Monday, May 18, 2015

Atheist Poetry

Poem #1

I see
A tree. 

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Poem #2

My cat 
Is cute. 
That's not a fact, 
backed by data. 
Therefore,
My cat 
Is ugly. 

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Poem #3

I walked to work today. 
It was seventy degrees
There were birds. 
There were trees. 
I saw a dog. 
It barked at me. 

Sunday, September 08, 2013

I'm a lousy blogger

It's not that I don't have things to say. Maybe it's that I have too much to say and don't know where to begin.

Random stuff that has been on my mind. An old friend posted in her Facebook page that her granddaughter had died. Nobody is sure what happened to her. I sure as hell am not going to ask. A friend posted on her Facebook page that she had been murdered. But there are also other comments about there being too many rumors. So I can't say. Either way, I know it was a sudden thing. It got into my dreams a few nights ago. There was violence and fear. Such darkness. I go there once in a while, but I don't like to linger. The mind is a strange thing.

Several years ago, one of this friend's daughters was murdered. It's unreal, really. She does not deserve all this pain. They say losing a child has to be the worst thing ever. But losing a child and a grand child, both quite suddenly? Unimaginable. There isn't anything I can do for this friend. Just tell her I'm sorry, and keep her in my thoughts, and such. I may try to make her a painting. Something.

On painting, one of my major goals of this summer, to get my painting studio up and going, failed. I did make some progress towards the goal, but I had hoped to be ready by the time school started. I'm back teaching now, and its kicking my ass. Work is always exhausting. The first month, especially. They've taken away my classroom, and I'm on a cart going class to class. It's ok. Hey, I think I'm getting in better shape, at least. But I am still working towards the goal of the studio. When I don't have creative outlets, I get really depressed. The original art studio in the laundry room didn't really work. Because laundry has taken over. I hate putting away laundry, so it just sits there for a while until I get to it. But like I said, work is wearing me out. Laundry management is not the top of my list of things to do when I get home.

The themes going through my head are the nature of life and death. Nothing heavy or anything.

My cousin Mary Catherine died in June. She was 21. She had liver cancer and fought it for years. I felt especially close to her recently because we were diagnosed in the same year. If I could have given her some of my years, I would have. Her friend wrote and performed a song for her.



My aunt Dot also died a few weeks go. Lots of memories regarding her. I missed both of these family funerals, as well as my uncle Larry's in January.

I seem to be constantly broke, and stuck in one place. Going out of town is a luxury at the moment. I've managed to get up to see mom a few times. But not as much as I'd like. I haven't even gotten to go camping or kayaking this summer. I kind of feel like I am suffocating sometimes. I'm writing this at 1:30ish AM. Which means the insomnia is still keeping me company. For some reason, late at night is when my mind races the most. Melatonin helps, but not always (I'm lying here waiting for it to help right now).

I wonder why I don't often feel lonely. Or is it that I am so used to loneliness now that it seems normal ?

On that note, I'm going to try sleep again.

Bonsoire!

Monday, December 17, 2012

Sandy Hook...

I am truly at a loss for words. Everyone is. The same words keep being repeated. HorribleUnbelievableTragicHeartbreakingBut none of these words really seem to work. There's no word that truly fits the feeling. Shock HorrorSadnessHelplessnessWe are all these things, and more. And we are a nation in grief. Even though most didn't know these children and these families, it's impossible not to look at our own beloved children and see their faces in the faces of the Sandy Hook children.

It's too hard to fathom. Working in an elementary school myself, I can't help but imagine it happening there. I know what could and would happen. I know myself and the people I work with. I don't think there is one who would not get between a shooter and their students. I don't think there is one who, like the principal and counselor at Sandy Hook, wouldn't have run towards the sound of gunfire.

