The Greatest Guest Post Ever

I feel immensely blessed to introduce today's guest post.  This post comes from a former student who wrote this piece in response to criticism that I received regarding this blog and my profession.  I am so grateful to Maggie for her kind and inspiring words.  I hope that the following post inspires and moves all readers the way it encouraged me.  Maggie's words make me want to be a better person, and I thank her exceedingly for seeing me as I believe I am.  This post brought tears to my eyes, and filled me with both deep hurt and vast happiness. I feel hurt that we live in a world that persistently and painfully insists I am incapable of being both an individual with bipolar disorder and a highly competent, inspiring educator. I feel happiness I know otherwise, and Maggie’s words contradict such ignorance and judgment so articulately.  I hope that Maggie will continue to write her own hurt and share her stories, as I truly believe words offer such help and healing, which Maggie also brilliantly attests to here.  So, thank you yet again, Maggie, and thanks to all of my continued readers.  I appreciate your support!

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From the very first day of my sophomore English class, Mrs. ----- left an impression on me. Most of what was in her syllabus was the same as other classes: respect your teacher, come on time, and make up your missed work. But for the first time in a classroom I was in, Mrs. ---- clearly stated that the words “gay” or “retarded” were not acceptable. As a young teen, susceptible to peer-pressure, I had used these words without giving them a thought to their damage because I heard everyone else say them. I was surprised initially when I read that on her syllabus, mostly because no one in that school had ever corrected me or my fellow students when using them. I thought what’s the big deal? These words don’t hurt anyone; they are just words. (Yes, my mom did teach me better than that, but I guess I was still naive.) Another student had the same thoughts as I and questioned Mrs. ---- in a rude manner. I will never forget what she said to him: “Using those words for a synonym for stupid is unacceptable.  Whether intended or not, there’s an implication there that is painful. I don’t care if it doesn’t offend you; it may offend someone in this room. This is a safe place for all of you and I intend to keep it that way. I will not tolerate abusive language in my classroom.” And that’s when it clicked for me that I was guilty of this, that it was hurting someone, and so I stopped. (Thank you, Mrs. ----!)

Every day I went to her class, I learned something new and had a few laughs. She was always honest with us and pushed us to be our best. The worst comment I ever got on a paper from her was “I know you can do better than this.” She was right, of course, because I wrote it the night before. She was the kind of teacher that inspired you to do better work because she believed in her students, and she helped us to recognize our own talents, and not because of recognition or the effects to one’s GPA.  I enjoyed her so much that I took two advanced debate classes when I was not quite confident in my abilities as a speaker or writer. I was nervous and unsure of myself constantly, but I tried. I was far from great at debate, but Mrs. ---- showed me how to have some fun with it when it actually scared me to death. At the end of the class, I even got “The Best Listener Award.” When she gave it to me, she announced, “This girl hears everything, even when it seems like she’s not paying attention at all.  You guys (my classmates) think she goofs around a lot, but you underestimate her.” She had figured me out in those three years of being her student, and I am still very proud of that award!

I graduated that year and lost contact with Mrs. ----, whom I now know as Angela. Sometime last year, I found her blog online and was a little bit startled by the content because I was so used to seeing her as this incredibly professional teacher.  When reading her blog, I was first taken off guard when I read the word “fuck,” and her writing also shook me out of my comfort zone, and discussed a lot of darker content. However, it was hard not to love her words.  She spoke of many traumatic things I had faced in my life with a fresh, humorous perspective. In each post, I found deeper themes of strength, individuality, hope, passion, and compassion. She was so real -- so unapologetically herself -- that I couldn’t wait for her to post another story every week.  I never felt she was encouraging her readers to use foul language or act irresponsibly.  Rather, she was encouraging us to be true to ourselves and stay strong, to stand up for what we believe in, and to find happiness and joy in a world that is often unfair.

