Thursday, March 13, 2008

Who's my Office Character?



Which Office Character Are You?

You are Ryan. You are extremely smart and perceptive, and it irritates you to no end when inferior people try to tell you what to do. Sometimes, though, your critical eye makes you come off as aloof and bitter to others, and it may take awhile for people to get to know you.
Find Your Character @ BrainFall.com



Some people might not view this (above) as good news. But for me, it explains a lot. I have had many people tell me that they were intimidated by me until they got to know me. For the record, I am really nice, I am always willing to own up to my mistakes, and I have a fun/sophisticated/potty sense of humor. And, I've had a lot of people tell me I am smart. I'm not, really. I'm just a really good faker. So if you see me in church, and you're a little uneasy about me, well, just say hi. I'm really nice. My husband likes me, anyway.

Friday, March 07, 2008

The Hell With Love



Most of you know that I am a teacher. I have the eye-opening privilege to teach at Lehi High School. My favorite class of all time is Creative Writing. I have the opportunity to get to read poems and stories created by these teenagers, and most of these pieces are prompted by their life experiences. Recently, in honor of Valentine's Day, my students wrote break up poems. I tried to get them to write love poems, but they were very resistant. The class combined all of their poems (and in some cases, stories) and we are creating a book based on another collection with poems called The Hell With Love. What follows is the introduction I wrote to their book of poetry. I am quite proud of them, and excited to share their accomplishment:

I have heard various people assert that teenagers can’t fall in love. I proclaim right here and now that this is a falsehood. Teenagers fall in and out of love more than the women on Sex in the City. Falling in love as a teenager is just as traumatizing, if not more so, than falling in love as an adult.
Literature is full of teenagers who do drastic things because they were in love: seventeen year old Abigail in The Crucible tries to murder the wife of her former lover; fourteen and sixteen year old Juliet and Romeo commit suicide because they can’t be together, and the students fully identify with these characters. My own brother lost 20 pounds in the course of one month because he couldn’t do anything but write bad love songs on his guitar after his girlfriend broke up with him. Ten years later, I am still extremely bitter over the way a boy treated me in high school; I still cry about the hurt he caused, and I can’t think about it without wanting to mortally wound him.

That’s not all, though: throughout the course of my short career in education, I have seen teens fall in love, fall out of love, and be devastated and even traumatized by the experience. I have read hate poems, love poems, and breakup poems. I have seen massive amounts of mascara trail down a crying cheek. I have seen teenagers not graduate, drop out, become depressed, and lose massive amounts of weight. One girl brought a gun to school because her boyfriend, who got her pregnant, broke up with her. I have seen an A student not care about anything because his girlfriend broke up with him. Several students are on medication for depression brought on by a broken heart. All because of love. Because I live in Utah, many people have those fancy vinyl letters that say, “All Because Two People Fell in Love” framing families with scores of children. My students could slap those words on the wall, but instead of loving pictures of families, there would be scraps of hate poetry, pictures of dances, love sonnets, battered hearts, dried roses, prescriptions of Prozac, and heaps of tissues.

Teenagers can fall in love. And they fall out of love quite often. And because they are so young, it hurts ten times worse than anything they have ever felt before. Music, more often than not, becomes the balm to their tortured souls. They listen to black music about hate, love, and hurt. They listen to sappy ballads because it makes them cry when they really want to do nothing else. Then, they write poetry. Sonnets, ballads, free verse, and anything else they can fathom.

When I am hurting and sad, I head to Barnes and Noble. I have always felt that Barnes and Noble can solve all my problems, if not the problems of the world. On one of these fateful trips, when I was tired of crying and my heart hurt from aching, I stumbled across a collection of poems titled The Hell with Love. Because of my emotional state, I snatched the book up and bought it without looking at the contents. I got the book home, and found that the book was a collection of poems with the purpose of mending a broken heart. The book asserts that there are eight stages of nursing a broken heart: Rage, Sadness, Self-Hatred, False Hope, Resolve, Relapse, Real Hope, and Moving On. I flipped through the pages, and the first poem I ran across was called “Somewhere A Seed.” I read it and smiled. I already felt better. This book would indeed help my poor broken heart to mend:

“Somewhere A Seed”
Michael Fried

Somewhere a seed falls to the ground
That will become a tree
That will be felled
From which thin shafts will be extracted
To be made into arrows
To be fitted with warheads
One of which, some day when you least expect it,
While the winter sun is shining
On a river of ice
And you feel farthest from self-pity,
Will pierce your shit-filled heart.

