I've thought twice, three times, even four times about posting this--or even saying it aloud--for fear of jinxing it, but it's been about a week, and I think I'm safe.
For the past few months (like seven), as I'm sure you guys could probably gather from the nature of a huge chunk of my posts...I haven't been well. I've been very, very sick, physically and mentally.
I started about mid-January-ish when I started to get really depressed. Hopeless. Like there wasn't going to be anything good that came out of me or the world, so I just let it beat me down. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep very well. And then about February I started to feel really sick. There were a few days when I had moments I thought I was going to pass out or succumb to convulsions like I was having a seizure or start speaking incoherently. And the dizziness.
Oh, the dizziness.
That's what plagued me for the longest time. When I walked, stood still, or even sat down, I had the constant feeling that I was on a boat. Constantly rocking. Playing with my vision. It was extremely hard to walk because the ground always felt like it was moving. It was rather unpleasant and I pretty much wanted to avoid it at all costs. In the middle of this, I thought it was because I needed glasses that I was seeing things. Looking back, this didn't solve the problem. (Although, I honestly did need the glasses...things in the distance were starting to get a little fuzzy anyway...) And so it continued, well until the end of the school year and into the summer.
All the while, the constant worrying about what the hell me body was doing in addition to that bout of depression all rolled into one and I began my intense battle with anxiety. I looked up the symptoms of anxiety (so many times it almost became compulsive, and that would just be another ingredient to throw into my bag of crazy), and it turned out that there are many, many symptoms that would make anyone freak out. Symptoms that would make you think that you were having a heart attack or a stroke or had a tumor or an aneurysm. And dizziness/unsteadiness was right smack in the middle of the list This was about March, when I was getting ready for my last trimester in high school, and I had my Senior presentation coming up and stuff for band and...STRESS. Who wouldn't be anxious about that kind of stuff? In truth, I probably was exhausted and burnt-out on school, as is common among seniors.
Anyway...things came and went, things that would make anyone anxious...and yet the dizziness was still there. For a few weeks, I was on supplements (never actually had to resort to anything like Xanax or the like, thankfully) that were supposed to help me be calm, but those didn't really help all that much. I was on melatonin tablets for a while to help me sleep (yep, I even had insomnia for a few weeks). I was a mess.
School was the worst. I felt like I was floating in and out of reality. I would spend my lunch periods in the office of my band director. This sounds really sad but, luckily, this was actually kind of a safe-haven for me. This was where we ate at lunch, because it meant that all us band kids could talk to each other. But once I stepped out of that room...it was over. I didn't like having to go out to the cafeteria to go get a spoon or a fork or a cookie. And the other six and a half hours...I don't know. I would take as little time as possible to get from one class to another. Then having to sit there...struggling to absorb what my teachers were throwing at me while clutching to my sanity...it didn't help that I had kind of a hefty class load. Or that I started my day at seven-thirty and it ended at four. And I wouldn't get home some nights until almost six. Anxiety makes it hard to concentrate on things, which hindered my inability to really make progress on a lot of my schoolwork, hence my days where I felt worthless and such. And then, of course, there were the days when I couldn't even go to school. When it was physically impossible for me to get out of the car.You guys know exactly which days I'm talking about.
When I wasn't at school, I spent a lot of time alone in the downstairs living room of my house (i.e. our basement), where my bedroom is also, on my computer, surfacing only for meals and, occasionally, outings that my mom would pretty much drag me to in order to get me "socialized". Because of the aforementioned difficulty of walking, I mostly just went with the lesser of the evils that came with the dizziness, which was sitting. On my couch. For hours on end. In my pj's. Often until four or five in the evening on the weekends. Wasting away in front of the T.V. or my computer, not really taking in what was going on around me, just letting everything float past me.But it was really hard for me to enjoy myself, with the constant worrying, keeping inside my head. I didn't like going out in public for a really long time. And, yes, that even included walking around my neighborhood. My first-ever public panic attack in May kind of set me over the edge, so I really didn't like leaving the house after that. Or the car when my mom would force me out of the house. I only left when I really had to.
