a tough call

In starting my own business I never dreamed of facing this situation.

It might seem like a no-brainer to anyone else, but as I have no paycheck coming in the summertime due to vacation and book-writing, course-planning investment time, a little tutoring here and there for summer school students helps out quite a bit, especially at $50/hour.

*-----*

Permit me to digress for contextuality's sake:

My decisions for leaving the Uni teaching staff were varied.

-I was unable to commit to a full-time position toward which faculty was pushing me due to the young ages of my children. In fact, I had to take a term off when The Young Prince was born.

-With childcare considerations, I could only teach evening courses, which usually had me returning home anywhere, depending on the hours of the courses I taught. Sometimes I taught the 5-8 block, others the 7-10 block. This, while having to arrive early to fulfill my required office hour presence--during which I, of course, ended up helping everyone else's students whose profs did not show for their posted office hours. Lovely.

-It was believed that natives, no matter how badly they teach, still teach better than non-native speakers and thus certain classes were withheld from non-native speaker reach. That was just discriminatory.

-I was wanted in a full-time position as I was known for creativity and hard work. I am good at test-writing and I would fulfill a complementary position, making the Department look good by offering conferences and workshops. But I was one of very few--and all of us non-natives, surprisingly--who actually did work to complete what our contracts required of us. So much time at home in front of the computer test-writing and planning and printing, since we were not permitted to make photocopies of anything other than exams due to budget cuts, took very valuable time away from my children. They couldn't comprehend that I was doing this for work, because they couldn't see what "work" was for me.

-I was feeling burned out due to all the effort and little professional gratification, although I loved the majority of the students I taught, and I really enjoyed the traditional/non-traditional student mix that the evening courses brought me.

-I was being threatened by a student that last term. I had been threatened before by a guy in summer school who never showed up for class and, when his final grade was a D, he sent me "or else..." emails that I just sent right up my chain of command and never had to deal with him. But this was a young lady who had transferred into this Uni from out-of-state, was on some sort of medication (I'm not sure what but at one point she referred to her psychiatrist and her medications in a conversation with me). It started with emails intended to intimidate, but "anonymously" sent (obviously not too saavy as very little is truly anonymous on email) so I had my techie-dude friends at the Department help me out a bit and track the IP of the system from which the emails were sent. They were astounded at the language used--although not profane, it was extremely intimidating. I'll refrain from going into all details but, after the same student I strongly suspected of threats insinuated that I was a b*tch in class one night, there wasn't much more I could do but report her behavior and communications to her dean, who then asked me if I was getting police escorts back to my car at night after teaching.

*-----*

When doing my normal insomniac middle-of-the-night email check last night, I about fell out of bed when I found an email from that same student in my junk folder. She needs a Spanish tutor for the summer, from after July 4 through the beginning of August. Granted, there will be one weekend in there that will be impossible for me as I will be out of town. I know she is not going to get a grade from me so that gives her no reason to be threatening toward me--but what if she does not put forth the effort on her own to achieve the grade she wants? A tutor can only do so much. I know she is contacting me because I was the best Spanish teacher she had at that Uni and I left--because I was one of the best there, even in my worst semester while dealing with her.

What frightens me is knowing what she has done, without her knowing I know, and my worries that, if things don't go her way she will know where I live. True, I could be creating a mountain out of a mere molehill but, then again she might be a crazy case.

I could opt to meet her at a coffee shop and tutor there. Disadvantages are that I would need to arrange childcare and the concentration levels would be difficult to achieve; I have my own little classroom in my home, whiteboard and comfy chairs and all, and there is a lot to say for ambiance.

So there we are. I think I already know what my decision is on whether to take her or not--any other opinions out there?

saving the world, one baby birdie at a time

Today I gave Mother Nature a little hand.

As it is late Spring here in the Northern Hemisphere, there are many baby birds hatching from their nests in the various trees, filling the air with the joyful and sometimes frantic chirping of newly hatched chicks and first-time parents. New birds are learning to spread their wings and fly from their comfortable nests. However, this first flight can actually end up being much more of a stumble into a situation out of which Baby Birdie cannot quite find a way!