It's a cliche, but our children are a precious resource. They are far more precious than the right to own a combat weapon. Nobody needs a Bushmaster rifle to protect their home or their property.
Some people, including myself, like to joke about "the coming zombie apocalypse", but it's not going to happen, and in reality, nobody needs to be able to fire 30+ rounds. If you want to disagree, fine. But you will not change my mind on this. If it comes to a choice between saving lives and having combat weapons, I'm going with lives every time. Some like to say "He could have done it anyway, even if that gun was illegal.", as if a crime must be 100% prevented for a preventative law to be passed.

I don't know the answer. But I do know that it's multifaceted. There is more than one problem that needs to be treated. The fact that agree this happened, people ran out to buy up Bushmaster rifles points to what our true problem is. The worship of violence has to stop. It HAS to!


Sunday, December 09, 2012

What am I doing?

I am writing this post. I need to be working on my lesson for the week. I don't know why I have such a hard time planning. Too many distractions, I guess. I haven't updated in ages. Life has been incredibly stressful lately. I sort of feel like I've lost my mind. There were a few times I really wanted to write something brilliant, but I got distracted and it never happened. Distraction seems to be a way of life for me these days. I can't seem to get anything done. I'm going to get tested for adult ADD. Because it's to the point where I can't continue. Talking about it is kind of embarrassing, but the added requirements of my job are piling up, and they are going to bite me on the butt soon if I don't do SOMETHING. It's the holiday season, but instead of joy and peace, I just feel stressed out. It's coming on too fast, and I'm not really ready for it. I know, I know, nobody is. Nobody ever is. But even so, it bugs me. I hate that, besides the time off, I don't really look forward to the holidays anymore. I can't think of an ending. But I gotta go plan.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Meritocracy

First, go read THIS.

This is a comment I left on that blog. It turned long, and I'm reposting it here. Read. Enjoy. Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm full of crap.

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What we all need to do is start using the word "lucky". Hayes is right. As a left wing hippie liberal, these things have always seemed obvious to me. But I never really imagined they weren't obvious for everyone. We can change this.

I'm a teacher, and when you study education you learn about multiple intelligences (Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences). It's true, EVERYONE has some merit in some area. We have a problem in that we do not acknowledge that. Our children's "merit" is based on test scores. These tests are based on a very few areas of intelligence. The political landscape in America is desperate to find a cookie cutter solution to all the problems of education. This might be the Holy Grail of meritocracy, a simple test that determines a person's value. But like the Holy Grail, it is a myth. There will never be a cookie cutter solution, and even if there were, it would never be a multiple choice test.

But I'm an art teacher. I have students that could not do well on a standardized test to save their lives, but they draw pictures that could be museum-worthy. Unfortunately, a lot of them do not have the means or the ability to market that talent. In particular, I'm thinkng of two of my special education kids. Their lives are likely going to be difficult. People are going to judge them on their appearance and their speech before they ever get a chance to prove themselves. Even though they have merit, their merit is not likely to make them rich, or even self sufficient. The ladder will likely be pulled up on them before they ever even get a look at it simply because they were not fortunate enough to be born "normal".

In America, He Who Has/Makes the Most Money is "The Best". How many times have you heard a song on the radio, a really terrible, cheezy pop song, or some totally rehashed and uninspired rock ballad, and said "I really don't like this artist. His/her music kinda makes me want to hurl", and some jerk at the office will say "Yeah well, he's got a lot of money from making that music you hate". It's the same with people who just happen to be wealthy. Say, "Donald Trump is really annoying", and the same idiot will say "Yeah but he's rich", as if that meant anything. As if the fact that the person has made money automatically gives them merit, and there is something wrong with YOU for not agreeing and participating in the cult of wealth worship.

When this kind of discussion comes up, from now on, I will use the words "fortunate", and "lucky" in my reply. I believe the first step in addressing this is all about getting the idea into the collective consciousness. It's not an exact parallel, but if you look at the gay marriage issue, you can see what I am talking about. Support for gay marriage has flipped in a mere five years, simply because people started talking about it. When I was in college in the 90s, it wasn't that people didn't support gay marriage, it was just that talking about it was kind of like wishing pigs could fly. Nobody ever imagined it would happen in our lifetimes. Gay friends joked about going to the Netherlands to marry. People had committment ceremonies. Long term partners raised children, grew old, and died together believing that they had all that was or could ever be available to them as families. Now, equality seems that it will be a reality. The more people talk about it, and the longer we have it, the more people see that same sex marriage is not The End of the World.

