. Then we have my little sister's wedding in July, and some camping to do in the meantime. The sun has started shining pretty consistently and the mornings are warming up, so it's just a short while longer until summer's here to stay.
And it couldn't come quickly enough.
T
Things around the house have been pretty hectic lately. I'm still coaching, and we're into the final two weeks of our club season. Our guys are playing pretty well (placing 5th in the province at the most recent tournament), and they seem to be gelling as a team. I'm still struggling to become a voice of authority with them, because many of them still see me as the inexperienced friendly guy who helped coach them last year. I was very open about my inexperience with them last year, and some of them take this to mean that I don't know what I'm doing. Although I'm the first to admit I am still figuring things out as far as the coaching goes, my knowledge of the game is fair and I have a lot of playing experience. Being young doesn't help either. And both of these factors have played a role in players not wanting to listen to me as an authority figure when our head coach is absent.
The same has gone for parents... being young and inexperienced, I'm an easy target for disgruntled parents who think either their kids are the centre of the universe and expect me to believe the same, or that I'm simply incompetent and I couldn't coach a team to save my life. Just the other day, I ran into one of my player's parents... being congenial, I went up and made small-talk about him being at my schooling selling his wares (high school study guides), and it didn't take him long to launch into some heavy criticism about the way the team is being coached and the fact that his son (who is used to being the premiere player on the team) is splitting time equally with another player who plays the same position. In essence, he was mad that his kid wasn't on the floor at all times. He was especially critical of our most recent tournament (where, ironically, our team and the other setter had their best performances of the season so far) and that a number of parents were upset with the way we were running things. I found this doubly-interesting because of the fact that our head coach was away and myself and my buddy (one of the other assistants) were left to run the team. I explained to him that a) it was really late in the season to start bringing such things up and b) if he had any concerns that our head coach would happily discuss them. So, I emailed our head coach explaining the situation and he set up a time to meet with Mr. Parent. Did the parent show up? Nope. We had two practices on the weekend, and he was supposed to meet our head coach before the first. No show. He didn't show up for the next one either. There was no explanation or excuse. Just an absence. Like I said... I'm an easy target being young and inexperienced, and people who are willing to lose it on easy targets aren't so willing to face confrontation when it would be with a man of a similar age with 25 years of coaching experienced under his belt. Needless to say, I'm not too surprised. His kid is definitely one of the ones who has a problem listening to me. Hmmmmmm.
Other than coaching, I'm supposed to start playing spring league volleyball this week... I won't make it though, because Paul Brandt is in town and K is a big fan. Thus, I'm taking her for part of her birthday present. Then, on top of these two things, I also signed up for a 3 month trail running clinic that is set up to prepare us for THIS... a 25k trail race in June. So, I'm punishing myself for having a lazy winter by being a glutton for punishment. We run twice a week with a group and then have a training schedule set up for us on other days. Have I actually done more than one of the activities on the training plan other than the organized runs? Well, not yet, but I have high hopes! If I get out tomorrow, I'll be happy that it's a good start.
So, coaching, playing, and running (along with the normal obligations of teaching) are overwhelming me a bit, but I only have 2 more weeks (and travel-weekends) of coaching left and the other obligations are physical and not mental (as well as recreational), so I should be okay. Still... I have this tendancy of overloading myself from time to time, so for now I'm not going to do much else... just run, work, and play some ball.
K's busy too... she'll be starting a new job (well, same job, new advisors) in the next month, and she's off to LA for a cousin's wedding with her mom in May. Then we have my little sister's wedding in July, and some camping to do in the meantime. The sun has started shining pretty consistently and the mornings are warming up, so it's just a short while longer until summer's here to stay.
And it couldn't come quickly enough.
T
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Months slipping by and the willingness to show up
Over the past year or two, I've come to realize that I'm a bit flighty.
Since graduating from high school, I've done a number of different things... travelling, working various jobs, changing universities, changing locations, etc. I've developed interests and temporary obsessions with a variety of things. Often, though, they're quickly abandoned. I guess I just get bored a little easily.
