emily braden

Wonderpets and Exhaustion

2008-08-19T19:34:00.002-05:00

I love Wonderpets. And at the end of a school day and then motherhood, this is the only mental capacity I have.

Why can't the world be Wonderpets?

Oh Faulkner, My Faulkner

2008-08-18T22:12:00.004-05:00

Here's a secret. I don't like reading William Faulkner. I like the idea of Faulkner. I like his little postage stamp. I love Oxford. I love to lay my head on his shoulder on the square, but I do NOT like reading Faulkner.

Unless it is the 1950 Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech. And REALLY unless it's the speech to my new class of juniors (first year with juniors at this school.) I enjoyed it. They enjoyed it. Some related it to the older music artists passing on wisdom to a younger generation of artists. Well YEAH. It's about being a writer...an artist.

"I decline to accept the end of man. It is easy enough to say that man is immortal because he will endure: that when the last ding-dong of doom has clanged and faded from the last worthless rock hanging tideless in the last red and dying evening, that even then there will still be one more sound: that of his puny inexhaustible voice, still talking. I refuse to accept this. I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet's, the writer's, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail."

http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/faulkner/faulkner.html

Good day for some acceptance speech. My spirit was down a little last night, and it is a slight bit again tonight. Feeling very Mama Bear regarding my child, but declining to accept the end of man ;)

Speaking of mankind.....

I "chaperoned" a middle school dance Friday night. It was the most fun I've had on a Friday night in a long time. Yes, I know I should get a life; however, if you've never seen a bunch of sixth graders Soldier Boy in a suburban gym, you should also get out more. Who knew that my son's generation has a brand new Electric Slide? There really is not a new thing under the sun.

I Mean Really. HELL YEAH.

2008-08-14T20:34:00.002-05:00

What Teachers Make, or
Objection Overruled, or
If things don't work out, you can always go to law school

By Taylor Mali
www.taylormali.com

He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about
teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.

Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.

"I mean, you¹re a teacher, Taylor," he says.
"Be honest. What do you make?"

And I wish he hadn't done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?
Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why.

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write, write, write.
And then I make them read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely
beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either one of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I make a goddamn difference! What about you?

Hell Yeah.

2008-08-14T20:23:00.001-05:00

Monkey

2008-08-14T05:25:00.002-05:00

Can I say how proud I am of him? He has set goals for this year. He has finished half of his summer reading project already. He has been on time for everything, including waking himself up. He was asked to right "an opinion on how prejudice affects the way people treat one another." He wrote this:

"If one race is treated badly they may feel that they have to be hateful to others, and maybe even hostility! So if they are treated nicely they might be dedicated to act out and make friends in different culutres, groups and races. So far in life we have made a tremendous amount of different raced people since it was allowed. Plus people may think just because they are not popular or smart enough they can't be friends with them. I think it was cruel when women couldn't vote or run for president. Overall we have made tremendous progress!"

He absolutely needs to work on organization and clear up some ambiguity. Oh, and the grammar :P However, this kicks butt for a first year middle schooler. And remember, he had a list of vocabulary words he had to use.

My favorite is line three. I believe he meant something about progress towards diversity after the Civil Rights Movement.

Jackson Progressives First Annual Family Day in the Park-Saturday, September 27th

2008-08-03T18:57:00.001-05:00

Now if I could just find my planner.

"Jackson Progressives(a non-profit 501 c-3) is a medium serving to foster and promote young adults with both creative and professional backgrounds. It is committed to reclaiming and restoring communities and is structured to contribute to economic, social, cultural, and environmental sustainability. It seeks to be diverse along political, racial, and religious lines in order to more accurately reflect the community in which we live. It’s members are joined by a common them – a passion for the betterment of Jackson -- helping the city reach it’s full potential as the Cultural and Business Capital of Mississippi by giving voice to the future leaders of Jackson.

To that end, we wish to host our 1st Annual "Family Day in the Park" @ Smith Park ON SATURDAY, SEPT. 27TH. From 1-9pm. This event will be dedicated to promoting diversity amongst Jackson's dynamic professional community and bringing life to downtown. We will feature homegrown talents in arts, music, and business plus several interesting speakers. There will be activities geared toward all age groups and local vendors on site. The goal is to get the city of Jackson, city-wide organizations and businesses on board as partners as well as local media.

