Theology from the lips of a 16 year old

From a seventeen year old, after having read "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God":

“I don’t know that much about religion I only been to church when I was young, but I know that all religions basically came from one.  All religions are similar in one way like, Jesus was born out of nowhere from Mary, and there was a woman in china who was impregnated by a dragon and a king was born which is weird.  We are ants in a pic-nick we are there but he has has the choice to get rid of us or just go along with it.”

Theologians around the world should rejoice.  We have deciphered the meaning of all religions.

*I copied all spelling, grammar, and punctuation verbatim from the writer.  Too good to change. 

My stomach hurts when people say they don't like to read

Something's been bothering me lately and it has to do with our society's attitude about reading.  Quite frankly, it sucks!  I'm sick of people acting like they don't need to read and that books aren't important.  Hit the road!

Today a student came bounding into my classroom, saw the copies of Hamlet that were lying on all of the students' desks and did the typical seventeen year old moan.  I acted like I didn't notice because I like to think if I ignore bad behavior it will go away.  But I heard him talking to his friend, "Seriously?  We're going to have to read this?  Why read when we can just watch the movie?"

That was where I could no longer sit idly by.  I snapped, "Mitch don't you dare let me hear you say that again.  You seriously just want to watch the movie for everything in life instead of ever having to go to the effort of reading the book?"

"Yes," he answered sincerely.

"Then you're lazy," I answered, just as sincerely.  Maybe a little meanly.  I was mad.

It's so hard to get students to understand why reading is so important.  They just straight up don't get it.  If something has more than 160 characters, forget about it, they're out.  For an assessment last week I wanted them to read a five page article about the rise of online cheating.  They acted like I was tearing their eyeballs out.  Oh, they all looked at the comic I had given them just fine, but reading five pages?  Oh Teacher how dare you torture us so?!?

This is nothing new.  My first year teaching I was appalled by how many students wouldn't read the assigned chapters.  I threatened them with quizzes, discussion points, tests that went on for days.  But to no avail.  Students would rather just take a lower than sit down and read a couple of chapters.

I hear it every year, "THIRTY PAGES?!?  You're assigning us thirty pages of reading?!?  But Teacher I hate to read!"  It breaks my heart. 

What do I even say to these hoodlums who so freely and unashamedly admit their hatred for books?
"You're missing out?"
"Too bad?"
"I know it's a hard concept for your peon brain to grasp right now but I promise you there is value in reading and you will be grateful for the fact that I made you sit here and read?"

I used to think it was just my students.  I accepted the fact that not all of my 17 years will be dying to engage in a rip roaring conversation about To Kill a Mockingbird.  I'm still coping with this knowledge, but overall I have accepted the fact that I teach minions of book-hating teenagers.

But then something really shook me.  Is this more than just lazy teenagers?  Is this an epidemic?

It happened at parent teacher conference.  A mom came in with her son in tote.  As we visited, she explained to me that her son didn't like reading.  I said I understood, it's a common problem.  Then she said, "What can he do to pass the class without having to read the books because you see, he just really doesn't like to read, and I can tell you right now he won't read any of the books you assign.  But he needs to pass."

My jaw hit the floor.  Pass without reading any of the books?  You want me to pass your son but not make him do any of the required reading for a reading class?  Would this woman have the audacity to ask for a passing grade in math without doing any math or a passing grade in Spanish without speaking a lick of Spanish?  Then how was it that she had the nerve to ask for her son's passing grade in a  reading class without requiring him to read? I was so upset with the mother I almost couldn't continue the conference.  Instead of pushing her son to reach the expectations that were put in front of him, she was lowering the expectation so he wouldn't have to strain too hard to get it.  Instead of saying, "I know it might not be your favorite thing, but reading has immense value and you need to sit down and just power through those chapters" she was saying, "Oh this isn't fun for you?  Okay, you can stop."  "Oh you don't like something that's hard?  Go ahead and quit then.  It's not important anyway."

Am I fighting a lost battle here?  This year I even cracked.  I told my students that if they weren't going to read the book, then to at least read the sparknotes.  As if sparknotes could capture any of the beautiful nuances of language, the richness of the imagery, or the vast complexity in the symbolism.  But still.  I had to do it, right?  Half of my class shows up to class not having read a single page.  I figure it's better they at least go on sparknotes and read a summary of the chapters instead of being completely in the dark.

But then am I sell out?  A fake?  Telling my students just to read summaries of the book if they don't have enough time to read the real thing.  What kind of an English teacher am I?

And then I wonder if I am just holding on to some old fashioned conservative idea.  The idea of reading books and being passionate about words and letting your imagination run wild and getting completely lost in a story about people who never existed and yet exist all around us.  Is this a lost art?  Does it have no value in our society anymore?

I look at my students and the hopped up world that they are apart of and I can't help but understand why they struggle to sit down and read.  Social media is so visual and so much about instant gratification.  Books, on the other hand, require focus and commitment and patience.   I wonder what Instagram is teaching us- that the picture is more important than the words?  I wonder what Twitter is teaching us- that if you can't say something in less than 160 characters, it's not worth saying at all?  And then I understand why my students don't have the attention to read two chapters a night.

So what say ye fellow bloggers?  Do you like to read?  How often do you read?  Does reading fiction still hold a place in our society?  Or am I just some old grandma trying to hold on to once was?  Trying too hard to push my old world onto the ever changing ways of the new world?

*Excerpts of this post were published on October 11, 2012.

Up to the date and a date to the up say what?

+The above picture serves only to remind me how much I love Harry Potter and dressing up for movie premieres.  A part of me died when all the Harry Potter books and movies have been released and I had no more Harry Potter madness to look forward to.  But what an era, huh?

+ Greg really hates pranks and I just absolutely adore them.  Before we married he made me promise I would never do any pranks on him.  I've really missed doing some good old fashioned pranks since I've been married but I told Greg one day we will have children and those children will be half me and full of spit fire and spunk and together we will prank you to our heart's delight.  He is speechless.  Who wouldn't be?

+ I am one hundred percent loving the new place that Greg and I live.  We have been lived two and a half years and this is the fourth place we've lived.  First we lived in a haunted apartment in a terrible neighborhood for 6 months, then a crappy teeny tiny apartment for 12 months and then my mom's basement for 12 months.  Now we live in a beautiful spacious apartment and freak, I'd say we've earned it!  All I want to do is clean it.  Is that weird or what?  It's just that the carpet makes such beautiful lines when I vacuum and it is so warm and clean and inviting.  I don't even want to go anywhere, I just want to chill in my apartment ALL. NIGHT. LONG.  Also I got some sick Halloween decorations.  Freak, with my own place all decked out and a puppy sleeping at my side I'd dare say I feel like a grown up!