This year, for Valentine’s Day, I thought it would be fun to write love poetry. I was met with intense resistance. The students only conceded the love poetry day after a promise to spend more time on hate poetry and poems to mend a broken heart. When I saw the enthusiasm for an outlet of the rage and hurt they felt, I immediately thought of my The Hell with Love book.
When I approached the subject, there was an intense discussion about broken hearts and broken dreams. The result is this book. My students each contributed two poems to our version of The Hell with Love, and after reading their pieces, I am amazed by their heartfelt expressions. I was sad when I read poems that could only come from experiences, poems of rage, of hurt, and of sadness. I laughed when I read “Medicine” by Eythan Barney, and I was proud when I read “You are Not My Sun” by Mae Goss. I wasn’t surprised when most of the class cheated and wrote a Rage poem, even if it wasn’t their assignment. I felt for Morgan when I read “Roadkill,” and saw the very vivid picture she chose. I wanted to scream, “YES!” when I read Michelle May’s first line of her poem “__________,”. Overall, I don’t think I have ever been more pleased with any group of students.

This book is a collection of condensed emotion, genuine teenage fear, pain, rage, and hope. I think it is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read.

Here are a few of the poems and pieces that I liked especially:

In A Big Cardboard Box
Jeni Allred

Junk.
The picture on my dresser.
The one with your arms around me.
You looked like you wished I was another girl in that picture.
Junk.
That stuffed animal you got me.
It feels as rough as splintering wood.
But I forced my eyes to shine when you gave me that frozen wolf.
Junk.
You rusty-held-together-with-duct-tape truck.
You saw me walking home in the cold, but you drove right by.
It’s hard to tell if you ever think of me
While you’re honking your horn and waving.
Junk.
Your sister asked me for my number so you could call me.
Why don’ t you ask me yourself because I still see you around?
Tell you what, love of mine, I’m not going to put in any effort.
Nothing but
Junk.

Fault
Jessica Scott

It’s all your fault.
You’re stupid,
Annoying,
Dumb fault.

If you weren’t so fat
He wouldn’t have left.
If you would have come last Thursday
He wouldn’t have left.

It’s your fault he’s gone
And it’s your fault
He found her
It’s your fault—
Unrealistic
Unworthy
Fault.

Sincerely,
Myself

Over You
Stephanie Schmidt

When I think about you now you’re just a memory.
Nothing more than a mistake in my life
Nothing more than a stupid boy who broke my heart.
Lesson learned.

Medicine
Eythan Barney

After months of research I’ve found the cure. The strain of heartache you infected me with was unique, resistant to generic medicines, unaffected by over-the-counter treatments. I suffered. You make me suffer. But I’ve found the cure. She’s gorgeous.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

I Like Getting Caught in the Rain, Too!

So when we were praying for moisture, maybe we should have been more specific. Not that I am not grateful for the snow, I'm just not that enthusiastic about it. No one who took four hours last night trying to get home would be enthusiastic. Yes, that's right. Four (4) hours. The first three hours I travelled a total of 3 miles. I got on the freeway at the Lehi High entrance (since I work there) around 5:00, and reached the second Lehi exit (by the brick plant) around 8:00. At that point, I should have gotten off the freeway and gone to my parents' house to spend the night, but I figured I was already in it for three hours, I might as well go the whole way. Besides, I missed my sweetheart.

The good thing about this episode is that it introduced to me to my new favorite cheesy song: "Escape (the Pina Colada Song)." It's a crack up! Before I begin explaining why this is my new favorite song, I feel I need to let everyone know how this came to be.
The other day, I was making a CD to be used during my Sophomore English class (we were talking about the different emotions that cause people to do things they do by looking at songs), and since most of the songs were on other CDs, I had to bring my carrier upstairs, and alas, I have yet to take it back down to the car.
Around Christmas, Joe gave me a CD that I have been wanting for a while: "Let Your Love Flow", a collection of exceptionally cheesy and sentimental songs compiled by Target (I think it's still there. It has great hits like "Let Your Love Flow," and "When I Need You." It's very Delilah-on-Kosy-esque). This is the CD that so happened to be in the player at that time. Since the radio was playing lots of commercials and heavy music, and my CD case was still safe and warm in my house, I listened to "Let Your Love Flow" through around three to four times.