What she didn’t know until after I became one of her biggest fans, was that I grew up in an abusive home. I watched my mother be humiliated and beaten in front of me since I was nine, and I got verbal abuse every day after school. I had low self-esteem and was very depressed. As a high school student, Mrs. ---‘s classes gave me something to look forward to every day when I got up for school. Now, years later, reading her stories of mental illness and the multitude of struggles she has overcome, Mrs. --- continues to inspire me so much. I said to myself, if she can beat this, so can I. She followed her dreams; she didn’t let anyone tell her she couldn’t do something. She became who she wanted, not who others told her she had to be. Her honest and hopeful words have opened up an entirely new world of possibilities for me.

So thank you, Angela, for showing us who you are completely. You are an inspiration to me and I’m sure plenty of others out there. Thank you for having the strength and courage to show yourself when the world tells you to stop. You amaze me in many ways.

And to all you former or current students of hers out there reading this: there will come a time in your life when someone else will try to diminish your flame, like some people have tried to do here. They will try to force you or ask you to give up that thing that makes you different, that thing that makes you feel alive. Whether it’s because they don’t understand it, they wish they had it, or purely out of animosity and don’t want you to be happy, they are going to try to change you. Don’t let them. Everybody is somebody special. Yes, even you. You are special. You are someone no one else is, and that’s important to the world. (Yes, I still stand by this even if you’ve read this entire post wishing I would shut up already. You are special too, even though you are a turd.) Please don’t change who you are because it may be easier, cooler, or more convenient, because one day you may wake up and not know the person staring back at you in the mirror. We live in a world where everyone is pressured to fit a certain mold. I say fuck the mold! It’s okay to be different. And it’s okay to be you!

But with this realization, you also must also recognize that just like you, others have a right to be different, too. When you see someone be unfearfully themselves, embrace the shit out of that. Don’t ask someone to blow out their fire because you don’t get it or it makes you uncomfortable. Do you even realize how beautiful that is? It is not easy being different. It’s not easy to stand out in a society that wants everyone to be the same. It’s not easy to have a voice when the world shouts at you to be silent. It’s not easy to do the right thing when the wrong thing is considered the norm. It’s not easy, but it is so worth it.

So I ask of all of you, please fan that fire, that fire that warms your soul and makes you feel at home, that fire that screams individuality, that fire that is only dangerous when it is runs out. Fan the fire, in others and within yourself. Celebrate it when you see it and love it!

I hope to celebrate Angela’s fiery spirit, and her words, for much longer; I hope you will join me. 

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I would like to thank Maggie yet again for this wonderful post! I would also like to make you all aware that I will be posting infrequently throughout the summer as I will be working on my graduate degree during summer session, as well as (hopefully) devoting more of my writing to one project for possible publication. Therefore, should any of my readers have an interest in guest blogging, please message me via facebook.  I would love to host your words.  I would be especially interested in hosting more former students, as I know there are many skilled writers among you.  I hope to have Maggie returning too with her own stories.  Please leave her comments and feedback on this post! 

My Little Lucy Pevensie: A Celebration of International Children's Book Day

When I was young, my mother bought me a beautiful leather bound illustrated edition of Edgar Allan Poe’s Tales of Mystery and Imagination.  I suppose such works might be considered rather dark for an eight-year-old girl, but I devoured and adored those tales.  It was probably this book, more than any other, which made me fall in love with the world of fiction and all its wonderment.  Actually, she bought this book for my brother, and gave me the Arabian Nights, but I preferred Poe, just as I too prefer to tell this story slant.  Regardless of who was truly the recipient of that book, it remains a treasure of mine, and now sits on my bookshelves. 

My brother and I were both avid readers in our youth, sharing all the childhood classics like J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis.  She also bought us annotated versions of classic tales such as Moby Dick, Treasure Island, A Tale of Two Cities, Pride and Prejudice, and the like.  It was a charming and appropriately age adapted collection that I was so sad to learn she had donated to Goodwill years ago.  I would have been positively delighted if my children were now able to read those very same editions.  Despite this one disappointment, I cannot possibly thank my mother enough for instilling a love of reading in me.