So I've really missed out on a lot. Things that were fun for me at one point and time now had absolutely no appeal to me. Some even terrified me. This meant going shopping or going to the movies or going to Seattle or going out to eat. I was afraid that something would happen to me while I was out doing these things and I wouldn't be able to escape or get help or whatever...And I know that sounds crazy, but that's what anxiety does to you.
That first panic attack that elicited a doctor's visit unearthed--after a thorough physical examination--that I had fluid in my ears. So they prescribed me some medicine that would surely help me with the dizziness and whatnot. It kind of did. But not really. There probably was some crap in there from allergies. But that really wasn't it. I stopped taking them a few weeks after school got out. And it didn't change a darn thing.
However, this while thing did change almost exactly a week ago when I underwent a relatively minor surgery that most adults undergo once in their life.
It was my f#*%ing wisdom teeth. Messing with my ears because there wasn't any room for them to grow properly because my jaw is so small. Messing with the part of your body that AFFECTS YOUR BALANCE. LIKE MORE THAN YOU THINK IT WOULD. This winter, before...everything...I was complaining to my mom about some ear pain, so I got my wisdom teeth checked out and it turned out that all four had to come out (the bottom two were dangerously close to a nerve in my jaw). That was in April.
Who knew something so relatively insignificant could effect your health that much. I mean, I knew my mom got ear infections (she thought) before she got hers out. But this...whoever decided that we should have wisdom teeth....*shakes fist*. Most people end up having them out at one point or another, and they just cause problems...Heck, if you go to the dentist and they find you have a cavity in one of them, they just pull 'em anyway.
To be honest, I was really worried that this surgery wouldn't fix it, that this would be something that I would have to suffer with for the rest of my life. Especially for the first few days after, when I was still on heavy pain medication that can make you kind of loopy. Not to mention that I didn't really have anything of substance to eat until about five days after. The dizziness persisted a little and I figured--hoped, really--that it was purely due to the fact that that part of my head was still heavily swollen, so my ears would still be a little wonky.
But when I woke up yesterday, I got up and started to get dressed (it was my first day back at work since my surgery) and I noticed that the ground didn't move like it had been for the past seven months. I didn't feel like I had to hold onto anything when I moved, for fear of falling over.
I made a resolution at the beginning of this year to make an honest effort to take care of my body, especially since I'm heading off to college in the fall. Better to get into the habits now than receive a culture-shock in September and be even more susceptible to the "Freshman 15". I did really well for the first few weeks of January. And then it all came crashing down when my wisdom teeth decided it was time to show up and start shaking things up. While all this was happening, I was keeping that in mind. Yet it became increasingly to even get off the couch in my basement and go take my dog for a walk. I fell into a sort of despair, like my dreams of being uber healthy would never be realized because I would be stuck in this unhealthy, dizzy, weird state forever. I haven't been able to walk/run/get active like I wanted to because of all...this. I even lost the 'high' I would get after I marched with my band (yes, like the runner's high). Marching made me anxious, and it's something for which you really need to be physically fit. In past years, leading up to our first parade, I would do laps around my neighborhood in order to train myself. That wasn't the case this year.
Like I sad, though, it all changed when I woke up yesterday, feeling better than I had in months.
This afternoon, I went for a walk that turned into a run, and it felt liberating. Since then I've been busily buzzing around my house, doing chores, organizing piles of clothes for when I go to school, doing laundry...things that have been hard for me to do for the past seven months.
I told myself that, when this whole ordeal is over--if it would ever be over--that I would seriously and vigilantly continue my regiment of making myself healthier. I never thought the day would finally come, the day when I finally felt normal again. And I don't plan on stopping any time soon.