Contact: Kamikaze (Chairman) 601 317 5444 kamikaze601@hotmail.com or Matt Allen 601 291 5296"

My Moving Helpers Cancelled This Morning

2008-08-02T08:32:00.002-05:00

I need to go to my school and pick some things up and drop some things off. I need to go to a meeting. I need to unpack and write a syllabus and get ready for my classroom.

Instead, I spent the spare hour looking at Dave Matthews "flair" on Facebook.

I'm going to work now. Really. I'm giving Dave to Jesus.

This Is How We Do It

2008-08-01T21:45:00.003-05:00

First official teacher day since summer's gone. This does not include the other teacher days this summer. Like the Monday teacher day. Today was first day back in my building. The historically significant building at my historically significant school where I am so very proud to teach.

Spent the morning convocating and then team building. I lunched across the curriculum, outside my comfort zone, to make friends with other teachers. We had incredible chicken wings and even MORE incredible fries. The Eastern Indian Spanish teacher was a scream disecting the flavors involved in the BBQ suace. I thought I was the most rebellious teacher, but then I was corrected by THE most rebellious teacher.

After lunch, right when we were getting to the "WHAT YOU'LL BE TEACHING" part, I was called to "central office" to get more hours of paperwork completed. Again. But it was all good as it gave me opportunity to go to the FREE STUFF FOR TEACHER'S STORE.

Which is where we get to the title.

THIS IS HOW WE DO IT

There's a "store" at my district. Teachers can go there once per semester. Area businesses donate to this "store." We get lots of odds and ends, leftover marketing propoganda, old notebooks, out-of-date posters and you get the idea. I had an empty truck and nothing but time (well, an hour really).

I left with a backpack, a bag, notebook paper, copy paper, old computer paper (the kid with the dots on the end...what were those printers???), laminate, leftover museum of art posters, some fuzzy wall hearts, lots of hand-me-down three ring binders, some wooden blocks, some glitter, ONE dry erase marker, pencils and TENNIS BALLS. Not enough tennis balls to do my whole classroom, but enough to handle the really lopsided desks.

I got to guide those first year teachers with the following Q and A:

Q-How much of this do I need/want/make fit?
A-AS MUCH AS THEY WILL LET YOU TAKE

Q-What can I do with this?
A-LOTS OF THINGS! TAKE IT TAKE IT TAKE IT!

Q-How do I get the supplies I need?
A-BEG, BORROW, STEAL! YOU'RE THE TEACHER NOW, DAWG!

Teachers only have to learn that once. Free? For my classroom? Yes please! And can I have more?

Now for good part/bad part. Monkey and I do this everyday. Tell one good thing from your day, one bad thing from your day and one thing you did to help someone else.

Good Part-I have the journalism class! And I already have potential partners!!!!!!! And THIS TEACHER (that cute chick over on the left) KICKS BUTT at this!

Bad Part-My paperwork was not ready. But I had a contract ready! And that's another good part. OH. And my son, on his first full day all by himself, slept until four. He's lost his cell phone for the night and owes me physical labor for that. Good thing he got rested before we start moving this classroom in tomorrow!

Something I did to help someone else-Told those teachers to BEG. BORROW. STEAL. And told the new teachers how FABULOUS they will be. I'm good at supporting others. I'll count on y'all throwing that back at me when I might feel less the kick-butt teacher this year.

This is how we do it. Today was a good day. But I'm still missing my Dave Matthews Band tonight. Tomorrow night may be Dave in the backyard with blue Christmas lights night.

Dave Matthews and the Bucket List

2008-07-31T18:17:00.003-05:00

I've accepted that now is not the time for Monkey and I to see Dave Matthews together. Even if Dave is playing with Willie Nelson. Even if it's in MEMPHIS where I first saw Dave Matthews Band (back when you could get tickets and other accouterments, or cooter mints, for fifteen bucks). Even if it's DAVE MATTHEWS! Dave Matthews is in the bucket list.

Sigh. My Dave Matthews.

Other men in my bucket just because my summer's almost gone. Almost gone. Where will we be? When summer's gonnnnneeeeeeeee:

Happy Bucket.

Who Moved My Summer?

