Okay. I need to rant.
Yesterday I went to one of my local Target stores. I'm one of these people (you likely are as well) who cannot walk into a Target store and only buy one thing. For me it's more like "Oh crap, I'm out of saline solution," and then $74.57 cents later, I find my way to the checkout.
One of the things I like about Local Target #1 (I'd claim at least 2) is that I know where everything is. I can go in, get what I'm looking for or the stuff on my list, and get out reasonably quickly before my weaker impulses take over and I'm noticing how much cooler that alarm clock is than the one in my bedroom, or wondering if I have enough OxyClean.
Local Target #1 is right on the edge of a school neighborhood, so I have as much chance of getting out of there without being spotted as... well, let's just leave it as a really small chance. And that's not a huge issue, but sometimes when you're just browsing your way through Target you'd rather not have to endure three impromptu parent-teacher conferences or spend even forty more seconds with that one kid who drives you up the proverbial wall. Because THAT is the only kid you ever wind up seeing. Which makes Local Target #1 so great, because if you go in there with purpose you can knock stuff off your list and get in and out in a hurry.
So I'm in there this weekend, and after I make an immediate right turn into the pharmacy section to find the aforementioned saline solution I start for the pet food and only then realize that THEY HAVE TAKEN EVERY ITEM IN THE WHOLE @#$%&*#*! STORE AND MOVED IT SOMEWHERE ELSE. Signs are posted every nine feet begging we the customers for our patience while they "remodel," and promise how the "new look" is going to make our Target experience even better than it was before, as if that were even possible. And here I am wondering which area code I have to travel to just to find the stinkin' Snausages, fer cryin' out loud. And it wasn't so much that they just switched aisles around, but they completely reorganized it all, repainted, even got rid of the old shopping baskets (which, okay, I'll concede wasn't such a bad move).
Now, this is like the third time Local Target #1 has pulled this stunt in the past five years. I would REALLY like someone to explain to me why this kind of mind game is necessary. I have half a mind to drive four miles to a different Target where I kind of know where things still are, or 5 miles in the other direction, or to one of the other 19 Target stores within 10 miles of my house. But I know I won't. I'll just wander aimlessly for a few months until I reacquire the layout, then settle back into my retail complacency.... until they do it again in nine months.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Like vs. Love vs. Pity vs. Hate
There are 15 more calendar days until the last day with my students. If you go by the school calendar, it's even less than that: 10 more days when attendance is counted, and of those ten only 5 or 6 of them could really be considered complete teaching days. I have mixed feelings about the closing of the year. I almost always do, but this year finds them more mixed than usual. There are some students I will not miss even a little once they leave my class for the final time. There are some it will be hard to let go.
Maybe not all teachers see students in the same categories / archetypes / characterizations / whatever that I see them in, but I'm betting more do than don't. The thing of it is, most of the students that come through your room during any given school year -- you like them. You enjoy spending time with them, you have fun getting to know them, you learn to appreciate the quirky bits of personality they carry with them. These kids come to school ready to learn, they're generally happy, they get along with others reasonably well and most of the time they try to do their best. You send these kids off into the summer with good feelings, happy you had the chance to work with them and get to know them.
Not all are so fortunate. Some kids you just have to pity, and mostly you feel this because of circumstances that affect their lives so much and are beyond their control. I can't even get into the laundry list of problems that would fit in this category, mostly because it would depress too many people to think that children have to live with these problems. And if you're living a life that too often feels on the verge of coming apart, how much of a priority do you think it would be to study your spelling list for the week? Even the kids who push your buttons so hard they make you want to explode? The ones that seem to add to your frustration daily, and do so with a purpose? You get angry, but you ultimately pity them because you know what they have to live through. I won't say I'm sorry to see all of these kids go, because they are the ones that bring the most stress into your life. And letting that go is never a bad thing.
You really can't hate any of them. I don't think you could do this job if you ever truly hated a student. My first and still most defining teacher told me once as I was forming what my idea of a teaching career would ultimately be that "You have to find something in each student you can love." I still believe this. Some sure make it hard to find, but you have to do it. Even if the only thing you can love about them is the occasional moments of clarity they have when you get through to them or when you see just a glimpse of the potential they would have were they not hauling a trainload of issues. Finding that one thing to love can make all the difference, and helps you remember to pity instead of hate.