When it becomes so hard to do things, and it's that way for so long...you lose hope. I began to research my symptoms online, and the only results I would find would be of people that had suffered for years and had no sort of relief. Let's say that didn't exactly help me. I continued to do research over the months and I never found anything hopeful or new...and I would pretty much just curl up and cry because I honestly believed that this was me and I was condemned for life. Before I was even 18. And I still had things to do...what was I going to do when I went away to college, where I would be all by myself? Life would be a living hell. And then I thought of the things that I wanted to do after school, even...Backpacking through Europe, becoming a teacher...that just didn't seem feasible anymore. The worst part about this whole thing besides all of the physical and mental weirdness was he fact that I felt like I couldn't talk about it with anyone. I felt alone. I mean, you can talk to people about your anxiety, but unless it's a therapist, it's probably not going to do you much good. Anyway, I thought that, if I told anybody anything that they would think I'm crazy (which I probably was) or dying. Wasn't exactly the most hopeful option.
Again, I'm sorry that I'm not sorry for how long this was. But it needed to be said. And it feels good to finally get all of this off my chest because there's been a lot that's been spinning around my head, stuff that's kept me up at night for weeks on end. And now that it's all done, I have the ability to really sit down and figure it all out. They're all things that need to be said, things that I've probably mentioned in the past, but now I know the source for all this discomfort. Yeah, I'll probably still be anxious about things; I've always been an anxious person. But not in the way that had so negatively impacted my life since January.
This whole ordeal was awful, and I would never wish it upon anyone, even my worst adversary. Nobody deserves to feel that way. At one point, though, I found out that John Green, my favorite author and one of my all-time favorite human beings, also suffered from anxiety and anxiety-related issues. He has social anxiety and he copes with it in a healthy way. But it made me respect him so much more when he publicized this issue. He made a lengthy statement on one of his many social media outlets explaining what was going through his mind around a particular bout of anxiety (it was around the time of him writing his most recent novel, The Fault in Our Stars). And it comforted me, not that he had anxiety, but because he was able to talk about it and talk about how he deals with it. What astounded me the most was that, after almost four years of following him and his work, I had no idea. He never let on. Now he's very public about it and talks about it when people ask--within reason--and I'm finding more of a role model in him than I did when I first read his books. At the end of his statement, he thanked the people who supported him, who tolerated his faults and his anxieties about his work and his life.
So I'd like to do the same.
My friends, those of you who are reading this (you know who you are)...thank you for being yourselves. You brought much joy to my days when everything looked bleak and hopeless. Thank you for the days spent running around Seattle and the parties--you got me out of the house. Thank you for being tolerant, even when you probably thought you weren't needing to be. Thank you for letting my work out my weirdnesses by myself...yet never, for a moment, letting me think that I was ever alone.
And so, my friends, I'll leave you now, feeling fifty pounds lighter (though my feet are planted oh-so-firmly on the ground)...I'm walking around with a smile on my face now : ) I promise to treat my body right, eat well (except there is some red velvet ice cream in my freezer calling my name at this very moment), exercise (there's an amazing rec center at my college that I can't wait to try out when I get there). If you treat your body right, it should treat you right. And don't any of you ever take that for granted.
I'm going on a road trip with two of my oldest friends this coming Sunday, and this would be one of those occasions where it would be really hard to enjoy myself (I would enjoy myself, in some facet...no matter how much I was terrified about any sort of social occasion, I would, eventually, enjoy myself, but I shouldn't have to dread it), yet I wouldn't enjoy it nearly as much if I were constantly worrying. But I think that dark phase of my life is officially over. Let's just say that now I plan on having the time of my life. : )
Which reminds me...I should probably go pack.