I heard a very insistent chirping coming from the garage early this afternoon, so I sent the little monkeys to investigate. The chirping ceased and no bird flew out of the garage, so I decided to take a look around. I could see nothing and, as there was no more chirping had no sound assistance to go on. Coming out of the garage, I noticed gray fuzz in my big rosemary bush, behind my lavender and oregano in my herb garden. It was a baby mockingbird! Still with some newborn down on its head and little feet that are way too big for its body, but just looking at me and staying calm in the rosemary. I called the children over and we all quietly admired this being that had no choice but to be our captive entertainment.

I thought that I was perhaps mistaken, that Rosemary Birdie was the one that I had heard and that it had gotten lost from its Mama Birdie. But then the panicked chirping ensued. We returned to the garage but found nothing. La Princesita's ride then arrived to wisk her off to play for the afternoon, so the Young Prince and Mama Llama were left alone to solve this mystery.

The chirping began again. Silently I entered the garage, deducing from the sound that it was on the right-hand side. Following the chirps, I found Baby Birdie #2 on top of one of the front wheels of the lawn mower! Remembering that baby bunnies, if carrying the scent of humans on their fur when newborn are eaten by their families, I quickly found a sweatshirt and inserted my arms and hands into the arms of the pullover so that I could catch the bird without tarnishing it in any way with my scent. I had to "calmly chase" the creature around a bit but, after a bit of coaxing was able to gently grab Baby Birdie #2 and ever so lightly carry it out to be with its sibling out on the rosemary.

There they sat for a good while, siblings, the one from the garage squawking quite a bit in protest of their mother having pushed them out the nest. "How dare you! You see what happened? We weren't ready and had to deal with those HUMANS you warned us about! And you pushed us into their world!" The eternal child-to-parent guilt trip--I could hear it in the chirp.

Later this afternoon, upon The Young Prince and my return, we noticed that one of the babies was gone. Still remaining was the vociferous one, but even it had gone from the rosemary to the stones just below the lavender. I mentioned to my son that it might be a good idea to watch from the large window overlooking our driveway and see what happens.

Sure enough, in flies Mama (or Papa, who knows) Birdie and gives Baby Birdie something to eat. Then Mama flies to the fence, looking back as if trying to coax Baby to follow. Baby stands its ground.

Later, I see Mama making another approach, hopping over the driveway and back to the fence. I never did see Baby Birdie follow as I was also sauteeing my first garden squash of the season, but when I went out to check on Baby's progress, I was surprised to see that Baby Birdie was gone!

I doubt Baby Birdie would have found its way out of the garage, or if Mama Birdie would have gone in after it to coax it out of hiding. So I feel that my intervention was warranted and gave Mother Nature a bit of a helping hand this afternoon.

After all--we are all in this together, are we not?

4 weeks!

In light of rapidly rising gas prices, I have made several proactive changes in my life:

1. I bought a bike. A much better one than I had before...and yes, it is purple! And yes, I am riding it...when not walking with The Young Prince on his bike...which brings me to #2:
2. I got The Young Prince on a bike. Sure, he's on training wheels. But it makes my walking trips a lot faster without tiring him out half as much.
3. I have encouraged La Princesita to ride more, and will hopefully be weaning her off training wheels this summer.
4. I have been condensing trips much more than ever before (and I was pretty good before), finding more to do close to the home or at home than having to jump in the car and ride somewhere. I create circles of my weekly stops and try to finish a weeks' worth of whatever it is I need to do on that circuit without once having to retrace my path so as to be as efficient as possible.
5. I have instated a "No-Drive Tuesday" into my week. My car does not leave the garage at least one day a week, sometimes Thursdays as well.

My goal was to get down to only filling up my gas tank once a month, unless a big trip was involved (in which case I would factor in the gas in the budget). I was not quite on empty this morning, the light was not yet on, but since I had just spent and arm and a leg on groceries and earned my $.10 off a gallon at the gas station, I went ahead and filled up today.

Checked my receipts. The last time, indeed, that I had filled up was March 31.

I made four weeks! I am proud of myself.

Baby steps...

Life's little ironies

In one week, one of the strangest weeks of my life will--or rather, should--be over.