And then rarely, so very very rarely, you will come across those students that you love. They are, in some way, your shining stars. You would do anything these kids, even voluntarily give them a kidney if that's what was necessary. You have a connection with them that just doesn't come around often -- every five or six years if you're lucky. They often hover around you and demand your attention, they can read your mind almost as easily as you can read theirs, and they usually reflect the qualities that you value the most. They're more mature, more intelligent, they have a sophisticated sense of humor and a heightened sense of decency. They are the ones you wish you could keep awhile longer. You want to see what happens in the coming years as they grow, and see how the story develops for them. As I wrap up my 18th year of teaching, I can count on my fingers how many students I've had that have reached me at that level.
But the year ends, and they move on, and the cycle continues. And the new batch shows up in the fall and you begin with renewed promise and possibility. But this time of year you think about the end. You see it coming more clearly. And if you have any of those special kids, you feel a little dread over the idea of the end. They make it hard to close the year.
My students this year? I have a wide collection of goofballs. And believe it or not, I mean that in the most complimentary way. Even with the frustration that I have to wade through daily, the large majority of my 80+ students this year are kids who possess a goofiness that I truly enjoy. But as soon as summer settles in and slowly rolls along, the memory and the attachment will fade. I'll confuse their names for their older brothers and sisters. I'll struggle to recall last names. And my head will start to make room for the new group waiting on the other side of the summer.
But even with the domination of the goofballs?
I know it already -- closing this year won't be easy.
Maybe not all teachers see students in the same categories / archetypes / characterizations / whatever that I see them in, but I'm betting more do than don't. The thing of it is, most of the students that come through your room during any given school year -- you like them. You enjoy spending time with them, you have fun getting to know them, you learn to appreciate the quirky bits of personality they carry with them. These kids come to school ready to learn, they're generally happy, they get along with others reasonably well and most of the time they try to do their best. You send these kids off into the summer with good feelings, happy you had the chance to work with them and get to know them.
Not all are so fortunate. Some kids you just have to pity, and mostly you feel this because of circumstances that affect their lives so much and are beyond their control. I can't even get into the laundry list of problems that would fit in this category, mostly because it would depress too many people to think that children have to live with these problems. And if you're living a life that too often feels on the verge of coming apart, how much of a priority do you think it would be to study your spelling list for the week? Even the kids who push your buttons so hard they make you want to explode? The ones that seem to add to your frustration daily, and do so with a purpose? You get angry, but you ultimately pity them because you know what they have to live through. I won't say I'm sorry to see all of these kids go, because they are the ones that bring the most stress into your life. And letting that go is never a bad thing.
You really can't hate any of them. I don't think you could do this job if you ever truly hated a student. My first and still most defining teacher told me once as I was forming what my idea of a teaching career would ultimately be that "You have to find something in each student you can love." I still believe this. Some sure make it hard to find, but you have to do it. Even if the only thing you can love about them is the occasional moments of clarity they have when you get through to them or when you see just a glimpse of the potential they would have were they not hauling a trainload of issues. Finding that one thing to love can make all the difference, and helps you remember to pity instead of hate.
And then rarely, so very very rarely, you will come across those students that you love. They are, in some way, your shining stars. You would do anything these kids, even voluntarily give them a kidney if that's what was necessary. You have a connection with them that just doesn't come around often -- every five or six years if you're lucky. They often hover around you and demand your attention, they can read your mind almost as easily as you can read theirs, and they usually reflect the qualities that you value the most. They're more mature, more intelligent, they have a sophisticated sense of humor and a heightened sense of decency. They are the ones you wish you could keep awhile longer. You want to see what happens in the coming years as they grow, and see how the story develops for them. As I wrap up my 18th year of teaching, I can count on my fingers how many students I've had that have reached me at that level.
But the year ends, and they move on, and the cycle continues. And the new batch shows up in the fall and you begin with renewed promise and possibility. But this time of year you think about the end. You see it coming more clearly. And if you have any of those special kids, you feel a little dread over the idea of the end. They make it hard to close the year.