On another note, if any of you are feeling anxious (more than would be considered normal or healthy), talk to someone, preferably an adult or a professional OR check out this link. It helped me a lot: http://www.anxietycentre.com/
Also, if you are having dizziness/balance problems, get your ears checked out. Or, you know, go see your dentist. They could seriously help you out. They aren't all bad people. : )
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed Like the Chipmunk I am about to Resemble
(Just as a clarification on the title, I got my wisdom teeth out this morning and my face is just beginning to swell up. Just like the aforementioned chipmunk.)
Anyway, I've been up since about 5:45, my appointment was at 7:30, I was awake by 8:15 and home by 9:15. And resting somewhat comfortably ever since. I mean, my mouth hurts like none other, but otherwise...I'm okay.
And, it's probably from the anesthesia, but I feel really...hyper. If not physically, then mentally. I've been bouncing around the Internet all afternoon, commenting on YouTube videos, sending messages to people. I guess that since I'm being forced to be pretty much immobile (my post-op instructions say to not engage in any sort of physical activity that'll get my heart rate up...just in case my 'wounds' start bleeding again), I'm trying to find a way to communicate with other people (it also took about three hours for me to get full use of my mouth again, so talking to people wasn't exactly an option). Hence the longer-than-usual length of this particular entry. I just need stuff to do.
Side-but-totally-related-note: Say what you want about the health care in the U.S. and the health care workers in the U.S., but I had an AMAZING team take care of me this morning. I mean, getting your wisdom teeth--or any teeth--taken out isn't the worst surgery you can have, but it's still surgery, especially when they put you under like they did for me. I felt totally comfortable, hardly nervous at all. I've actually had two teeth removed before, when I was nine, because there are a lot of things wrong with my mouth, though it may not look like it on the outside...anyway, the same doctor that took my teeth out then did my procedure today. Really cool guy, very laid back, and he knows what he's doing. He treats you like you're a part of his family, like one of his own kids (which is kind of ironic, since his name and my mom's maiden name are the same...even has my grandfather's first name as well...but absolutely no relation, at least not any direct relation). His team was awesome, too. The nurse that brought me in made sue I was totally comfortable on the operating chair/bed. She wanted me to take my hair down out of my ponytail to avoid discomfort...but then she put it back up for me before I woke up :)
And, to top it all off, my oral surgeon called me a few hours afterward to ask me how I was doing. He didn't ask one of his secretaries to do it...he did it himself . On my cellphone.He asked me how I was feeling, if I'd been able to drink anything (because of the whole mouth numbness thing), and he told me to take it easy this weekend.
As I sit here with my face sandwiched between two ice bags, chewing on a few pieces of gauze, it really is nice to know that there are people--successful people--in the medical world that truly care about their patients.
P.S. On a totally unrelated note...apparently there are a lot of you viewing this from Russia. What?! That's crazy. In that case...Zdravstvuj! And spasibo! (I apologize if that is, in any way, incorrect...I just wanted to express my thanks :) )
Anyway, I've been up since about 5:45, my appointment was at 7:30, I was awake by 8:15 and home by 9:15. And resting somewhat comfortably ever since. I mean, my mouth hurts like none other, but otherwise...I'm okay.
And, it's probably from the anesthesia, but I feel really...hyper. If not physically, then mentally. I've been bouncing around the Internet all afternoon, commenting on YouTube videos, sending messages to people. I guess that since I'm being forced to be pretty much immobile (my post-op instructions say to not engage in any sort of physical activity that'll get my heart rate up...just in case my 'wounds' start bleeding again), I'm trying to find a way to communicate with other people (it also took about three hours for me to get full use of my mouth again, so talking to people wasn't exactly an option). Hence the longer-than-usual length of this particular entry. I just need stuff to do.