2008-07-30T19:11:00.003-05:00

I can't believe it's August.

Update on teach's schedule: I will have three preps this year; I will have journalism class(es), English III and a reading/writing class that helps the English II students. Yes. I have the journalism class(es). I'm excited. And ready to get prepared :)

Teach is still accepting donations. Especially to the donorschoose grant that is halfway funded, but will be lost of not fully funded by September. I also desperately need copy paper, dry erase markers and any of your time/materials that will get a journalism class producing news as quickly as possible. We haven't had a school "paper" in quite a while. It's time.

Deep breaths. It's August.

Monkey is HOME.

2008-07-25T10:21:00.002-05:00

My sister, brother-in-law and I crossed five or so states to bring Monkey home. For the record, Monkey does not appreciate me writing about him as he's an adolescent now and all. Just so you know.

There was lots of corn on the way. We're certain that freaky Children of the Corn guy was hiding out somewhere with his creepy, chain smoker adult voice. We did stop by the Mall of America, and I did my obligatory roller coaster ride with my son.

Now we are back to unpacking.

Jack is not liking this move so much. He keeps growling and roaring, and his breath smells really bad because he won't eat or drink. He's holed in my room until he gets more acclimated to the new "smell" which pushes him to homocidal anxiety. I wish I had cat valium.

He's this cat:

He's proof that I'm codependent.

You Should Join This

2008-07-15T15:19:00.001-05:00

View my page on LoungeList: Jackson's Local Social Network

Artistic Stability

2008-07-12T12:51:00.003-05:00

Been re-reading "Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer within" by Natalie Goldberg. The following is from the "Artistic Stability" chapter....

"I feel good because I don't care that she sees how I really am. I'm glad. I want someone to know me. We walk through so many myths of each other and ourselves; we are so thankful when someone sees us for who we are and accepts us."

(with a wink to Lori Gregory who says, "I support that." )

"We have to look at our own inertia, insecurities, self-hate, fear that, in truth, we have nothing valuable to say."

"If you are not afraid of the voices inside you, you will not fear the critics outside you. Besides, those voices are merely guardians and demons protecting the real treasure, the first thoughts of the mind."

"Yet it is good to know about our terrible selves, not laud or criticize them, just acknowledge them. Then, out of this knowledge, we are better equipped to make a choice for beauty, kind consideration, and clear truth."

So here's some acknowledgement of truth from the crap poetry/prose I wrote in 1993/1994. They are probably best read beginning with Depeche Mode through Tori Amos. And the journal smells like patchouli. Put on some Chuck Taylors if you have some lying around.

"My second grade teacher didn't think I was 'cute' or 'adorable,' but I read more books a week than the third graders."-1993

"When I saw her on Memorial Day, I remember looking at her and thinking she was looking older. And I wondered what would happen if she were gone. She died three days later, and I don't even remember the rest of that week."-Christmas 1993

"Today the teacher gave your textbook to the new kid. (He also took your seat.) I wondered who took his textbook at his old school."-Spring 1994

"Bye now. It's time for me to go. I've grown up now. Did you not know? Where have you been? It's that trance you've been in, the glass that's your friend and the one that took (you) away."-Spring 1994

"I wish I could see me the way you see me."-April 1994

"When we don't attack the moments, they will attack us."-April 1994

"Tomorrow is my last day of high school."-May 1994

"You need us to smile, and we need you to live. And we can live without smiling."-July 1994

"There are better things to do than want for your attention."-July 1994

"I hate it when I'm going somewhere, making good time, and I get caught by a train because I can never tell when one will come."-March 1995 (Pretty sure that's a Tupelo Crosstown)

There. I did it :)Too bad I don't have that copy of "Jumprope Julie" I wrote in second grade.

Preparing for the Chick Ball

2008-07-12T11:46:00.004-05:00

Working on getting my editorial in for tomorrow. I won't be at the actual event this year, since my sister and I are driving to Minnesota to get the Monkey's stuff packed up and home. I would only miss the Chick Ball for a Monkey.

In the meantime, here's the first annual Chick Ball piece. You can also click blog title to get to the JFP site.