+ I am also one hundred percent loving "No Sponsor October."  It's not really "No sponsor" as I had a paid post the first week of the month and will have three coming up in the next couple weeks.  But still, it has felt so good and so needed to cut back on the sponsored posts and giveaways and just focus on the writing.  I love when I think about my post each day I don't have to think about what is "scheduled" to go up, what commitment I have to fulfill, what I have promised someone I will do for the post that day.  Instead I can write whatever I want.  FREEDOM!!!  After this little "experiment" for October I will be cutting down on my sponsorship offers quite a bit, just don't quite know how yet.  Blogging is a constant balancing act, is it not?

+ I so appreciated your comments on yesterday's post.  The longer I live the more I realize that there are so many good people in the world.  Everywhere you go, everywhere you turn, people are good.

+ Some people are still bad.  Like the lady who hit into my car 2 months ago.  I didn't file a police report because I'm a moron and didn't know I was supposed to.  She acted real nice though and gave me her number and told me to get a quote for the damages and she'd pay it.  I got the quote- 1100 big ones.  Ouch.  Guess who hasn't been answering my phone calls or texts ever since I gave her the quote?  Ah, people.

+ In spite of the above mentioned incident, I maintain my belief that people are good.

+ Greg and I teach the class of ten year olds at my church.  They are hilarious.  I tell you what, these kids can give my high schoolers a run for their money on the crazy stuff that comes flying out of their mouths.

In a getting to know you game,
Question: "What is something you are looking forward to in your future?"
Answer: "Owning a gun"

Question: "What is your favorite thing to do?"
Answer: "Eat candy."

Question: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Answer:  "An astronaut or a professional basketball player" (because there are so many similarities)

Also, on Sunday one of the kids came into the class, sat down in his chair and looked around eagerly for everyone to pay attention to him.  He had gotten a new hair cut and looked very clean cut in his Sunday best.  He sat for a few minutes before anxiously interrupting, "Hey!  Does anyone notice anything different about me?!?"

+ That being said, my students aren't going to give up their rein as ridiculous quoters on my blog easily.  A couple of days ago we were talking about metaphors.  "An example, an example- I want an example people!"  Max raised his hand and with all the confidence in the world shouted, "It's when you ask does a bear poop in the woods?"  I laughed until I was blue in the face and then answered, "No, but your answer made my day."  Where does this stuff come from?

+ This dog stuff is harder than I thought.  I tried to take Maverick for a walk today and he couldn't figure out what the freak was going on with the leash.  I practically had to drag him and then when he did start to walk he was so close to my feet that I kept tripping all over him.  I guess I assumed that just came naturally for pups.  You're telling me I gotta teach a dog how to walk?  Come on!  Also we clipped his nails too short and one started bleeding which completely freaked me out.  Also he cries all night long.  Pup, it's night time!  The glorious time where nothing is expected of us but to lie for hours and hours in a bed.  Go to sleep!  Both Friday and Saturday night he slept "through the night" (I do realize how ridiculous I sound.  I know he's not a kid.  Or is he?) but then last night he was at it again, crying and whining every two hours.  Someone help me.  I have tried hard to keep him up at night but as soon as it's seven o'clock he wants to pass out.  His circadium rhythm is miserable off (the only thing I remember from 10th grade biology.)

+On Saturday I went to an AP Conference at East High School  Can you say High School Musical anyone?  I was pretty desperate to go to this conference even though missing out on 8 beautiful hours of a fall Saturday felt like a crime.  I learned a lot, but not as much as I wanted to and I suppose hard things are just hard.  I do feel confidence, though, in my ability to get these eight students to pass the test.  Lots of things he said we should be doing with our class I am already doing so that always makes someone feel good.

+ Saturday night Greg and I went with his parents to see Captain Phillips.  Amazing movie.  Tom Hanks is the freaking man.  His performance, especially the last ten minutes of the movie, is breathtaking.  We also saw Gravity this week which I only kind of liked.  Too much hype going in which was met with mostly lots of banging around and dizzying special effects and a plot that was just too slow.  Also there were only two characters in the whole show, and freak, I need more people than that in my life- even if it is just a movie.

+ Only two more days of school until fall break.  Teachers might be underpaid, but we are over vacationed, and I'm certainly never going to complain about that.  Any time I wonder if I should have entered a different field I remember that I teach 180 days a year.  BOO YAH!

My Teaching Philosophy

Three and a half years ago I graduated from college.  I couldn't wait to get a teaching job, take on the world, and make a difference in those young kids' lives. I interviewed like crazy.  I researched schools, applied for jobs, filled out resumes, showed up at schools unannounced telling them I wanted to teach there.  It was a weird time.

Several of the applications that I submitted asked me in some form or another to submit my teaching philosophy.  I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and so I did the thing I learned to do best in college- I B.S.ed it.  Let's see, My "teaching philosophy"?  Children are our future.  They are vessels and I must fill them with knowledge.  Teach them facts.  We have to keep them engaged by having high powered, extremely structured lessons.  These kids will some day be the president of the United States.  Less time watching TV and more time reading books.  I will get all kids to love reading or die trying.

Or something like that.  Pure B.S.

One interview I went to the principal asked me, "If there could be a sign above your door that had one word that encompassed everything you believe about teaching what would it be?"

"Uh...."   I drew a complete blank.  One word?  ONE WORD?

He stared at me in silence.

"Learn."  I finally said.

"Why?"

"Because kids need to learn."

The principal raised his eyebrows and stared at me a little longer as if probing for more information, but I sat mute in my chair.  He moved on to the next question.  I didn't get the job.

I have thought a lot about those two different questions since I have been teaching.  After 3+ years of teaching do I know my personal teaching philosophy?  Do I know what one word I base my entire teaching practice on?

No.  But I have a couple of ideas.

MY TEACHING PHILOSOPHY

1.  Teenagers only care if you care about them first.  This is the absolute most important part of teaching and there will be no real successes in the classroom until students know that their teacher genuinely loves and cares about them.  The difficulty of the curriculum you teach them, the poignancy of the works you read, the strategies you employ are all completely moot if they don't think you care.  As soon as they can feel that you care about them, the game is completely different.  They do their work, the discipline problems stop, they come to class not because they have to, but because they don't want to let you down.  I believe this, more than anything else, creates a successful classroom.

2.  Teenagers need a voice.  This could go a couple of ways.  For starters it means that kids need to feel comfortable speaking out in your class.  They have to feel safe to explore ideas or add to a discussion or say something they would never dare tell their parents, or even their friends.

Secondly, it means that kids need to know that you will listen to "their side".  A teacher can't be a dictator.  This year I had an experience where Mark was constantly causing problems.  I moved his seat about four times and he was still constantly talking, disrupting, yapping.  The last time I moved him he stood up, shouted out a curse word and then slammed into his desk.

"Mark.  Do you need to take a minute outside and calm down before you can come into class?"  I asked.

 "Yah, actually, I do!" And he stormed out of the classroom.  He didn't come back.

The next time in class I asked him if we could talk for a minute.  We went out in the hall and I said, "I could tell you were upset last class period- I'm not mad, I just want to know why you didn't come back to class."