Side-but-totally-related-note: Say what you want about the health care in the U.S. and the health care workers in the U.S., but I had an AMAZING team take care of me this morning. I mean, getting your wisdom teeth--or any teeth--taken out isn't the worst surgery you can have, but it's still surgery, especially when they put you under like they did for me. I felt totally comfortable, hardly nervous at all. I've actually had two teeth removed before, when I was nine, because there are a lot of things wrong with my mouth, though it may not look like it on the outside...anyway, the same doctor that took my teeth out then did my procedure today. Really cool guy, very laid back, and he knows what he's doing. He treats you like you're a part of his family, like one of his own kids (which is kind of ironic, since his name and my mom's maiden name are the same...even has my grandfather's first name as well...but absolutely no relation, at least not any direct relation). His team was awesome, too. The nurse that brought me in made sue I was totally comfortable on the operating chair/bed. She wanted me to take my hair down out of my ponytail to avoid discomfort...but then she put it back up for me before I woke up :)
And, to top it all off, my oral surgeon called me a few hours afterward to ask me how I was doing. He didn't ask one of his secretaries to do it...he did it himself . On my cellphone.He asked me how I was feeling, if I'd been able to drink anything (because of the whole mouth numbness thing), and he told me to take it easy this weekend.
As I sit here with my face sandwiched between two ice bags, chewing on a few pieces of gauze, it really is nice to know that there are people--successful people--in the medical world that truly care about their patients.
P.S. On a totally unrelated note...apparently there are a lot of you viewing this from Russia. What?! That's crazy. In that case...Zdravstvuj! And spasibo! (I apologize if that is, in any way, incorrect...I just wanted to express my thanks :) )
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Is This How It's Going to Be?
Is this how it's going to be when I come home from school? And things have happened that I'm not aware of and people are angry at each other, and I feel as if can't do anything because, well...I'm not a part of that anymore?
I'm still house-sitting, and I had to go home to pick up the car so I could go to work in the morning. Just as I was about to leave, my grandma called and my mom had was on the phone with her for fifteen minutes, consisting of my mom telling her things that she had obviously told her many times before. Financial stuff. My mom was exasperated as she got off the line. I might mention that my grandma is borderline Alzheimer's. And stubborn as hell. My mom's been trying to deal with her--as harsh as that may sound--since October of 2009 when my grandpa passed away. I don't think my mom's slept soundly since. Not to mention she's pretty much alone in this whole endeavor, even though she has three other siblings. She probably got roped in because she's the oldest.
But when she gets done with these phone conversations or five-hour long "trips to the grocery store" that also involve my mom balancing her checkbook and checking her septic system and taking the dog--who's just as decrepit--to the vet...and she's exhausted and frustrated and angry. And I can't do anything but sit there and listen.
And today, right before I left to go back to the house, she told me that, should she keel over in the near future, two people are two blame. "My mother and your dad," she told me.
That's another thing.
I don't know the whole story. Never want to know the whole story. They've been divorced for as long as I can remember. And it's hell. As of late, my dad is/was being a tad bit lazy with his most recent child support payment. And my mom is severely pissed at him. This happened while I was away from home. It makes me wonder what'll happen when I'm at school. My mom won't be able to ask me, I visit my dad, if he gave me a check for that month's dues. If I'll come home and she'll be angry at everyone. There'll be stories that I won't be around to hear as they happen.
That's growing up, though. Home, your house, is no longer the place where your stories originate. The stories that intervene with your life come from your workplace, your college campus. Going anywhere else and hearing stories...they aren't yours anymore. They're someone else's.
I'm still house-sitting, and I had to go home to pick up the car so I could go to work in the morning. Just as I was about to leave, my grandma called and my mom had was on the phone with her for fifteen minutes, consisting of my mom telling her things that she had obviously told her many times before. Financial stuff. My mom was exasperated as she got off the line. I might mention that my grandma is borderline Alzheimer's. And stubborn as hell. My mom's been trying to deal with her--as harsh as that may sound--since October of 2009 when my grandpa passed away. I don't think my mom's slept soundly since. Not to mention she's pretty much alone in this whole endeavor, even though she has three other siblings. She probably got roped in because she's the oldest.