At one point in my life, I thought I had an addictive personality. However, I think it's more of an "infatuation personality"... I become really interested in a certain thing and immerse myself in it. Then, at one point, I stop doing it regularly and find less interest in it. In the beginning, I can't live without it. I crave it... need it. Soon, though, I abandon it like a couch in a back alley... I might see it out there in the cold as I look through the window over the kitchen sink and think about it... but I think to myself, "it's been a good run. It was fun while it lasted." After that, it's rarely thought of again.
I guess the same thing goes for the blog. Some days I feel an inner compulsion to share what's on my mind... I need other people to read what I write or listen to what I have to say. In truth, I know that very few people actually read this thing (thanks, K.S. and Cibi!), but the compulsion remains. Often, though, it's fleeting and will disappear altogether after a while. Like March, 2008. Although there was a lot of stuff going on in my less-than-exciting existence, I really felt no compulsion to write. And I even had two weeks of spring break. Did that change anything? Nopers. Not a word.
I think my wife should be truly happy with me... before we started dating, no girl had lasted past my 4.5 month curse (I didn't date a single girl for more than about 4.5 months before K got her hooks into me!). Not only am I happy, but I usually can't wait to see her at the end of my days and to wake up beside her every morning. Sure, sometimes I want to launch my coffee cup at her when we're in the throws of marital angst (which, of course, is inevitable), but it never makes me want to leave or give up. If anything, it just makes me want to show up more. We talked about it a few weeks ago... about the fact that love is only a fraction of the marriage... that marriage takes a tonne of work and how we assume most people underestimate that.
Somebody gave me a simple but effective piece of advice when I was getting overwhelmed during my practicum:
"The biggest thing is to keep showing up"
The times I've failed were the times when I just stopped showing up. Now, showing up goes beyond the physical... it involves the mental. I think this is one of the biggest challenges for the high school students (and teachers)... for some of them, the biggest challenge is actually making it to school. For the rest, it's showing up mentally. If they can show up mentally and engage in what's happening in the classroom, success follows almost unanimously.
The same thing is definitely true for relationships... showing up (and, of course, wanting to show up) is more than half the battle. Or, so it seems in my limited marital experience.
There's your change for a nickel. More on my actual life later (maybe in another month or two)...
T
Since graduating from high school, I've done a number of different things... travelling, working various jobs, changing universities, changing locations, etc. I've developed interests and temporary obsessions with a variety of things. Often, though, they're quickly abandoned. I guess I just get bored a little easily.
At one point in my life, I thought I had an addictive personality. However, I think it's more of an "infatuation personality"... I become really interested in a certain thing and immerse myself in it. Then, at one point, I stop doing it regularly and find less interest in it. In the beginning, I can't live without it. I crave it... need it. Soon, though, I abandon it like a couch in a back alley... I might see it out there in the cold as I look through the window over the kitchen sink and think about it... but I think to myself, "it's been a good run. It was fun while it lasted." After that, it's rarely thought of again.
I guess the same thing goes for the blog. Some days I feel an inner compulsion to share what's on my mind... I need other people to read what I write or listen to what I have to say. In truth, I know that very few people actually read this thing (thanks, K.S. and Cibi!), but the compulsion remains. Often, though, it's fleeting and will disappear altogether after a while. Like March, 2008. Although there was a lot of stuff going on in my less-than-exciting existence, I really felt no compulsion to write. And I even had two weeks of spring break. Did that change anything? Nopers. Not a word.
I think my wife should be truly happy with me... before we started dating, no girl had lasted past my 4.5 month curse (I didn't date a single girl for more than about 4.5 months before K got her hooks into me!). Not only am I happy, but I usually can't wait to see her at the end of my days and to wake up beside her every morning. Sure, sometimes I want to launch my coffee cup at her when we're in the throws of marital angst (which, of course, is inevitable), but it never makes me want to leave or give up. If anything, it just makes me want to show up more. We talked about it a few weeks ago... about the fact that love is only a fraction of the marriage... that marriage takes a tonne of work and how we assume most people underestimate that.