Mark looked really taken back, like he had just been expecting me to chew him out.  "I just felt like it was unfair that you kept moving me."

"Why did you feel that was unfair?"

"Because the first two times you moved me it was Kade who was talking to me and then the next two times it was always the girl next to me who started it up, and I was the only one who got in trouble every time."

I thought about this for a second and realized I probably had been too harsh on him.  There always was someone else involved and that person had gotten off scott free.  "I'm sorry, Mark.  I didn't realize I was doing that, but I understand how frustrating that would be for you.  I like you and I'm glad you're in this class, it is just difficult for me to teach when there are constant side conversations going on and I probably took that out on you too much.  I will try to discipline more fairly from here on out if you promise me to do your best to stop chatting when I'm lecturing.  Fair enough?"  The look on Mark's face was one of total relief.  I wasn't mad at him, he had been able to speak his opinion, and he wasn't in trouble. His attitude since that chat has done a complete 180 and now he's the one yelling to the class when they get rowdy, "Guys!  Shut up!  Teacher needs to say something!"   To be on my side all he needed to know was that I was willing to listen to his side.

3.  Teenagers will do anything for you if they know you love them.  The problem with most teenagers is they feel like their teachers hate them.  We don't hate them.  We're just frustrated/tired/ornery and teenagers are teenagers.  They hand their stuff in late all the time, they think they should be talking when we're talking and their parents call in begging us to let them take a test that was due two months ago.  So we get frustrated.  I can't tell you how many students have told me, "That teacher hates me."  I know that's not true, we just might sometimes act like it.  I try to tell collectively and individually to my students how much I like them.  On their papers I often try to write something that has nothing to do with their actual writing, but just their personality, "You're funny!" or "I'm so glad you're in this class!" or "Third period wouldn't be the same without you."  When they head out the door I yell to them, "Have a good weekend, I love you guys, don't do anything stupiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!"  It always throws them back the first few times I tell them I love them, but they get used to is pretty quick and they'd never admit it, but goshdarnit I know they like it.

4.  Kids need to know they are smart.  Or nice. Or funny. Or witty. One of my students, Able (as talked about here) is like a walking encyclopedia.  He will one day win Jeopardy, I have no doubt.  The problem is he can be a tad annoying, he never knows exactly when to shut up, and he can't stay on one topic to save his life.  On a recent essay on Lord of the Flies he was supposed to write whether or not he agreed with the author's implication that man is naturally evil.  Instead Able started writing on Lord of the Flies and finished off with a deep explanation of Norse Mythology.   I gave him a C and wrote at the top of his paper, "Able, you are beyond brilliant but you MUST STAY ON TOPIC."  That was it.

At parent teacher conference last week, I met Able's mom.  "I just want to thank you for what you wrote on Able's paper?"  I searched my brain.  What did I write, what did I write, what did I write?

"That he needs to stay on topic?"  I asked.

"No- that he's beyond brilliant."  She was almost getting choked up about it.  "Able has had such a tough times this year and he has been so hard on himself.  It means so much to me and him that you would say he's brilliant."  It surprised me how much this comment had meant to them mainly because it was pretty obvious that Able was brilliant.  Everyone in the school knew it.  That was kind of Able's claim to fame.  He worked hard to be smart and to show that he was smart.  So why did me telling him that so obviously help him out?  It occurred to me that sometimes we just like to hear it.  My funny kids need me to tell them they are funny, my dependable kids need me to tell them they are dependable, my thoughtful students need me to tell them they are thoughtful.

5.  Mercy is stronger than Justice.  Probably the toughest calls I make in teaching have to deal with mercy vs. justice. (see this post and this post.)  Do I let the kid re do a plagiarized paper?  Do I let the girl hand in a two week late project without which she will fail?  I finally came to the conclusion last year that it is not my call to make on who deserves my mercy.  I will show mercy to all and let some higher power take care of the rest.  My first year of teaching Neil was at a 45% with one week left in the quarter.  There was no way he should have passed.  His mom wrote me an email that was just straight up begging. In order for him to pass the class I would have to let him hand in SEVERAL assignments that were weeks and months past their due date.  Against my better judgment, I told him he could.  I explained to him that I was doing him a huge favor and I would not be making such concessions ever again.  He and his mom thanked me profusely.  He got his grade up to a D-.

The next three quarters he had no problem passing my class.  He was pleasant and usually handed in his work.

He took my class his junior year and passed all four quarters.  He was a great student, constantly adding to the discussion and participating fully.  Anytime I passed out an "anonymous" survey I could make out his messy scribble, "This teacher helped me out so much.  Did me a huge favor.  My favorite teacher.  She will do anything to help you pass.  I owe her big time."

His senior year he took my class again.  He not only passed the class, he got As and Bs.  He asked if he could be my teacher aide during another period.  I said sure.  He brought me diet coke for no reason.  His mom wrote me one of the nicest letters of recommendations I have ever received.  She never stopped thanking me for showing mercy to him.  He is one of my all time favorite students.  Now he occasionally tweets me and updates me on his life.  I miss him like crazy and count this as one of my sweetest teaching experiences.

I know this isn't how it always works.  I know some kids take advantage, and some kids never learn to try, but like I said, that's not my job to decide who deserves it and who doesn't deserve it.  I was able to reach out to Neil and build a relationship with him because of mercy, not justice.

And the one word I would have hanging over my door that encompasses everything I believe about teaching?

Love.

And also "Teachers need to get paid more."  But then, that's not one word, is it?

And they called it puppy love.

We're 24 hours into our dog ownership and the good news is that all three of us are still alive.  Greg?  Check.  Bonnie?  Check.  Puppy?  Check!

ALL THREE!  ZERO CASUALTIES!

Everything has gone much better than expected.  I was worried we were going to get this sissy pants dog that was shaking in his boots all night long and crying cries to meet the heavens.  He ain't none of that.  He's tough.  It was like as soon as we set him down in our apartment he cocked his head, took a look around and said, "New pad, huh? Cool. Can I play now?"  and then ran off to lick/ chase/ jump/ bite/ tear apart anything in sight as puppies do.  It was like he had been waiting the entire span of his six week life to come live at our apartment.

To say we're falling in love would be an understatement.

I have had a lot of you who have asked how in the world Greg ever convinced me to get a dog.  When I met Greg I hated dogs.  This is thanks to serving my mission in Argentina- a land ridden with multitudes of disease infested, smelly, crippled dogs.  They have no homes, none of them are fixed, and they multiply and replenish in full view for all to see.  Litters and litters of puppies are born with no owners- they roam the street and scavenge for food.  They bite.  They smell.  They bark.  But most of all, they are mean.

This is why I made it clear to Greg when we got married that there would be no dogs.  He could have the woman now and he could have kids in due time, but dogs no.  Never.  It was a non negotiable. I couldn't even stand to pet a dog or have one sit in my lap.  They were filthy.  They were vile.  They would never be welcome in my home.

Then three things happened.