But when she gets done with these phone conversations or five-hour long "trips to the grocery store" that also involve my mom balancing her checkbook and checking her septic system and taking the dog--who's just as decrepit--to the vet...and she's exhausted and frustrated and angry. And I can't do anything but sit there and listen.
And today, right before I left to go back to the house, she told me that, should she keel over in the near future, two people are two blame. "My mother and your dad," she told me.
That's another thing.
I don't know the whole story. Never want to know the whole story. They've been divorced for as long as I can remember. And it's hell. As of late, my dad is/was being a tad bit lazy with his most recent child support payment. And my mom is severely pissed at him. This happened while I was away from home. It makes me wonder what'll happen when I'm at school. My mom won't be able to ask me, I visit my dad, if he gave me a check for that month's dues. If I'll come home and she'll be angry at everyone. There'll be stories that I won't be around to hear as they happen.
That's growing up, though. Home, your house, is no longer the place where your stories originate. The stories that intervene with your life come from your workplace, your college campus. Going anywhere else and hearing stories...they aren't yours anymore. They're someone else's.
Friday, July 13, 2012
"Those who can, do...
...and those who can't, teach." I'm calling BS.
I'm watching a documentary called 'American Teacher', and it's making me do a lot of thinking.
Teachers have been an integral part of my life. And not just because they've been in and out of my life for the past thirteen years while I've completed my basic education. No. Let's just say that it's kind of a family business. I have two uncles and two aunts who are teachers. Another aunt has a degree in teaching. Not to mention that both of my parents are also teachers. My step-mom is even a teacher.
I heard a friend say once that she wanted to be a teacher because, in her mind, it was the only profession she had been around and had any sort of idea of how the career worked. At the time, it seemed assuming of her to say something like that...that, truthfully, she had no exposure to any sort of career during her schooling other than teaching.
Now I kind of see her point. I have not gone a single day in my life and not have had school--whether or not it was the school I attended--a part of my life. I went to my mom's school after school almost every day, even into high school. Living in a single-parent household, long hours were spent waiting for my mom to finish up with work. And she actually was never a teacher in my lifetime. In my mind, she's always been an administrator. And, still, she put in hours way beyond those asked of her. She had meetings that wouldn't end until five, six p.m., and most times I would be there waiting for her, never able to go to dance or soccer practice or anything else that the average kid would get to do after school (way too many piano and/or guitar lessons were missed because of a meeting going over time or my mom having to deal with a student disciplinary issue...I probably would have done lessons longer if this weren't the case).
You probably won't be surprised to hear that my chosen pathway, as I am embarking on my collegiate career, is education. Because of the aforementioned reasons. However...there's been a lot of thinking on my part about this whole things...Depending on the person, when people ask me what I want to go into while I'm at school, I've caught myself saying "I don't know" because I feel...ashamed that I want to go into education. Because of what society has made of the teaching profession. When I tell people, I get this vibe from them that they know I can do better. Why would I want to be a teacher? There are so many other options out there...A few months ago, I over-heard my grandma talking to my mom, and my mom mentioned my wanting to go into education. My grandma was disgusted by this notion. 'Why the hell would she want to do that? She's got better things to do in life than stand in front of a classroom.
I know two people, at least, who go door-to-door and do demonstrations for highly over-priced knives. They get paid by the demonstration, not by the amount of knives they actually convince people to buy. Even thirty-five years ago, my mom knew these two brothers in college. One was working as a teacher, and the other worked Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at a steakhouse while he finished school. The man who worked at the steakhouse made more money than his teacher brother. Something's wrong with that.
The teaching profession in the United States makes me angry. Really angry. Because teachers, the good ones, put in more hours than are truly expected of them. And they are leaving the classroom at an alarming rate because of the lack of respect for the profession and the lack of financial support for the countless hours they put into ensuring their children--your children are obtaining the best education possible.