Somebody gave me a simple but effective piece of advice when I was getting overwhelmed during my practicum:
"The biggest thing is to keep showing up"
The times I've failed were the times when I just stopped showing up. Now, showing up goes beyond the physical... it involves the mental. I think this is one of the biggest challenges for the high school students (and teachers)... for some of them, the biggest challenge is actually making it to school. For the rest, it's showing up mentally. If they can show up mentally and engage in what's happening in the classroom, success follows almost unanimously.
The same thing is definitely true for relationships... showing up (and, of course, wanting to show up) is more than half the battle. Or, so it seems in my limited marital experience.
There's your change for a nickel. More on my actual life later (maybe in another month or two)...
T
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Six weeks down (started about 2 weeks ago)
The teaching profession features (what seems like) few victories and many defeats. On certain days, no matter how many decent everyday kids are performing tolerably well in the class, one or two students can make a teacher feel completely hopeless and ineffective. I had one of thsee days recently, and wish I could rid myself of them altogether. I came home restless, and couldn't sleep... the whole night, I was dreaming of being constantly and overwhelmingly frustrated by confrontational and defiant attitudes and a complete refusal to work.
Such things are frustrating for the very fact that the minority generally spoil things for the rest of the decent kids. Many days, I realize that I need to be in control of my emotions and deal with everything with a cool head. Sometimes, though, it's difficult.
Beyond these generally minor troubles, the majority of my kids/classes have been quite good. I've definitely been able to convert a number of former Shakespeare-haters and turned them into lovers of The Bard. Now, I'm hoping that I can take credit for some of this, but that may not be the case. Regardless, it makes me happy.
These first six weeks have stormed by, and now the long haul to June begins. We just got back from two weeks of holidays, and I'm already exhausted. The worst part is, I know I won't be catching up on my sleep anytime soon. I'm stretching myself thin, and I feel as though a breaking point is coming soon. It's not like it's the first time I've felt this way, but at least I'm not panicked... yet, anyway.
Coaching is winding down, and a new season of rec-league volleyball is about to begin. I still have two more tournaments to coach (one of which I may bail on), and the end can't seem to come soon enough. I also signed up for a new trail-running training clinic that is prepping us for a mini-ultra trail race here in the sunny Okanagan in June. It's a 25k race through the hills and trees on hiking trails... and although I've never run in anything more than a 10k, I figured it would be a great way to get ready for the 1/2 marathon I was planning to race in the fall... have I gone a bit overboard? Methinks, well... maybe.
So, between teaching, coaching, running, and playing volleyball (oh yeah, I have a wife too), I'm definitely doing too much. Something's gotta give and it might be my sanity (or my marking load!)... if only I can get through the coaching, I may make it... the rest seems manageable. Three weeks seems like a long time from now, though. Lord help me...
T
Such things are frustrating for the very fact that the minority generally spoil things for the rest of the decent kids. Many days, I realize that I need to be in control of my emotions and deal with everything with a cool head. Sometimes, though, it's difficult.
Beyond these generally minor troubles, the majority of my kids/classes have been quite good. I've definitely been able to convert a number of former Shakespeare-haters and turned them into lovers of The Bard. Now, I'm hoping that I can take credit for some of this, but that may not be the case. Regardless, it makes me happy.
These first six weeks have stormed by, and now the long haul to June begins. We just got back from two weeks of holidays, and I'm already exhausted. The worst part is, I know I won't be catching up on my sleep anytime soon. I'm stretching myself thin, and I feel as though a breaking point is coming soon. It's not like it's the first time I've felt this way, but at least I'm not panicked... yet, anyway.