The first thing that happened is I watched Greg interact with dogs.  Anytime we visited a home with a dog Greg would play and cuddle and love the dog.  As strong as my dislike was for dogs, it was endearing to me to see the way Greg fawned over them.  To see a man be so tender and caring toward something just for the sake of being nice was eye opening to me.  There was no reason to love a dog other than the pure reason to love.  It was a show of kindness and tenderness so powerful I couldn't stop thinking about it.

That was thing number one.

Thing number two happened a  little more than a year ago when we moved into my mom's basement.  My mom, who had been living by herself, had recently found herself a companion and protector in the form of a six pound toy poodle.  We lived in the basement for a year and during our time there we got absurdly, wildly, madly attached to the pup, Buddy.  My attachment to Buddy especially surprised everyone- no one moreso than myself.  Slowly I was latching on to the dog.  I found myself taking time out of my day to take him for a walk or letting him cuddle next to me while I watched TV.  I don't know exactly why I fell so hard for Buddy, but the truth might be that I loved him simply because he loved me first.  Everytime I walked in to the door he jumped and wagged his tail mightily.  He would go bounding down the stairs and leap onto the couch.  He loved me so freaking much it almost scared me.  How could an animal have so much love to give?

In August we moved out.  I could not believe how much I missed Buddy.  When my mom told me that the night we moved out he sat next to the window looking for us to come back all night long I started crying.  Gosh, I loved that dog.  I found myself looking for excuses to visit my mom just so that I could see Buddy. One day I even went on a walk all by myself, almost as if I were pretending I had a dog to walk.  Crazy ideas started whirling around in my head, the craziest of crazies- could I actually want my own dog?

The third and final thing that happened was that a few weeks ago I read this blog post.  I cried all the way through it.  Essentially the post is about putting a dog down and how hard it was to say goodbye.  She talked about how the dog had been there with the family for all major life events, how he'd taken care of grandkids, cuddled the neighbors, spent countless Christmases with the family.  The entire time I was reading it I couldn't stop thinking about how dogs are born to give love- to just give and give and give love.

I wanted the love.

And so the search commenced.  There was some "discussion" over what kind of a dog to get, Greg stating that poodles were prissy and he wanted a more manly dog, and me saying the only kind of dog I would get is a poodle. (I am still way nervous about owning a dog- the only way I could handle it was to get a breed I have lived with and am familiar with.  I like to know what kind of a beast I am working with.)  I knew if I could find the perfect poodle that Greg could be convinced.

Yesterday as I was leaving school I saw the ad for an adorable dark red toy poodle.  I called Greg on my way out the door and by the time I was home 15 minutes later he had already excitedly looked up the poodle and was more than ready to commit  I called the lady to see if we could get the dog on Saturday, she said someone was coming Thursday, we said "Okay we'll come tonight."

And that was that.

Three hours later we were home with our very own mischievous little pup, and we couldn't love him any more.  He is full of energy and life and just when you think he couldn't be any more playful he cuddles right up next to you and falls asleep in your arms.  We've decided to name him Maverick because it fits so well his rambunctious little spit fire attitude. (Must be the red hair!  Why can't I resist a ginger?)

Ah geez, let the fun begin!

WE'VE LOST OUR MINDS... also known as AS WE GOT A PUPPY!

How it happened that I started this day puppy-less and ended this day puppy-ful is beyond me.  I am quite certain it has to do with my hopeless non-ability to say no to Greg when he wants something bad.

And he wanted a puppy bad.

For the longest time it's just been the two of us.  Me and Greg, Greg and me. Today he finally convinced me that it is getting boring with just the two of us.  And then there were three.

And now, adorable pictures.  Meet our puppy.

He's a poodle because it is absolutely the only type of dog I would agree to. Poodles are small, playful, and most importantly, they don't shed.  Oh, and their farts seem to be pretty mild which is always a plus when you are puppy shopping, believe you me!

This little guy is still nameless.  Tomorrow I'll give you all the deets on how in a matter of seconds Greg and I had gone and committed ourselves to years of endless responsibility with a dog.

We're crazy, is basically all you need to know.

What we did in class this week + what I wore

Dress: Downeast Outfitters (They are out of the all black, but I love this striped version.) 

Scarf:  London, yo! Shoes: Walmart. Lipstick: Red

My "What we did in class this week" posts tend to be my lowest viewed posts, and if I were a real smart blogger I would take that as a sign that ya'll don't love these posts as much as others and I would stop doing them.  I can almost hear you saying, "Geez, Bon, I already sat through high school English- for the love of everything good and holy in this world, don't make me do it again!"  And for a brief second there I thought about scrapping this blog series and instead just slapping up a picture of my feet in leaves, because we all know bloggers can't get enough of that shiz.

But I couldn't do that.  These "What we did in class" posts are my guilty pleasure and if nothing else I write these post solely for myself- because I love to teach and I love to write, and boy do I love to write about teaching.  So humor me, will you? (Also how boring does it make me if my guilty pleasure is writing about teaching?!?  Wow.)

SENIORS:  If I'm being totally honest with you, the seniors have been doing a whole lot of nothing lately.  The counselling department needed to take a whole day with them to make sure they're all on track for graduation and then we had two colleges come in to present to them the next two class days.  Then I had to go to another training which meant I left them with a sub and a worksheet and that's how we went four class periods without teaching any real content.  On a block schedule, that means two weeks.

Funniest moment:  Today I was explaining logos, (persuasion via logic) ethos, (persuasion via credibility) and pathos (persuasion via emotions) to my students and I told them that Greg complains I always win our arguments.  I told my students it is because I have great logos to which one kid yelled out, "Maybe it's just because you're always right!"  AMEN, brother, amen!  I asked him if he would like to come home with me and tell that to my husband and he said he would for ten bucks.

AP LITERATURE:  I'm still struggling trying to figure out a good balance with this class.  I feel like I'm not pushing them enough, and then in the same breath I feel like the class isn't too fun because it's all reading and test prep.  How do you make a class fun that is supposed to be incredibly rigorous and demanding?  I'm excited to go to my AP training on Saturday to really learn what/how I should be teaching the poor kiddos.

We are about a quarter of the way through Hamlet.  This is my first time teaching it so I'm struggling a bit finding fun activities to do with it, but the good thing is with AP students you don't need to put on a horse and pony show for them to read, understand, and enjoy the literature.  The text is enough.  Thank you, young geniuses.

I continue to struggle with the small class size as talked about here.  I did take the advice of Hannah and took them outside the past two class periods.  Heck, we were just reading Hamlet.  It's just as easy to read at a desk as it is outside on the lawn, right?  We sat in a circle, just the nine of us, and read Hamlet in the grass and it was very ethereal and a little bit emo and all the things that reading Hamlet should be.  It was a great change of pace and the students LOVED it.  The weather was 70 and beautiful like Utah is on a fall afternoon and one student asked me on our way back, "Why don't more teachers let us do this?"  That's a win, my friends.  I'm also trying to take Kimberly's suggestion to spend more time getting to know them and developing rapport.  Keep the suggestions coming!