My students this year? I have a wide collection of goofballs. And believe it or not, I mean that in the most complimentary way. Even with the frustration that I have to wade through daily, the large majority of my 80+ students this year are kids who possess a goofiness that I truly enjoy. But as soon as summer settles in and slowly rolls along, the memory and the attachment will fade. I'll confuse their names for their older brothers and sisters. I'll struggle to recall last names. And my head will start to make room for the new group waiting on the other side of the summer.
But even with the domination of the goofballs?
I know it already -- closing this year won't be easy.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
An Appropriate Way to Mark the Occasion?
First off, let's be clear - when I mention "the Occasion" in the title? NOT talking about my birthday. Seriously. For whatever reasons, this year I could not possibly care less about it than I do. It is my Platinum Birthday this year, and not everyone gets one of those so that's something, but in the big picture a pretty small something.
No. The real occasion here is that this, this right here that you are reading, is the 100th post of "What I Did on My Summer Vacation." I started this thing almost a year ago now, and here we are at 100. I even have 5 entire followers listed. Which I guess means at this rate I'll have #6 sign up at 120 posts. Time will tell.
I've actually held off on writing Post #100 for a few days now because I felt that it should some how be definitive and representative of what I've tried to do here, and I just couldn't nail down exactly what that would be. So today I figured that I should just get it done with and stop overthinking a topic. Which brought on a minor epiphany - a post of nonsensical rambling. More than a few of those on here, so why not? No "100s" theme, no year in review, nothing trying to be clever and important at the same time. Just a bunch of random stupid.
**As of tomorrow (my actual birthday, in case anyone cares more than I do) marks 13 days left of school. I'll write another post someday about the emotion and mixed feelings that accompany the end of most school years, but not today. For now I'll just comment on how I'm thirteen days away from my real summer vacation, which, if all ambitions are realized, will mean two manuscripts revised and a new one written. It has been one of my life's ambitions to get myself into a position where I would be able to teach during the school year and write books in the summer and get paid to do both. And to think that there is that tiny, tiny, tiniest fraction of a fraction of a chance that I might take the last, biggest step I can take on my own toward beginning that goal in the next few weeks is literally too much to hope for. (For anyone keeping score, my "hear back from the agent reading my manuscript" countdown is currently at 50 days to go.)
**I'm still working on playing through all of the zero-count songs in my iTunes library, as was my New Year's Resolution. I'm currently have 4,403 songs to go. I'm discovering that there are reasons why several of these songs don't get played very often anymore.
**I'm suspecting that I'm going to be surprised by something in the coming week; a something that, if I were not surprised by it, I would be both relieved and more than a little heartbroken.
**I am so. Sick. of correcting math papers. But that's okay because I'm about to get a break from all of that, and because the fruits of my labor this year have paid off tremendously. Without getting too specific, and in fact likely drifting into being frustratingly vague again, I learned in the past week that I had reached a personal goal for the school year that I had set for myself knowing full well it was nearly unattainable. And not only did I reach it, but I surpassed it. Felt a little bulletproof that day.
**I just worked my way through an e-mail discussion/debate about the 5 best albums of all time with a group of my cousins. In doing so, I discovered that out of all the people in that group, the only one who makes any real sense to me is one cousin's husband. The rest of them? Some good choices. And far too many choices that I'm convinced were included solely as pranks.
**Both Meat Loaf and Ozzy Osbourne either have or soon will release new albums. I bought Meat Loaf's, I'll probably get Ozzy's. I'll probably have to listen to each one at least ten times before I can decide which one is clinging more desperately to the illusion of relevance.
**Twitter? Yeah. I really don't get that. If that's where the cool kids are, line me up with a pocket protector and some horned-rims. I'll just stay in my box and remain happy. At least until Verizon gets its own version of the iPhone. I'm not saying it will happen this summer, but........ ooh. That would be something to get excited about.
No. The real occasion here is that this, this right here that you are reading, is the 100th post of "What I Did on My Summer Vacation." I started this thing almost a year ago now, and here we are at 100. I even have 5 entire followers listed. Which I guess means at this rate I'll have #6 sign up at 120 posts. Time will tell.
