Home Sweet Home

Well, I had a good friend here about a week ago... and he took some fun pictures with his digital camara, so I finally get to post pictures of where I live!!

This is my little living room (and my Oranges in Oil painting by Nick Stephens) The light coming in is from the French doors and not-quite-done balcony

My favorite place to read (right across from the couch)...

My cute red kitchen with the morning light streaming in...

My big red bed (and another Nick painting)

"I become a transparent eyeball..."

Horray for transcendentalism! I don't mean to make this blog a travelogue of my teaching adventures, but I just can't help it, as they seems to consume my life! This week we started the fantastic transcendentalists... Emerson, Thoreau, Fuller, Alcott. Does it get any better? I just love the nature writers; they are so inspiring! I think my students officially think I am crazy. After reading aloud Chapter 1 of Nature by Emerson, I had one student come in after school and tell me I should be a drama teacher. I guess my out-loud reading skills are just that good. They seem to be enjoying it (perhaps not as much as I do, but hey, every bit counts!). I rarely give homework, but told them their assignment this weekend is to go out into nature for at least an hour: take a pen and some paper and observe. I got a few astonished looks at that one, but not too many complaints. I am hoping for some original nature writing and transcendent experiences--Annie Dillard style. If nothing else, it gives me an excuse to take an hour or two myself and go see some of the natural wonders of southern Utah this weekend. And, it has also given me an excuse to start reading Little Women again. I tell you what, life is good!

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and to see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
--Henry David Thoreau, Walden Pond

Digestion

I have been waxing poetic of late. Here is a fun one...

I like to swallow books whole.
One gulp.
If they take too much chewing,
I spit them out until I have
Time to devour them.
Once swallowed, I let them
Rumble around a bit,
Settling and digesting and absorbing.
Then I go back.
I chew slow, deliberate mouthfuls.
The words unravel to reveal
A masterpiece,
Slowly responding to the
Humanity
In us all—the very magnificent
And mundane
That make us morals.
The words dangle, ready
To be plucked delicately and
Appreciated for the indulgences they are.

Too proud or too prejudiced? That is the question

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single [woman] in possession of a [degree], must be in want of a [husband]." --Jane Austin (arguably the greatest female author of all time)

Not only have multiple mothers and grandmothers in town offered to set me up with their young (and supposedly good looking) male relatives, today I was also given offers by some of my students to send their brothers by.

"Is 21 too young for you?" they ask.

"Why," the mother crones, "are you going home for Thanksgiving!? That is when he will be in town..."

Dang.

Ok, ok. Not that I am totally opposed to being set up. Come on, I live (by choice, remember) in a small remote town in southeastern Utah (and am very happy). There just aren't that many options. I only laugh that the old irony of Jane Austin still stands on very solid ground.

Tribute

"Freedom now appeared, to disappear no more forever. It was heard in every sound, and seen in every thing. It was ever present to torment me with a sense of my wretched condition. I saw nothing without seeing, I heard nothing without hearing it, and felt nothing without feeling it. It looked from every star, it smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and moved in every storm."
--Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave

Douglass was born a slave in Maryland circa 1818. At twelve years old he learned from his master--enraged that he should be taught--that reading would make him "unmanageable, and of no value..." Empowered by the revelation that reading was the key to freedom, Douglass proceeded to to do everything in his power to learn. He converted the homeless and hungry white children into his teachers and bribed them to give him "the bread of knowledge." The result, he laments, was just what his master had predicted. He was given "a view of [his] condition without the remedy." He suddenly saw that he was not chattel nor brute, but a thinking man.

Frederick Douglass eventually escaped to freedom in 1838 and became a powerful abolitionist orator and political activist fighting for the emancipation of slaves.