JUNIORS:  I feel like my senior class is a circus with all the graduation and college info from the school and my AP class is a droll with me still trying to figure out my way.  But my one junior class?  That's where the teaching magic is.  This is my fourth time teaching the class (fifth if you count student teaching).  I know the material, I love the material, and a lot of my creative ideas are already in place, just need to be tweaked and added to.

Last week we finished The Crucible so to send it off all students accused someone of being a witch.  It could be a celebrity, a famous athlete, a brother, a teacher, ANYONE.  Then they had to persuade the class using logos, ethos and pathos why that person was a witch.  We put six witches "on trial" and "hung" four of them.  Each student had a role in the trials- some were prosecutors, others defenders, others jury members, while some represented the people being accused.  Oh, and of course we had a priest and a judge. (Because all trials have to have a Catholic priest present??? )  We used bananas to symbolize each person being accused and if the jury voted that they should hang we put the banana through the guillotine.  It was a hit!

Representing Miley Cyrus. ^^^

The priest costume is amazing.  The evil clown costume, terrifying. ^^

(All pictures are used with written permission from both parent and student.)

Cross examination. ^^

The students really took the court trials and ran with it.  I was so impressed with how smart the questions were that they came up with and how involved they got, especially for a first period class.  Mainly I was disappointed that the jury didn't find the U.S. government guilty of witchcraft since we all know that's obviously what's going on with the shut down.

Juniors, I love you forever.

Next up:  Hamlet for the seniors and The Scarlet Letter for the juniors.  Boom baby.

To be married

A few nights ago I couldn't find my toothbrush, but Greg's toothbrush was (for whatever odd reason) lying on the bedroom floor, so I picked it up and brushed my teeth with it.  No harm no foul, right?

And then it dawned on me.  What a weird thing. To live with a boy who is sometimes smelly and always nice, and then  find his toothbrush on the floor and just up and use it.  Shucks! This is what it is to be married?  To exchange knowing looks across a crowd full of people. To argue over what kind of dog to get.  To learn a new recipe because it's his favorite. To wait for him before you watch your favorite new episode on Hulu.  To stand up for him. To beg for a massage. To get so mad at him you could scream. To clean the whole house and buy decorations and wait for him to get home and notice. To wonder when you are going to have babies. To tell him to stop spending so much. To miss him when you haven't talked for eight hours. To laugh at an inside joke. To know exactly what his hand feels like in yours.  To yell at him to get into the other lane. To take a hot bath with him. To beg him to go to a wedding reception with you. To feel pride when he eats all the food you have cooked. To pray for his happiness. To watch Transformers with him even though you hate that movie.  To have a favorite restaurant together. To throw his clothes in the laundry. To ask him to pick up a diet coke for you on his way home.  To tell him to turn off the damn alarm.  To run your fingers through his hair. To plead with him not to get mad when you lose the keys. To make all big life decisions together. To put his name on all of your "emergency contact" forms. To feel his disappointment as your own. To laugh at his stupid jokes.  To feel safe when he is there. To swear at him when he beats you in tennis. To beg forgiveness when you hurt his feelings. To ask what he thinks of your new haircut. To record a basketball game on TV for him. To wear a dress because you know he likes the way it looks on you. To go to dinner with his parents. To know his smell. To follow him around the house arguing that you are right and he is wrong. To give him the hamburgers to throw on the grill. To know who his favorite actor is. To complain that he's hogging all the covers. To pick up his towel off the floor. To show him a new favorite song that you love. To plan your life around his and his around yours. To steal quarters out of his pants pocket. To get mad at him for being late. To make him late.  To pick up his favorite candy bar at the store. To spoon in the morning. To listen to him tell stories to your niece. To go for a run together. To tell him he's the most stubborn person you've ever met. To take his last name. To painfully create a budget together. To hope he doesn't notice when you buy a new pair of shoes. To sip from his soda at the movie theater. To give love. To receive love. To always be his number one priority.

This is what it is to be married.

Honest blogging

I was reading a post tonight written by my sister about whether or not bloggers are "happier than the rest of us."  I have a lot of conflicting feelings about blogging, but I do know that I want my blog to be honest, sincere, and vulnerable.  I want my blog to be uplifting.  I want people to be happier after having read my blog than they were before they came.  Anytime I think long and hard about blogging it comes back to that feeling that I want to be honest.  Honest honest honest.

And, so.  Some honesty.

1.  I like to be in control at all times.  I didn't realize this about myself until I was about 21 and my brother said I am a "my way or the highway" type of person.  I have tried to work on it, but I am still crazy stubborn.  For that reason (and many others) I am not the easiest person in the world to be married to.

2.  I am the opposite of a germ-a-phobe.  In fact, I kind of embrace germs.  I have this theory that the more you are exposed to germs the healthier your body will be, and that we're certainly not doing our bodies any favors by protecting them from every germ on the planet.  I eat candy if it's fallen on the floor and I brush my teeth with Greg's toothbrush and when I worked at Sizzler I ate french fries off of the plates I bussed.  I very rarely get sick.

3. I majored in English Education at BYU and graduated in 2010.  My classes were a mix of English type classes (Adolescent Literature, Creative Writing, etc.) and Teaching Classes (Classroom management, Teaching multi cultures.)  I loved the English ones, hated the teaching ones.  There is something cruelly ironic about a poorly taught class on how to be a good teacher.

4.  I am fiercely competitive.

5.  I don't like to go to bed early, and I don't like to wake up early.  The most difficult thing about teaching is that I have to wake up at 6:30.  I consistently stay up past 11:00 or 12:00 doing nothing at all important, I just like to be awake late.

6.  I always always always have my toenails painted.  Non painted toenails creep me out.

7.  I am one of eight children- four boys and four girls.  I am number seven out of the eight.  Six of my older siblings are married and my little sister is engaged.  I have sixteen nieces and nephews. November will mark four years since my dad passed away.

8.  The first time I ever went to the dentist I had eight cavities.  The next time I went I had ten cavities.  When I was in high school I had to get a root canal.  I soon wised up and just stopped going.  I haven't been for six years but my teeth don't hurt yet, so I assume I'm okay?

9.  My first kiss was when I was 18 years old.

10.  I have been married for two and a half years.  It is no small miracle that we survived the first year as we are insanely different, but I love the boy with everything in me and consider him to be one of the greatest gifts that God has ever given me.  He loves babies and puppies (neither of which I have given him yet)- a sure sign of his innate goodness.

11.  In June I turned 27 years old, but I have a baby face and don't look my age.  Because I teach in a high school setting I am often mistaken for a student.  It is flattering, but it does get a bit old.

12.  I believe in a God that is much more merciful and loving and kind than we can ever imagine.  There is so much I don't know about Him but I know that He loves His children, and for now that has to be enough.

