Feelin' California

Why do we criticize people who don't know how to be alone? You know, those people who are always in serious, long term relationships, and we say "Oh, so-and-so, he/she doesn't know how to be alone?" So what. I don't know how to be together, but for some reason that's more acceptable. What's that all about?

So, I'm in California. I'm working at a local school district trying to create a mentor program that will begin in the Fall. So far, the work is interesting, but not quite as challenging as I'd hoped.

Yesterday, I saw the best principal I've ever seen since I was in elementary school (for those of you who know - my elementary school principal, Mr. V. is the reason I'm in education today). His name was - hilariously - David Silver. He was incredibly dynamic and you could see the love for him coming from the kids and his staff. Very inspirational.

A few hours later, I attended a school board meeting that got so heated the police had to be called. The district is in state recievership which means that the state government took over control due to low performance and is now assessing and closing/opening schools as it deems necessary. This has been a much debated situation by the local community. There were parents, students and teachers protesting the closing of schools in the district. At first, I was thinking this place was a total mess, but upon further reflection, I actually found it somewhat optimistic. I mean, I've been to school board meetings in Boston and Chicago where schools are serving children just as poorly, and you never saw anyone standing up and fighting for thier schools or thier teachers. You never heard anyone say that the teachers or schools were important to the community. Maybe it's a "you don't know what you've got till it's gone" thing, but it is almost amazing to me that people care about having local control. I just hope there is a way to give people the tools to channel this passion into something productive, rather than destructive. They spent a lot of time personally attacking the state administrator - which I honestly find less than useful.

But in any case, a hot place to work in education right now. I'm really looking forward to seeing whether I can make any meaningful impact in just 10 weeks. In any case, I've taken a selfish standpoint of really just trying to get what I want out of it, and if yesterday's board meeting is any indication, I won't be disappointed.

Journal

Here is an old attempt at poetry I found in the archives....

The only thing that lies between us
A promise
A hope
Unspoken
Now broken

There it is lying on the floor between us
Shards of shattered glass scattered on a white linoleum floor
Even after we sweep it up,
Checking our feet for small bits
Weeks later
We remember it and we are still afraid to walk across that floor barefoot

To feel the cool hard surface touching our skin
The chill that it sends through our spine and up to our lips
To feel
The only thing that lies between us

I can't see my reflection in the waters,
I can't speak the sounds that show no pain,
I can't hear the echo of my footsteps,
Or can't remember the sound of my own name.
- Dylan

People have been pressuring me to write something on this blog. And the truth is, sometimes, it’s so hard. I’m not a person that processes things right away. I tend to exist in the present, and don’t spend my time in the moment contemplating the meaning of things. And then I thought about it: why haven’t I written anything here? My immediate reaction is “nothing has happened” but that’s so untrue. Since the last time I did this, I’ve written here, people have come and gone out of my life, my whole world is colored differently. People I have now in my life didn’t even exist to me then and yet now they seem so important I wonder how that could be.

But that’s not exactly what Dylan was writing about when he wrote that lyric. I find his description of lost love here to be so perfect. Because some of us – most of us – know how it feels to let yourself be that close to a person – as if they become this major part not just of your life, but actually of who you are. And then one day, they’re gone. And really, this is how you feel. It’s like you were wearing a mask and then it suddenly falls off and the whole world can just see you now – with nothing to hide behind. And the silence (my personal interpretation of these lines is that he’s referring to silence) is deafening. Say what you will about mingling your identity with someone else in this way but to me that is actually the definition of what it means to be in love.

I recently become friends with someone who is going through this right now. And she told me that her psychiatrist told her she may have OCD – that she was compulsively reliant on this man for her identity, and prescribed her drugs. Think of that – the poor girl breaks up with her first love after 5 years and she tells a psychiatrist that she feels a part of her is missing and her psychiatrist tells her that is pathological. Love is pathological? Heartbreak is pathological? Is this what we’re doing to ourselves? Medicating all of our feelings? Are we a nation of people who feel ‘fine’ all the time? If this is the case, it certainly explains the creative void we’ve suffered in the past decade. I mean, Dylan certainly wasn’t afraid of his feelings.

Don’t get me wrong – I am not against psychiatric drugs. I know a lot of people who genuinely suffer from ADHD, Depression, Anxiety and their medication actually helps them. And I know that broken hearts don’t feel nice. If someone had come to me in one of those moments when I was physically suffering from the loss of another person and offered me a pill I would have taken it. Which is why I feel what my friend’s psychiatrist did was pretty irresponsible. You can’t tell someone that they have a psychological disorder during a time that they are suffering from the trauma of a major life change? Can you? Psychiatrist friends? All I know is this – there have been three times in my life that medical professionals have recommended I take psychiatric drugs and all three times I have failed to fill those prescriptions. And sometimes I regret that decision and sometimes I don’t. I think mainly I am afraid of what it would be like not to have my dark corners.

If I exorcise my devils, well my angels may leave too. When they leave they’re so hard to find. - Tom Waits

I mean, everyone who loves me knows that these things are part of my charm. I wouldn’t be me if I weren’t constantly (on some level) wracked with emotions that it seems I’m not supposed to have: guilt, jealously, sadness. Those feelings are what make me think – beyond memorizing economic theory and efficiency ratios (which an equally noble pursuit, in my opinion). And it’s that thinking that makes me write this blog, which is what everyone keeps begging me to do.

