It's Friday Night Salon Time!

The first Dallas Institute Salon of the season is upon us, and the topics this time are extremely accessible! I am already forming my points/opinions, but I need your help, as always. Feel free to comment on any and all of the following. Remember there is not a right or a wrong, and each idea is heard, not for debate, but for active consideration in an effort to achieve a better overall understanding. Here we go! :)

Discussion topics for September 7, 2007:
1. What underlies our unease about immigration?
2. Paris, Britney, J-Lo: why are we so fascinated?
3. Is "dumbing down" inevitable in a democracy?

See the rules of salon on the website bulletin board here.

Warm Fuzzies Are Worth It

Today when my first period class was ending and it was time to put away the Oedipus Rex books, the entire class simultaneously said, "Awww no! (sigh) Already?" I know! It sounds ridiculously Stepford sappy, and because I am more cynical than I am optimistic, I'm constantly looking behind me for the spoiler. I couldn't possibly have this cool of a class.. Right? And my other classes are almost as enthusiastic. In the other classes I hear things like, "Huh? Class went by fast today, Miss!" which is the equivalent of "Hey, Mrs. Haag, I am really enjoying this class and so time flew by. I appreciate that you made the lesson interesting."

Maybe it's just that I am really working on being positive. Some of the events of last year threw me into a shit-filled rut, and honestly I wallowed in said rut for months at a time. I did my job well enough - meeting the requirements and going through the motions- but I was so concerned with the shit in the rut that even when I reached for a hand-up, it was with a limp arm.

I think sometimes I forget that I have much more control over my emotions than I realize. I mean, most of you know that I struggle with anxiety and depression. I know that those are real chemical imbalances in my brain that I can't "just get over" as some have suggested. But most of the time, I can control my reactions and recognize when what's coming through is not who I want to be and therefore is not who I am. So when things are good and I still feel worthless or like it's directly my fault that the world is far from heaven, I try to recognize what it is that is making me crazy and I can focus on making the irrational more rational by celebrating the positive, little things like a class that isn't ready to go because they're enjoying the assignment. It was one small second of positive, but that one moment filled in part of the rut.

Sometimes celebrating the little things works and sometimes it doesn't, and either way it's a tiring battle. But I think it's worth the effort to have a good day, complete with a warm fuzzy or two.

The Ginger People said! And so it goes..

It occurs to me that Fergie was somehow involved with the ad campaign for this product in that the words sound seductive but make little sense in context:

Or it could be that the advertiser previously worked in the adult film industry.

OR perhaps they were simply describing ALL Gingers.. (!)

And NO, in case you were wondering, I did NOT pose for the packaging art! After having my picture made for my work ID, however, the ID maker said, "Well. I've seen you look worse. ." Stupid pictures. And at least it says, "handy travel package" and not, "handsy travel package."

And Scene...to be continued

So Mr. A, the principal of my school (my boss), walks into my room before the students arrive on the first day of school, as he does every first day of school, to have the same exact first day back conversation that we have every year. It's a bit and it goes like this:

Mr. A: Good morning, Ms. Haag!

Me: Good morning, sir. (large sigh) - (what? I'm allowed a sigh at freaking 7:00 A.M.) (AND I'm allowed as many stage directions as I want.)

Mr A: Don't you just love the first day of school?

Me: (pause before I carefully say) Mr A, I love the second semester.

(Mr. A grins at my smartassitude (probably because it's not unlike his own personality) and walks out of the room)

And scene...usually!

This year, the scene didn't end, as it ought to have done. In fact, the scene took a drastic turn for the worse in a way that happens only when the planets are disturbingly misaligned or when the 7th dimension devours the first and second ones in a spiraling wormhole of doom, leaving putrid detritus smeared on the walls of the subconscious mind. OK. I'm being dramatic. I don't think a 7th dimension exists. But if it does and if it decides to devour the first two leaving smeared detritus on walls and stuff, it would look something like this:

(On his way out of the room, Mr. A stops and glances at my peace corner (messages of peace from Einstein and Gandhi, in poster forms, and a huge rainbow peace flag that says 'pace' which is 'peace' in Italian - you know the one that my students consistently and "rationally" interpret as a banner homage to my adoration of gay picante sauce - ??). He stops, looks at me, points to my peace corner.)

Mr. A: There will never be peace, you know.

Me: (large gasp coordinated with a truly puzzled/horrified look on my face)

(Mr. A walks out of the room.)