"She is My Business"
Emily Braden
June 8, 2005

I think most of us women have had that friend at some point, and if you don’t remember that friend, then I bet you were that friend. That friend was the one girl we really, really wanted to be. She made us laugh. She retained our confidences. She was strikingly beautiful and fiercely loyal, and we envied her just a bit, but loved her even more.

"Jen" was my friend. She was the first girl I met in junior high, and I can’t think of anyone who influenced my life more than her during adolescence. I was absolutely horrible at adolescence, and she was just so damn good at it. With kitten-green eyes, perfectly flown-back ‘80s hair, her sense of style unmatched, she could charm the lunch money off any boy in our class. She was opinionated, outspoken, undaunted in her convictions. She would not allow disrespect toward her friends.

We endured all those teenage rites of passage together, and she probably knows more of my skeletons than anyone on this planet. We loved each other like sisters, and all those years we had together are very well documented in letters we passed between classes.

Somewhere through the years, we lost touch. She moved out of state; I headed off to college. She visited some, but I lost her along the way somewhere. Once during a visit, I met her new boyfriend, the one she went on to marry. I remember the night he hit her under the street lamp where she and I once traded secrets. Looking back on it today, that one moment is a secret that deserved communication. She deserved more than she was being given, both by a man who would hurt her and a friend who would ignore it.

That moment has haunted me many, many times. I like to believe that it never happened again. I like to believe that the Christmas postcard I receive of her family is exactly what the photograph wants me to believe. I see those green eyes and believe that my strong-hearted friend from so long ago would never compromise herself for anyone or anything.

But a simple Google search tells me otherwise. Results tell me that once a man hits a woman, odds are the cycle continues. I find that battered women are kept from their friends and isolated from society. Plus, I don’t own any rose-colored glasses in the abuse arena, and my gut has always told me that I should have reached out to her more.

Every 15 seconds a woman is assaulted by a boyfriend or husband. Homicide is the No. 1 killer of pregnant women, and the perpetrator is almost always the woman’s partner. One in three teenage girls are in abusive relationships. Around half of marriages at some point include violent behavior. And Mississippi is No. 1 for states where men kill women. The statistics are scary, and they are couched with mentalities blaming the victim or a simple “it’s not my business.”

But it is my business. In the waiting room of the dentist’s office the other day, a woman showed me pictures her daughter who was due in court. The pictures showed a woman with her jaw wired shut, her face so bruised I could not tell the true color of her skin and eyes that clearly relayed a woman whose spirit had literally been beaten away.

Her mother asked me: “Does this look like a misdemeanor to you? He wanted to kill her. He told her he wanted her dead. Her jaw is broken in half. This is a felony. This is attempted murder.”

So I’m wondering, did her mother know he was capable of attempted murder? Or had she seen the signs, and blown them off as “none of my business”? Had the daughter wanted to get away but couldn’t? Did she wonder how she would support herself? Or did she try to get away, and in the process get her jaw wired shut?

Did the violence escalate from one slap to a broken jaw so gradually that a broken spirit did not really notice the change?

This is our business. It’s half of our marriages at some point. One quarter of us are living a daily cycle of violence. Open your eyes to those numbers in the grocery store, and make sure you notice the children, too. Spousal abuse increases child abuse by a whopping 1,500 percent. And more times than we really notice, the end result is homicide.

The abuse crosses all social, race and economic lines. For each woman, there is a unique story of why she stays or what finally broke the spell for her to leave. Women stay for the children. They stay because they’re afraid to leave. They stay for reasons too numerous for one column, but it’s time we stop blaming and start empowering.

We all deserve safety and dignity. No more excuses. We owe our girlfriends more than we’ve given them.

The Things We Think and Do Not Say-Some Dudes May Have the Coin, but They'll Never Have the Kwan

2008-07-11T17:24:00.003-05:00

I wish I had time to watch Jerry tonight and smile and cry. Only Tom Cruise movie I can swallow. Only Springsteen song that I enjoy hearing. It's all because of Cuba and Crowe.