I've actually held off on writing Post #100 for a few days now because I felt that it should some how be definitive and representative of what I've tried to do here, and I just couldn't nail down exactly what that would be. So today I figured that I should just get it done with and stop overthinking a topic. Which brought on a minor epiphany - a post of nonsensical rambling. More than a few of those on here, so why not? No "100s" theme, no year in review, nothing trying to be clever and important at the same time. Just a bunch of random stupid.
**As of tomorrow (my actual birthday, in case anyone cares more than I do) marks 13 days left of school. I'll write another post someday about the emotion and mixed feelings that accompany the end of most school years, but not today. For now I'll just comment on how I'm thirteen days away from my real summer vacation, which, if all ambitions are realized, will mean two manuscripts revised and a new one written. It has been one of my life's ambitions to get myself into a position where I would be able to teach during the school year and write books in the summer and get paid to do both. And to think that there is that tiny, tiny, tiniest fraction of a fraction of a chance that I might take the last, biggest step I can take on my own toward beginning that goal in the next few weeks is literally too much to hope for. (For anyone keeping score, my "hear back from the agent reading my manuscript" countdown is currently at 50 days to go.)
**I'm still working on playing through all of the zero-count songs in my iTunes library, as was my New Year's Resolution. I'm currently have 4,403 songs to go. I'm discovering that there are reasons why several of these songs don't get played very often anymore.
**I'm suspecting that I'm going to be surprised by something in the coming week; a something that, if I were not surprised by it, I would be both relieved and more than a little heartbroken.
**I am so. Sick. of correcting math papers. But that's okay because I'm about to get a break from all of that, and because the fruits of my labor this year have paid off tremendously. Without getting too specific, and in fact likely drifting into being frustratingly vague again, I learned in the past week that I had reached a personal goal for the school year that I had set for myself knowing full well it was nearly unattainable. And not only did I reach it, but I surpassed it. Felt a little bulletproof that day.
**I just worked my way through an e-mail discussion/debate about the 5 best albums of all time with a group of my cousins. In doing so, I discovered that out of all the people in that group, the only one who makes any real sense to me is one cousin's husband. The rest of them? Some good choices. And far too many choices that I'm convinced were included solely as pranks.
**Both Meat Loaf and Ozzy Osbourne either have or soon will release new albums. I bought Meat Loaf's, I'll probably get Ozzy's. I'll probably have to listen to each one at least ten times before I can decide which one is clinging more desperately to the illusion of relevance.
**Twitter? Yeah. I really don't get that. If that's where the cool kids are, line me up with a pocket protector and some horned-rims. I'll just stay in my box and remain happy. At least until Verizon gets its own version of the iPhone. I'm not saying it will happen this summer, but........ ooh. That would be something to get excited about.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Okay, So Here's What Happened....
There's a website out there called "Guided to Literary Agents" which is associated with a publication of the same name. The editor of said publication maintains a blog online. One feature of his blog is posting New Agent Alerts, letting all of us sad aspiring writers know there is someone else out there we can send our desperate query letters to. Not so long ago there was a new agent alert. I did a little research on her, saw she'd actually been a junior agent for several months and was working for a highly recommended agency and thought, why not.
Saturday night I'm sitting here at the Mac workin' on school stuff when my e-mail submarine-chimes at me. I see it's a query reply from this new agent and thought, "Wow, that was a much faster rejection turn around than usual," and opened the message.
Thank you for querying me. I'm interested in your idea and would like to request the full manuscript. You can email it to me or mail it to me at the address below.
I skimmed the message and thought something wasn't right. It didn't sound the same as the others. I read it again and... well, I won't describe too much, but let's say it involved flashes of panic, happy dances, and some really, really loud music (Queen's song "Innuendo" was first on the playlist). To think that I had actually gotten to this level, even one time? Seriously, I'm still kind of blown away by it. I really don't think I can overstate this. I expected to be sending out at least another 40 letters and spending hundreds of hours of research before that deciding where to send my letters before this was going to happen, if ever. Yeah, I mean that. If ever. I had never believed there was a guarantee that an agent was going to ask to see it. I was hopeful, and proud of the work I had done, but I know how ugly the probability is.
