What Did T. Read in 2022?

 




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Elefanté

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Once upon a time there lived a woman for whom irony was more than just a literary term. It was a way of life. This woman turned down a teaching job making $80,000 a year because the offer was for 7th grade and she very much wanted to teach high school. So she took a job teaching high school for far less, then fell victim to budget cuts. She then had to beg every principal she could find to give her a job teaching anything.  When she finally found a job, it was for — you guessed it — 7th grade. Only for far, far less money.  That, my friends, is irony. Once upon a time, this woman was ghosted by not one, not two, but three men in a row. The world of online matching had made it impossible to find anyone who would actually show up for a date, let alone follow through when they said they'd love to see you again. But eventually, one dude did show up! He was there when and where he said he would be, and they drank some beers and discussed Life. It turned out that they had much in c...
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Tips

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After traveling around a bit in the last decade, I have managed to come up with a few travel tips. These are mostly for me to remember, but maybe they'll help you, too :-) * Pack earplugs. For me, it's the slim-fit kind, otherwise my ear canals get crushed. These will save you on the plane and in hostels or bnb's within the city center, where it's loud. * Bring a backup charger. We got one for Christmas at Persimmon one year and it saved my life on this last trip! * Everything you need should fit into a carry-on. There is no reason to bring things like a hair dryer, a steamer, a curling iron, a bunch of jewelry, etc. That's crazy-talk. You are traveling to experience a new culture, not to bring your old culture with you!! It will be so much easier to get where you need to go if you're not lugging a bunch of crap all over the place. * You need no more than 3 pairs of shoes, so choose wisely. For 2 1/2 weeks in Europe, I took sneakers, flat sandals, and water shoe...
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Reverdie - Regreening

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The word reverdie  refers to a type of poetry common in the Middle Ages. The word literally means "re-greening." This literature was a celebration of the return of spring. It was important because 500 years ago, the life-expectancy was a good 4 decades lower than it is now. There was a greater chance that you wouldn't survive the harsh and unforgiving winter than that you would. So, those who were still alive when the narcissus and crocus started blooming had enormous cause to celebrate. They had survived another bout of the Dark, and Life was coming back into the world! Reverdie. It very much feels as if I am in the midst of a dark and painful winter. Albert Camus wrote, "It was there in the depths of winter that I discovered there was, within me, an invincible summer." I have discovered no such thing. But what better way to confront Life's challenges than by giving onself even more  challenges? It's been years since I moved to New York for the summer ...
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Hope

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I think if I still lived in South Carolina, I would be described as tender-hearted. And it would not be a compliment. It would be like when you say, "Bless her heart," while watching someone from New Hampshire try to figure out grits. Tender-hearted is too easily given to feelings. I think my feelings are bigger than the rest of me put together. If I could get rid of some of my feelings, I think the first one I would get rid of wouldn't be anger or sadness or jealousy. It would be hope. I hate hope. Hope is the thing that kills you. I know that's an expression commonly used in soccer-football but since it's the Superbowl here in America, it feels appropriate. I had a date tonight. My friend Abbie gave me this beautiful necklace a few days ago that she said helps manifest love. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt hopeful... I mean, not that I was going to fall in love on a first date, but like -- hopeful that I could even still feel positive about a ...
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īkṣaṇa - Look

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A look back at something that haunts me. I've been living in denial about my immediate future. Rather than using the summer to prep for teaching 7th grade, I've been hoping that something else will open up last minute in, say, Greece, and I will be able to leave 7th grade 4,000 miles behind me and relocate to a place that has no 7th grade. Or that at least I'd be on Corfu teaching 7th grade. The curriculum where I'm supposed to teach is...confounding. I told Stella I don't know what I'm teaching. Since she works in Clayton and is the best teacher I know, I trusted her to tell me where to start and then kick my ass into gear. Stella opened her computer, spent 7 minutes examining the curriculum published for my district, then slammed the computer shut and said, "Yeah, good luck with that; that's a mess. Sorry, T." So I refuse to look. I refuse to check my school email. I refuse to set up my classroom. I refuse to remove "high school English...
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Mud

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I used to read through my friend Stella's essays for her when she was in grad school. This was back when we were working together in Hazelwood. She already had one degree in English and had been teaching literature for at least a decade by this point but insisted she needed feedback before submitting any work. That lunatic would actually write 3 different versions of every essay and ask me to choose which one was the best. She eventually got the degree and left to go work in Clayton, where -- surprise, surprise -- that kind of insanity is rewarded. I remember she showed up on my doorstep one night months later, in tears. She didn't know if she could survive the new job -- she was getting 4 hours of sleep per night and answering 150 emails a day  from middle school students and parents. That was years ago. She's fine now, but that night always stuck with me because I thought, There is no fkking way in hell I could handle that amount of pressure. I would have a nervous breakd...
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Rowan

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I have written up Rowan a million times this year. I sent a note on his last office referral saying, "These referrals are not working. Do you want me to keep writing him up? Or should we try something else?" The grade-level principal asked if -- for his most recent display of ridiculousness -- I wanted to give him 3 days of in-school-suspension or try a restorative conversation. I voted for the latter and came to her office a few minutes before our scheduled meeting with him. "End goals," she said. "Ideally, what do you want to happen from this?" "I don't even know anymore," I said. "I just feel like I've completely failed him." "How so?" "Because he cared so much about wanting to be a good student at the beginning of the year. And now look at him! I feel like maybe I didn't encourage him enough, or... something." "Love the self-reflection, but I don't think you can take ownership of all this beh...
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