From Crackle: Jerry Maguire: Shoplift The Pooty

"She'll let you in her house
If you come knockin' late at night
She'll let you in her mouth
If the words you say are right
If you pay the price
She'll let you deep inside
There's a secret garden she hides

She'll let you in her car
To go drivin' 'round
She'll let you into the parts of herself
That'll bring you down
She'll let you in her heart
If you got a hammer and a vise
But into her secret garden,
don't think twice

You've gone a million miles
How far'd you get
To that place where you can't remember
And you can't forget"

http://www.springsteenlyrics.com/lyrics/s/secretgarden.php

Now let's go listen to Cash's version of "One" again, watch "Almost Famous" and get back to work :)

When I'm Reminded of Something

2008-07-11T16:41:00.005-05:00

Yes, RSS people, or whatever, I know I should really mean "publish" before I hit "publish"!

I'm spending my last few nights in Fondren, and I'm realizing what I'll miss the most. Last night I had the luxury of conversation with Cowboy. I say luxury because I'm the one who has taken the conversations for granted by living my life in a world that did not include my people. Word of advice...don't do that. Time with your people is as valuable, if not more, than cash.

In just a few months, his conversations have reminded me that we are all imperfect. We are all flawed. Or, in his words, "People suck." He's reminded me that naps are good. Oh, and I'm a slob :P

He reminded me last night that the why and how of our life's journey is not meant for us to see in this lifetime, especially regarding loss. Why was this person so special? Why was this special person taken from me? Did the love and prayer I put into this person make a difference? Maybe the influence any of us have on impressionable minds won't be accessed until the person is 30'ish, such as my grandmother's influence that I've used as a teacher. When she died did she know how much she had given me?

You can't have the heart of a teacher and expect that you won't experience loss. You can't invest yourself in the only way that will truly reach a young person, or any person, without understanding that your influence does not just disappear because they are removed from your daily life. They are smart little creatures who just know your heart. Sometimes you just become a funny story they tell in college. Sometimes you become the person who inspires them to dream big. Sometimes you become the person who gives them strength to overcome and keep on in a home without peace or a world without role models. However, those with a teacher's heart, for the most part, remain a part of their journey.

Of course, I'm speaking as a teacher. Moreso, I'm speaking as a person. Butterfly effect I'm sure.

And today's moment of Jesus and music:

"I yearn for peace and rest
I don't want to end up where you found me
And it echoes in my mind
Keeps me awake tonight

...

I know you've cast my sins as far
As the East is from the West
And I stand before you now
As though I've never sinned but today
I feel like I'm just one mistake away
From you leaving me this way

Jesus can you show me
Just how far the East is from the West
Cause I can't bear to see the man I've been
Come rising up in me again
In the arms of your mercy I find rest
Cause you know just how far the East is from the West
From one scar[r]ed hand to the other"

http://artists.letssingit.com/casting-crowns-lyrics-east-to-west-xngr6x5

And:

"Do not fear, for I am with you,
do not be afraid, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you,
I will help you,
I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.
Yes, all who are incensed against yous
hall be ashamed and disgraced;
those who strive against you
shall be as nothing and shall perish."

Isaiah 41:10-11

Know I'm posting the New International Version which is my preference. However, I do love this God's Word version of 41:11

"Everyone who is angry with you will be ashamed and disgraced. Those who oppose you will be reduced to nothing and disappear."

That's some Samuel Jackson "Pulp Fiction" Bible there.

Don't forget who you are, and surround yourself with people who won't let you forget either. There's a cliche' about that one I can't recall right now. And what others have created to hurt us, our God will make for good.

Moving Day Part I (Probably an Eleventy Billion Part Series)

2008-07-04T02:44:00.004-05:00

Today I got all my stuff from a storage building to new home. I drove a moving truck. Two students helped me. It was a tiring, but beautiful day. I enjoy spending time with students outside of the classroom.

I also, finally, put in that CD that another one of my students made as part of a poetry project. I wish I'd slowed down and listened to it in October, when he submitted the project.

The CD had two songs (all songs were great) that describe my place right now.

