Screaming on the Inside

i hate teaching. well, not really. i hate teaching at this school. well, a bit. i hate my students. well...some of them.

can one be passionate about hatred?

when a fourteen year old youth tells you that he "runs you", it seems impossible for me NOT to spit out the water held in my mouth...on him. i'm not proud of my actions, but had he been a grown man, i would have spit the water out and cussed him severely. since, i didn't have that option, the water was justified. this is simply one incident that enables me to hate my job and many of the youth i teach. oops, did i say many? I meant most.

add this to meeting with the director of human resources who informs a group of us that, due to a decrease in student enrollment, we won't have a job next year. now, i'm not lamenting not teaching here next year. i actually didn't plan on coming back. it is, however, the principle of the matter. last hired, first fired does not include the three women that were hired a year after me? obviously not.

so why the dissatisfaction with the current year? well, i'm tired of the whole kit and kaboodle. i'm tired of a fucked up administration that refuses to see the merit and worth of the teachers in the building. students who refuse to complete homework, come at least 20 minutes late to class, and fight with little compunction seemingly exhaust my weary solace.

my biggest complaint today, about this urban school wrought with urban school problems of poverty, absent social services, and disorganization, is there is gum on my ceiling. these little muthafuckers have thrown gum on my ceiling.

understand why i hate my job today?

herein lies the reasoning and rationale of those teachers who've chosen to leave the field. a lack of support, bad ass children, frustration and helplessness fuel the exponential downturn of teacher retention rates across the nation.

my passion, today, is hating all aspects and facets of my job.

Some things just bring you back...

There are some things that just bring me out of silence. The possibility of a black president? Oh, hell yeah.

I find Barack Obama a wonderful orator. His bid for the presidency admirable and, surprisingly, possible. I am most impressed with Michelle Obama. She receives my vote. The way he looks at her, I get impression that they are more than a power couple. I think Barack loves her dirty drawers. A black man that loves the hell out of a black woman? He should be awarded the presidential medal...which he can award himself come January.

I want them to flip this shit on America like the Clintons. Michelle as president is a worthy cause and mission. She gives me hope for America even if she has Condaleeza hair. Hopefully, some stylist on U Street will hook a sista's hair up. However, if Barack likes it, I love it. This couple puts Bill and Claire to shame. This is the new defintion of a black power couple. I, for one, believe in black love once again.

I look forward to November.

Farewell

I've determined that blogging is not for me. It reminds me of such a negative point in my life. Best wishes to all...

Random Thoughts

New man, already old news...Now ain't I glad?

Absolutely.

I finished reading The DaVinci code today. Well, i started and ended today. It was definitely an interesting read. Out of all of the things that I walked away with, I'm wondering why many of us call on G-d when we have sex. I had a conversation about this with a close friend of mine. Her contention was that we were conditioned to do so. In my experience, that simply is not the case. I've never seen a porn actor or actress call on The Divine. It wasn't a conversation that I have ever had with anyone as a means of a sex talk or socialization. No, "call on G-d as you near orgasm." So, I wonder why I do it. I'm not saying that saying G-d's name is proof of the Code, but it's interesting.

The old, new guy wasn't really worth my time. He wasn't my type at all. I don't date real nerds and he, my friends, was a nerd. It has nothing to do with intelligence, but he's too...dorky. He tried too hard. I cannot stand a man who isn't confident. I don't want you to ask me if you are a good kisser or if you're "pleasing." What the hell does it mean to be pleasing? So becuase I couldn't answer the question, I had to pass him up. He wasn't very tall, had major dental problems, and he had three kids with baby momma-drama. Now I have my own issues that I'm sure that some men would choose to pass up. I've just decided to pass him up. I always say it, but I think I'm through with relationships for a while. Dating and relationships are just too much of a hassle for me right now.

I need a hobby.

Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again!

I've been negligent in posting. I hesitate to say as much, but it's true. There are so many things that I have to say. That's the paradox--I have so many things to say, but very little of it gets said (or typed as the case maybe).

I've connected with a long lost friend from college. I cannot begin to describe what this relationship means to me. I called him today with a question. When I asked him if he was busy he told me yes...but the only reason he picked up was because he saw my name pop up on the caller ID. I rarely feel that honored, that special. When was the last time I explicitly or implicitly told someone,

I'm busy, but I'll make time for you?