13.  I was named after my mom's mom, Bonnie Turner.  She was a real spitfire with a specialty in making mayonnaise casseroles and giving advice about going on dates with boys you don't like (Just touch his leg for practice!).  She passed away while I was on my mission in Argentina and I cried for a day straight.

14.  I don't like fast food.

15.  When I was seventeen years old I stayed out until 4 am with friends.  The only thing I ate all night was a can of pringles.  At about 7 am I threw up the pringles and continued throwing up consistently every 30 minutes for the next 24 hours.  It was the sickest I have ever been and I have never eaten a pringle since.

16.  I discovered the trick to getting people to like you is to like them.  People don't care about you, they care if you care about them.  I try hard to ask people questions about their lives, their weekends, how are you, etc.  It goes a long way.

17.  Sometimes I am not so good at the above.  One of the things that drives me crazy about myself is how sassy I can be.  I get riled up easily and sometimes say mean things to people I love.  I am too opinionated.  I care too much about stuff that doesn't matter in the long run.  I'm working on it, but since when was it so difficult to be a kind human being?

18.  When I was in high school and college the best compliment I could receive is that someone thought I was funny.  I craved that more than being pretty, more than being smart, more than anything else.  Now my favorite compliment is that I am kind, but I don't get that too often which means I need to work on it.

19.  One of my absolute favorite things in this world is to kiss.

20.  I've felt kind of wonky emotional and strange the past few days so I apologize if this post feels all sort of whack.  Like you thought it was supposed to be funny and then it got deeply serious and then all of a sudden I was talking about how much I like to kiss?  The truth is I want you to know from the bottom of my heart how much I appreciate all you who read this blog.  I have made such great friendships and received so much love from this blog and even been able to help out my family financially.  I look at this blog as a huge huge blessing in my life and it wouldn't be possible if you didn't read it so I tell you thank you thank you thank you. I'm even kind of crying a little bit as I write this and sheesh Louise, woman, control your emotions!

But seriously.  Thank you.

Confessions of a shopaholic

Hi.  My name is Bonnie and I am a shopaholic.

I've been in denial for years now.

When I moved away to college I promised my parents, "I'll be smart with my money.  I won't buy anything I don't need."  And that was kind of true, because we all know a woman needs 37 pairs of shoes.

When I was on a mission in Argentina we got one day off a week from missionary service.  A day to write home, to buy groceries, to do whatever activity we wanted.  I dragged my companion with me to go shopping almost every time.  Argentine clothes!  They're so cheap and so wonderful!

When Greg married me I told him he had scored big time- "I'm not one of those girls that shops a lot.  Trust me, I won't spend all of our money on blouses and jeans like most girls."  It was a lie.  A bold faced lie.

In August I spent about $100 on clothes for back to school.  I mean, hey, teachers need to buy clothes for going back to school too, right?!  Last week, when the shopping itch overcame me again I tried to fight it.  Tried to fight it, and tried to fight it.  But, you see, there's this pair of shoes that I absolutely must have, and how does anyone live without her favorite shoes?

If there's one thing I know for certain it's that no one likes to be an addict alone... So maybe I can curb my shopping obsession by sharing it with you all?  Ah, it sounds like a brilliant idea!

I introduce you to Spiegel.

The idea is that they take celebrity styles and fashion and make is affordable for everyone.  High fashion with low prices.  Richard Lowe is Spiegel's celebrity designer and creative director.  He has designed for big names like Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep and Madonna.  Below I've given you a couple of things that are on my must-have list.  If I can't have them, maybe you can have them and you can feed my shopping addiction.  Parasitical shopping- it's genius!  I suppose it would still be possible for me to live a happy life without buying everything on my wish list, but the shoes?  OH THE SHOES!  Happiness depends on me owning those shoes!

THE SHOES!  Ballet style espadrille

Mariana Necklace and Earring set

Sleeveless Shift Dress

Solid Pencil Skirt

Jabot Blouse

Jenna Cardigan

And now, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for sharing in my shopping addiction.  Everything is better with a friend, right?

This post is sponsored by Spiegel.

My students.

(All pictures of students are used with written permission from student and parent.)

This weekend when we were in Cedar City my mom kept saying, “Tell me about your students, Bonnie. I think that’s the most fascinating thing about your blog is when you talk about your students.”

I was flattered because my mom is a staunch supporter of everything I do and also offended because according to my mom the most interesting thing about me is not about me at all but about the people I hang with on a daily basis.

The seventeen year olds.

So today I will tell you about my students.  Mama, this post is for you.

Mark has the most horrific handwriting.  He’s 18 years old and I can’t read his essays worth a crap- I can hardly even make out his name at the top.  Today after going over some notes from their most recent essay, I made all the students write down one thing they were going to work on to get a better grade on their next essay.  I wandered around the classroom a bit while they wrote and looked to see what improvements they planned to make. 

“Write more newt?”  I asked Mark after reading his scribbles.  “What in the world is that supposed to mean?”  

“Write more neat...” he replied sheepishly.

Able doesn't have a brain; he has a vault.  As soon as something enters it, it never leaves.  He’s a big kid- 6’2” and not at all lanky.  The kids gave him “Wikipedia” for a nickname because he knows millions of facts about anything and everything.  He sits in the back of the class with his laptop and literally looks up every subject I am talking about on wikipedia and spits off facts to me.  Talking about Sweden’s education system?  He’s got the facts right in front of him.  What made William Golding write The Lord of the Flies?  Able knows.  Where the word synecdoche derived from?  Just ask Able.  He is also wildly obsessed with Norse Mythology.  Every time he answers a question he somehow relates it back to Norse Mythology.  Last week the kids took a test on The Lord of the Flies.  He was supposed to analyze if he agreed with the book’s assertion that man is naturally evil and savage.  He wrote about Norse Mythology instead.

Allan is the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet- he would never dream of hurting anyone.  But he never stops talking.  Yap yap yap yap yap all day long it's yap.  I have to tell him four times a day to shut his trapper.  When he came in after school to make up a test I asked him sweetly, “Allan, why don’t you ever be quiet for me?”  He replied so honestly and sincerely, “Because Teacher.  I feel like I have so much to share with the world and so little time to share it in.”  Good enough, Allan.

Britany is always bubbly and happy.  On the first day of school she told us all with a smile that her leg had had to be amputated after it was infected with cancer and that is why she now has a prosthetic leg.  Some kid yelled, “Doesn’t that suck having a fake leg?”  and she replied with the hugest grin, “Nope!  Because it means I don’t have cancer anymore!”

Tim wrote me in his journals about his first kiss with Aubrey- another girl in the class.  He confessed he's still in love with her, and my heart broke for him to have to be in a 2nd period English class with his unrequited love.  He told me when he went in for that first kiss he noticed that her eyes were “recycle bin blue.” That is a phrase that will stick with me for the rest of my life.