These people are heroes, mentors, counselors...friends...and they make lasting impressions on their students. I can't tell you how many of my teachers have taught me lessons beyond their designated subject areas. And this is not an uncommon occurrence. They deserve to have the time and the resources to be able to do their job to the best of their abilities. They should be able to attend trainings and conferences to learn from other teachers and learn how to do their job more effectively...or even teach others how to do their job more effectively. And they shouldn't have to pay heavily out of pocket in order to do so. Either give them a larger classroom budget, or give them a larger salary.
I don't know where I was going with this...maybe just a 'reaction' post to 'American Teacher'. Take what you want from this. I'm going to bed.
I'm watching a documentary called 'American Teacher', and it's making me do a lot of thinking.
Teachers have been an integral part of my life. And not just because they've been in and out of my life for the past thirteen years while I've completed my basic education. No. Let's just say that it's kind of a family business. I have two uncles and two aunts who are teachers. Another aunt has a degree in teaching. Not to mention that both of my parents are also teachers. My step-mom is even a teacher.
I heard a friend say once that she wanted to be a teacher because, in her mind, it was the only profession she had been around and had any sort of idea of how the career worked. At the time, it seemed assuming of her to say something like that...that, truthfully, she had no exposure to any sort of career during her schooling other than teaching.
Now I kind of see her point. I have not gone a single day in my life and not have had school--whether or not it was the school I attended--a part of my life. I went to my mom's school after school almost every day, even into high school. Living in a single-parent household, long hours were spent waiting for my mom to finish up with work. And she actually was never a teacher in my lifetime. In my mind, she's always been an administrator. And, still, she put in hours way beyond those asked of her. She had meetings that wouldn't end until five, six p.m., and most times I would be there waiting for her, never able to go to dance or soccer practice or anything else that the average kid would get to do after school (way too many piano and/or guitar lessons were missed because of a meeting going over time or my mom having to deal with a student disciplinary issue...I probably would have done lessons longer if this weren't the case).
You probably won't be surprised to hear that my chosen pathway, as I am embarking on my collegiate career, is education. Because of the aforementioned reasons. However...there's been a lot of thinking on my part about this whole things...Depending on the person, when people ask me what I want to go into while I'm at school, I've caught myself saying "I don't know" because I feel...ashamed that I want to go into education. Because of what society has made of the teaching profession. When I tell people, I get this vibe from them that they know I can do better. Why would I want to be a teacher? There are so many other options out there...A few months ago, I over-heard my grandma talking to my mom, and my mom mentioned my wanting to go into education. My grandma was disgusted by this notion. 'Why the hell would she want to do that? She's got better things to do in life than stand in front of a classroom.
I know two people, at least, who go door-to-door and do demonstrations for highly over-priced knives. They get paid by the demonstration, not by the amount of knives they actually convince people to buy. Even thirty-five years ago, my mom knew these two brothers in college. One was working as a teacher, and the other worked Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at a steakhouse while he finished school. The man who worked at the steakhouse made more money than his teacher brother. Something's wrong with that.
The teaching profession in the United States makes me angry. Really angry. Because teachers, the good ones, put in more hours than are truly expected of them. And they are leaving the classroom at an alarming rate because of the lack of respect for the profession and the lack of financial support for the countless hours they put into ensuring their children--your children are obtaining the best education possible.
These people are heroes, mentors, counselors...friends...and they make lasting impressions on their students. I can't tell you how many of my teachers have taught me lessons beyond their designated subject areas. And this is not an uncommon occurrence. They deserve to have the time and the resources to be able to do their job to the best of their abilities. They should be able to attend trainings and conferences to learn from other teachers and learn how to do their job more effectively...or even teach others how to do their job more effectively. And they shouldn't have to pay heavily out of pocket in order to do so. Either give them a larger classroom budget, or give them a larger salary.
I don't know where I was going with this...maybe just a 'reaction' post to 'American Teacher'. Take what you want from this. I'm going to bed.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Much-Needed Rest
Hello, lovelies. It's bee a while, hasn't it?