In my American Literature classes we have been reading Douglass' powerful slave narrative. Today we finally got to the chapter in which he learns--through endless determination--to read. Ironically he narrates his path to literacy with sophisticated diction and rhetorically powerful syntax so that his northern audience could not doubt and intelligence and potential of a mere slave. After reading Douglass' experience learning to read, I had my students write a brief literacy narrative--writing down their first memories with the printed word. So many of them could not remember ever not reading. Some even questioned naively if it was possible to be able to speak and not read or write, so much does reading unconsciously effect us. After writing their own memories, we continued to read as he describes the agony it caused him to learn something and feel powerless to change it. He suddenly saw his potential and capacity but did not have the agency to develop it. Freedom, as the above quote indicates, was tauntingly out of reach.

I wonder, do we see with such clarity? For Douglass, reading was the key to accessing life, liberty, and, of course, the pursuit of happiness. It was what finally gave him the courage to stand up--even as a slave--and demand less punishment, to escape, to speak and write and defend emancipation in an emotionally and politically charged "north" despite the fear of being sent back. Do we see education today as such a power? Or do we go dutifully (or, like some students, not so dutifully) to school and endure the hard chairs and endless teachers simply because it is expected? Do we go to high school or college or whatever because society dictates it... or because the thirst for learning drives us? Like Douglass, do we know that our literacy is the key to our potential? Like Douglass, do we refuse to fit a cookie-cutter mold? Like Douglass, do we persevere despite the odds and insurmountable obstacles, the personal agony of not yet seeing the ladder, the personal cost of enduring in what we know to be true? Do we not simply learn to read, but choose to read?

[deep breath!] Ok, I will descend from my soap box and apologize for the passion with which I write... it is the English teacher in me, what can I say? But, today, as we did in my classes, I would like to hold a tribute to Frederick Douglass.

Happy Halloween!

Hip Hip Horray for a holiday! Today was such a fun Halloween. I admit, I have had more exciting costumes or parties... but I don't think they could beat ghost stories all day long. I decided that I officially like celebrating holidays as a teacher and think it is a shame that more do not. I dug deep into my literary bags and books and pulled out every howling, ghoulish, horror story I could come up with. At the front of my room I made a little display of classic haunts (everything from the creepy wife upstairs in Jane Eyre and the blood-thirsty ghosts of Hamlet to R. L. Stine and the not-so-scary Twilight. We discussed a little of the history of spook and then turned off the lights to be spooked ourselves! I brought in my small desk lamp and let them all gather round (sit on the floor and pull their chairs forward). Then I read four classic campfire stories (the Hook Man, Bloody Mary, The Headless Horseman, and The Golden Arm). In every class I had kids who knew the stories, had said Bloody Mary's name in the bathroom mirror, or had a different version of the same stories to tell. I put on my best "haunted" voice and went to town! Afterward we discussed the elements of campfire stories (ridiculously stupid characters, dark and stormy nights, unusual weapons--anything from knitting needles to hooks--and suspense). Then I let them brainstorm as groups and create their own stories. They were so creative! While I do think Halloween is a holiday for little kids, you've got to admit, we all are a little intrigued by the mystery and haunt of Halloween. Next time you don't know what to do late on Halloween night, pull out your best story-telling voice and turn the lights down low...

Horray for fall!

I love the fall. The air feels cleaner--perhaps because it is colder, I'm not sure. It is as though the world is being transformed by bright hues of yellow, orange, and red. I find myself wanting to take long walks--just as night is falling--so I can breathe in all the deepness of life before winter sets in. Here in Blanding it is a sudden holiday in mid October. Fall means only one thing to true Blanding-ites: hunting. As I walk around town I smell barbecues cooking and see orange hats thrown across dashboards. Four wheelers are mud spattered and my classes are emptier. Everywhere there is the thrill of the hunt. Boys come to school dressed in camo and chatter about the buck they need to go home and gut during lunch. Kids pull jerky out of their backpacks and munch on it as class starts. Many look haggard from getting up at 4:30 a.m. multiple days in a row. And me? I am in awe. I have never experienced anything like it. Hunting season in Blanding has turned life upside down. This is it--the favored time of year. It is better than Christmas, they say. I'll let you know if they are right when I taste the jerky...

yikes!