1. On Friday I must fly to Nashville for the court hearing regarding this lawsuit and finally, hopefully, put this all behind me. I am being charged with negligence by the insurance company behind the mask of the individual who went out with my car when we spun out and flipped when we were forced off the road by a "phantom vehicle" that fled the scene. My car never hit hers; she swerved to miss me and she is suing for damages to her Bronco. Her basis is negligence. All three witnesses have been found and subpoenaed to court for next Friday, and all three state that she has no case and that I did the only thing I could in the situation to avoid being hit into oncoming traffic (coming at us at least at 65 mph) and keep my family alive. It is difficult to not take this personally because it is personal; her insurance company is making her sue me (whether or not she wants to) because they feel my decision-making was erroneous.

I have to fly through Detroit to get to Nashville. I wonder what will happen if 1. flights are delayed and I don't arrive on time, or 2. flights are cancelled and I don't get there at all and am stuck instead in Detroit. Why I wasn't purchased a direct flight from my very-major local international airport is only cost--and since my insurance company so strongly believes that I am going to be saving them over $20,000.00 in not having to pay out liability with my testimony, you would think that they would go ahead and spring for a direct-flight ticket that would guarantee my arrival, no matter what the cost.

But no...that is too easy.

2. I have a new night class that starts on Wednesday night. That will be fun, and I have the texts printed and ready to go. One less task to have to complete this weekend!

3. While having my judgment put on trial on Friday, I am being honored by my Town Mayor on Tuesday night.

I was one of a handful of individuals in my Town to be nominated by a Town Council member for a Mayorial Award for Outstanding Volunteerism.

Sounds impressive, ¿no?

All it comes from was putting into action the dream of the PTA President at La Princesita's elementary school by forming a recycling committee and starting a full-blown recycling program at that school, the first of its kind in the Town's public schools. Whereas before only paper was recycled, we have now started recycling cans and plastic, and just this week batteries. I publish a Recycling Tip of the Week in the school newsletter, the PTA newsletter and in over the school's morning "news program" which is broadcast by the upper-classes to all the students of the school in order to edcuate the entire school community about all the different things we can do every day to use less or recycle that which we have finished using. We also formed a neighborhood clean-up and this year will formally join in the Town's Clean-Up Day in November as a school team.

But I'm a native Oregonian. That is what we do. Recycle. Take care of our Mother. It's not anything that out of the ordinary--it is just who I am, it's in my blood. The real hero is the PTA President/Goddess. She is an amazing woman. She is, likewise, to be honored that night.

Funny, how in four days' time next week I am to be both richly honored for the integrity of my decisions and on trial for supposed negligence in my decisions.

tears

I read the story and sobbed. Hard.

What has happened to us?

Northern Illinois University, site of the "latest" campus "shooting event"...incredible that we can even use "latest" and "shooting event" in the same clause... I just don't know what to think. What have we done to ourselves? What has happened?

I feel these attacks personally. I had to teach in that post-broken-innocence, that all teachers (and students) now face in each and every classroom in the United States. I have had threats, I have been fearful, I have wondered what would have happened if I had said the wrong thing one night when a certain student had forgotten to take her meds.

And I have two children who I am trying my hardest to raise as loving, trusting souls...but must I put a caveat on everything I teach? "Yes, trust...but then again, you can't really trust anyone. You're in this alone. Really." That is not the world in which I want my children taking part.

But I have no choice.

Maybe I'm thinking too deeply about this. I just hate and resent, truly resent how utterly helpless I feel facing all we have to face now.

How can I change it? What in the world can I do to change this?

いじめ ijime-bullying

いじめ ijime Bullying was and I am certain still is a topic of great social concern in Japan. The kinds of pressure put on the working classes by superiors bears striking resemblance to and perhaps has its roots in schoolyard bullying to which I was privy on several occasions. Due to Japan's highly competitive natural social consciousness, I suppose that いじめ could be seen as a means to an end, that end being the elimination of possible competition. However, いじめ can occur for any variety of reasons, including being too good in school subjects or being too unlike others in a homogenous and conformist society. いじめ could also take on a variety of forms, from simple name-calling to violent and sinister acts, similar to severe hazing activities seen on university campuses in the States (now illegal) such as physical torture and vandalism to personal property.