Me: (turning to face the audience listening at home) But that's not how it goes! And what a shitty way to start the school year! Where's my coffee? Where's Christine?

And Scene... for reals, this time.

Because I knew I had to survive the first day of school, I put the conversation out of my mind until I could skip over to Christine's room for another rendition of the very popular, highly rated, and sometimes forced (as is the case on the first day of school) comedy hour called The Ginger and Christine Show. (We usually do the 'Ta da!" pose here, but alas, I am typing now which makes spirit fingers very difficult.) So, I go to her room and we decide to make the quarter of a mile trek (not kidding) to the main office to say hello to the office staff and because Mr. A's wonderful secretary told us that she had some money for us to pick up. Off we skip. (Loads of skipping happens in my school.. get it? skipping.. in high school.. HAHAHAHA. Dude. I promise. The only questionable substance in my body right now is Folgers medium/dark roast Colombian coffee with a shot of Cinnamon Vanilla Coffeemate.)

When we get to the office, I see Mr. A for the first time since he made that turbulent comment to me that morning. I poke my head into his office and we have this conversation:

Me: Mr. A, do you really think there can never be peace?

Mr. A: Actually I've thought about it and I think there can be peace.. (long pause) but only if we annihilate all of mankind.

Me: (intake of breath to say something, I'm still not sure what)

Mr. A: No wait. We'd have to get rid of all of the animals, too, because of that whole 'dog eat dog' thing.

Me: (grinning at my own discomfort with the understanding that he's doing this on purpose)

Mr. A: AND we'd have to get rid of all plants too. You know. Venus Fly Traps and what not. (smirks)

Me: (full on smile) So, you're saying that there will only be peace if we get rid of all living things, and the world is a cold, dead rock.

Mr. A: Or if everyone were naked. If everyone were naked, no one would want to fight.

Me: Why? Because they would be too horrified? Or is it because we would all be laughing, pointing at each other, and saying things like, "That can't happen!"

All: (laughter)

So now we have a new bit. Every time I see Mr. A, even in passing, we have a conversation about peace:

"Did you figure it out, yet?"
"Nope. You?"
"Well, what if..."

And I think it's good that we're working on it, even if some of the solutions seem sarcastic or unreasonable. In fact, I love that we're working on it. If only we all were.

And what a great way to start the year!

to be continued..

The Heart

On the first day of school I asked my students to write a reflective essay on "The Heart" for homework. I told them they could make inferences, but that they should tie everything to the text of the poem. The responses were very interesting (telling?). I'll leave some of their ideas in the comments. I hope you take the time to read all of them. Sometimes they are the teachers.

The Heart

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.

I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter-- bitter," he answered;
But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."
.............................................................Stephen Crane 1895

Back to School

Every first day of school that I can remember, my mom made the Putz and I stand by the potted petunias in the front yard for a first-day-back-to-school picture. We should've been more grateful, I'm sure, since we were probably wearing new outfits that she bought for us; carrying lunches that she lovingly made, complete with the "I Love You" note on the napkin; and leaving with "You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" seared into our brains. We know now that she was trying to document each year of our lives because they do go oh so fast... yadda yadda (I'll understand someday..). And this year was no exception.

Since I never really left school, I have honestly been grateful that I haven't had to send her a school portrait every year. You know, the kind where the background is a subdued blue dappled with brown/taupe splotches that represent nostalgia or something like that. Yeah. They still take those. Anywho. I've successfully avoided having to send those to be hung on the wall-o-memory. But Mom, at the end of our last conversation and in her most pleasant, reminder tone did say, "Make sure Rich takes your first-day-back-to-school picture." I could almost see her wagging her finger as she said it. After I hung up the phone, I laughed out loud. Like Rich was going to get up at five effing thirty in the morning just to take my back to school picture. HAHAHAHAHA.

But since I LOVE my mommy, I tried to do it myself.

Mom, this one's for you:

Happy Back to School, 2007-2008, Everybody!

Graceful Saint and Merciful

Mother Teresa’s turmoil laid bare
Writings detailing her doubts about faith a revelation to many

Updated: 5:08 p.m. CT Aug 25, 2007

"Mother Teresa’s hidden faith struggle, laid bare in a new book that shows she felt alone and separated from God, is forcing a re-examination of one of the world’s best known religious figures.