1. Akon-"Ghetto"-http://www.elyrics.net/read/a/akon-lyrics/ghetto-lyrics.html

"These streets remind me of quicksand (quicksand)
When your on it you'll keep goin down (goin down)
And there's noone to hold on too
And there's noone to pull you out
You keep on fallin (falling)
And noone can here you callin
So you end up self destructing"

"No need to cherish luxuries (cause everythin' come and go)
Even the life that you have is borrowed(Cause your not promised tomorrow)
So live your life as if everydays' gon be your last
Once you move forward can't go back
Best prepare to remove your past
Cause ya gotta be willin to pray
Yea
There gotta be (there gotta be) a better way oh
Yea ya gotta be willing to pray
Cause there gotta be (there gotta be) a better day"

2. Tupac-"Dear Mama"-http://www.lyricsandsongs.com/song/16341.html

"When things went wrong
we'd blame mama
I reminice on the stress I caused,
it was hell
Huggin on my mama from a jail cell
And who'd think in elementary?
Heeey! I see the penitentiary, one day"

"I finally understand for a woman
it ain't easy tryin to raise a man
You always was committed
A poor single mother on welfare,
tell me how ya did it
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated"

"And never left me alone because you cared for me
And I could see you comin home after work late
You're in the kitchen tryin to fix us a hot plate
Ya just workin with the scraps you was given
And mama made miracles every Thanksgivin
But now the road got rough, you're alone
You're tryin to raise two bad kids on your own
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated"

"I can always depend on my mama
And when it seems that I'm hopeless
You say the words that can get me back in focus
When I was sick as a little kid
To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did
And all my childhood memories
Are full of all the sweet things you did for me
And even though I act craaazy
I gotta thank the Lord that you made me
There are no words that can express how I feel
You never kept a secret, always stayed real
And I appreciate, how you raised me
And all the extra love that you gave me
I wish I could take the pain away
If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day
Everything will be alright if ya hold on
It's a struggle everyday, gotta roll on
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated"

Little known fact about being a teacher: they teach us as much as we teach them. Students, who have endured more pain and family problems and health problems and so much more than we will ever truly know, will spend a summer day to help their teacher move. Students will write essays and stories that expand my understanding of a world beyond my own. Students will give me music that makes me think. Students will "big brother" my son at club meetings, and they will include him, in fact encourage him, to join a media literacy project or step dance.

"Today was a good day."

Sense of Place and How I Must Leave Fondren

2008-07-02T23:08:00.003-05:00

Fondren is my people. Sitting on the porch reading Myrlie Ever's "For Us, the Living." (fyi...she wrote at the age of 34. 4 years after her husband's death; he died when she was 30. Grateful for the strength, truth and hope right now.) People are walking dogs, and they smile and wave. A truck drives by playing "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover."

But now I'm moving again, and checking yet another one of those huge life stress box items therapists and such have you identify on intake forms.

Found this looking for some freelance writing opportunities this week:

http://www.commonties.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/flashback.jpg

From this website (postsecret style):

http://www.commonties.com/

Answer the "20 Questions" and you could get some cash if chosen. I won't tell you if and when I am :)

Monkey is Da Truth

2008-06-21T15:52:00.003-05:00

I may have spelled that wrong.

We've camped where we had countless moments that will be in the book. One example: we fished together off the pier with one pole and a cricket. We caught a fish.

As an aside, I've been really employing what I remember of my grandmother these last few weeks. It's been great having my son around when I'm in "teacher" mode. It's been great for him too.

We've worked and taken care of business, much like I am usually doing every day. Summer break for teachers? HA.

We've worked with young folks and a summer project. He said he could do this "work" all day (as he was totally sitting next to the Princeton student), and Monkey is, as always, brilliant. He learned research skills and had lots of laughs.

Tonight we are going to see these guys (hope these specific guys are there):

Who are with Step Afrika , the first professional company dedicated to stepping with spoken word:

And can be found at this website:

http://www.stepafrika.org/021808/home.htm

Jackson State Rose E. McCoy Theatre tonight at 7pm. You can get tickets at the door.

First ever Jackson, MS performance. Presented by SRBWI'S Unita Blackwell Young Women's Leadership Institute which you can read about here:

http://www.srbwi.org/programs_unita_blackwell.html

And this is Unita Blackwell:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unita_Blackwell_Wright

I am so glad he is here, and I'm so glad he's enjoying it. I swear, I thought I was going to have to drag him from the library today. We can't wait to research some more.

The One Where I Update the Only Way I Can :)

2008-06-12T14:06:00.007-05:00

Only to refer you to this description of where I've "been" this year, even though I'm not "first year." (but I think after ten years, it does count as first year....)