The funny part was that Joe called me once an hour to find out where I was (to make fun of me...not to check if I was okay), and everytime he called, the Pina Colada song was on. So I would sing it to him. A couple of times, he put me on speaker phone so his boss could hear my version of Pina Coloda, which sounded something like this: "If you like pina colada, and getting caught in the rain, blah whe er lady er.....midnight....eh flres..." (I didn't know the words, but that has never stopped me before, and it never will.)

Now, I am sure most of you know what song I am talking about, but you are not aware of the lyrics. Let me tell you, this story/song is GENIUS!

"I was tired of my lady
we'd been together too long
like a worn out recording
of our favorite song
So while she lay there sleeping
I read the paper in bed
and in the personal columns,
there was this letter that said..."
Now, let's talk about this before I move on. I LOVE that the singer says, "I was tired of my lady." I think it's really hilarious for some reason. I mean who comes right out and says, "I was tired of my lady?" Who says "lady"? And who reads the paper in bed? It makes your hands black. Obviously, this singer is a man amongst men. I also like how he refers to his significant other as a "worn out recording". Such romance! I've got news to you, pal. She doesn't want you, either.
"If you like Pina Colada
and getting caught in the rain.
If you're not into yoga
If you have half a brain
if you like making love at midnight
at the dunes on the Cape
I'm the love that you'd looked for
Write to me and escape..."

So picture this: this guy, not entirely satisfied with his relationship sees this personal add while his significant other is sleeping. He reads it, and thinks, hey, this isn't weird at all! This person likes to drink, stay out late with a cape, wants someone who has only half a brain, and is willing to meet someone who would answer a personal add! There is no way this person (who just wants someone who doesn't like yoga) is not mentally competent! Great idea! (Funny side note: It was about two hours until I figured out that the lyric was "if you like making love at midnight in the dunes on the Cape." The first few times I seranaded Joe on the phone I sang, "if you like making love at midnight with the dude on the cake." Way off, Sampsonite. But, it makes sense if you think about it metaphorically). The picture in my head last night was too classic. Like this would ever be a good idea!

"I didn't think about my lady
I know that sounds kind of mean
but me and my old lady
have fallen into the same old dull routine
so I wrote to the paper
took out a personal add
and though I'm nobody's poet
I thought it wasn't half bad
Yes, I like pina coladas
and getting caught in the rain
I'm not much into health food
I am into champagne
I've got to meet you by tomoorow noon
and cut through all this red tape
at a bar called O'Mally's
where we'll plan our escape..."

Okay. First off, I think it's hilarious that he says, "though I'm nobody's poet, I thought it wasn't half bad." Yeah. He copied her! He's a regular Lord Byron. And then, what about the part in her ad that said "if you have half a brain." What is he admitting about his intelligence level by answering with his 'orginial' response? Hmmmmm.

"So I waitied with high hopes
and she walked in the place
I knew her smile in an instant
I knew the curve of her face.
It was my own lovly lady (sure, now she's lovely, not old)
And she said, 'oh, it's you..."

I don't know about you, but if I were so desperate to get away from this guy that I was willing to run away with someone with only half a brain that answered a personal, only to find that the idiot was the answer to my ad, first of all, I would be very upset that he had been reading the personals behind my back, and even answered a personal behind my back. Most of all, I would be really put out. I probably would say, "Oh. it's you," too. The funny thing is, he doesn't realize that this probably isn't the best reaction he could have had.

"Then we laughed for a moment
and I said, I never knew
That you like pina coladas
and getting caught in the rain
and feel of the ocean
and the taste of champagne
if you like making love at midnight
in the dunes on the Cape (or with the dude on the cake, whatever...)
you're the lady I've looked for
come with me and Escape..."
Hold the phone, folks! Wasn't he going to cheat on her? Wasn't she going to cheat on him? But they both like pina coladas. So the world is right, and they will for sure never fall back into being like "a worn out recroding." All because of a pina colada. Those crazy kids! So I think this song is hilarious in a really twisted sort of way. It gave me great joy last night for about four hours, anyway.

And it gave Joe joy when I sang it to him.

The first four or five times, anyway.

Not so much the last three.