Coaching is winding down, and a new season of rec-league volleyball is about to begin. I still have two more tournaments to coach (one of which I may bail on), and the end can't seem to come soon enough. I also signed up for a new trail-running training clinic that is prepping us for a mini-ultra trail race here in the sunny Okanagan in June. It's a 25k race through the hills and trees on hiking trails... and although I've never run in anything more than a 10k, I figured it would be a great way to get ready for the 1/2 marathon I was planning to race in the fall... have I gone a bit overboard? Methinks, well... maybe.
So, between teaching, coaching, running, and playing volleyball (oh yeah, I have a wife too), I'm definitely doing too much. Something's gotta give and it might be my sanity (or my marking load!)... if only I can get through the coaching, I may make it... the rest seems manageable. Three weeks seems like a long time from now, though. Lord help me...
T
Saturday, March 01, 2008
The art of doing (very) little
My days have been quite full. It's been weeks since I've been able to sleep late and just spend a day doing nothing. Either work or coaching or errands have shouted my name throughout the weekend, and it was just getting a bit tiring. But today, my friends... today, I managed to accomplish just what I was hoping for... very little.
After waking up late (or late-ish), I spend the morning slowly washing dishes, drinking coffee, and just hanging out with K. It seems like we haven't seen each other in weeks, which is somewhat true (particularly this last week). K's been fighting an horrendous cold/cough/flu combination from being run-down and over-tired, and I know that this would be a terrible time to suffer from that same fate. Thus, I banished myself to the futon for a few nights to stay healthy and get some shut-eye.
I thought it would only be for a night... but K just kept on coughing and had the electric blanket on high (I can't sleep when I get too hot), so I kept on passing out in the spare room. I don't really mind much... she's able to sprawl and take advantage of some extra space, and I don't come down with whooping SARS or whatever it is she's been afflicted with. Also, the futon was my actual bed for the whole first year I was on the Island, so I sleep like a baby when I'm on it. It's definitely been a few years since it was home, that's for sure.
Last night, I tried to venture back into the bedroom... K had started to feel better, and her cough seemed to have calmed down, so into bed I climbed. Between the time I crawled in at about 11:00 and when I finally woke up for good at 12:47am, the coughing didn't cease. So, off to the futon I was (again). Still, though, I slept like the dead and crawled in with K about 8am when I knew the coughing had subsided long enough to get a few extra winks.
After finally getting out of bed, I made some coffee and started on the dishes. K woke up shortly thereafter, so I got her some coffee and breakfast, and worked my way through the mountain of dishes that had accumulated throughout the week. After getting tired of wet hands and having some breakky of my own, we lounged some more, watched some Harry Potter, made some lunch and finished that off with even more lounging. It was about 3pm before I had a shower. It was lovely.
K had a coffee date with a colleague, so I headed to the gym for the first time in a couple of weeks. Saturday afternoon is a great time to go... no waiting for equipment, no rush, no jostling for space... quite enjoyable. After working on some cardio and some core, I came home, made some delicious spaghetti, did some more dishes, and capped the night with a soothing class of peppermint tea and a cookie.
It's barely 10pm, and I'm ready to turn in. No more work for this guy... it would just be out of place. Tomorrow's schedule seems a bit more full... but hopefully, it can mimic today just a bit. Sometimes doing nothing is just about the perfect thing to do.
T
After waking up late (or late-ish), I spend the morning slowly washing dishes, drinking coffee, and just hanging out with K. It seems like we haven't seen each other in weeks, which is somewhat true (particularly this last week). K's been fighting an horrendous cold/cough/flu combination from being run-down and over-tired, and I know that this would be a terrible time to suffer from that same fate. Thus, I banished myself to the futon for a few nights to stay healthy and get some shut-eye.
I thought it would only be for a night... but K just kept on coughing and had the electric blanket on high (I can't sleep when I get too hot), so I kept on passing out in the spare room. I don't really mind much... she's able to sprawl and take advantage of some extra space, and I don't come down with whooping SARS or whatever it is she's been afflicted with. Also, the futon was my actual bed for the whole first year I was on the Island, so I sleep like a baby when I'm on it. It's definitely been a few years since it was home, that's for sure.