There were specific submission guidelines I was asked to follow, so I needed to do some preparation and formatting to get things ready; importing the manuscript into MS Word, writing up a thin little half-page biography, proofreading the entire thing again in under 24 hours, and then opening and closing and saving and resaving the file compulsively until I reached the point I literally couldn't see straight anymore on Sunday night - or, more accurately, Monday morning. I sent it off and told myself Whatever will be will be (also from Queen's "Innuendo," and yes, I know that's not where the phrase originated).
Early Monday morning I received a confirmation from my possible future agent:
Thank you so much! I just wanted to confirm that I received FOLLOWING INFINITY and downloaded it. I'm so excited to read it!
I'm digging myself out of a deluge right now and I'm moving on the slow side so it might be up to 60 days on this. I'm sorry to make you wait, I know it's torment.
And that's where we are. A potential sixty days to wait for either moving one HUGE step closer to achieving a lifelong dream or getting kicked back to Square One. And that's not pessimism; I'm just being realistic. There are dozens of legitimate reasons she still might pass after reading it, and I know that's how it is. I'd love if it wasn't, but now it's just a matter of wait and see. And honestly, the feeling of stepping into the unknown is kind of nerve-wracking. Imagine being so much closer to achieving that lifelong dream -- stepping closer to something that has been an abstract fantasy for so long... the idea of actually reaching the goal has an element of terrifying to it.
Except Monday is almost over now. 59 more days to go.
Saturday night I'm sitting here at the Mac workin' on school stuff when my e-mail submarine-chimes at me. I see it's a query reply from this new agent and thought, "Wow, that was a much faster rejection turn around than usual," and opened the message.
Thank you for querying me. I'm interested in your idea and would like to request the full manuscript. You can email it to me or mail it to me at the address below.
I skimmed the message and thought something wasn't right. It didn't sound the same as the others. I read it again and... well, I won't describe too much, but let's say it involved flashes of panic, happy dances, and some really, really loud music (Queen's song "Innuendo" was first on the playlist). To think that I had actually gotten to this level, even one time? Seriously, I'm still kind of blown away by it. I really don't think I can overstate this. I expected to be sending out at least another 40 letters and spending hundreds of hours of research before that deciding where to send my letters before this was going to happen, if ever. Yeah, I mean that. If ever. I had never believed there was a guarantee that an agent was going to ask to see it. I was hopeful, and proud of the work I had done, but I know how ugly the probability is.
There were specific submission guidelines I was asked to follow, so I needed to do some preparation and formatting to get things ready; importing the manuscript into MS Word, writing up a thin little half-page biography, proofreading the entire thing again in under 24 hours, and then opening and closing and saving and resaving the file compulsively until I reached the point I literally couldn't see straight anymore on Sunday night - or, more accurately, Monday morning. I sent it off and told myself Whatever will be will be (also from Queen's "Innuendo," and yes, I know that's not where the phrase originated).
Early Monday morning I received a confirmation from my possible future agent:
Thank you so much! I just wanted to confirm that I received FOLLOWING INFINITY and downloaded it. I'm so excited to read it!
I'm digging myself out of a deluge right now and I'm moving on the slow side so it might be up to 60 days on this. I'm sorry to make you wait, I know it's torment.
And that's where we are. A potential sixty days to wait for either moving one HUGE step closer to achieving a lifelong dream or getting kicked back to Square One. And that's not pessimism; I'm just being realistic. There are dozens of legitimate reasons she still might pass after reading it, and I know that's how it is. I'd love if it wasn't, but now it's just a matter of wait and see. And honestly, the feeling of stepping into the unknown is kind of nerve-wracking. Imagine being so much closer to achieving that lifelong dream -- stepping closer to something that has been an abstract fantasy for so long... the idea of actually reaching the goal has an element of terrifying to it.
Except Monday is almost over now. 59 more days to go.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
10 Cool Things
When I was in college, several of my cousins and I would exchange letters, several pages long, keeping us updated on each others' lives and throwing whatever weak jokes we could think of at the wall to see what would stick. A staple of these letters was our current ten favorite songs and the reasons they made the list. Sort of following that theme, I'm going to just list 10 cool things about life these days, period. I have to think there are at least ten.
