Challenges

Loving ourselves and loving our world... even when we're overwhelmed?

(Amber's hands)

~ Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.~

Marianne Williamson (adapted)

Alternative post title: My life has been in such a state !!!

(Am I "playing small"?)

The gate's closed-tied by vines and blocked by weeds.

So much to overcome in life...

this is a view of the gate from the back; it used to be called the Pig House (I try not to take it personally!). Now it is filled with plants-volunteers- there are always plenty of them! (The weeds do take over!)

It's a jungle.

And my little terraced garden? Overgrown and neglected.

~~~A garden overgrown (and under-tended)~~~~

Sometimes the work just piles up... (and it's not just housework and gardenwork)

When I get too much stress, my mind just goes blank...I'm like the deer caught in the car's headlights...a part of me want's to scream at myself...Get it together...

WATCH Out!!! MOVE!

I need to be alone, breathe, and just re-evaluate.

Don't you wish life came with signposts?

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Amber has a project this weekend for her Human Development class. Last night, we were up every two hours because the baby is programed to cry and she needs pretend diaper changes, food, and various other necessities that must be recorded-time/event-IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. I tried to help Amber wake up...we were so tired because our schedules are packed once school begins.

I'm so proud of her...that's what I need to focus on.

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If you have ever worked in another country, you know how difficult it is to process paperwork. This week, we recieved news that our work contracts weren't processed, our taxes had an error so no refund, and bill collectors don't like to wait.

Isn't it true that most things seem to pile up?

I don't notice the stress-on purpose-but then I suddenly go brain-numb. I realize I've gone to the OTHER SIDE... I can't think.

"Do something!"...I hear in my head...my concentration goes cloudy...I focus on what's in front of me...I look tired, unhappy---peevish---Wake up!!!

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Speaking of cars...

We had a flat tire on the way in to work this week.

Who is that squating down? Oh- that's our oldest child, Alex, still half asleep at 6am. (I hope he's alert by the time school begins.) He's "helping". Do you remember that scene from A Christmas Story? The older boy, Ralphie, was told that he could help his father change a flat tire (in record time) and the bolt's flew everywhere? (That's the scene where Ralphie said "the queen mother of all dirty words. The f--- word!" ) In this case, our sleepy boy-man is little help in a flat tire crisis...sigh... and his father is addressing the Queen Mother.

It's a good thing that Mr. Oasis knows how to change a tire.

We commute two to three hours each morning...

While the tension of being late built up, I walked over to a nearby flamboyan tree.

Focus on beauty...that's my calm down strategy.

Ah, isn't that Maria Von Trapp's wisdom from The Sound of Music?

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May we all have a productive week ahead, dear bloggers friends, and not too much stress!

La Bamba; Confidence and Self-Importance

Self-importance is our greatest enemy. Think about it - what weakens us is feeling offended by the deeds and misdeeds of our fellowmen. Our self-importance requires that we spend most of our lives offended by someone.

Carlos Castaneda Anthropologist and Writer

University of California

Do you remember in the movie, "La Bamba" when Ritchie's mother, Connie Valenzuela gets offended because the band does not allow her son to play solo at an evening garage performance? Ricki jumps in the car where his whole family is waiting and she asks, "What did they mean ...not letting you play, Ritchie?" He says, "Don't worry, I'll get them to listen." Connie is angry, though, and she says, "My Grandfather was a full blooded Yaqui Indian..."

I aways smile when I think of that pride. What is it? Mother's pride? Family pride? Some part of me knows that it does not really matter how you came into this world and which group of people you belong to...but another part can relate to that indignant mother! Respect! It's like Aretha Franklin R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

(Photo Yaqui People C1910 Mexico)

I'm thinking about confidence and balancing our needs with the needs of others....of knowing that you can make a difference in your own life and in the lives of others....of putting yourself out in the world. I think many of us are born with a introverted character, we have to learn to express our needs. Others are born with an extroverted tendency and may overlook the needs of others. Neither is necessarily better because we have to learn balance, either way. I know some people who keep giving until they harm themselves...and others who tightly hold on to what they have -but the universe or chance creates hardship and loss anyway. Perhaps, teaching generosity to some children is difficult in some way but so is teaching children to stand up for themselves and be noticed.