Over the year, I've discovered the blogs of Mississippi Teacher Corps teachers. MTC is a two-year program, and one of only three alternate route programs in Mississippi, that is a lot like "Teach for America," but also very focused on Mississippi.

These are two quotes, from two random mtc'ers, that in no way, shape or form can convey to you, or anyone, the reality of teaching and teacher burn out where I am personally and where our "education system" is in reality of the "teacher shortage".

Both of these come from the advice to the students coming into the program and/or teaching profession and how to "prepare."

Author names, locations, etc. not included, but both attributed to MTC and/or the "teacher crazy." A special wink to anyone I know in any way related to my school, people I've met this year and people I'll see in August.

"First and foremost, you are crazy. Not few eggs short of an omelette crazy. We're talking about Hunter S. Thompson tripping on LSD in the Arizona desert crazy. Hillary Clinton remaining in the Democratic primary, despite not having a snowball's chance in the 5th circle of hell according the delegate count crazy. Starting a petition to get Carmichael's birthday made a national holiday in Neshoba County crazy. Mike Tyson crazy."

"To say that it has been "the hardest experience of my life" does not convey the magnitude of something more emotionally challenging than losing my mother, more physically challenging than a summer of full-time ice hockey camps, more socially challenging than middle school, and more mentally challenging than 40 back-to-back weeks of college finals."

This blog has been neglected. It may or may not be for a long time as I have been, and still am, going a different direction both professionally and personally.

Where I am as a professional and a person when I began this blog is so far away and different from where I started. The core audience is still a little bit there, and there may (or may not) be potential for a different audience.

I've considered splitting the "teacher" Emily and the "writer" Emily, but that decision is not a priority on my list. So for the moment, however I am able to define moment at this point, this blog is what it is, as much as I hate that cliche'.

All that to say.....

1. If you are new here, welcome :) I hardly update, so you'll want to subscribe.

2. To my "regulars" or "fans" (as Casey Parks put back in the day....way back in the day....in a way that makes me feel old and a little nostalgic...), thank you for sticking it out and I'm still very much a "writer." Thanks for dropping by even as the "writer" has evolved from the Chick columnist to the Braden columnist to the fun feature stories and all the other places both high, middle, low and indescribable :) I've appreciated the commitment! Being a "writer" is still my fulfilled childhood dream, and I appreciate the experience, meeting people and all the things that it's involved.

And for old time's sake and for me personally to not forget where I came from...the very first "publish."

http://www.jacksonfreepress.com/more.php?id=A4061_0_7_0_M

That spirit is still there no matter how much life has changed :)

A Full Page of Things to Do....

2008-05-11T19:08:00.004-05:00

And one is to update my blog. So here :)

Courtesy of Teach for America

"You sent me a post card
From your European vacation
That you got for graduation
When you arrived in Portugal.

I get it in my mailbox
At 6:50 to a school bus
Lugging a thousand pounds
Of books and hopes
Of Do Now dreams
Of future things
That I now fight for my students to own.
In my bag
Lugging now with me
A thousand pounds of fears and worries
Of urgency and a step that’s hurried
Because time is now more precious kept
Than it has ever been.

“I
Wish
You
Were
Here.”

I gaze off into sandy beaches
Of the world’s farther reaches
Wondering what that life teaches
And thinking to myself-
No.
No.
I wish you were here.
I wish you were here
So you could see
Around the closed doors
And closed eyes
That make my students compromise
Dreams that many of usTook for granted
Dreams that many of us were handed
Gift wrapped
Poverty slapped
Lacking for books,
Not for brains
Worn seams and stains
Walking home alone in the rain
Every single day.

I wish you were here
So you could see
The birth
the worth
the risk to dream
gleam
in the dark
spark
from “I’m stupid”
to
I’m not only smart
but I am ready
to start
I am ready
to start working,
because I’ve got a plan.

That sheepish smile
that says “I get it”
that makes your insides feel
like if you let it
they might just light on fire
with pride
they might just ignite
and you’d glow from the inside out.
oh how
I
wish
you
were
here.

…and I might have been envious
Of your endless summer
But at 5:45
I cannot stop and wonder
What city you are in
Or what things you’ve photographed,
when we see our students map futures
Instead of following maps.
I will no longer wonder
If you are sleeping in
Because the time is now my friends
to begin.