It is extremely sad to say that each year several young people, usually middle-school aged, fall victim to such radical degrees of いじめ that they commit suicide. In Japanese society, the admission of いじめ is seen as a weakness, that one cannot handle his/her own problems and an admission to the shameful state of being different.

One of my thirteen-year old students, a girl, was a victim of いじめ during my years in 中之条 Nakanojo. She went to the neighboring town's train station and, one afternoon jumped off the bridge over the tracks in front of an oncoming train, was struck and died.

I remember thinking, wondering, wracking my brain in retrospect, if I had ever realized she was experiencing the difficulties with which she was faced. Was there ever a situation in which I could have intervened? Could I have ever showed her that someone did care? Would it have made a difference if someone had? Was it too late? All questions nobody would ever be able to answer, and the situation was never spoken of in the school besides in the normal morning teacher's meeting.

In the past five years or so the Japanese media has adopted the issue of いじめ and thrust it into the spotlight in order to address what has become a serious problem among young people. Incidences of suicide due to いじめ are down and reported いじめ situations are down as well...which does not necessarily mean anything significant; いじめ may be called by a different name in a toned-down manner much like some large metropolitan areas lower their homicide rates by utilizing other terminology in the "naming" of the crimes.

My experience with the sad effects of いじめ carries into my life here; I am extremely sensitive to the issue of bullying at whatever level in schools or in sports. Teaching my children to be more empathetic towards others is, at this most basic level, how I try to train them to not fall into the trap of poking fun or pushing others around in any way. Yet I don't want my children to fall victim, either. When my daughter was younger, we unfortunately had a couple of playmates that would seek her out just to hit her on the head with some blunt foreign object. Why her, I don't exactly know. Parents were around, but she was singled out and hit. Granted, there were either developmental or possibly emotional issues those children were dealing with and I so wanted to try to keep an open mind so these other children could learn to play well and cooperatively...but not at the expense of my daughter's well-being.

I found myself wondering how much I should teach my daughter to tolerate, and how much I should teach her to fight back, which falls contrary to my ethics. It is funny, though, how this evokes a memory of Girls State, in the summer going into my senior year in high school, I was chosen from my county to vie for Girls Nation and the impromptu speech topic we were given 30 seconds to think and speak on was "Terrorism: Tolerate or Retaliate?" In a way, bullying can be seen in this same light, and the moral decision to stand up for oneself and fight back or to tolerate the abuse so as not to stir up more trouble is a decision that has obviously been too much to bear for those young students in Japan. It is a decision we all must make at some level or at some point in our formative years, be it during a recesstime scuffle on the playground, the stealing of lunch money, or even being teased or bearing witness to others being teased. What does one do? What must one do?

ethics

My ethical ideals in the workplace have caused more trouble than good in the history of my career in education.

I remember lying to my parents about taking on my very first student when I was a senior in high school. I was already active in way too many activities, ranging from debate team to two different orchestras to being the school board representative, while also holding a part-time job in a new teeny-bopper clothing store in the newly opened Mall in town (this was the late 1980s). And yet I was given what I saw in my 17-year old eyes to be the opportunity of a lifetime: to have a private violin student of my own. I made arrangements with my orchestra teacher to stay after school and reserve the orchestra practice room to facilitate this subversion of my parents' will for one hour a week. I don't believe they ever found out about this student until well after our arrangement had ended, when I ran into that student later while home on break from the University.

Why did I go behind their backs? Only because I really wanted the chance to teach. I had two parents who were teachers, good teachers, and all I wanted since I was a child was to teach. It was what I believed to be a time to start whittling down that which I wanted to teach and that which I did not.

I permitted myself to become emotionally involved in the lives of the Mexican custodial staff at the University and the children of those who had come to the local farms as strawberry pickers while teaching ESL classes. I became an on-campus advocate, a voice for those who worked at cleaning our messes, scrubbing our toilets and disposing of our trash who were essentially invisible to the student population, and spent many hours in the office of the head of Student Services trying to not only bring to light but also to inform and, ultimately, resolve discriminatory practices and what simply boiled down to disrespectful treatment of others. That did not earn me a lot of new friends--but I felt I did not need the friendship of those who would treat Mexicans so badly.