What have you all been up to in the month since we last spoke?
...
(Honestly, feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you've been doing so far this summer...)
It's taken a while for summer to finally kick in for me. Maybe because school got out two weeks after the seniors left. Maybe it's because, until about Tuesday, the weather's been rather...un-summery. Seriously, it's been like 70+ degrees for the past four days. First time all year.
Maybe it also feels like summer finally because I'm at a job now. And the only reason I'm really calling it a job is because I'm getting paid. It's hardly work at all. Basically, I'm house-sitting and dog-sitting for the ext two weeks. The only things I have to do are let the dogs out a few times a day, feed them, and stay overnight with them. And occasionally feed the turtles, water the plants, and take the trash out. That leaves a lot of extra time to just...hang out. They have Netflix (I'm currently on my sixth or seventh episode of Doctor Who and it's barely been one day). And a Wii. So I'm pretty much getting paid to sit around all day and play with the dogs and read and watch movies. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.
While I'm cooped up in this house all the time, though, I'm trying to find other things to keep myself busy and...productive. I'm starting a little work-out regime for myself so I don't completely waste away in front of the T.V. all day and waste this amazing weather we're having (did I mention that these people also bought me food to last me the entire two weeks?). I'm going to do my darndest to keep it up every day I'm here and add new things to my little routine every day as well. These people have a super long drive-way that's a good length for walking back and forth on, so I can do "laps" every day.
On the other hand, I really am enjoying this relaxing pseudo-vacation. I get to stay up late and sleep in every day (after I feed the dogs at 6 a.m.). And not get out of my pj's until the afternoon. That's nice as well.
I'll probably post more things during my time here, just to keep myself busy and to exercise my creative juices. I mean, I've been kind of lonely, in a way, since BEDSY ended.
I'll figure something else out eventually. Maybe I'll do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month for those not in the know). Or something more normal. Like BEDA.
Hope you're all having a fabulous summer! : )
What have you all been up to in the month since we last spoke?
...
(Honestly, feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you've been doing so far this summer...)
It's taken a while for summer to finally kick in for me. Maybe because school got out two weeks after the seniors left. Maybe it's because, until about Tuesday, the weather's been rather...un-summery. Seriously, it's been like 70+ degrees for the past four days. First time all year.
Maybe it also feels like summer finally because I'm at a job now. And the only reason I'm really calling it a job is because I'm getting paid. It's hardly work at all. Basically, I'm house-sitting and dog-sitting for the ext two weeks. The only things I have to do are let the dogs out a few times a day, feed them, and stay overnight with them. And occasionally feed the turtles, water the plants, and take the trash out. That leaves a lot of extra time to just...hang out. They have Netflix (I'm currently on my sixth or seventh episode of Doctor Who and it's barely been one day). And a Wii. So I'm pretty much getting paid to sit around all day and play with the dogs and read and watch movies. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.
While I'm cooped up in this house all the time, though, I'm trying to find other things to keep myself busy and...productive. I'm starting a little work-out regime for myself so I don't completely waste away in front of the T.V. all day and waste this amazing weather we're having (did I mention that these people also bought me food to last me the entire two weeks?). I'm going to do my darndest to keep it up every day I'm here and add new things to my little routine every day as well. These people have a super long drive-way that's a good length for walking back and forth on, so I can do "laps" every day.
On the other hand, I really am enjoying this relaxing pseudo-vacation. I get to stay up late and sleep in every day (after I feed the dogs at 6 a.m.). And not get out of my pj's until the afternoon. That's nice as well.
I'll probably post more things during my time here, just to keep myself busy and to exercise my creative juices. I mean, I've been kind of lonely, in a way, since BEDSY ended.
I'll figure something else out eventually. Maybe I'll do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month for those not in the know). Or something more normal. Like BEDA.
Hope you're all having a fabulous summer! : )
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