Many years ago, when my daughter was singing at a small theatre for a school function, I watched her get pushed away from the microphone by a more aggressive singing partner. (I have it on film so it's clear in my memory.) The other girl's parents had the shame of their daughter's public behavior to deal with but the girl who pushed was the one who was heard the most. I kept thinking that my daughter should have moved back toward the microphone and tried to sing again instead of staying in the background. I always wonder what is the right guidance to give in those situations. I didn't want my daughter to grow up into an aggressive personality but I did want her to know how to stand up for herself. She's turned out fine but I still wonder how to handle pushy people in the world.

As a shy child, I had to learn how to stand up for myself. My mother frequently commented about my own sensitive ways. She used to say, "I worry about you. You need to toughen up!" I think I must have gotten much bolder in my teen years but I remember feeling the need of support before I could try something new. I waited for friends to say, "Hey, you can do it!" I think you miss a lot of opportunities when you need to wait for someone else to discover your talents and encourage you to move ahead. Sometimes even people you love just don't want you to excel too much . Why is that? I'm naive a bit- when someone tells me it's control and jealousy, I don't want to believe it. Usually, I just look away and try not to notice. I think maybe my daughter does that too. It's a strategy. I don't know if it's the best one.

What do you think about confidence and self-importance? Sometimes when it comes to my children, I'm like Ritchie's mother, Connie Valenzuela. Do you remember when she was imagining for her son and she looked up into the sky while visualizing, "Ricky Vallenzuela and his Flying Guitar?" She's dreaming big for her child...her cause...

Back to School with Mr. Smart

A Pep Talk For the

Disappointed Teacher

With everyone here at home returning to school, I've started to think about how people impact each other's lives, particularly those in the teacher's role. I've seen many movies that pay tribute to a special teacher, or read books that explain how this teacher/student relationship influenced them in their lives. Personally, I've been a teacher/professor, tutor, counselor or some type of student advisor for most of my adult life and so I've had the opportunity to observe this situation. I've decided that though the movie teacher (hyped) type does exist in some way, those stories that strike me as the most authentic are the ones that feature real people who give every appearance of being ordinary. I think that it is usually unlikely to find a Jamie Escalante (Edward James Olmos), the physics and math teacher of Stand and Deliver, or an East Harlem violin teacher like Roberta Guaspari (Meryl Streep) of Music of the Heart, or even a more realistic and ambivalent teacher like, Glenn Holland (Richard Dreyfuss) of Mr. Holland's Opus. I think the more common situation is that a teacher makes a difference in a person's life (or vice versa) but neither of them quite realize it's significance at the time. Upon reflection, I've noticed that people who have made an impact on my life really didn't notice or know about the "event". Sometimes teachers will never know what a difference they make. Why? We're not prescient fortune tellers (usually?!) so we don't know for sure what will be applied later on in life. Accepting this insight creates a positive kind of faith that our everyday interactions with each other are important.

A Story About An Ordinary Teacher...

Most of the time we think there has to be a special relationship between the teacher and student for a profound impact to be felt but this is not always the case. A teacher can influence a child without it being readily apparent or particularly special to the student at the time the relationship occurs. To illustrate what I mean, let us consider the tweed-jacket-with-patched-elbows-wearing Mr. Grant Smart. He was an English teacher at Huron High school who made a great difference in my life even though I wouldn't say we had a special relationship. As an understated quiet person, he was interesting because he seemed so unpretentious, thoughtful and open to students. He was evenhanded and though I would have liked him to take more time with me, I don't think he was especially interested in my life. He had many students who would demand his attention and sometimes I was shy. Because he was a favorite teacher of a few students that I admired up close but still couldn't call friends, I was brought into his sphere of influence though I remained on the social skirts of this group.