I felt horrible when one of the small children I worked with as a local ESL teacher in the elementary school would test positive for TB; so horrible that I would accompany to the lung x-ray procedure the scared child who did not speak English and who had never before seen machinery as that we see in any local hospital here...all after-hours work, but my conscience would not permit those children to experience that without someone there to hold their hand, make communication easier, and let them know it would all be just fine.

In Japan I entered the 職員室 shokuin shitsu teachers' office one Monday morning in the second Autumn, 1995, of my tenure, to see Mr. ゴ "Go" hollering impatiently and passionately at a male student, who was kneeling at his teacher's feet. Mr. ゴ then struck this child (a seventh-grade student) across the face so hard that he fell to the floor and he then began kicking the child in the stomach. I fled the room and threw up in the bathroom. Extremely bothered by this situation, I later went to speak to the 3rd in charge. His response?
-Oh, he wasn't kicking him that hard.
So, understanding the "see nothing-hear nothing-say nothing" rule that exists among coworkers in order to maintain harmony in the workplace, yet also knowing for a fact that capital punishment in the schools was at that time and continues to be an illegal practice in Japan (although, obviously, still practiced), I went to my head supervisor: the superintendent.
The next day, the air in the 職員室 when I arrived had turned icy cold. "Someone" had gone back to the school and said that I, specifically, had reported this occurance. Mr. ゴ did end up facing disciplinary action on the prefectural level and was demoted in position, and in the spring of 1997 was rotated out of the school to another. However I had to face him each day and a room full of coworkers who did not agree with my ethics in reporting something that was illegal and would never speak to me again. Interestingly, in the "welcome dinner" to the new teachers in April 1997, I had half the faculty of the school come up to me to tell me that they supported me and my decision, but they "could not say anything, of course...I'm sure you understand why."

While teaching at Tulane University in New Orleans after having completed my Masters (I had been in the PhD program but ended with my Masters for various reasons, including having just been married and having lost my father right at the end of my school work) I had a student turn in a paper to me in better Spanish that I could have written. It took my friend and I ten minutes to find the entire paper online, I submitted it all to the Honor Board of the University and this student lost all her scholarships, failed my class and was put on academic probation for plagiarism. She did it to herself; I have always made myself more than adequately available to my students and considered myself approachable and relatively flexible regarding arrangements for, say, handing in a paper late if there was too much happening in Life. There was no need to risk throwing it all away. It was hard not to take personally; did she take me as an idiot, who wouldn't be able to spot a plagiarized paper from a mile away? I did the right thing. But I could easily have ruined her life.

I just ended my teaching tenure at a local University for various reasons. There were interesting experiences had there. One regarding ethics revolved around a colleague who also tutored students. Unaware of the fact that she was tutoring one of my students that term, and considering we were professional colleagues I never thought twice when she emailed asking for a copy of the exams. I thought that, in that term, she must have been teaching the same level and didn't get the exams (this was a basic program 200-level course, so most exams were standardized with reasonable variation between versions). She, however, never disclosed that she was tutoring one of my students. A young man for whom I have since written a law school recommendation approached me following an exam and asked to speak to me outside, and mentioned that in his study group the night before, one of the girls (with whom he usually sat in class) came in waving a couple pieces of paper saying, "I've got the exam!" He said that he left, knowing that his entire future could be in jeopardy if he had remained party to that study session.
So I then decided to go first to the departmental secretary, who had been around for years and who truly ran the Department (everyone knows that is true in every Department) and asked her opinion as to what I should do...this was a strong accusation against a professional colleague. I talked then to my Chair and he took things from there. I, of course, had to deal with the wrath of this hot-tempered latina who had her integrity questioned and suffered what she described being the most humilliating experience of her professional life...all due to some here-say from a "stupid" student (her words, not mine). Did I have reason?

