I miss being productive.
I miss that feeling of accomplishment when I complete something and am able to cross it off my to-do list for the week in my planner.
Finishing a book is great. Getting all the prep work and painting done at the job site is fantastic. But neither of those things quite add up to the feeling I get when my day is chalk full of things to do and one by one I do what I have to do, go where I need to go, and see who I need to see.
To most people, while I am at school, I must seem like one of the busiest people alive. Shooting from place to place, always busy and out of breath, and constantly having something to do. Many people look forward to summer vacation as a time where they can slow down, not have anything to do, and just relax . . . but me? I thrive in chaos. I can't stand to be idle for too long.
This is one of the many reasons I am looking forward to going back to school. Organizing my apartment. Getting everything ready to start classes. Going back to work. And of course, having my friends just a short walk away from my door.
I'm sure you probably think I'm crazy. Who is this girl who wants her vacation to end and is looking forward to being thrown into the insanity that is 20 credit hours, approximately 4 field experiences, a part time job, Teaching Fellows obligations, and of course, friend-time? I can't explain it. I love to be busy and I do my best work the more busy I am. The productivity will come again very soon. And soon enough I will be stressing out, not sleeping, forgetting to eat, and running around like a chicken with its head cut off. And the strange part? I CAN'T WAIT!!
There is one thing, though, that I could never miss. What is it you ask?
Ignorance.
This past weekend as part of my Teaching Fellows scholarship I was required to attend Junior Conference. This is a weekend where all the rising junior teaching fellows from across the state get together at a university (this year it was Elon) and attend lectures and workshops aimed at making them better-rounded and more successful teachers. One of the workshops I signed up for was named "Student Disabilities: Teaching Students to Understand Handicaps."
We had done disability simulations at school where we were able to see how people with different disabilities felt, but I was still interested in seeing what the presenter had to say. First of all, we spent the first seven minutes of the session watching the video for Lady Gaga's "Born This Way." I love Lady Gaga as much as the next person, but this video did absolutely nothing to supplement what we were supposed to be learning about. Then, the presenter proceeded to find a video of Weird Al Yankovich parodying "Born This Way" and she seemed more committed to making sure the video was working than actually wanting to give us information that would make us better teachers.
I could have dealt with all that if it hadn't been for the fact that the presenter was patronizing the use of political correctness when it comes to people with disabilities, NEVER used person-first language when referring to people with disabilities, and was completely ignorant when it came to asking a boy in the session about his Tourette's.
Let me explain.
Patronizing the use of political correctness when it comes to people with disabilities is pretty self explanatory. (not using the word "retard" to label someone with an intellectual disability. not using the word handicapped)
Person-first language is best demonstrated by an example. Instead of saying "a Down's boy" you would say "a boy with Down's." This phrasing implies that a person with a disability is not defined by the label they possess. That the label doesn't make them who they are. That they are simply a person who has to work a bit harder for something than everyone else.
A boy in the session came forward with the fact that he has Tourette's syndrome. Wikipedia tells us that Tourette's syndrome is an inherited neuropsychiatric disorder with onset in childhood, characterized by multiple physical (motor) tics and at least one vocal (phonic) tic. The first question out of her mouth was asking him if he curses. How ignorant does someone have to be? Especially someone who is teaching a seminar on helping our students understand other children with disabilities. Only 5% of people with Tourette's syndrome actually curse as one of their vocal tics . . . but you wouldn't know that if you only got your information from movies that portray people with Tourette's in a comedic way. She should have asked him if he would be comfortable sharing with everyone how his Tourette's represents itself instead of being so blunt in her questioning.
This may not seem like a big deal to most people, but this is my passion. A fellow special education major and myself exchanged glances throughout the entire session and when it was over, we could not believe what had just happened right before us. That there was someone so incredibly ignorant teaching others to understand those with disabilities. Words cannot explain how insulted I felt by her words . . . and I don't even have a disability.
I can try to articulate how this made me feel the best I can . . . but some things simply can't be put into words. Just picture someone's face with them slack-jawed in complete and utter shock and you will get only a smidge of how I actually felt during that 75 minute session.