Last night, I tried to venture back into the bedroom... K had started to feel better, and her cough seemed to have calmed down, so into bed I climbed. Between the time I crawled in at about 11:00 and when I finally woke up for good at 12:47am, the coughing didn't cease. So, off to the futon I was (again). Still, though, I slept like the dead and crawled in with K about 8am when I knew the coughing had subsided long enough to get a few extra winks.
After finally getting out of bed, I made some coffee and started on the dishes. K woke up shortly thereafter, so I got her some coffee and breakfast, and worked my way through the mountain of dishes that had accumulated throughout the week. After getting tired of wet hands and having some breakky of my own, we lounged some more, watched some Harry Potter, made some lunch and finished that off with even more lounging. It was about 3pm before I had a shower. It was lovely.
K had a coffee date with a colleague, so I headed to the gym for the first time in a couple of weeks. Saturday afternoon is a great time to go... no waiting for equipment, no rush, no jostling for space... quite enjoyable. After working on some cardio and some core, I came home, made some delicious spaghetti, did some more dishes, and capped the night with a soothing class of peppermint tea and a cookie.
It's barely 10pm, and I'm ready to turn in. No more work for this guy... it would just be out of place. Tomorrow's schedule seems a bit more full... but hopefully, it can mimic today just a bit. Sometimes doing nothing is just about the perfect thing to do.
T
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Staying ahead of the curve
At this junction in my life, I feel like I'm constantly fighting to stay ahead of the curve in any of my present ventures. I'm a new teacher, and it takes a tonne of time to stay on top of the kids and the material and make sense of what I'm trying to teach them. I'm also a new coach, so I'm trying to soak up as much information as possible in order to pass that on to my future players down the road. And since I'm still fairly young and new at the whole marriage thing (even though, realistically, by year two I feel like a seasoned vet), I'm still learning what it takes to have a solid relationhip. Every day is a new challenge on how to learn as much as possible and utilize what I learn in my day to day life.
Learning from a mentor coach has been extremely eye-opening thus far. I've learned about my faults and inabilities quite quickly working with A, who has almost as much coaching experience as I do life experience (which is intimidating on a number of levels). I keep thinking of the old adage, "The more I learn, the more I realize I don't know" (or something to that effect). Now, I'm not sure who said this, but there are few things in this world that are more true. Every day I work with him, I learn that I have a endlessly more to learn. I've also come to know my bad habits as a leader and a coach, and how my persona plays into the level of respect students/players have for me. So far, I've approached my classes and teams with a desire for them to know things about me and become friendly with me so they feel as though they're in a safe environment. However, A has really challenged this mentality and approaches the leadership position from a very different angle... one of disciplined aloofness... friendly, but distant always as a method of separation between the roles of teacher and student/player. Even though I'm not sure I'd be able to adopt the same approach, he's definitely developed an ability to handle kids in just this way.
I guess it's just being the new guy in town... everything I'm doing seems new, so it's a big challenge. I can only hope that I take in as much as possible and constantly improve. Some days I realize my work ethic prevents this, but I can still work towards improving. Always to improve...
T
Learning from a mentor coach has been extremely eye-opening thus far. I've learned about my faults and inabilities quite quickly working with A, who has almost as much coaching experience as I do life experience (which is intimidating on a number of levels). I keep thinking of the old adage, "The more I learn, the more I realize I don't know" (or something to that effect). Now, I'm not sure who said this, but there are few things in this world that are more true. Every day I work with him, I learn that I have a endlessly more to learn. I've also come to know my bad habits as a leader and a coach, and how my persona plays into the level of respect students/players have for me. So far, I've approached my classes and teams with a desire for them to know things about me and become friendly with me so they feel as though they're in a safe environment. However, A has really challenged this mentality and approaches the leadership position from a very different angle... one of disciplined aloofness... friendly, but distant always as a method of separation between the roles of teacher and student/player. Even though I'm not sure I'd be able to adopt the same approach, he's definitely developed an ability to handle kids in just this way.