Jason is my vocabulary master and every time I am struggling for a word at the board he shouts out the exact right word I was looking for.  “Do you mean manipulative?” he questions.  “Anarchy?”  “Apathetic?” “Self disciplined?”  I told him he needs to follow me around everywhere I go giving me the exact perfect word in the perfect moment.  He said he'd consider it.

And there’s more.  250 more, in fact.  It's crazy to me how unique and talented all these kids are-they are funny, smart, eccentric and loving.  So loving.  As the year goes on and I get to know them better I realize how much these kids are all carrying with them and I just can't help but have respect for everything they go through.  I teach some tough cookies, that's for sure.

All names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Or the not so innocent.

Let's start a revolution!

7 women and a 12 passenger van

Tomorrow I start no sponsor October which is a month of no sponsors and just writing for this bloggy blog.  Almost.  I have two sponsorship commitments that were already planned before the idea of No Sponsor October was birthed, so it's actually more like "Two Sponsor October."?  Or something.  Still though, it'll be days and days of just good old fashioned writing.  I am trying hard to maintain balance on this blog and to stay primarily a writing based blog.  Therefore, there will be more information about me than you could ever possibly dream of wanting in October.  Aren't you excited?!

(Oh, and if you want to be hanging out on the sidebar for October, it's $7 for a 200 x 200 ad.  Email me at thelifeofbon@gmail.com by the end of the day and we'll get you up there.)

This weekend I piled into a red, 12 passenger van and headed South to Cedar City with my mom and sisters. Well... my mom, two sisters, sister in law, aunt and cousin if you want to be all technical about it.  I know the big red van may seem a bit extreme for seven grown women, but Blackburn women don't do anything discreetly and the van seemed more than fitting.  It's my sister's van- she bought it because she has five kids, four of whom are rowdy, growing boys and a mini van just wasn't going to cut it for them.  They could have bought a suburban I suppose, but who wants a suburban when you can have a van?!?

I have a deep and abiding need to be in control of anything and everything (See: Reasons why it is hard to be married to me) so naturally I volunteered to drive, and drive I did!  I tell you, nothing makes you feel powerful like steering a big honking bright red vehicle.  Am I finally beginning to understand why men love trucks?

The best thing about girls' trips is girls' talking.  Men just don't love to talk the same way women do.  With men you gotta pry and push and do a lot of work to get any information whatsoever out of them.  With women all you gotta do is ask one half interesting question and you've got two hours worth of conversation at your feet.  Finding something to gab about for the three hour van ride was a freaking cake walk.

Oh- I forgot to mention why we were going to Cedar City.  Cedar City is renowned for the Utah Shakespeare Festival.  Every summer and fall they put on a bunch of shows and people come from all over the country to see the shows.  It's really a big deal!  Really!  The festival recruits their actors from all over the country- big cities like L.A. and New York and Chicago.  They only pick the best of the best and the plays are always amazing.  We went last year and this year we decided, hey, might as well make it a tradition!

Sidenote:  I always feel a little bad when I leave Greg for the weekend to fend for himself, but he always does juuuuuuuuust fine.  He eats fast food to his heart's delight, stays up until the wee hours of the morning, and plays unlimited amounts of video games with his friends.  So basically in all shapes and forms, he reverts back to 18 year old Greg.  And he LOVES it.

Once we got to Cedar City there wasn't a lot of time to spare, so we ditched our bags at the house and went right to dinner.  We were running oh so tight on time, but the hosts said we could be seated and out of here within an hour so stupidly, we banked on that.  Seven of us huddled around a four person table because there just wasn't time to wait for a bigger table.  We knew exactly what we were going to order the minute we sat down, fired off our pizza requests to the waiter, and waited not so patiently for the pizza to cook as we had only 20 minutes at this point to eat our pizza, pay the bill, and run.  It's the type of situation that gives Greg ulcers to the max, but it's always been the way my family does things so it felt just like home!

The waiter was quite slow with our pizzas and we didn't have time to be slow, so when he brought the last one out at 7:22 everybody grabbed a piece and ate it on the go.  My older sister, Becky, and I stayed behind to pay the bill and then Becky couldn't find her ticket to the show (it runs in the family) and somehow miracle of miracles we made it to the play just as the curtain was rising.  Close call!

We saw Peter and the Star Catcher which is possibly the best piece of theater I have ever seen and I have seen a ridiculous amount of theatre being married to an actor and all.  I even did a study abroad in London and saw a play every night, and I hold firm on "Peter" being absolutely one of the best.  If you are in the Utah area and you haven't seen this show yet, you have to go before the fall season ends.  The script was insanely clever- absolutely brilliant writing, the acting was spot on, and the villian "Black Stache", was about a hilarious a villian as I've ever seen.  I knew the end of the show was coming, but I kept hoping the play would go longer and longer and longer.  A sign of a good play, indeed!

We finished up the night with nutella pizza that we'd had to box up from dinner and a couple of rounds of cards. I won, naturally. My little engaged sister didn't get to play with us on account of she is taking 15 credits of hard sciences at BYU and therefore had a book at her side the entire weekend.  Oh, to be graduated from college!

Saturday morning we all slept in and then had lunch at a fantastic place that was secluded and quiet and we had the whole restaurant to ourselves at 11:30 on a Saturday.  What a dream!  We gabbed and laughed and scarfed down our food, and I didn't take any pictures of it because that it was trend I am having the hardest time hopping on to.  But I ate an asparagus and roasted red pepper quesadilla with feta cheese and it was divine.  Good enough?

We had an hour to kill before our Saturday matinee show so we wandered around the city's "Pumpkin days."  It was one of those absolute gorgeous fall afternoons that are just perfect in every way.  Seventy degrees with the sun shining and not a cloud in sight.  Is this what heaven feels like?

We found ourselves quite entertained with the "Redneck Photo Booth."  Who wouldn't be?  That's my mom and sister in law with me, everyone else had gotten lost/ distracted along the way.

The show Saturday was "The Marvelous Wonderettes" which was pretty good, but paled in comparison to Peter and the Star Catcher.  The cast consists of four women who are on stage the entire time.  As my sister commented during intermission, "I just generally don't think it's a good idea to write an entire play based on the annoying habits of women."  Here here, sis!

After that we hit the road (but not before loading up on gas and treats at the gas stations.  Tigers Blood Frazzle, you complete me!) and I was happy to get back to Greg who had even put a load of laundry in and vacuumed the carpet for my arrival.  What a guy!

Thanks, mama, for a great weekend!  Until next time!

I don't know what that 'until next time' is supposed to mean.  It just sounded like a good way to end this.  I'm lost for an ending basically.  So goodbye.

A weekend for the girls!

My mom and sisters.

I'm headed out this weekend to Cedar City to the Shakespearean Festival with my mom and sisters.  Girls weekend, BOO YAH!  I love men and all, but sometimes it is so great to just hang with the girls for the weekend.  We'll be gossiping and staying up late and eating junk food and all the things girls are supposed to do on girls' weekends.  Maybe there will even be a pillow fight in our underwear?  One can only hope!
(Grammar nerds: I have been debating in my head the past twenty minutes if "girls weekend" is possessive or not.  Do the girls own the weekend?  Or it is plural- just multiple girls on a weekend?  HELP!)