So here you go folks. Here I am missing productivity and ranting about ignorance.
Such a happy post, huh?
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Mensonges
In French, "mensonges" means "lies."
Dictionary.com defines "lie" as:
–noun
For some reason I have been thinking about lies and lying lately. We all do it . . . whether we mean to or not. A lie could even be withholding a particularly important piece of information. But most of the time? It is completely on purpose. We tell ourselves that we do it just protect the other person from pain or anxiety . . . but really? Our reasons are much more selfish. We lie because it is the easy thing for us to do. We lie to protect ourselves. We lie so that the person we are lying to will still approve of us or not become angry with us.
The most upsetting part about being lied to is most often not the lie itself . . . it is the fact that the person lying to us doesn't think we are worth the truth. They don't think we are deserving enough in their eyes to be told the truth.
**This is where I would make a joke about the French getting it right when it comes to their word for "lies:" "MENsonges. But that would be a lie . . . Women lie just as much as men do. The French could have easily made their word "WOMENsonges." You would think I would be biased and say that all men are liars and cheats . . . but I have seen women do the exact same things men are accused of.**
It becomes scary for us when someone we love and trust lies to us . . . betrays us . . . shows a side of themselves we never thought could exist.
Then what starts happening in our brains (and our hearts)?
Everything is turned upside down and mish-moshed every which way. If someone we trusted completely could lie to us . . . then anyone can . . . so how can we know who to trust and who to keep at an arm's length?
It reminds me of a lyric in a Vanessa Carlton song called Heroes and Thieves. It says:
Dictionary.com defines "lie" as:
–noun
1.
a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; anintentional untruth; a falsehood.
2.
something intended or serving to convey a false impression;imposture: His flashy car was a lie that deceived no one.
3.
an inaccurate or false statement.
For some reason I have been thinking about lies and lying lately. We all do it . . . whether we mean to or not. A lie could even be withholding a particularly important piece of information. But most of the time? It is completely on purpose. We tell ourselves that we do it just protect the other person from pain or anxiety . . . but really? Our reasons are much more selfish. We lie because it is the easy thing for us to do. We lie to protect ourselves. We lie so that the person we are lying to will still approve of us or not become angry with us.
The most upsetting part about being lied to is most often not the lie itself . . . it is the fact that the person lying to us doesn't think we are worth the truth. They don't think we are deserving enough in their eyes to be told the truth.
**This is where I would make a joke about the French getting it right when it comes to their word for "lies:" "MENsonges. But that would be a lie . . . Women lie just as much as men do. The French could have easily made their word "WOMENsonges." You would think I would be biased and say that all men are liars and cheats . . . but I have seen women do the exact same things men are accused of.**
It becomes scary for us when someone we love and trust lies to us . . . betrays us . . . shows a side of themselves we never thought could exist.
Then what starts happening in our brains (and our hearts)?
Everything is turned upside down and mish-moshed every which way. If someone we trusted completely could lie to us . . . then anyone can . . . so how can we know who to trust and who to keep at an arm's length?
It reminds me of a lyric in a Vanessa Carlton song called Heroes and Thieves. It says:
I'm blinded by these
Heroes and thieves at my doorAnd I can't seem to tell them apart anymore
How do we separate the heroes in our lives from the thieves? How do we tell who is here to help us and who is here to hurt?
The answer?
We can't.
But what can we do?
Take comfort in the Lord.
Take comfort in this:
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Shmorgisbord!
Today was one of those never-ending days . . . kind of like The Neverending Story . . . except not.
The day started with my dog jumping on me 20 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. There are two things that should be mentioned here:
1. When my dog jumped on me I was dreaming and in my dream a strange animal was jumping on me and pushing on my bladder. I instantly awake to the bear with the crazy eyes looking right at me . . . ready to play . . . I, however, was DEFINITELY not in the mood to play.