One year, he was convinced by a group of seniors to have a poetry class elective. As as a tenth grader, I wasn't allowed to attend. However, often I would sit with the students and participate in the class. When spring fever hit the school, he was willing to conduct his class outside on the grass. We had a portable record player which continuously played John Denver's Sunshine on my Shoulders. I remember his bearded face and his expression, which sort of looked like a pained, "Sunshine on my Shoulders makes me unhappy" statement. He was tired of the repetitious drone, though he endured the song over and over again to our adolescent delight. I was enchanted by the novelty of an outdoor class listening to John Denver under the sun, and it inspired me to write poetry.

One time, I went with my sister and some students to Mr. Smart's little crowded house in the country to pick up some school supplies. A hushed word was passed around by those who knew that Mrs. Smart was suffering from some kind of mental disorder where she spoke incessantly and 'didn't always make sense'. We made our way into the kitchen where Mr. Smart offered us Mr. Snow's Clam Chowder from a can, touting it to be the best clam chowder in the world. We timidly ate a little of the soup with oyster crackers. While eating, I realized that his wife was 'too nervous' to cook or even heat up the soup. She was hovering around the table excitedly trying to assist and he asked her several times to quiet down. Part of her 'problem' (as we talked about it later) was that she collected boxes of random stuff which filled the house. It made the living space exceedingly small. We all tried to be unobtrusive in the tightly packed space and especially polite so that Mr. Smart wouldn't feel embarrassed. At the time, I admired that he took care of her instead of abandoning her to some institutional system. Now I think he needed some support to cope, and maybe some medical help to improve her condition. However, his decision to 'go it alone' was understandable because we didn't really trust psychologists at the time. We left his house in subdued awe knowing that life can bring great personal challenges.

I took an independent study course with Mr. Smart and read John Steinbeck's, The Grapes of Wrath. I received a B+ in an easy A one credit course because I was so despondent about the subject matter, I couldn't get through the material fast enough. (I also read Cannery Row and Of Mice and Men). I tried to understand the character's hopelessness but I didn't like their life perspective. I became determined not to be like those hopeless (or filled with false hope) fictional people when it came to my own life. Though I received a lower grade than I had hoped, I accepted my B+ as the proper compensation for my less than optimum effort-and for this necessary life lesson.

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You may remember, To Sir With Love (1967), a teacher-hero movie based on the true story of Mark Thackeray (Sidney Poitier), which some say is overly fictionalized. In the narrative, a British Guyanese teacher (who really is an engineer) is forced to take a teaching job at a London working class inner city school because of racial prejudice. (You may have to overlook a few scenes that are explicitly gender biased; though it may not bother everyone.) What makes the movie so satisfying is that both the teacher and students finally realize how important he was in their development as self-respecting adults.---And the fact that he joins in the school dance. (How cute is that?)

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Bolster Your Spirits :-)

If you are interested and/or a teacher, read Frank McCourt's, Teacher Man for a realistic and often funny look at the teaching life. Also, as an antidote to John Steinbeck's harsh realism, try his Journal of a Novel (1969), which is a daily record of his creation process during the writing of East of Eden. Just picturing him sitting at his carefully made table, 8am-3pm every day, worrying over sharpened pencils, and taking spontaneous walks out in the open air makes me cheer up the disappointed adolescent-Steinbeck-reader who still haunts me.

As a teacher, parent, and shared participant in world life, these thoughts make me realizes that change is sometimes difficult and slow but it can happen-maybe not in movie time but can happen, nonetheless. It's good to make the effort to help and not be so worried about immediate results. After all, we don't measure life wisdom the same way we measure academic test results.

The movie photo is part of a group; more To Sir With Love movie photos can be accessed at the school dance photo stream link I provided within this text.