I guess it's just being the new guy in town... everything I'm doing seems new, so it's a big challenge. I can only hope that I take in as much as possible and constantly improve. Some days I realize my work ethic prevents this, but I can still work towards improving. Always to improve...
T
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Piles
When weeks like this arrive, I start thinking of Jenga. Piles of blocks, vicariously perched on one another. Just things piled on top of other things, with very little room in between.
I guess I should qualify this statement. I don't feel like my Jenga-world is going to suddenly topple to the ground. But this week has just been a bit hectic, and stressful, and there hasn't been any time to really step back. Being back in the classroom full-time is still a hard adjustment... so many more people have so many requests of me and my time and expectations of me and my abilities, and it seems to stretch a person thin.
Yesterday was just the epitome of such a day. I had to go in for my "New Teacher Orientation" yesterday morning, which is about, well, 3 weeks late. Still, one of my VP's wanted to get it done and make sure they went through the proper motions with me, so I met him yesterday morning before school. I figured it would take about 10 minutes. However, after waiting in his office for 10 minutes, we spent the next 45 going over the orientation checklist of every possible scenario I may run into throughout the school year. I'm a pretty resourceful guy, so I'd actually sorted all that out already, but we went through the motions anyway. Thus, it left me about 5 minutes to get my room ready for the animals.
I then ended up with only about 10 minutes of my lunch because of a student who was having some serious issues keeping up with the material in the classes, missing my meeting for a social justice group I thought I'd have time to help out with. After school, I cleaned up my stuff, did a bit of prep work, then had to book it home in time to get picked up for my rec-league volleyball which started at 6pm last night, which was followed by another game at a different school with a different team (helping out a friend who was short-handed), and finally had to take off to the University to coach from 8-10, getting home just after 10. K had to run out to the office to get something done that she forgot (at 9:30pm!), so I arrived home to an empty house, and upon her return, she had to fill me in on her stressful day.
By 11pm, I was about ready to pass out, so off to bed I went. It was just one of those days. Although today's a new day and a new start, I have to get home shortly after school to cook dinner and start cleaning the house, as K's mom is coming for out for a funeral and is staying at our place. Oh, did I mention that I have a Pro-D day tomorrow, and I'm leaving for the Fraser Valley at 4pm (immediately after the Pro-D) to coach at a tournament until Sunday night? Like I said... Jenga. Piles and piles. The holes? They must be the fatigue.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
T
I guess I should qualify this statement. I don't feel like my Jenga-world is going to suddenly topple to the ground. But this week has just been a bit hectic, and stressful, and there hasn't been any time to really step back. Being back in the classroom full-time is still a hard adjustment... so many more people have so many requests of me and my time and expectations of me and my abilities, and it seems to stretch a person thin.
Yesterday was just the epitome of such a day. I had to go in for my "New Teacher Orientation" yesterday morning, which is about, well, 3 weeks late. Still, one of my VP's wanted to get it done and make sure they went through the proper motions with me, so I met him yesterday morning before school. I figured it would take about 10 minutes. However, after waiting in his office for 10 minutes, we spent the next 45 going over the orientation checklist of every possible scenario I may run into throughout the school year. I'm a pretty resourceful guy, so I'd actually sorted all that out already, but we went through the motions anyway. Thus, it left me about 5 minutes to get my room ready for the animals.
I then ended up with only about 10 minutes of my lunch because of a student who was having some serious issues keeping up with the material in the classes, missing my meeting for a social justice group I thought I'd have time to help out with. After school, I cleaned up my stuff, did a bit of prep work, then had to book it home in time to get picked up for my rec-league volleyball which started at 6pm last night, which was followed by another game at a different school with a different team (helping out a friend who was short-handed), and finally had to take off to the University to coach from 8-10, getting home just after 10. K had to run out to the office to get something done that she forgot (at 9:30pm!), so I arrived home to an empty house, and upon her return, she had to fill me in on her stressful day.