So when people ask us,
What we are doing with our summer
Who we are going to be
What we are going to make
You tell them
With pride my friends
At any dinner party
At any double date
We makeEyes wide
With futures now newly considered
We make minds wide
With potential dreams that defy fate
We make mind’s eyes perceive
Future schemes
That even the grandest of challenges
can no longer negate.
Plans.
Saying always now, “I Can”
Doctors, lawyers, vets, architects-
Together we make
Hope appear.
Oh,
How I wish
You had been here.”

-Jaclyn Suffel
TFA Houston Institute ‘07
Jackson Middle School
Memphis Corps ‘07

I Love This Story

2008-05-04T18:38:00.001-05:00

"There once was a young man named Nasreddin who planted a flower garden. But when the flowers came up so did a great crop of dandelions amongthem. Wishing to eliminate the unwanted guests, Nasreddin consulted with gardeners near and far, but none of their solutions worked.

Finally, the young man traveled to the palace of the sheik to seek the wisdom of the royal gardener himself. But unfortunately, he had alreadytried all the methods the royal gardener recommended to him.

Silently they sat together for a good long time. At last, the royal gardener looked at Nasreddin and said: "Well, then, the only thing I cansuggest is that you learn to love them."

Traditional Sufi Story

Why I Work So Much

2008-04-27T17:34:00.004-05:00

Well, beyond the obvious...teaching is hard and lots of work.

However, one day this week, and I think it was Thursday, I was so exhausted I could hardly function. Physically, emotionally, mentally and any other -ly exhausted. I did the only thing I could do to survive, and that was decide that we would just read and write for a day. It was a nice day on Mango Street.

Then one student turned his project in early, and he had dedicated it to me. And it is a good project. It fits the vignette style of Mango Street, it revealed great themes in just a few lines and it made me happy.

After that, I left all my work at work and walked out the door. Monkey was here Friday night, and we went to a quiz bowl type thing Saturday morning. He enjoyed clearing the buzzer, and he commented on the element of chaos involved with so many confused people. As usual, the school event started late, and it had me about 45 minutes late dropping Monkey off for his next visitation. I almost drowned in guilt over that one mistake, but then decided not to. Stuff happens. We're all human, and no one can control every moment of his time or our time.

I came home, and I watched movies I'd fallen behind on. I watched Walk the Line again because FX keeps playing it. I read a book. I played with my cat. I called my mom.

I caught up on The Office.

I spent a healthy amount of time lusting after Jim Halpert (I totally cried when he showed the engagement ring he'd gotten Pam one week after dating), a healthy amount of time letting go of some emotion and a healthy amount of time eating. I have not been eating like I should lately. Someone please alert my ass though, since it still looks like I'm an emotional eater :P

I went to sleep very, very early.

Today I did laundry, some dishes and watched Thank You for Smoking again. I tried to watch Lars and the Real Girl, but it put me to sleep. It's going back to Netflix.

I updated my blog. See?

I listened to my iPod for the first time since fall. Here's a sampling:

*In Your Eyes-Peter Gabriel
*The Space Between-Dave Matthews Band
*If I Ever Lose My Faith in You-Sting
*He Thinks He'll Keep Her-Mary Chapin Carpenter
*One-I, of course, prefer the Johnny Cash version. (http://www.lyricsfreak.com/u/u2/one_20141388.html)
*Kid Fears-Indigo Girls
*lots of Juno songs

My stagnant playlist is unacceptable. This weekend reminded me of a weekend two falls ago with rain, a bucket hat and Thacker Mountain Radio. It made me a little sad, and it made me want that one day back.

Monkey-Don't Call Him a Hippie

2008-04-27T14:10:00.003-05:00

He just looks like one, or that's what he says:

When I Am Healed

2008-04-21T18:00:00.005-05:00

I will be able to watch Walk the Line without going into the heaving tears of emotional trauma. :P

I can watch THIS and not cry though, because they've been talking about Jackson ever since the fire went out.

Favorite lines:

"Where's my friend John?"
"I don't know. Why don't you ask your big, fat shadow?"
"You already are down there honey."
"I'm sorry I let you down, m'am."

And, since I'm still young and 29, I do like the Phoenix Johnny Cash:

Well, I like the Phoenix anything. He's my helicopter this week. :)