What was your favorite childhood book?

I believe it is incredibly important that we read to our children, and I have most certainly made this a priority in our household.  As today celebrates International Children’s Book Day, it is an appropriate occasion to reflect upon my own memories with the written word, as I now continue to build a strong adoration of literature in my own two children. 

Although she is only age three, I have already introduced Emily to Tolkien and Lewis.  She was a very attentive audience as I read The Hobbit aloud to her, asking quite insightful questions about the dragon, and continually requesting, “You let me see that map again, Momma,” turning to the front of the book and analyzing the illustrated cover pages, “So this where that dragon live, Momma?”  Only once did she bore of the story and wish to retire to bed early, stating, “No more this Bilbo story!” 

Currently, Emily and I have been reading The Chronicles of Narnia together.  We are on book five of the seven book series.  She will race into bed with me at night and ask, “Can we read some more about Shasta and the horsy, Momma?”  During books two and three, this question was, “Momma, you ready to read to me about Reepicheep?”  Her excitement and enthusiasm over these tales gives me immense delight.

Emily is my little Lucy Pevensie, with a heart and mind full of the wonder of youth and the wisdom of age.  She constantly amazes me, and I wish I could capture her innocent wonder and trust, just as C.S. Lewis captured the valiant traits of Lucy on the pages of his beloved fictional books.  

As you are likely aware, the world of Narnia was also captured on film with the 2005 release of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, starring Tilda Swinton.  It was this past weekend that I first viewed this film.  My parents had a copy of it among their DVDs and my daughter noticed it and requested to watch “the Aslan movie.”  The film has slightly more exposition than the novel, beginning with scenes of the Second World War, and the Blitz bombings which led to the children’s evacuation to the countryside.  As the scenes rolled across the television screen, Emily informed her grandfather, “Grandpa, I think this the wrong movie.  Where is the magic?  Where is Aslan?”  We told her to be patient, and her beloved Aslan did soon appear, much to her great excitement.  “It’s Aslan!” she squealed in delight, “There he is!”  When the youngest Pevensie first appeared on screen, she eagerly asked, “Is that Lucy?  Lucy is my favorite!” 

Lucy is my favorite too.

As the film closed and the credits began to roll, my daughter looked to my spouse to question, “That’s it, Daddy?  I don’t want this movie done.  Where is Reepicheep? I want to see Reepicheep!”  Reepicheep, the mighty mouse, does not appear until the tales of Prince Caspian in the second book of the series.  However, I found it extremely clever and so deeply endearing that my daughter remembered these characters and made such comments during the film.

While my daughter rules my world and melts my heart on the daily, I did not compose this post merely to brag about what a kick-ass mommy I am and what a “totes-adorb” toddler I have (she is so damn cute, though, you guys). I do not believe or mean to propose that she is a child genius or savant.  I do strongly believe, however, that reading has enhanced her imagination, her academic aptitude, and her whole life.  I know reading has imparted unto me such rich rewards.   A beautiful, bold imagination and a curious, sharp mind are not unattainable skills bestowed only upon the most genetically brilliant.  A child need only to be provided with the offering of reading and he or she can too possess a daring imagination and tireless thirst for knowledge.  Therefore, this post serves as a public service announcement requesting that all parents bequest onto their children the vision, creativity, and ingenuity that are yielded from a love of reading.

 

Go forth and read, my friends!

 

Time and Freedom to Learn

Yesterday afternoon, a former student posed a question to all of his friends and family on facebook: What would you learn if you were given the time and freedom to learn it? There were a variety of splendid responses to this question, ranging from foreign language to carpentry.   The responses were enjoyable to read, and created in me a renewed desire to gain more knowledge and skills. 