By 11pm, I was about ready to pass out, so off to bed I went. It was just one of those days. Although today's a new day and a new start, I have to get home shortly after school to cook dinner and start cleaning the house, as K's mom is coming for out for a funeral and is staying at our place. Oh, did I mention that I have a Pro-D day tomorrow, and I'm leaving for the Fraser Valley at 4pm (immediately after the Pro-D) to coach at a tournament until Sunday night? Like I said... Jenga. Piles and piles. The holes? They must be the fatigue.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
T
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
New songs in my IPod...
Over the past few months, I've been adding a variety of new music to my IPod. It's quite varied, and because of this, the music I put on definitely depends on the mood I'm in.
Last night, on recommendation of a friend, I acquired some blues music from a musician named Harry Manx. Now, he's been around for decades, but from what I can tell, his music is seeing a bit of a renaissance. He played a show recently here in the Valley, and friends in attendance said it was wonderful. Typically, I never turn down live music so I'm disappointed that I didn't attend, and this was even more so the case when I actually listened to his music.
It's fantastic. He blends soulful southern blues with the sounds of India (by way of his acoustic slide guitar manipulations), and his voice is strong and pure. I absolutely love it, and you should too. You need to go here to see a performance on YouTube... you won't be disappointed.
I've also added music ranging from Everlast and Jay-Z, to John Coltrane and Ella Fitzgerald, to Lily Allen and Jack Johnson. I think I even have a song or two by the Dixie Chicks. I've definitely stepped away from the louder, more intense tunes of my youth as my main listening interests, even though my youth is, in reality, still here and I still have a quite glorious collection of 90's rock and alternative tunes on there. But, overall my tastes have mellowed, and I definitely enjoy more of the jazz and blues music that I always liked but never pursued. I think part of my soul lives in Louisiana... not only because of my love for the music, but my taste for spicy food and catfish too.
T
Last night, on recommendation of a friend, I acquired some blues music from a musician named Harry Manx. Now, he's been around for decades, but from what I can tell, his music is seeing a bit of a renaissance. He played a show recently here in the Valley, and friends in attendance said it was wonderful. Typically, I never turn down live music so I'm disappointed that I didn't attend, and this was even more so the case when I actually listened to his music.
It's fantastic. He blends soulful southern blues with the sounds of India (by way of his acoustic slide guitar manipulations), and his voice is strong and pure. I absolutely love it, and you should too. You need to go here to see a performance on YouTube... you won't be disappointed.
I've also added music ranging from Everlast and Jay-Z, to John Coltrane and Ella Fitzgerald, to Lily Allen and Jack Johnson. I think I even have a song or two by the Dixie Chicks. I've definitely stepped away from the louder, more intense tunes of my youth as my main listening interests, even though my youth is, in reality, still here and I still have a quite glorious collection of 90's rock and alternative tunes on there. But, overall my tastes have mellowed, and I definitely enjoy more of the jazz and blues music that I always liked but never pursued. I think part of my soul lives in Louisiana... not only because of my love for the music, but my taste for spicy food and catfish too.
T
Monday, February 11, 2008
I'm not generally one for awards shows, but...
The Grammy Awards last night were absolutely spectacular. I don't think I've been entertained by such good quality live music on TV, well, ever. Kanye's performance of "Stronger" with the tribute to his mother was extremely touching, Alicia Keys is not only one of the most beautiful people on the planet but also one of the most talented (both with her "duet" with Frank Sinatra and her performance of "No One" with John Mayer), and seeing Aretha Franklin bring it home was great. Not to mention Feist put on a great performance, as did Foo Fighters. I'm a huge Amy Winehouse fan, so I was really excited to see her win, and the fact that Herbie Hancock won Album of the year just redeems my faith in the modern music industry... at least a little... maybe it's not all shot to hell.
If you haven't seen the performances, track them down online somewhere... it's well worth the show.
T
If you haven't seen the performances, track them down online somewhere... it's well worth the show.
T
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