2. Waking up moments before your alarm goes off is one of the most frustrating things EVER! Then, all you can think about is how nice it would have been to have those extra few minutes only to be jolted awake by your favorite song or preset melody of annoyingness. I, for one, always make sure I don't enjoy my wake up song TOO much because I am bound to despise it eventually after it continues to disturb my slumber morning after morning considering sleep is one of my favorite things . . . along with Mcdonalds mango pineapple smoothie (Mcdonalds: you can send the check to my house or give me a lifetime supply of the aforementioned smoothie; either will do) and my planner that keeps me sane and my OCD in check.
After I finally dragged myself out of bed I had to quickly make myself some breakfast (it was an egg and cheese bagel . . . that I made myself . . . not one of those pooptastic frozen things) because my mom and I were going to work with my dad to help him paint and such at the job site. I would say that going to do manual labor was a nice change from hanging out with my friends, reading, and spending time with my puppy . . . but that just isn't the truth. I am by no means a primadonna or a sissy-priss . . . but I believe the Lord gave me intelligence so I could get around cleaning door frames and priming walls. Needless to say, I got the job done. What got me through it? The almighty dollar. I need money to buy a new computer so I will do just about anything at this point so that I can lay the old lady I am currently typing on to rest. It also really didn't help that one of the guys on the crew working outside the house used the bathroom 3 TIMES over the course of the day while his colleagues must have used nature as their toilet (as men are so conveniently able to do). Every time he came in the house my mom would make a comment on how he has the hots for me. OF COURSE, MOM! What guy wouldn't want to get at this? I mean let's get real: every guy is looking for a girl who rolled out of bed and throws a hat on, no makeup, and of course we can't forget the sweet sweet smell of sweat! I know that if I were a guy, that is exactly the type of girl I would go after. I hope I have made it blatantly obvious that sarcasm was all up in THAT!
After working through the day my mom and I came home, I fed the pup (who had come with us to the job site and was being a complete maniac the entire time), and took a shower. Oh, an awesome shower . . . but only after I documented the poofball that was my hair after my mom had french-braided it the night before so it wouldn't get in my way working today:
After my shower my mom said she wanted to show me some stuff that I might be interested in having. She brought out her stash of old jewelry and keepsakes. I got a lot of amazing things (like the original wedding band from when my parents got married over 35 years ago . . . they have new ones, don't worry). But, there are two things I would like to share with you! The first is a ring that is actually made of ivory! If you live under a rock you should know that ivory (which comes from an elephant's tusk) is illegal to harvest now. Unfortunately the ring is too big for my teeny tiny fingers, but I plan to find a chain for it. The ring belonged to my dad a really long time ago . . . so it is kind of like carrying him with me wherever I go.
The second is one of the coolest pendants I have ever seen. I'm not sure exactly what it is yet, but I know when I ask my dad about it there will be a story for me to hear. I plan on also finding a chain for this also.
I love it when my mom breaks out all the old stuff she has and tells me stories.
Also, yesterday I spent almost the entire day reading and eventually finishing The Hunger Games. I had heard they were making a movie out of the book, but I had never heard of it before. This is one of those books you get so into you feel like you are actually there with the characters . . . feeling what they are feeling . . . being happy when they are happy . . . sad when they are sad . . . and even wishing you could find someone like Peeta (read it and you will know what I mean). I couldn't be happier about reading this book and can't wait to read the second part of the trilogy, called Catching Fire.
My night has ended by watching Pretty Little Liars (which is getting more and more suspenseful by the moment) and writing this blog. I shall now do some reading in a book I'm trying out called Leftovers. I say that I'm trying it out because I am unsure as to if it is actually worth reading or if I should move on to the other books on my list like Jodi Picoult's Handle with Care, Water for Elephants, and the four books in the Lord of the Rings set.
The dilemmas in my life are life or death aren't they?
I leave you with this thought:
Do you feel a sense of accomplishment when you pick off a piece of paint that is on your skin from the day's activities? These are the things that haunt me!
The day started with my dog jumping on me 20 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. There are two things that should be mentioned here:
1. When my dog jumped on me I was dreaming and in my dream a strange animal was jumping on me and pushing on my bladder. I instantly awake to the bear with the crazy eyes looking right at me . . . ready to play . . . I, however, was DEFINITELY not in the mood to play.