I, myself, feel I am constantly learning and growing.  I have a strong desire for knowledge, which is one of the primary reasons I am such an avid reader.  Even in fiction, there are universal truths to be learned and much to be discovered of different cultures and perspectives.  While most individuals left one sentence responses to the above question, my response was as follows:

Foremost, I would become a more skilled wine aficionado.  I would like to speak a foreign language fluently.  I would learn to be a better gardener and be more self-sufficient.  I would like to learn to build and craft items – to become more skilled with my hands.  I would also like to learn more about publishing so that I can pursue writing more devotedly.  I would learn more about foreign affairs, mythology, and philosophy. I would like to finish reading all of Anais Nin’s and Virginia Woolf’s diaries.  I would also like to write a thesis that fully analyzes every author mention and text allusion in Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451.  You know, just a few things.  I’m always thirsty for knowledge, and constantly reading and learning.   

 

After leaving such a lengthy response, this particular status update still made me pause to consider life and the lessons I so hope to gain from it.  First, I wondered what was truly preventing me from gaining the aforementioned skills and talents.  The most basic answer is time.  Another reason is that my list of interests and knowledge sought is so extensive that other areas have taken priority.  One of the other reasons I haven’t learned all I want from books or manuals is that I have been busy simply living and loving.  I would far rather have my arms wrapped around my son and watch him smile than learn mechanics or carpentry, although both are valuable skills.  However, another truth is that there are some skills I wish I could attain without the work.  I don’t really want to learn reupholstery, for example; I just wish I innately knew how to do it so I could cover the ugly, old, inherited side chair my husband insists on keeping in our basement. 

Upon reflection regarding the reasons we hesitate to gain desired knowledge, I then considered all that I would love to learn, or, more honestly sometimes, simply know.  While a complete list would probably be too extensive, I decided to here list 20 things (in addition to those above) I would learn given the time and freedom:

1.       I would learn how to sew, so I can hem up every single pair of jeans that is too long for me rather than still depending on my mother.

2.       I would learn to play piano, so I can pass this skill onto my children
     who have each expressed a deep interest in music.

3.       I would learn to read music; I’m ashamed that I don’t possess
  this skill after four years of senior choir.

4.       I would learn how to drywall, so that I could complete the
  necessary work in our basement.

5.       I would learn how to speak Spanish fluently, as I have honestly
   learned more from watching Dora the Explorer than I ever did in
  my high school foreign language courses.

6.       I would learn to speak Italian, so that I might enjoy the country more fully when I (hopefully) travel there in the future.

7.       I would learn more about the saints.  I want to understand why each is significant.

8.       I would learn more about politics so that I can more soundly support all of my beliefs and opinions.

9.       I would learn more about foreign affairs and world cultures, as such knowledge creates a more well-rounded, empathetic individual.

      10.   I would learn pottery, as I so admire the work of other artists and all they create with their own two hands.

      11.   I would learn sign language so that I might communicate more effectively with those with differing abilities.

     12.   I would learn basic auto mechanics, so that I am more self-sufficient and less dependent on others.

      13.   I would learn more about the publishing industry, so that I feel more comfortable sharing a completed manuscript.

14.   I would learn more about Ernest Hemingway, whose “swagger” fascinates me, thus more enjoying my (hopeful) future travels to Key West and Paris to visit some of Hemingway’s old haunts.

15.   I would learn more of ancient Greece and the early philosophers.

16.   I would learn more about social media and marketing, so that I could better promote my passion.

17.   I would learn about computer programming and html so that I could create my own blog badge, and other such basic skills that yet confound me.

18.   I would learn geography; I honestly can’t even correctly identify
       the fifty states on a blank map, and I only know a handful of state capitols.

 

19.   I would learn the dates of all my in-law’s birthdays, as my
       husband can’t remember and I have never recorded it, which
       leads to an inevitable argument after he has once again
       forgotten his mother’s birthday and made us both look bad.

20.   I would learn more about birds and flowers, so that I can
       correctly identify each species and plant when my young daughter
       inquires about them with interest.

 

And, now, I present the same question to you:  What would you learn if you were given the time and freedom to learn it?  Please comment and then go forth and accomplish your learning goals!