It Made Me Smile

I had a new student walk into class today.

"What's your name?"

"Isadora."

I immediately thought, "Da vaultz. Da Cha." I smiled at a happy memory.

She came in through Isadora, and brightened my day for while.

Last Day

Today is really my last day of summer — such as it was — because I have to go to school tomorrow since I'm a new teacher to LHS. I could probably beg off without repercussion, but it's probably better to go. I was planning on being up there anyway. I just hope it's not going to be an all day thing. Then, I need to be at LHS on Friday for something called "GO Day." I might or might not stay away from the school on Thursday.

So how did I spend my last glorious day of summer?

• Trying to get Judy's car to start so I could take it to the shop. Unsuccessful so far.
• Paying bills.
• Doing some paperwork for Jack for KSU.
• Mowing the lawn.

Obviously, the excitement is non-stop.

:-p *pffpfffpffpffpfffpfffft!*

I am starting to get excited about the new school year. I just wish that I'd been able to get a few other things done this summer that I had hoped/planned to do. Oh, well. Onward and (hopefully) upward.

Embarrassment

Well ... maybe not actually embarrassed, but ... Caught some bits of Woodstock on VH1 Classic this afternoon. Though the people involved were a bit older than me (I was 11), they were still "my generation" — baby boomers — and for the most part, they come across as a bunch of idiots. All the swiss-cheese-brained, naive, hippie-talk is just embarrassing. Of course, it was all there: the man's, the groovy's, the far-out's, the ever-present like's (that ain't a new phenomenon), the stoner laughs along with the fuzzy-minded peace, love, and rock & roll philosophy spewed by naive true believers and huckster con-artists alike. It was amazing how the "idealistic" filmmakers made sure the naked girls they filmed just happened to be the pretty ones (or maybe I should blame the director/editor). The saddest shot was of of little kids, about two or three years old, watching dad toke it up. I hope they made out all right in the end, but I can't help but have my doubts.

Joe Cocker is scary.

But I guess it wasn't all that bad; I did get to see CSN do Suite: Judy Blue Eyes (their first public performance as a group). So, not a total loss. :-)

Well, Carlos Santana was awesome, too.

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Lost in Thought

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Profoundly Affected

Virginia Tech. Or as one of my favorite bumper stickers has it, Vajenya Tek.

I'm surprised at how I feel concerning yesterday's events. Of course, I am shocked, saddened, and dismayed. Columbine brought the same emotions. As did the Beltway Sniper(s). 9/11 brought them, too, but with even more shock along with anger added to the mix.

VT has produced in me profound grief. I mourn. It's the same I felt when I lost my brother and then my step-father.

I'm surprised I feel this so deeply because ... well ... I'm not an alumnus. Sure, I have friends who are and my brother-in-law also is, but I've never even been on the campus. I did apply to attend college there, but somehow they didn't get all my high school info (I think my counselor dropped the ball); since I wanted to go to GMU anyway, I didn't pursue it any further.

So is it really possible I feel this way because of my rather loose affiliations? Or is it because my three youngest kids are college age? Or is it because I am part of the educational establishment myself? Or maybe I feel this because I am — from the outer most surface of my "personal bubble" to the very core of my soul — a Virginian, and this took place in my "home"? (Do I hear a faint ringing of the truth bell on that last one?)

I don't know.

I just want to go to some quiet, solitary place — and cry.

The Dark Side

Hate, hate, hate. Loathe, despise, and HATE.

That's really what I wanted to say on my Xanga.

But that just seemed like too public a forum. I mean, there are people that actually read it. Far fewer here.

So, what prompts this paroxysm of contempt? Two words: middle school. Not the age; not the students. The "concept." I honestly don't mind working with this age group of kids — though I believe 6th graders should not be included in the middle school age; they should still be considered elementary school. Though not my preference, I have worked with them for 6 years in a more "junior high" setting, and it's really not bad. They can actually be kind of fun. And it's amazing what they can do with extra-curricular full-length popular plays (not the crap that's written for that age). But my point here isn't to pontificate about my educational philosophy. Suffice it to say, the middle school concept and I do NOT fit.

No, what I want to talk about is how much I was hating how my life was going. I quite literally don't know the words to describe the utter and complete despair I felt when I thought of teaching middle school again next year. That loathing despondency weighed me down and saturated my every waking (and some sleeping) moment. I frankly wondered if I would sink into real clinical depression if I had to teach in middle school again. And I hated myself for feeling this way. I mean, God is sovereign and it would have been the best for me. Yet I could not even bring myself to pray that He would change my heart so that I could embrace what He deemed best. I wanted nothing of it. Period.

I've tried to extricate myself from teaching, but God seems intent on keeping me doing it. Not that I mind, in a sense. I mean, I really do love teaching; I love thinking of myself as a teacher (lowly as that is); I love teaching theatre; I love the directing/play production end of it enormously; I love working with and getting to know the students (and maybe influencing them for the gospel in some small way). I love it too much. It consumes me. Completely. In just about every conscious moment my mind is on this or that aspect of teaching or theatre. I try as hard as I can to not let it interfere with my family life and my church life. I fail miserably. But as I've said before, this is what I do best and when I do it well, like Eric Liddell and his running, I feel the pleasure of God. He's shut all other doors, it seems, and boxed me in. At this point, I can't NOT teach theatre.

So, I am happy — and humbled — that God brought along the job at Lassiter HS. I don't deserve it considering the attitude I've had. Yet, this seems to make it fairly clear to me what He wants me to do. And there is truly no other school that I know of where I'd rather teach. Come September, the bloom may fall off the rose like lead through the vacuum of space, but right now it looks like the most unwarranted mercy and favor of God. It seems appropriate to plagiarize myself and end this with the last paragraph of the Xanga post mentioned above:

I am most grateful to God for bringing this my way. I certainly don't feel I deserve it, but I'll take it anyway. "God loves me, and He gave me something wonderful!" — Norman Cornell

Humble Orthodoxy

I wanna go ...