It's been a while. Underneath all of the anguish and pain that I've endured, I've discovered that I have given up. I am not the same person that I used to be. Sure, I know very few people that resemble who they were five years ago let alone yesterday. But, I am discovering that like my outer appearance, my inner essence has changed, is changing, shifting, regenerating. Try as I might, I don't know who I am anymore.

This isn't a post about how depressed I am about the fact that I've changed and I don't recognize myself anymore. I am coming to realize that somewhere along my journey at some point, I lost track of who I was and who I am evolving into. I haven't taken the time to say to myself,

I'm busy, but I'll make time for you.

For the longest time, as turmoil dictates, I thought that being in this program was the worst thing I could have done for myself and sense of being. Today, I dont' feel that way. I think that all of this--whatever it was that it was--was a big lesson. I don't really know myself. I am unsure of what I like, what I crave, what I love. I am out of sorts with who I am. I was so busy trying to hold onto my sanity, reality, a sense of self, I forgot who the me of me was. Part and parcel of any graduate program, students are always searching for approval and acceptance. I got so caught up in that, so consumed with showing that I was worthy. I was so consumed with proving I was worthy, I forgot my own worth. That is not to say that I don't think and/or know that I am worth something. No, it's quite a bit more than that while being less daunting.

I feel like Julia Roberts in "Runaway Bride." She looks for her own worth in the worth of each man she agrees to marry only to discover that she is giving away her own worth and essence. So, she agrees to marry five men and skips out on each guy at the altar. With each man, she claims that she loves her eggs the same way he likes his. It isn't until she's challenged that she discovers that she doesn't know herself--her likes and her dislikes, her wants and desires, her own mind.

Well, that's my issue. I don't know my own mind. Amid survival, I forgot to check in with myself. Self-discovery took a back seat. Somehow, I fell out of love with myself. i became disillusioned...the person that I was trying so hard to protect, may not, in fact, be the person that I am now. I haven't let my brain catch up with my own personal development. The great part about all of this is, I can begin the journey of knowing myself all over again, today! (or tomorrow because I am hella sleepy).

So even though I'm busy, I'm making time for me.

A change is gonna come...

In 1963, the beautiful and inspired voice of Sam Cooke recorded "Change Is Gonna Come." I've included part of the lyric,

Sometimes I thought I wouldn’t last for long
But now I think I’m able to carry on
It’s been a long, long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come
Oh yes it is

This is my life now. I think that the cosmic spirits have realligned. God is pleased with my transformation and CHANGE IS OCCURING in my life. I sit in a coffee shop. I'm supposed to be reading for a paper due on Tuesday. It'll get done. I don't know how, but I just know. I guess that's the beauty of faith...

I received a call from a good friend of mine from college. He called me with a bunch of good news. Let me back up....When I was at the conference, he introduced me to a number of people who would help me with employment over the next year. I was placed in the right place at the right time. I know him because this moment was meant to happen. Anyway, we haven't hung out in a while. I saw him on Thursday and didn't get to see him again during the conference. So I called him on Saturday to remind him that we needed to hang out, I missed him, and I loved him. He called me back today. I am so excited. I wanted to take part in a program offered by the National Coalition for Community Justice of Metro. St. Louis. I was going to apply for this program before January 27, 2006 (the deadline), but I was so caught up in preparing for my second exam that I decided to just skip it. Well, my friend calls and tells me that there's an opening in the program. A woman of color was unable to take part in the program and the director (who I met through my friend) thought of me as a replacement.

I've decided to take a 10-day Vipassana Meditation course at the end of June. I've emailed my resume/vita to a couple of folks who know of employment opportunities that involve children and social justice. I sent my resume off for a teaching position in the area. I'm more than hopeful about that position. In another year, I will be someplace else enjoying my life without the same ignorance, uncaring, spite, and oppression that I have endured here. All of those things may exist where I end up, but it won't be same struggle and for that, I am most thankful.

Oh, and at the end of May, I will begin locing my hair. I might just have to post my photo on my blog. The sky has opened and it is pouring upon me in abundance. All I can do is receive it, be thankful, and pass it on.

Hey y'all..be light.

Here's a picture of the tattoo that I want on my wrist. Around the circle, I want written in some interesting script, "be the change you wish to see in the world" or "be the change..."