He didn't really appreciate me texting him the lyrics, either.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

I'm It...Again

So, Stephanie Butterfied tagged me, and I really don't mind, since being tagged in this game doesn't have anything to do with running. I'll try to make this quick:

10 Years Ago
Ten years ago I was a sophomore at Lehi High school, in the second half of my school year. It was the first blissful months of my first heavy-duty crush (that lasted about 7 years), the crush that turned to love, and the love that left me heartbroken and insecure through most of high school. You know that song, "The Dance" by Garth Brooks? You know that part that says "and I'm glad I didn't know/ The way it all would end/ The way it all would go./ And if I ever had the chance/ I could've missed the pain/ But I'd have to miss the dance." So, it basically means that all that pain was worth it because you had that one moment? Not true--if fact, a bucket full of lies. If I had known then what I know now, I would have run screaming in the opposite direction completely, gotten out of my seminary class (where I frequently flirted with the so-said-crush), and enjoyed dating and kissing lots of different boys. I really regret the time and effort that was put into that idiot. But it's all over now, and I have eternity with a wonderful person that loves me completely and has single-handidly squashed the insecurity and the self doubt that had continually built up over the last seven years--and he did it all in the first two weeks we met.

Snacks I Enjoy
So I love snack foods. Mostly potato chips and dip, but that just isn't possible anymore--Weight Watchers would kill me. So lately I have been snacking on Mango--when they are cut into strips, they look like french fries and are sweet, so it makes me feel like I'm not missing anything (I love french fries, too). I eat A LOT of 94% fat free popcorn. I also have been getting into the 100 calorie packs, specifically the Cheeto Astroids. I also LOVE LOVE LOVE rice krispie treats--I always make room for those in a diet.

Five Things On My To Do List Today
1. Grade the "Black Cat" packets
2. Go to the gym
3. Mail Joe's love letters...
4. Pick up the house
5. Begin reading The Great Gatsby (for the 19th time) and revamping the unit

Things I Would Do If I Were Instantly Made a Billionare
1. Buy Joe's shop for him and let him run it.
2. Go to New York City and find Stacy and Clinton from "What Not to Wear" and make them go shopping with me.
3. Pay off the condo and buy another nice house (somewhere pretty--like Montana, or Washington, or Oregon) with several acres (for Joe), the Garage-mahal in the back (also for Joe), a wrap-around porch (for me), and a maid.
4. Buy Nat and Joseph a really nice house, with money for Elise's college fund
5. Pay off Yarley and Tim's house and truck. Give money for Taylor's and new baby's college fund.
6. Help Rory with college and invest in his new business.
7. Get my dad started in a post-retirement business he wants to do (like flipping houses)
8. Give money to Joe's sister for Alexias's and Hunter's college fund.
9. Pay off Joe's sister's house.
10. Buy a condo next door to Disneyland for Becky.
12. Buy a Honda Pilot (brand new!) for both Kristin and me.
13. Help fund Mitt's Romney's next run for president
14. Open a used book store
15. Buy infertility doctors to work with me only.

Three of My Bad Habits
1. Swearing--I really try to work on this. I am getting better.
2. Procrastination--I rarely do things unless I HAVE to. I work best with deadlines
3. (This is gross) clipping my toenails and letting the clippings fly.

Five Places I have Lived (plus one)
1. American Fork, Utah (I am told. I don't remember)
2. Orem, Utah (eight years)
3. Highland, Utah (two years)
4. Lehi, Utah (fifteen years)
5. Cedar City, Utah (three months)
6. Bluffdale Utah (currently, three years)

Jobs I have Had
1. Papa Murphy's Pizza Artist
2. Bread slicer at Mountain Mill Bread
3. Hostess at Thanksgiving Point
4. Checker at Kohler's Grocery Store
5. Teacher at Lehi High School (still there)
6. Helper at Awbree's flower shop (for a couple of weeks one summer)

Things People Don't Know About Me
1. I am very insecure--currently on the mend, thanks to my sweetheart
2. I don't like to meet new people. I like them to meet me.
3. I have a hard time beginning a conversation. I can do my end, but I never initiate.
4. I hate the telephone. I don't even know where my cell is right now, or if it is even charged. And I don't care.
5. I hate the summer. It's way too hot.
6. I am afraid of dogs--big dogs that bark loud, and little dogs that yap and jump on you. I don't mind medium-sized dogs as long as they are quiet and the don't jump on me.
7. I am very ticklish
8. I read the whole Twilight series, but I don't think it's the best book in the world. It's kind of ehh.
9. My favorite movies are Say Anything, Stranger than Fiction, Where the Heart Is, and His Girl Friday

I Tag
No one. I don't mind playing, but I don't like initiating.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

I'm Glad I'm Alive

So lately I have been using the blog to do a lot of complaining. Really, who wants to read that? So I thought I would write a post that talks about all the wonderful things in my life so you don't all think that I am a big cynic. And because, for some reason, I have been thinking in lists.