ON ANOTHER NOTE …

On Sunday afternoons, I usually clean and listen to NPR. Today it was “On the Media’ and of course the discussion was about the Virginia Tech shootings and criticism of NBC’s airing of the shooter’s video. This is what I don’t get. NBC is telling us they struggled with the decision to air the video, but in the end decided to do it, and they apologized to families and victims who may be offended by this. But the NPR commentary of that was that it was “all too tempting” to believe NBC made their decision based on ratings. I think the obvious answer is of course they made the decision based on ratings, but really who do we have to blame for that? I mean, after all, it’s US who determine the ratings. In fact, it’s the only thing we seem to have control over when it comes to the media. So, if you wanted to show NBC that you disapprove you have one option – don’t watch. And yet, apparently a lot of people watched and then complained about it, which I just don’t get.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should say I didn’t watch the video on NBC, youtube or anywhere else – I also didn’t read the killers’ writings or read the reports about his madness. I’m not saying this to cast judgment on people who watched it. The decision not for me was just a personal feeling that I genuinely had no desire to witness it. It’s sad, yes, but I don’t think knowing more about the killer will make me less sad. Any thoughts?

Resolution

According to my horoscope, 2007 will bring “romantic redemption from traumatic experiences of your past.”

Do tell.

What sort of redemption is this that the stars have in store for me? In general I believe that I – like most people – have brought these traumatic events on myself. My stars have something to say about that, too. “In love, Leos tend to be daring and take risks.” But what else is there? Settling for whatever comes along? Surely that is a recipe for disaster, although I’ve seen it work out for other people. I’ve never done that in any other facet of life, so why here? What is frustrating about love is – it’s not like other things, where once you figure out what you want, you just need to go out and get it. There are other players involved who – if unwilling or uninterested – could bring down the whole operation and we’re back at square one.

What is it about my nature that makes me believe that everything will always be fabulous or awful, in fact – what is it that makes me fear anything else? Do I always have to live my life at extremes, running from one drama to the other and throwing myself into upheaval and chaos every two years? Will I ever settle for routine – predictability, stability?

Strangely, this is what I crave in love. But will it ever come unless I structure my life in the same way? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

So there we have it. A resolution for 2007: to create a more stable life. Start thinking long term. Stay in one place. Wow. The thought of it actually scares me.

Let’s explore – what is scary about that? Doesn’t it sound like exactly what I have been saying I wanted for the past 6 months? But then, if a great opportunity comes along, I am afraid to find myself unable to take it because I am stuck in one place, or with one person.

Back to the matter at hand. Is it possible I am STILL not ready for some sort of serious relationship? I mean really, 28 years and you’d think a person would learn how to commit. Or are those “traumas” from my past still making me scared to depend on someone else? If I was in a ‘good’ relationship, and I sacrificed what I wanted for someone, who’s to say they would do the same for me? How does that work out in serious relationships anyway – how are such compromises reached? Lord knows I’ve never been able to quite manage it. My relationships tend to end as soon as I make a choice that doesn’t fit into someone else’s plans. It’s like how celebrity couples rarely work out. I think that’s why I’m always trying to get involved with people who are in the same life situation as me (school, work, etc.)

Maybe redemption will take the form of someone who makes me feel like I can rely on them in this way. Someone who grounds me. But then, maybe it’s time to be that for myself. Eh, it’s only a horoscope anyway.

Perspective

Sometimes this grad school thing is tough. All this discussion of derivatives and standard errors makes me forget why I ever came here.

And then, today, I read the following from the Department of Youth Services

"There are approximately 206,000 14-19 year old youth in the city of Chicago and approximately 104,00 of them are not currently enrolled in school or a job training program."

And then, perspective ...

See?! No Kelly Clarkson

I don't even know who half these people are, but this is some FUNNY SHIT ...

Third world cafe

So, there's this coffee shop near my house - Third World Cafe. Walking down the street, noting it for the first time, I made myself laugh out loud as I wondered:

What if when you go into that coffee house, it really is like the "third world"?

You walk in, the floors are dusty and dirty, there is only one chair with uneven legs in the corner and a used Coke bottle crate as a table. There is the undeniable smell of cooking oil and - is that urine? Couldn't be - there are definitely no toilets in here. Then again, it may be coming from the random chickens, goats, cats or dogs that are wandering around. The extensive menu is written on a chalk board on the wall but it's irrelevant because there's probably only one thing you can actually get (fried potatoes, cornmeal and boiled greens). The pop and beer is always warm. On the counter there is a box with a plastic front which displays pastries, sausages and egg sandwiches that have been rotting in there for God knows how long. When you order, the person behind the counter will probably be unresponsive due to:

A) Not understanding a word you say.
B) Being too drunk to respond.
C) Being entirely distracted by the color of your skin.


When you order, you have to pay with small bills or exact change, because there's no way they are going to have change for you. And better not even consider walking away with that bottle, mister. As soon as you're finished, they're gonna want it back.

Actually, the more I think about this, the more fantastic I think it is.

Today I actually ventured into the Third World Cafe, looking for a coffee alternative to Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts. A young girl with a tight fitting tshirt that said 'bling bling' took my order as Beyonce played in the background. Her friendly and helpful attitude as she asked precisely how I would like my coffee took me aback. What - you mean there's a choice? Local artists posted thier photographs of brown children in ragged clothing on the walls next to signs that boasted words such as "free trade" and "organic." From what I could see, the clientele were mainly white, intellectual pseudo-hippies who were taking a break from thier daily routine of bitching about Target and Walmart. But I just wasn't quite clear on what the purpose of this cafe was. Was it supposed to be some strange outlet for American guilt - so they can feel they are contributing to global development by going here instead of Starbucks across the street? Were we supposed to ACTUALLY discuss the "third world" here or were we just supposed to look at the photos on the walls, remark on the state of the world and sip on our lattes in luxury that the folks in those photographs could only dream of.

Am I thinking about this too much? I mean, they did have some nice coffee there, and a toasted cheese sandwich on multigrain bread that may entice me to return. Maybe I'll just get take out next time.