"The depth of her doubts could be viewed by nonbelievers and skeptics as more evidence of the emptiness of religious belief. But Roman Catholic scholars and supporters of the woman who toiled in Calcutta’s slums and called herself “a pencil in God’s hand” argue that her struggles make her more accessible and her work all the more remarkable."

See full article here.

from the Associated Press

Are you watching?

CNN Presents: God’s Warriors

Watch the trailer here, click on [behind the scenes] and then [trailer].

A Synopsis

Protestors who kill for their religious beliefs. “Patriot Pastors” who seek to change American culture through the ballot box. Zealots who target prime ministers and presidents with assassination for “subverting God’s will.” Parents who reject science education in conflict with their religious principles. Suicide martyrs who are revered as iconic heroes. These are “God’s Warriors” of Christianity, Islam and Judaism. They see contemporary society as corrupt and view themselves as the front line of defense in a battle for cultural supremacy and political power. They are changing the world.

CNN chief international correspondent Christiane Amanpour journeyed to seven countries over seven months to report for God’s Warriors, a CNN Presents worldwide television event about the global phenomenon of religious fervor upon politics, culture and public life. During six hours broadcast over three consecutive nights, CNN will reveal how “God’s Warriors” want to bring religion back from the periphery to the center of public life – and how far they are willing to go to transform modern society.

God’s Warriors includes thought-provoking interviews with former U.S. President Jimmy Carter; the late Rev. Jerry Falwell in his last television interview; Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a Muslim women’s rights advocate; Yehuda Etzion, a founder of the Israeli settlement movement; and Israeli President Shimon Peres.

See a more in depth Press Release here.

8/22 Jewish Warriors (sorry I am posting late)

8/23 Muslim Warriors

8/24 Christian Warriors

All air at 8:00 pm central

Pit fall

I hesitate to share this since I am currently having trouble determining the purpose of my blog. It's rather personal and requires that I allow you guys to love me (once again) in my vulnerable glory, something that is sometimes difficult for me. But there is catharsis in this, so here we go.

Briefly, yesterday was our official first day back at work. The first day back is always a little bit stressful since everyone is a little anxious about the year, and there is SO much to remember to do on top of juggling the social and productive. But this year I had a little panic/anxiety attack on the way to school, complete with tears. I've gotten really good at letting go of my anxiety by recognizing that I am having an attack (and that it isn't for a significant reason, usually), and I can slow my pulse and my thoughts by concentrating on my breathing.

This one was a little more difficult to control. I finally realized that part of the problem was that there are several people who hadn't spoken to me since I lost Dot Wonderful and since I lost her at the end of the school year. I would sort of be confronting the several who avoided me last year after I lost her. And since rumor mills are particularly fast-paced in most schools, I would have to put out fires left and right and avoid the whispering clusters.

I can't decide what's worse: Having people give you "that look" or having them actually say, "How was your summer? (and upon realization) Oh probably not so good, considering.." And yes, a few folks said that exact sentence to me. Some think I ran away with all of my traveling. I guess in a way I did. But I think in a healthy way. It is hard enough without the extra stress.

I still have some really bad days about losing the baby and have to push away thoughts like, "Of course an extra life couldn't be sustained in this anxiety ridden body. The life in it now has a hard enough time managing." or worse, "Unfit mother".
And there are worse, still.

As I've said before, I get it. People speak out of concern. People avoid because they don't want to say the wrong thing. It is a lose lose battle. At the same time, it hurts me to think that they won't remember, or that I'll someday be the only person who does..

Mad Cow Night

In short, Action Cow Assembly Night* was a smashing success! All enjoyed the task, including my cool new friend, Becky, who didn't run away from the Ft. Worth crazies, screaming, hands flailing. (smile) In a way, Action Cow Assembly Night is a sure fire way to know who your real friends are. Anyone who is confidentially willing to assemble a cow using child safety scissors and a glue stick at a trendy restaurant and who later is willing to build a Tower o' Cow at a local coffee establishment can be my friend. Rich, Jamie, and Christine were game, but we knew that already. Becky played, too, so she's in. It was the waiter who was kind of shifty. Yes. He, too, received an Action Cow Assembly kit. I think he was worried for a split second that a paper cow was his tip.. (Get it? cow and tip.. cow tipping.. I know! It's udderly ridiculous! Hahahahaha. Alright. I'm done.) Anyway, see for yourselves. It was a great evening!



* Thanks Ben and Jerry's!!
p.s. For the record, you can love your newly assembled bovine friend, but you shouldn't LOVE him. Christine!