8) My family. I have two older sisters who have traveled a very long, very treacherous road at times, but they are here, they are alive, and they have beautiful families that they are doing their best to raise the right way. They might have fallen at times, but I wouldn't have made the good choices I did if they hadn't gone before me. Also, I have the most random younger brother. His sense of humor is truly one of a kind. Once a month, my mom and dad have a family home evening on Sunday, and it is always very loud--jokes, laughter, and little kids. The picture here was taken 2 years ago June. I am missing (I was taking the picture) as is my brother (he was on his mission--he's been home for about 9 months now) and Elise (my other niece, belonging to Nat and Joseph, was a zygote at the time). (People in the picture: Back: Joe, [of course, belonging to me]. 2nd row, left to right: Joseph the brother-in-law [belonging to Natalee], Pete the dad, Yarley the older sister. Front row, left to right: Tim the other brother-in-law [belonging to Yarley], Suzanne the mom, Taylor the niece [belonging to Yarley and Tim], and Natalee the oldest sister).

7) My job. I know I complain a lot about my job, but the reality is I really like being in front of the classroom, and I like it when students stay after to talk to me, whether it's to get advice about boys, or if it's to ask me what I'm doing this weekend.

6) My mother-in-law. Granted, we're not the best of friends, but I can never forget that she raised the man I love, and he is one of the best men I know. She had to have had a hand in that.

5) Rainy days. I know most people like the sunshine, but for some reason I love it when it rains, as long as it takes place in the spring. Rain bring so many wonderful things: puddles to splash in, cool breezes, spectacular lightning shows, nutrition to grass and flowers, and who can forget rainbows.

4) Talents. Especially the talents I don't have. When other people do things better than I do, I am so glad because if I tried it, I would be a dismal failure. For example, Joe has a talent of immediately making people feel comfortable. I, on the other hand, am followed around constantly by awkward silences. My dad is a wonderful artist, while my stick people look truly disturbing. I love it when we can help each other out.

3) Literature. Granted, I am an English teacher, but without literature, the human race would lose all its history. Think about it, there would be no literary devices like symbolism, or metaphor, or hyperbole, or poetry. Any one who does not think these things are important obviously hasn't read the scriptures, which in all actuality read like literature: Isaiah with his symbolism, Nephi with his poetry (several instances of chiasthmus--not to mention his free verse lament in 2nd Nephi--Walt Whitman can't hold a candle to him), and Christ with his metaphors (ever heard of a parable?) They teach, they inspire, and even if you can't understand what the heck any of it means (as in the case of Isaiah) it sure is pretty.

2) My health. Listen, I have had my share of medical problems, especially in the procreation department, but other than that, I have always had a clean bill of health. I don't have a serious disease, and the only time I get the flu is when I get a flu shot. I have the occasional cold, but who doesn't? I have no allergies, no asthma (the only one without these two things in my immediate family, by the way), I have never broken a bone, never had heart burn or indigestion, and if it weren't for my period, I would never have diarrhea. I can eat what I want and not get sick. Even my hickeys heal quickly! But my wonderful health has done me a disservice: I have very little patience when my husband, who has the whimpiest stomach ever, has the flu or heartburn. I say, "can't you just ignore it?" Sometimes he gets mad at me. But really, I am very healthy.

1) Joe. I know that Joe was meant to be my husband. Everything between us worked out way to perfectly to be coincidental. I sincerely believe that Heavenly Father knew that I needed someone who would tell me I was pretty all the time, and that Joe needed someone to tell him to trust himself enough to make his own decisions. So, I was prompted to move to Bluffdale and attend Riverton single's ward, and Joe's friend Bryce was prompted to invite Joe, whom he hadn't seen in 5 years, to the Riverton single's ward, where I was prompted to bear my testimony my first Sunday there, which caused Joe to think, "I have to find out who that girl is." One month after that, we were unofficially engaged. And I don't know if this is really true, but I think we are one of the happiest and most in love couples I know, and our goal is to keep it that way, clear until our Golden wedding anniversary. He is my Sweetheart, and I am his Cutie, and even though we have a lot of challenges to face, I am sure we will find a way to do it together.

