At a wedding reception last night, J was talking to a friend and said, "Maybe we should just go. We've been talking about it so much that if we don't do it, we may always wonder 'What could have been?' Let's just go to China next year. There's no better time than now!"
I was shocked to hear J's statement, since he is usually one to be meticulous and thoughtful about his decisions and words. This kind of impulse would be more likely to come out of my mouth than his. Strangely though, after I heard these statements, I was immediately excited, then saddened. The thought of actually picking up and going to the country that has captured my imagination since high school made my heart leap for a moment. Yet as I thought about the friends we have made in Boston and the lifestyle we have come to enjoy, I knew that we would be giving up many things that have come to mean so much to us.
A life overseas promises excitement and challenges. In the past, I would have thirsted for this kind of lifestyle, yet lately, I have grown too comfortable in my current state to desire such a radical change. Perhaps that is precisely why change is in order. I'm not sure what is in store, nor am I sure that this is even the path God is outlining for us. Yet I do know that if we do make a decision to go overseas, it will be entirely an act of God!
I feel like Indiana Jones who is standing at the brink of the abyss: the bridge is invisible and my fears are palpable, yet I need to take that first step and trust that the map and legends indeed show a bridge exists.
* Sucking in my breath *
Here we go!
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Mystic
This weekend, J and I took a trip to Mystic, Connecticut, to celebrate our six months anniversary. Amazingly, we are already half-way through our first year of marriage! Since both of us have been under a lot of pressure at work lately, the weekend get-away was timely, refreshing, and educational.
We visited the Pequot Museum, in which we were able to learn about the culture, life, and history of the Pequot tribe. Visiting this museum was an added bonus, since I had just been teaching my students about the Pequot war of 1636-37, yet I did not know that I would actually visit where battles took place when we decided to go to Mystic. In addition, my students had been writing argumentative essays on the issue of tribal gaming, and many of them have parents who often go to Foxwoods, a grand casino near the museum that is owned by the Pequot tribe. Learning about these connections have made history come alive for me. As I have learned more about history of various Native American tribes, I have become more saddened and angered at the mistreatment of these people. The silver lining, however, is that the Native Americans are still very much alive and active. The fact that the Pequot tribe has been able to create this remarkable museum is a testament to their resiliency.
J and I hiked a trail this morning that began at the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center. Within the woods, we noticed traces of stone walls that must have marked private homesteads at one point in time. Yet the homesteads have been long abandoned and the woods have once again reclaimed its land. As we hiked, I imagined myself to be a Pequot woman, manuevering a familiar trail that would have posed a danger for me in the 1630's. I listened to the leaves rustle and the trees sway in the wind, telling me stories that have been buried under layers of earth. A powerful gust of wind sent a flurry of fallen leaves across our path.
This image reminded me of a certain e.e. cumming's poem:
1(a
le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness
A friend from college introduced me to this poem and said, "This poem is me." I remember being sad to learn that she often felt like a single falling leaf and always in a state of loneliness. A leaf, just like a human life, must separate itself from its community and "die" alone. Yet in the image that I saw this morning, not just one leaf, but a multitude of leaves fell to their final resting place. It was as if the trees wanted to show me just how many human lives have fallen on this soil hundreds of years ago, dying all at once due to human stupidity, injustice, and greed.
I cannot help but grieve for the human condition.
Sometimes, it takes all my energy to hold onto hope, a hope in the kind of redemption that would make all wrongs right. All is not well, yet I cannot succumb to fatalism that would swallow me in anger, pity, or vengeance. Sometimes, though, I am tempted to be angry at the Creator -- why so much suffering? Why do you allow such rampant human stupidity?
We visited the Pequot Museum, in which we were able to learn about the culture, life, and history of the Pequot tribe. Visiting this museum was an added bonus, since I had just been teaching my students about the Pequot war of 1636-37, yet I did not know that I would actually visit where battles took place when we decided to go to Mystic. In addition, my students had been writing argumentative essays on the issue of tribal gaming, and many of them have parents who often go to Foxwoods, a grand casino near the museum that is owned by the Pequot tribe. Learning about these connections have made history come alive for me. As I have learned more about history of various Native American tribes, I have become more saddened and angered at the mistreatment of these people. The silver lining, however, is that the Native Americans are still very much alive and active. The fact that the Pequot tribe has been able to create this remarkable museum is a testament to their resiliency.