If we talk about luck and fortune in relation to the meritocracy, it WILL seep into people's subconcious, and it WILL become part of the conversation. This is how we start. Get to it people!

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Murder

It was another dream. Brought on by the book, I'm sure. I thought "How could she be so sure no one was still in the house?". Turns out I was right. We three were there, in the dark. Just getting in. We made the same mistake. We didn't even turn the lights on. We went upstairs but he chased us back down. An elderly man. Wearing a hat. We tripped and collided with each other trying to get out. He cut her in the back. She had fallen on me and I saw her shocked, dying face.

This is where I woke up. Why I've suddenly started having nightmares again is a mystery to me. Not much has changed other than school ending. I'm trying to remember to write them down. But I've lost a few. Maybe I didn't really want to remember them.

Monday, April 16, 2012

TM, GZ, FL, hoodies, Skittles, and the whole damn mess we're trying to ignore...

I've started this and abandoned it, started, abandoned, several times. A sure sign that something is bothering me, and I need to finish it.

Some of my students, from kindergarten on up through 5th grade, wear hoodies. Actually, that's not true. MOST of my students wear hoodies. I have to make them take their hoods off sometimes. I joke "It's not raining in here!" They laugh. We go on with whatever it is we were doing. Now I am afraid I will always think in the back of my mind an additional caution that I can never speak.

"You could get killed for that."

Ironic, because sometimes they will wear their hoodies, hoods up on warm, beautiful days because they want to hide from something. Something has upset them, and they don't want to talk to or look at anyone. To me, they look much more like turtles than tough guys.

What I do know of some of their home lives would send most adults running and screaming to jump in a river. They see it as a shield of sorts. Armor. A bulletproof jacket that will shield them from all teasing, abuse, and pain. If only it really worked.

This kind of thing keeps me up at night. I know it shouldn't. I know what my mom would say "Just don't think about it. Don't read those stories. You do what you can." Etc. And she is right. But not worrying is just not in my nature, just as sleeping doesn't appear to be. If I didn't think about this stuff, something else would be keeping me awake.

With all the bile and vitriol I've read, I can't help but hurt my heart. It's just an article of clothing. The imaginary conversation goes like this:

"What is "suspicious" about a damn hood? "

"Well, you know, criminals wear hoodies."

"Yes, criminals also wear tennis shoes and underwear."

"But I wear tennis shoes and underwear too. No, tennis shoes and underwear are not suspicious, hoodies are suspicious."

"But I wear hoodies, and I'm a 40 year old white woman. I think I own three, actually. And I've never been arrested for anything."

"Well, oh come on. You know what I'm talking about."

And the true answer is no, I don't. I truly do not. Hoodies are not specific to one segment of the population.  Their ubiquity is undeniable to anyone with their eyes open. Oh if only more people would open their eyes. That goes for a lot of things, obviously. Not just hoodies.

(This is not one of my students)  copyright - Daily misery

Children are killed every day in this country, and for no reason. I should just shake my head, tsk tsk, and go on my way like a Good American. Of all the kids killed over nothing, this one, and the response I've seen to it, just seems emblematic of the entire problem. We do not value our young.

Oh sure, people value their own children, and their friends children, and the other children in their extended families. But in general, as a whole, America does not see it's children as a high priority. Our attitudes towards education (treating it as a rainy day fund for political promises) and health care ("young and healthy" people don't need no stinkin' health care dangit!) are prime examples. 

On the other hand, we also treat our elderly like crap. I ask you, dear internets, what nation can survive if it treats both it's elderly and it's young like trash? 

No wonder I don't sleep. I suppose I'll have to come back to this topic, I feel this could be better expressed. But because I am still expected to show up for work in the morning, I'm going to turn the lights out and toss and turn for a few hours.