In no particular order:
(1) Positive rejection letters with personal notes. I love that I'm getting these. I'd love it more if an agent actually wanted to read the manuscript, but while I'm waiting for that to happen, these are nice little bits of encouragement. The latest:
Thank you for your submission to (agency). However, I regret to inform you that (agent) will not pursue representation. While your work certainly has merit, it simply isn't right for her list.
Please don't be discouraged. This decision does not comment on the salability of your work, but rather on her present needs and time restraints. I urge you to seek another opinion if you have not already done so. Good luck finding the right home for your work.
(2) iTunes posting new releases just after midnight on Tuesday morning. I had downloaded and listened to "Heaven is Whenever" by the Hold Steady this morning before most people were even out of bed.
(3) "Community." Far and away my favorite show on TV right now.
(4) PLCs. These are "Professional Learning Communities," which are extra teacher meetings, and usually (by definition) they suck hard. Boring, pointless, black holes of time. Perhaps I exaggerate, but seriously I'm not a fan. But I had one today that was pretty cool, because I had two of my girls present a project they had worked on to a group of colleagues, and they did a great job. I was incredibly proud of them.
(5) Vitamin Water Zero lemonade. That's what I'm talkin' about.
(6) "The Celebrity Apprentice." Last summer I wrote a posting about how much I enjoyed watching a bunch of D-list nobody's vivisect each other on television during "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!" Just as cool to watch a bunch of B- list celebrities make fools of themselves and get insulted by Donald Trump at the same time.
(7) Dug from the movie "Up." No dog ever deserved the Cone of Shame less. Other than mine.
(8) That feeling of sprint reading when you're within 50 pages of finishing a book that you've been reading for a long time.
(9) Knowing that the weight amounts I started lifting at the Y two months ago aren't getting the job done anymore, and having to increase them to get that same day-after burning soreness.
(10) Taking the dog for a walk in the evening through a quiet neighborhood and having a few minutes to just be alone with your thoughts. Even while carrying a newspaper bag with a small clod of poop in the bottom of it.
In no particular order:
(1) Positive rejection letters with personal notes. I love that I'm getting these. I'd love it more if an agent actually wanted to read the manuscript, but while I'm waiting for that to happen, these are nice little bits of encouragement. The latest:
Thank you for your submission to (agency). However, I regret to inform you that (agent) will not pursue representation. While your work certainly has merit, it simply isn't right for her list.
Please don't be discouraged. This decision does not comment on the salability of your work, but rather on her present needs and time restraints. I urge you to seek another opinion if you have not already done so. Good luck finding the right home for your work.
(2) iTunes posting new releases just after midnight on Tuesday morning. I had downloaded and listened to "Heaven is Whenever" by the Hold Steady this morning before most people were even out of bed.
(3) "Community." Far and away my favorite show on TV right now.
(4) PLCs. These are "Professional Learning Communities," which are extra teacher meetings, and usually (by definition) they suck hard. Boring, pointless, black holes of time. Perhaps I exaggerate, but seriously I'm not a fan. But I had one today that was pretty cool, because I had two of my girls present a project they had worked on to a group of colleagues, and they did a great job. I was incredibly proud of them.
(5) Vitamin Water Zero lemonade. That's what I'm talkin' about.
(6) "The Celebrity Apprentice." Last summer I wrote a posting about how much I enjoyed watching a bunch of D-list nobody's vivisect each other on television during "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!" Just as cool to watch a bunch of B- list celebrities make fools of themselves and get insulted by Donald Trump at the same time.
(7) Dug from the movie "Up." No dog ever deserved the Cone of Shame less. Other than mine.
(8) That feeling of sprint reading when you're within 50 pages of finishing a book that you've been reading for a long time.
(9) Knowing that the weight amounts I started lifting at the Y two months ago aren't getting the job done anymore, and having to increase them to get that same day-after burning soreness.
(10) Taking the dog for a walk in the evening through a quiet neighborhood and having a few minutes to just be alone with your thoughts. Even while carrying a newspaper bag with a small clod of poop in the bottom of it.
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