Other events occured and, at the end of last year, I decided to try my hand at having my own business. I have the drive, the discipline, the work ethic and the motivation. I had a room in my home I could make into my own home classroom. It has been a learning experience but I have several regular students, am officially licensed with the State and the Town Business Registries, and did register as LLC to protect myself...just in case. I have dotted all my proverbial Is and am so honestly deducting appropriately for taxes...nothing is "under the table."

A few of my students are high school students in AP or IB classes, and their mothers had contacted me to request that I tutor their daughters for this school year. As a former educator in educational system, I find it respectful and ethical to let the students' teachers know that I am working with their students, in an effort to open lines of communication and so they know that this student is trying to get extra assistance in understanding what they are not grasping in class. We all know that teachers rarely have the time to entertain all the questions and to give the individualized attention that it can take for some learners to truly acquire their skills. I do not do my students' work for them; I do what I did in my writing classes at the University when it comes to their written work, which is mark their papers with editing marks, to which I provide my students a guide (indicating verb conjugation errors, gender/number agreement errors and the like but NOT correcting them) and expect the students themselves to perform the corrections so as to 1) learn from their errors, 2) give them the opportunity to ask me what something would mean and highlight a possible weakness that requires further attention, and 3) teach them how to critically read their own writing so as not to repeat the same errors.

Upon sending an email to one teacher, I received a response stating that she would not normally "waste her time emailing tutors" but felt it necessary to question my ethics. I mentioned we work together with proofing her papers so that she can come to understand her errors (indeed, the teacher herself does not "edit" or mark up papers for improvement but simply checks them off as completed and hands them back) and actually improve herself a little bit...hence the theory behind education...? Anyhow, this teacher said that homework is only to be done by the student and that we have violated this ethic, not to mention that it would be unethical for her to discuss a student's grade with a tutor. I had said that my student had a B and wanted an A, and inquired to the teacher what she sees this student's particular weaknesses and strengths to be, and how she might improve upon her performance in order to reach her goal. That has nothing to do with discussing grades; that is me doing my job in wanting to be on the same page as the teacher for the good of the student...a student who, by the way, has enough interest in the subject to want to actually learn and is willing to spend time weekly with a tutor to actually have her questions addressed in an open, comprehensible, patient manner.

I must note, I spoke to each of my students and had their full permission to contact their instructors previous to making contact with them.

I am astounded. I have never run into this issue before with other students I have tutored and, appropriately, informed their instructor of this assistance I was providing. I wonder how many tutors actually have enough "ethic" to contact their client's teacher and offer to work together. How many tutors have enough "ethic" to not just let their work slide as their student's work just to make them look good as a tutor and to gain popularity as a tutor who will "get you the grade"? How many tutors have enough "ethic" to deduct 35% and report all earnings to the IRS? How many tutors actually, honestly care about their students (I ask the same of a lot...NOT ALL...teachers)?

Now I am afraid I have created for my student an incredible conflict of interest in her classroom, with a teacher who is convinced she is cheating with a personal tutor and might actually grade her harder while doubting the integrity of everything she turns in...all because I tried to do the right thing and let her know that this particular student (and I am sure she is not the only one) has an "ethical" tutor who does not believe that secrecy should govern when the educational benefit to the student is what really counts.

Education...aren't we all supposed to be in this together for the good of those who actually want to learn something, not JUST for test scores?

Or perhaps I am just to leave ethics out of the classroom...? I hate to say that it all makes me wonder...

Or am I just terribly, terribly naïve?

and it is Monday!

What a gorgeous morning. Sun shining, birdies singing...

I was unloading dishes when the sound of my eldest wretching reached my ears. Poor thing started her day throwing up. Whatever it was seems to have now, fortunately, passed.

My headache lingers, but I can work today. Goal: finish Chapter 10 of the text by Wednesday. We'll see if that happens. But it's a goal.