So, this is ultimately the most cheesy post ever, but I really am grateful for everything I have in my life, and I feel most blessed to have the life I have, challenges and all.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Advice for the Future

It is a well known fact that I am a high school English teacher. Many teachers will tell you that they love their jobs, that they love making a difference in the lives of many students, and that ours is one of the few professions that really do make a difference in this world. And I agree with this. 89% of the time. The other 11% is filled with thoughts like, “this is ridiculous. If I wanted to be a baby sitter, I would be making a lot more money than this,” or, “these are the people that are supposed to take care of me when I get old? Please let me die young,” or, “there is no point to this. The students don’t care, the parents will blame me for a failing grade, but will congratulate their student when they pull an A, and Pres. Bush just passed another law that undermines the hours of unpaid work that teachers put in for a policy that causes schools to encourage students to drop out just so that we can receive funding. It’s not worth it. I could go get a job at a bank that has better hours, better pay, and when I go home, I can really go home—not to mention actually not feeling guilty for calling in sick.”

But it’s the profession I chose, and it’s a profession I chose with my eyes wide open. And it’s a profession that I am very, very good at. And it is a profession I love, despite its drawbacks, especially when the students pass a birthday card around the room (when it’s not anywhere near your birthday) and leave messages like, “you’re a great dancer” (check out my link “The Incredible Dancing Mrs. Bingham” to understand that one), or “You should try to be an author,” or “I loved your class. I learned so much, and now I actually know that I can write poetry to let out my feelings.” Those few moments, and they are few, are enough to sustain you through all the crap.

With that being said, I would like to give advice to all of you parents out there that will have a student in high school any time in the future. Since most of you who read my blog on a regular basis don’t have kids, or you are just starting families with your oldest not even in school yet, I suggest printing this out and putting it in an envelope and mark it with a note that says, “Read this the summer before _________________ (child’s name) enters high school,” and then put it somewhere where you will find it when that fateful day comes. What follows are twelve things you should remember as a parent of a high school student.

12) Failure is a part of life. Sometimes your kid might need to fail and deal with the consequences of failure to fully understand how to deal with it, not to mention learning a lesson about responsibility.

11) Always get both sides of a story. Your child is always going to make herself sound like the victim, and admittedly, the teacher is going to gloss of his behavior, too. Oh, and if there is a problem, DO NOT EVER go over the teacher’s head to the principal. Only go the principal when the teacher proves to be unreasonable. And, before you come swooping in to save the day, let your child try to fix it on his/her own. You should only swoop in when your kid has done all she can do.

10) Teachers are not perfect. Occasionally, a teacher will have a bad day, or have PMS, or having a personal crisis. A teacher might say something that s/he will regret and try to fix it. Sometimes, a teacher will misplace an assignment, or mis-enter a grade. This is NOT a personal attack on your child. It’s a mistake. Just like when you lose your keys.

9) Most teachers hardly ever lose an assignment. Check every locker, book bag, and binder before you accuse a teacher of losing an assignment. If you still can’t find it, chances are your kid never did it and is telling you what I call a homework fib. Now, not all students lie. But most of them do. They don’t do it because they’re bad kids; they do it because they’re teenagers and want to avoid punishment.8) Begin to understand that if the government feels that your student is responsible enough to operate a fairly large and dangerous vehicle, then a teacher feels that same student is responsible enough to do his/her homework without poking, prodding, or excessive reminding.

7) Teachers like teenagers. We do not go into the profession to ruin lives and hurt them. Most of us don’t, anyway.

6) Never, under any circumstance, lie for your child. That being said, I know each and every one of you will, heck I probably will at one point or another. Most of you are probably up in arms thinking, “I would never lie for my child.” You’d be surprised at what you would do. Don’t call the school when your student plays “hooky” to excuse them. Don’t write a note claiming that your computer broke the night before a major paper was due when in all actuality your kid didn’t start the paper until 10:00 the night before. Don’t insist that your kid did his/her homework to try to convince the teacher that she lost it when you know s/he didn’t do it in the first place. Don’t do homework for you kid. Don’t cover for him/her if s/he cheats. All any of this does is teach your teenager that it is okay to be dishonest with authority figures (which includes you, by the way), or that mommy and daddy will always bail him/her out, which is simply not true. Or it shouldn’t be true, anyway.

5) Accept the fact that not every student is an A student. And it shouldn’t be that way. If your kid is trying his very hardest, and all he can get is a C, celebrate the C. If there was a particularly difficult unit, and your student walks away with a B+ rather than the customary A, throw a party because he made a great showing. If your kid usually gets an F in English, and he comes home with a D- on his report card, tell him you’re proud of him for working hard to improve.