2. Waking up moments before your alarm goes off is one of the most frustrating things EVER! Then, all you can think about is how nice it would have been to have those extra few minutes only to be jolted awake by your favorite song or preset melody of annoyingness. I, for one, always make sure I don't enjoy my wake up song TOO much because I am bound to despise it eventually after it continues to disturb my slumber morning after morning considering sleep is one of my favorite things . . . along with Mcdonalds mango pineapple smoothie (Mcdonalds: you can send the check to my house or give me a lifetime supply of the aforementioned smoothie; either will do) and my planner that keeps me sane and my OCD in check.
After I finally dragged myself out of bed I had to quickly make myself some breakfast (it was an egg and cheese bagel . . . that I made myself . . . not one of those pooptastic frozen things) because my mom and I were going to work with my dad to help him paint and such at the job site. I would say that going to do manual labor was a nice change from hanging out with my friends, reading, and spending time with my puppy . . . but that just isn't the truth. I am by no means a primadonna or a sissy-priss . . . but I believe the Lord gave me intelligence so I could get around cleaning door frames and priming walls. Needless to say, I got the job done. What got me through it? The almighty dollar. I need money to buy a new computer so I will do just about anything at this point so that I can lay the old lady I am currently typing on to rest. It also really didn't help that one of the guys on the crew working outside the house used the bathroom 3 TIMES over the course of the day while his colleagues must have used nature as their toilet (as men are so conveniently able to do). Every time he came in the house my mom would make a comment on how he has the hots for me. OF COURSE, MOM! What guy wouldn't want to get at this? I mean let's get real: every guy is looking for a girl who rolled out of bed and throws a hat on, no makeup, and of course we can't forget the sweet sweet smell of sweat! I know that if I were a guy, that is exactly the type of girl I would go after. I hope I have made it blatantly obvious that sarcasm was all up in THAT!
After working through the day my mom and I came home, I fed the pup (who had come with us to the job site and was being a complete maniac the entire time), and took a shower. Oh, an awesome shower . . . but only after I documented the poofball that was my hair after my mom had french-braided it the night before so it wouldn't get in my way working today:
After my shower my mom said she wanted to show me some stuff that I might be interested in having. She brought out her stash of old jewelry and keepsakes. I got a lot of amazing things (like the original wedding band from when my parents got married over 35 years ago . . . they have new ones, don't worry). But, there are two things I would like to share with you! The first is a ring that is actually made of ivory! If you live under a rock you should know that ivory (which comes from an elephant's tusk) is illegal to harvest now. Unfortunately the ring is too big for my teeny tiny fingers, but I plan to find a chain for it. The ring belonged to my dad a really long time ago . . . so it is kind of like carrying him with me wherever I go.
The second is one of the coolest pendants I have ever seen. I'm not sure exactly what it is yet, but I know when I ask my dad about it there will be a story for me to hear. I plan on also finding a chain for this also.
I love it when my mom breaks out all the old stuff she has and tells me stories.
Also, yesterday I spent almost the entire day reading and eventually finishing The Hunger Games. I had heard they were making a movie out of the book, but I had never heard of it before. This is one of those books you get so into you feel like you are actually there with the characters . . . feeling what they are feeling . . . being happy when they are happy . . . sad when they are sad . . . and even wishing you could find someone like Peeta (read it and you will know what I mean). I couldn't be happier about reading this book and can't wait to read the second part of the trilogy, called Catching Fire.
My night has ended by watching Pretty Little Liars (which is getting more and more suspenseful by the moment) and writing this blog. I shall now do some reading in a book I'm trying out called Leftovers. I say that I'm trying it out because I am unsure as to if it is actually worth reading or if I should move on to the other books on my list like Jodi Picoult's Handle with Care, Water for Elephants, and the four books in the Lord of the Rings set.
The dilemmas in my life are life or death aren't they?
I leave you with this thought:
Do you feel a sense of accomplishment when you pick off a piece of paint that is on your skin from the day's activities? These are the things that haunt me!
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