La Princesita's kindergarten conference was this morning. She has already demonstrated having exceeded all kindergarten learning objectives. But she's a smarty-pants and a perfectionist, so I'm neither bragging nor am surprised. That is just who she is. However, she has been noticed to want to stay with the teachers during recess or play by herself rather than play with her classmates. There are various possible reasons for this that we brainstormed, one of which could be having had the one little girl she really felt empathy with, Rosie, who left the school as soon as the two girls were really starting to feel close. Although this occurred at the beginning of the school year, we all know what a sensitive soul La Princesita is. She could be afraid of getting close. She could be shy in meeting others, as the only other child from her preschool is in the afternoon kindergarten class, not the morning group. There is also the issue of having been involved in two major auto accidents by the age of 5. I never thought of that, but her teacher said it warrants a further look. One of her friends also hit her on Friday of last week, a friend who does not have a very highly developed speech level yet and who probably hit in frustration, not being able to verbalize her feelings. This, however, really affected mi Princesita and in her relating this story it was possible to see how betrayed she felt. This has occurred with mi Princesita in the past, before she can really remember, with a couple of her other playmates, so I suppose it's possible she feels a bit traumatized.

Academics are not everything. I want a well-adjusted and happy child. I want her to enjoy her childhood. She loves school, so I don't believe that she is having serious problems in any aspect, social or otherwise. And I don't want to be "the pushy mom"...I want to be involved enough to be a part of my children's lives but not demanding how these lives should and will develop.

Do I make sense? It feels like such a thin line sometimes, that which separates "involved" and "pushy". I constantly pray for the guidance to do right by my children....

...and happily accept advice from Those Who Know and Understand!

Econ 101

Last night's dinner conversation revolved around the library books that K had checked out from the school library since beginning Kindergarten three weeks ago. Last week she brought home a wonderful book titled Pictures from Our Vacation, a Newberry Award winner. I was telling her how proud I was of her that she could read so many words, even some of the big words, all by herself.

We then got onto the topic of motels.

The family in the story stayed in a motel called the Shangri-La. The sign out front said it had a pool, which I am certain the children in the backseat were very excited to see, but they soon found out that there was no water in the pool.

This talk about a motel began our Econ 101 lesson for the evening.

-What's a motel?
-Well, it's a place you stay when you aren't camping but you aren't at home. We stayed in a motel in Oregon when we went back to visit 'Amma this summer.
-Oh, that wasn't a hotel? I thought that was a hotel.
-No, that was a motel. It was a nice motel but it was still a motel.
-Well, then, what's a hotel?
-Well, a hotel is where you go and a person is there to take you luggage to your room and there is food that you can order room service and it is all fancy-schmancy and everything.
-Oh, well, what happens if that person takes your things and doesn't bring them to your room?
-Oh, that person is paid to bring our things to our room, and usually we give them a tip, a little extra money, to make sure that our things get to our room safely. But I don't like to go to hotels because only rich people can afford to stay at hotels and I don't feel very comfortable around rich people.
-Yeah, we're not rich, are we?
-No, we're not rich.
Then K stopped, thought a moment, and said,
-Boy, Sheila is rich.
I looked at K and asked, -Why do you say that?
-Because they have all those toys.
-Oh.
-Yeah, I bet if we were rich we'd have a lot more toys than we do.

Instead of immediately jumping to the defensive as I would normally do, I simply let the issue lie with that basic economic observation. Personal choice versus economics--how could she possibly understand that I might not actually buy her all that her little heart desires even if I had the monetary resources to do so? I hope she might come to understand so as not to feel deprived. She has toys, she has books, and she has a fantastic imagination that permits her to discover fun inside or outside without necessarily having any toys with which to play. That was a parenting choice that I made, and every single parent makes different choices. The respect for the different choices is important, but my hope is that she can look back on her childhood and see riches of a different kind that she was given.

September in God's time

Today was the first of September. It felt like a September day. The sky was a brilliant blue, that which we only see as an autumn sky.

I spent the day in the garden--more God time. I am finding God in so many more places that God made and less so in places man-made in God's name. I'm not sure why that is, but as I have always been drawn to nature, perhaps that is where God is calling me to find him now.

This is a difficult issue for me as I have been raised Catholic and in a firm, church-going household. I believe in God. I love my God. I want my children to grow up with a respect and a love for God as well, and believe they should be educated so as to be able to make their decisions as to how they must individually pay respect to God in their lives. I try to teach them in my home the importance of God in our lives, and how we can be God-like in how we treat ourselves and how we treat others. I try to teach as well a respect for all life, even the lives of the bothersome crickets currently invading our home.