4) Don’t settle for less than the best. If your student comes home with a D- in math, even though she is a wiz at it, this should not be acceptable. This might sound the complete opposite from what I said above, but the principle is the same: Expect the best, and celebrate the best. Don’t settle for anything other than maximum effort, no matter what grade that is.

3) A due date is a due date and should not be negotiable, unless there has been extenuating circumstances. If you beg for extensions, you are teaching your child that there is always a way around rules, and that they can do what they want when they want and you will save them.

2) Parent Teacher Conferences should not be used as therapy sessions. Teacher do not want to hear about your divorce, your horrible schedule, your other children who are either very successful or dismal failures unless it relates directly to their class or your child’s grade.

1) Teacher do not award grades based on how they feel personally about your child. Teachers would like to, but it’s just not possible. Instead, teachers help students who are willing to help themselves more. I never grade a student differently, no matter what I think personally about that student. WARNING: Parents who badger the teacher, consistently lie for their student, blame the teacher, enable poor behavior in their student, or think their child is perfect runs the risk of hurting their student. If a student is receiving an 89%, which is a B+, I would usually bump that student to an A-. Unless their parents have been very difficult. Then I won’t help at all. Usually teachers love their students, but can’t stand their parents and, as a result, avoid the student in order to avoid the parents. This is unfair for the student, but it is the best way we know how to avoid a possible law suit.

As you might have guessed, it’s the last week of my term. It has been a week from hell. Not because of my students, but because of parents. My advice to all the parents out there: give your kid’s teachers a little credit, and encourage hard work in your students. If you do this, your child will have a very successful high school experience.

P.S. An F can NEVER be brought up to a B in two days. It’s just not mathematically possible.

Monday, December 31, 2007

Rhett Butler's People


Currently, with the help of my trusty eBook that I got for Christmas, I stumbled across a new book that caused to my heart to beat faster than when Myrtle got run over by a car in the fateful chapter 7 of The Great Gatsby, which, if you know anything about me, is saying something.

The book I stumbled across was one called Rhett Butler’s People. Now, if you have never graced the pages of the great American classic, Gone with the Wind, you can never understand why this title captured me like it did. I discovered Gone with the Wind in eighth grade when a friend of mine said she was trying to read the 1024 page-long epic, and I, not to be outdone, decided that I, too, needed to read it. I still remember the first time I tried to read that first very long chapter; I thought I was going to die of boredom, but my competitive nature kept me plodding along, slow and sluggish until Miss Scarlett O’Hara swung her hoop skirts in the towering pillars of Twelve Oaks and met caught Mr. Rhett Butler’s eye and said to herself, “God’s nightgown!...He looks as if –as if he knew what I looked like without my shimmy.”
From then on, I have been a Rhett Butler groupie.


I loved how Rhett was described as a malicious tomcat, a man too muscular to be a gentleman, and a swarthy pirate. I thrilled when Scarlett, having a temper tantrum in the library, threw a figurine across the room after the genteel Ashley Wilkes told her could not marry her, only to be surprised when Mr. Butler, a man rumored to “not be received,” popped his head up from behind the couch. It was just so cool! And then when she says, “Sir, you are no gentleman,” and Rhett replies, “An apt observation…and you, Miss, are no lady,” my heart just about dies with the agony that Scarlett O’Hara is such and idiot that she doesn’t jump him right then and there, forget the wanny-pants Ashley Wilkes.

Needless to say, when I stumbled across a newly written companion book to Gone with the Wind, I was thrilled. Especially in that Rhett Butler's People isn’t really a sequel to Gone with the Wind (the last attempt at a sequel being really, really, really bad—like Rosanne Barr trying to follow up Celine Dione in a concert), but rather, the love affair told from that swarthy pirate’s own point of view. I approached the book knowing that the author, Donald McCaig, had a really huge responsibility ahead of him, and to not expect too much. I was pleasantly surprised by the first few chapters, intrigued by the past that up till now had been very mysterious. Halfway through the eighth chapter, I decided that I needed to read these books side-by-side, in order to get the full affect of the he-said-she-said feeling that I enjoyed.

So I downloaded Gone with the Wind on the eBook, even though I have a (very battered) copy at home. I wanted to be able to switch back and forth with ease—and I began reading. Again, just like every time, I wished I were the cat-eyed belle with a 17 inch waist so I could be looked at like he knew what I looked like without my shimmy. And then I flipped to Rhett Butler’s People and began to read Rhett’s side of the account.