J and I hiked a trail this morning that began at the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center. Within the woods, we noticed traces of stone walls that must have marked private homesteads at one point in time. Yet the homesteads have been long abandoned and the woods have once again reclaimed its land. As we hiked, I imagined myself to be a Pequot woman, manuevering a familiar trail that would have posed a danger for me in the 1630's. I listened to the leaves rustle and the trees sway in the wind, telling me stories that have been buried under layers of earth. A powerful gust of wind sent a flurry of fallen leaves across our path.
This image reminded me of a certain e.e. cumming's poem:
1(a
le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness
A friend from college introduced me to this poem and said, "This poem is me." I remember being sad to learn that she often felt like a single falling leaf and always in a state of loneliness. A leaf, just like a human life, must separate itself from its community and "die" alone. Yet in the image that I saw this morning, not just one leaf, but a multitude of leaves fell to their final resting place. It was as if the trees wanted to show me just how many human lives have fallen on this soil hundreds of years ago, dying all at once due to human stupidity, injustice, and greed.
I cannot help but grieve for the human condition.
Sometimes, it takes all my energy to hold onto hope, a hope in the kind of redemption that would make all wrongs right. All is not well, yet I cannot succumb to fatalism that would swallow me in anger, pity, or vengeance. Sometimes, though, I am tempted to be angry at the Creator -- why so much suffering? Why do you allow such rampant human stupidity?
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Another day, another month. Time whizzes past me like a meteor falling from the sky.
In the midst of an extremely busy week, I am grateful for small things like:
- warm cups of water
- African violets from my husband
- marinated beef
- invitations to dinners
- journal entries
- satisfaction of having had a full day
- understanding friends who are forgiving with me falling asleep on them
- music from my guitar
- Chuck
- silence
In the midst of an extremely busy week, I am grateful for small things like:
- warm cups of water
- African violets from my husband
- marinated beef
- invitations to dinners
- journal entries
- satisfaction of having had a full day
- understanding friends who are forgiving with me falling asleep on them
- music from my guitar
- Chuck
- silence
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Lasagna, nostalgia
Last night a former student of mine called and asked, "Ms. Lu, would you like to eat lasagna for lunch tomorrow? I'm making some right now and I thought you might like it!"
How could I refuse?
So today we ate lasagna together and caught up on our summers. I was so touched by his gesture of generosity and thoughtfulness. He was one of the main organizers for the group of students who came to my wedding back in April. Fifty years from now, when I'm wizened and senile, I will probably still remember this moment, when a student initiated a gesture of kindness.
I still see my former students around the school, and while I am happy not to be teaching them anymore, I do miss their vivacious (and psychotic) presence. My ninth graders this year are much more tame, mature, and respectful of one another. I am grateful for this change, yet it will take awhile before I can reach that same level of closeness with this class!
How could I refuse?
So today we ate lasagna together and caught up on our summers. I was so touched by his gesture of generosity and thoughtfulness. He was one of the main organizers for the group of students who came to my wedding back in April. Fifty years from now, when I'm wizened and senile, I will probably still remember this moment, when a student initiated a gesture of kindness.
I still see my former students around the school, and while I am happy not to be teaching them anymore, I do miss their vivacious (and psychotic) presence. My ninth graders this year are much more tame, mature, and respectful of one another. I am grateful for this change, yet it will take awhile before I can reach that same level of closeness with this class!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
WaterFire
Primal
Instincts gather
'round the fire
to dance in its dangerous rhythm,
bask in the glow of spirits
and perchance
glide along the slope of time--
halted, fixated
upon a moment of conversation
like kindred blood.
Fire
on
water
separated
yet
united
a supple, yielding dance
Instincts gather
'round the fire
to dance in its dangerous rhythm,
bask in the glow of spirits
and perchance
glide along the slope of time--
halted, fixated
upon a moment of conversation
like kindred blood.
Fire
on
water
separated
yet
united
a supple, yielding dance
T. L. - 9/14/08
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Little things matter
I have recently decided to let go and let it be. The result has been marvelous. I am free from my own frustrations, free from imposing my standards on others, and free to simply let them be. Why hadn't I thought of this earlier?