I used to believe that my rather antisystemic point of view stemmed from a fundamental insecurity in my beliefs; that indeed, God would strike me down if I didn't attend Mass each week. I have come to see that, contrary to the point of view of many, instead I am extremely secure in my faith and am willing to stretch my relationship with God and question instead of being a mere blind follower...

So I, in the past 10 months, have made some realizations and some decisions based on these realizations. One great realization is that I have always done what others believe I should do for their approbation. That is not necessarily what is correct for me to do, but I do. I want people to be proud of me and to see me as doing what they define to be as right, even if it does not feel right in my heart. Some of this has to do with my manner of practicing my faith. There are other subjects that fall under this idea as well. However, God is the theme for today.

And I enjoyed the first day of September fully today--and in God's time!

Language Latitudes

Okay...I've got a working name, and will hopefully have a website up. Business cards are in the works.

Language Latitudes
Proficient, accurate and innovative Spanish language instruction, tutoring and translation

How does that grab you? :)

*---------------------*

Last week in class a student insinuated that I am a b**ch since I am not canceling class the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Of course, my department very generously gives each student 2 free absences each term to use as they wish with no participation penalties for those days...one of which could be used the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. As I am documenting the case to the Dean of Students for disrespectful behavior and upsetting the classroom environment, I receive an email from her, hoping that I was not "offended" by her asking if I was canceling that class. Little does she know...

I would never have even thought of talking to a teacher, ANYONE who gives me a grade, in such a manner, especially to his/her face, and in the middle of class at that. I am astounded that student morals have declined so much that, not only they think they can speak however they wish to those in authority, but that they have right to request that the classes for which their parents are spending good money canceled at their beck and call. I realize she is in the minority...but the fact that this has occurred goes to show how much the mentality of so many young people has changed.

One more month...and then I am DONE with the University!!!

news fast

In the past few years I have begun the custom of taking "news fasts". They are becoming noticeably more and more prevalent in my life, not only as my children grow older and more inquisitive but also as my personal degree of stress rises with the horrific news items with which I daily find myself bombarded.

Today and this weekend has been no exception. As one who always has a radio on in the house, with music to accompany my every step, I decided on Sunday to turn off the radio altogether, as the remembrances of 9.11 began to flood the airwaves. This was a tragedy in our country, a wake-up call from the innocence and very sheltered existence in which most of us Americans lived--and perhaps continue to live--and it also brings me back to a very sad and shaky point in my personal life that I almost daily try to forget. However, when my 4-year old (going on 15, I might add) starts to ask questions like, "Mommy, what is terrorist?" or "What does bombing mean?" I know it is time to turn OFF the radio and turn ON the parenting.

The events of 9.11.01 and the subsequent occurrances have inundated and invaded our private homes since. Maybe we have no right to expect otherwise--we have, admittedly, lived in ignorance for so long while so many other world citizens have had to awaken and fall asleep under the reign of terror. Neither do we have the right to pity ourselves. Neither do we have the right to drop bombs on a country that has no tie to this attack, sacrifice our own citizens and those of other countries who stand as guards of our own while paid piddly wages, when it has been precisely in the name of vengeance of 9.11 that this war was initially waged.

The current government states that we who are not supporters of the war are thus not supporters of America, not supporters of the troops and are, in essence, consipirators with terrrorists calling for the demise of the American union. This is not true. I am shocked and astounded at the closed-mindedness with which this Administration has dealt with post-9.11 issues, both domestic and international, and often find myself having to defend myself as US citizen when abroad or speaking with those from other countries. Yet this is not a situation in which the answers are black-and-white. We need, therefore, to pray for the ability to listen to the wisdom of other countries and cultures, especially those who have had to deal daily with such terrorist issues; to pray for the open-mindedness of our leaders to accept, consider and apply such wisdom; to pray for the dissipation of arrogance amongst our leaders which leads to a closed-minded, narrowly-focused and often misbalanced approach to possible solutions; and to pray for the ability to listen and act in an educated manner.