I officially lose at updating this blog! I am sorry. AND, my digital camera is refusing to turn on... so sad to say there are no new pictures. Someday... In the meantime, life is moving right along in Blanding. The first term ends next Thurday (whew!!) and football season is about over too (whew!!). I have been keeping myself busy grading papers (and writing lesson plans) to no end. I also have recently become a binge reader. It isn't good. I have read four books in less than a week (Outlaws of Sherwood and Beauty by Robin McKinley, East by Edith Pattou, and Enders Game By Orson Scott Card). I recommend them all... I has taken all my willpower today to not checkout the next book in the Ender's Game series. My students officially think I am crazy (and they are justified!). I find I amuse them as well. They are constantly laughing at me when I least expect it. Apparently I am funny! Today I kept saying "good grief!" without thinking and they laughed every time. Does anyone else find something strange about that saying?? I also tend to dance around the room--which they also enjoy. Anyhow, such is the excitement in Blanding! I will getting out soon... and seeing some sites. Hopefully my camera works!

Wow! I can't believe it has been almost a month since I posted anything. I am alive and well in Blanding! School has started and is going full swing. I tell you what, this is the real deal. They always say that the first year is the hardest--and I sincerely hope it is true. Despite teaching being a beast of a challenge--I find, on those days when I have well thought-out lesson plans, that it is also so very fun! There are great students--with incredible potential. I feel like we are getting to a place where we are more and more comfortable with one another.

Blanding, in and of itself, is perfect. It is a charming little town in the middle of no where. The people are friendly, outgoing, and open-armed. I love the calm and quiet of it all. My little apartment couldn't be more perfect--it is small, but with new floors and carpet, and has splashes of red all over :). I find that it is a sanctuary and a blessing. (Note: this isn't a picture of my house, but one just a few minutes down the road. Isn't it beautiful?)

Well, I am not feeling overly poetic or creative tonight, so I hope you will forgive me, since I need to finish my plans for tomorrow and can't spend more time here. I promise the next blog will have pictures of my apartment! Just know that I am alive and well.

Star light, star bright

This past week has been a whirlwind of events that have led up to a life that still doesn't quite seem real. I feel like I have always lived here--and yet everything is so new. Saturday my parents and I drove down and in an amazingly short amount of time were able to unload the little Uhaul and set up house. I am living in a two bedroom apartment that is part of a four-plex. All of the units have been completely remodeled and are beautifully done. It is just the right size for me, my bookshelves, and a rocking chair (and a few other things--but those is the most important). All week I have been in the thick of getting things ready for school to start (next Thursday) and setting up life in Blanding. I have already met most of my neighbors, and after attending our ward party last night, I am making friends with all of the widows in the ward :). So far everything seems to be running smoothly, and I have been busy enough not to be too bored or terribly lonely (thank goodness for cell phones and books!). I apologize for not posting any photos, but I am still working on getting wireless internet... only occasionally am able to find something that lets me log on at all. Once I have my own internet, I will upload photos of my apartment and the town. In the meantime, here is a peek at my favorite experience so far in Blanding...
A few nights ago I rocked in my chair until the dusk took over my living room and the only light came in through the open balcony doors. Quietly, I snuck down stairs and into my car, unsure of where to go. I went down 100 E--a road that eventually becomes a dirt road and leads towards the blue mountains. As soon as the lights from town disappeared over the hill, I found a place to pull over. I got out and sat down in the dirt next to a tractor--and marveled. It was breathtaking. The stars twinkled and shimmered and sparkled. Some stood out brilliantly bright and diamond-like. In the depths of a cloudless nights sky, others hung back, quieter, farther, dimmer. But they all glistened. As I sat with my head tilted back the crickets, in one endless, breathless rhythm pulsed their music through the air and dogs barked in the distance.