Today a little comment really got to me. It struck at the core of who I am, a woman who desires to be special. It had been awhile since I felt the need to compare myself with others, yet lately, dissatisfaction comes more easily. Why do people seem to like her more? How come they get invited to these things that I don't get invited to? Yes, very middle school, I know.
I fumed about the comment, then later cried on J's shoulders. The release was cathartic, and after a good meal, I am back to my contented self.
I am beloved...by no other than the Majesty of Heavens, the Intimate One.
Today a little comment really got to me. It struck at the core of who I am, a woman who desires to be special. It had been awhile since I felt the need to compare myself with others, yet lately, dissatisfaction comes more easily. Why do people seem to like her more? How come they get invited to these things that I don't get invited to? Yes, very middle school, I know.
I fumed about the comment, then later cried on J's shoulders. The release was cathartic, and after a good meal, I am back to my contented self.
I am beloved...by no other than the Majesty of Heavens, the Intimate One.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Days 1 & 2
Humanities 9
Preparing to teach a new curriculum has been challenging yet enjoyable. This year, for the first time, I am collaborating with two other 9th grade Humanities teachers, which makes my work all the more interesting. I am held accountable to a greater degree, which pushes me to work out the details of my lessons ahead of time. This leads to greater professionalism and at the end of the day, better classroom experiences.
Resting over the summer has allowed me to regain perspective and confidence; that, coupled with three years of experience under my belt and a co-teaching stint with LaurieAnn during VBS, I felt a marked difference in my personal attitude and ability to garner students' attention and impart upon them the urgency of education. On my first day, I was no longer nervous and unsure of myself. Rather, I commanded their respect for me and for their own learning. It helps that I have a good group of ninth graders, with whom I can establish a new relationship.
After teaching my first 100 minute block yesterday, I was extremely pleased with the ways in which students were interacting with me, with the text, and with one another. They were eager to learn and to do well in high school, and I was ready to make sure that they have these goals in mind. We began the discussion with elements of success. Many of them listed "hard work," "never giving up," "finding support," etc. as important qualities to possess in a successful person. We looked at a story of a 400 pound man who walked across the country in order to lose weight as well as to regain his sense of self. We looked at the map of the world and made connections between ourselves and our history. We looked at the human condition -- our ability to create and to destroy, to reproduce, to tell stories.
"Conscience and Perspective" is the theme for this first term. What shapes our "inner sense of right or wrong?" What would motivate a person to act out or reject his moral conscience? How would seeing things from different perspectives alter our conscience and actions? These are difficult questions, but I'm looking forward to exploring them this year!
Preparing to teach a new curriculum has been challenging yet enjoyable. This year, for the first time, I am collaborating with two other 9th grade Humanities teachers, which makes my work all the more interesting. I am held accountable to a greater degree, which pushes me to work out the details of my lessons ahead of time. This leads to greater professionalism and at the end of the day, better classroom experiences.
Resting over the summer has allowed me to regain perspective and confidence; that, coupled with three years of experience under my belt and a co-teaching stint with LaurieAnn during VBS, I felt a marked difference in my personal attitude and ability to garner students' attention and impart upon them the urgency of education. On my first day, I was no longer nervous and unsure of myself. Rather, I commanded their respect for me and for their own learning. It helps that I have a good group of ninth graders, with whom I can establish a new relationship.
After teaching my first 100 minute block yesterday, I was extremely pleased with the ways in which students were interacting with me, with the text, and with one another. They were eager to learn and to do well in high school, and I was ready to make sure that they have these goals in mind. We began the discussion with elements of success. Many of them listed "hard work," "never giving up," "finding support," etc. as important qualities to possess in a successful person. We looked at a story of a 400 pound man who walked across the country in order to lose weight as well as to regain his sense of self. We looked at the map of the world and made connections between ourselves and our history. We looked at the human condition -- our ability to create and to destroy, to reproduce, to tell stories.
"Conscience and Perspective" is the theme for this first term. What shapes our "inner sense of right or wrong?" What would motivate a person to act out or reject his moral conscience? How would seeing things from different perspectives alter our conscience and actions? These are difficult questions, but I'm looking forward to exploring them this year!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)