I have always pictured Rhett as laughing at Miss Scarlett because of her petty games and attracted to only her body. I really did think that Rhett Butler, a man of experience, knew what Scarlett looked like “without her shimmy.” So it was only natural that when I read, “Hope welled up in Butler like a healing spring…His heart slowed. He looked away, smiling at himself. It had been a long time since he’d made a fool of himself over a woman,” that I was extremely disappointed. No, no, no! Rhett is supposed to be the one person who doesn’t fall in love with Scarlett at first sight! He is supposed to regard her as a silly child to laugh at, to mock, and to lust after. He’s not supposed to fall in love with her until later when he finds that he can’t forget that silly thing without an ounce of brains.


I would have been much more satisfied if Mr. Butler, being the rascal that he is supposed to be, would have just thought Scarlett was nothing more than a nice piece of ass—that is, until she threw that stupid thing at his head in the library. Then he could have justifiably fallen in love with her, thinking, “Now that’s a woman!” In fact, the original text supports my expectations: later when he proposes to Scarlett, he says, “I always intended having you, Scarlett, since that first day I saw you at Twelve Oaks when you threw that vase and swore and proved that you weren’t a lady. I always intended on having you one way or another.” See? He doesn’t get all sentimental and sappy on the steps at Twelve Oaks. It’s later, in the library! Donald McCaig’s version took all the mystique of Rhett Butler, his charm and his swarthy pirate-ness, away from him. It made him just as bad as stupid old Charles Hamilton and that pansy Ashley Wilkes.
Although, on the other side of things, and to give McCaig a little credit, I was impressed at Mr. McCaig’s attention to detail. He did place every incident where it was supposed to be, and got most of the conversations right. And, he did give Rhett a good reason for laughing at Miss Scarlett under the Oak tree, so I wasn’t totally disappointed. But still!...

I guess the fact that the book sets Rhett’s sentimental nature in the forefront rather than his “to hell with ‘em” attitude I had always loved took the wind out of my groupie sails. It was just like finding out that Clark Gable had really bad breath, or that JFK had an affair with Marilyn Monroe, or that Carey Grant might have been gay, or that Miss Lehi was pregnant (a revelation that thoroughly caused me to lose all faith in humanity when I was in elementary school—if Miss Lehi could fall, anyone could fall). An illusion, a beautiful, wonderful illusion, had been shattered for me, has been shattered for me, and I am quite upset about it. I mean, Rhett Butler was my model in what I wanted in a man.

My first ever attempt at real annotation was in the pages where Rhett proposes after Scarlett has gotten her second husband killed. In that dashing way of his, Rhett kisses her, and after she asks him to stop because he’s "making her faint" with his fantastic moves, he proclaims, "I want to make you faint. I will make you faint. You’ve had this coming to you for years. None of the fools you’ve known have kissed you like this—have they? Your precious Charles or Frank or your stupid Ashley--…I said your stupid Ashley. Gentlemen all—what do they know about women? What did they know about you? I know you.” And then (get this) he proceeds to kiss Miss Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy most inappropriately in the parlor of Miss Pitty-Pat’s home in such a way that her knees cease to work, and she agrees to marry him.
I had underlined this scintillating passage with a red sparkly gel pen when I re-red the book my sophomore year and scrawled in the margins, “I want to be kissed like this!” Little did I know that my current crush was more of an Ashley Wilkes than a Rhett Butler. (Joe’s kissing falls in the Rhett Butler department. Hence the wedding).

I cut my literary-analysis teeth on Gone with the Wind, particularly Rhett Butler. And then I find this book, this Rhett Butler's People, and it has upset me so dramatically that I tossed and turned with the indecency of a "soft" Rhett Butler that I was compelled to write this rant at 2:23 in the morning.

But, despite my protests, I will continue reading, because even though some of the image is shattered, there is still plenty Scarlett/Rhett romance moments where Mr. McCaig can try to redeem himself. And the allure of Rhett, no matter how botched in this new version, is still too strong for me. So this is probably not the first "RhettRant" to be gracing my blog in the future. Prepare yourself.

What It's Like Grading Papers: A Play in Two Scenes

Cast:  • Person #1 • Person #2 • John Doe • Person #3 Person #1 is sitting at a desk, writing something. Person #2 Enters with a Joh...