(Mindy, don't feel left out.  It won't be that awesome.)

FOR YOUR WEEKEND READING:
+ My life has been so much easier since I dropped the 50 minute commute.  Reading this post on what my commute was like makes me want to cry with happiness.
+ I can not believe I ever did this to our house.  LIME GREEN WALLS!
+ I had an absolute blast writing this post about tragedy at Wal-mart.  Reading this reminds me of how much fun writing can be.
+ The last time I was at the Shakespearean festival.  A dead battery may or may not have been involved.
+ This girl's blog cracks me up on the regular.  She is one of the absolute funniest.

The Green Eyed Monster: Revisited.

My family.

They make my life rich.

I feel like an apology is in order.

I'm not sure exactly who I am apologizing to.  To the vast internet audience or to my mom or maybe to God but I feel like I need to apologize to someone for being spoiled and whiny and ungrateful.  I've had the better part of five days to think about it and if I could unwrite Sunday's post I would but I can't, so this post will have to do.

On Sunday I wrote about jealousy.  I wrote that I was jealous of a friend who has recently bought a house and gone and gotten herself pregnant.  She is on her way to adulthood and steadiness and consistency and all the things you dream about.  What a life!   I was jealous that I don't yet own a home and haven't had kids and just generally don't feel like I'm in a place in my life to make those huge decisions that everyone else makes so easily.

That was my post I wrote on Sunday.

I was thinking about that post as I drove to work on Monday morning.  I was driving to school in my little toyota corolla that has not given me one problem since the day I bought it.  The car is paid off as of a year ago, thus I get to drive this bad boy every day free of charge.  It's reliable as they come.

I was thinking about that post as I went to the grocery store Tuesday afternoon and bought whatever I felt like.  The coconut almonds looked good so I picked them up, not thinking much that it was $3 down the drain.  It's only $3 and that ain't too hard to spare.  My grocery cart was full with food for the week.

I was thinking about that post when I checked my bank account on Wednesday and saw that I got paid.  I have a full time, steady job that pays me well enough to provide for all my basic needs and then some.  I never have to worry about going hungry or having a place to live or putting clothes on my back.

I was thinking about that post when I taught my class Thursday morning and we held witch trials for all the witches from The Crucible.  We dressed up and guillotined the accused witches and we laughed and the kids were creative and funny and I realized for the one millionth time how much I freaking love my job.

I was thinking about that post tonight when I cuddled up with my sick husband and realized how immensely grateful I am to have a companion to share this life with.

I was thinking about that post when I took a hot bath and realized I don't have to tote warm water, but have it right there for me whenever I want it.  I was thinking about that post when I called a friend that lives out of state but whom I can talk to whenever I want thanks to the modern conveniences of phones.  I was thinking about that post when the weather turned cold today and I put on a sweater and turned up the heat and didn't suffer hardly two minutes of discomfort.

Turns out I don't have much to be upset about.  I am abundantly blessed.  Rich, even.  I have everything I need in this life and then more and then more and then some more.  There's no house but who in the world said that every 27 year old should feel entitled to owning a home?

I have enough.
I am enough.
There will always be enough.

(P.S.  This article also helped shed some light and made me feel a bit sheepish.  It's okay to not have it all at a young age, it takes time and work and all that other good stuff to get a place of stability in your life.)

Bon's Book Club: The Glass Castle

BON'S BOOK CLUB
SEPTEMBER: THE GLASS CASTLE

2013 Book Club Schedule
February:  Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
March:  The Fault in our Stars by John Green
April:  The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
May:  Silver Linings Playbook by Matthew Quick
June:  Seriously... I'm Kidding by Ellen Degeneres
July:  The Help by Kathryn Stockett
August: Life of Pi by Yann Martel
September: Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
October:  Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
November: A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
December:  We Need to Talk about Kevin by Lionel Shriver'

Book time, ladies!  This month's book was The Glass Castle.  I absolutely tore through this book- I could not put it down.  The last few pages I tried to read as slowly as I could, savoring each page and wishing it didn't have to end.  I always know that's a great sign that I liked a book, if I get so sad the closer I get to finishing it.

The Glass Castle is a memoir written by Jeannette Wells about growing up with nomadic parents.  They move all over the place, they never have money, the kids sleep in cardboard boxes for beds.  The mom is an aspiring painter and the dad wanders from project to project- neither one of them hardly working or making money.  The kids are basically starving and are left to fend for themselves while the mom daydreams and the dad spends days at a time at a bar.

This is my second time reading The Glass Castle.  The first time I read it was in the summer of 2006.  I was 20 and living the carefree, wild life that summer. I must have been pretty dang distracted that summer if I couldn't remember more of the details of the book because it is an absolutely terrific book. Anytime anyone has mentioned The Glass Castle the past seven years I have chimed in, "Oh yah!  I read that!  It was great!" and then as soon as that person would want to engage in any sort of conversation about the book I was out- couldn't remember a darn thing.

This time around I reacted very strongly to the book.  Little Jeanette practically became a part of me.  I lived her and breathed her and it was like she was a real part of my life, calling me up every night to tell me all of the crazy shenanigans her family was up to.  I worried about her and stayed up at night thinking about her and wondered how in the world she was going to make it out alive.  

I was also much angrier with her parents reading it this second time.  I remember about a year after first reading The Glass Castle my sister said something along the lines of, "Oh, that's the book with the parents that abuse their children?" and I stood up for the parents.  I didn't think it was abuse at all.  "No, they just live a more carefree lifestyle.  They're not concerned about all that worldly stuff.  It's certainly unconventional, but I wouldn't call it abuse."  As I read it a second time I found myself totally contradicting my earlier thoughts.  I was infuriated by her parents.  I saw both parents as extremely selfish and in no condition to be raising children.

The scene I reacted to most strongly was one of the scenes with the grandma- Erma.  Mom and dad have gone back to Phoenix to pick up their things and while they are gone Erma tries to touch Brian inappropriately.  The other kids stand up for Brian and Lori gets in a fight with Erma, at which point Erma banishes them all to the basement.  For days the kids are by themselves downstairs with no food, no water, and no heat in the middle of winter. This is what Walls says when the parents come back weeks later to find the four children huddled in bed for warmth,

"Dad stomped down the stairs into the basement, furious at all of us, me for back-talking Erma and making wild accusations, and Lori even more for daring to strike her own grandmother, and Brian for being such a pussy and starting the whole thing.  I thought Dad would come around to our side once he'd heart what had happened, and I tried to explain.

"I don't care what happened!" he yelled.

"But we were just protecting ourselves," I said.

"Brian's a man, he can take it," he said. "I don't want to hear another word of this.  Do you hear 
me?" He was shaking his head, but wildly, almost as if he thought he could keep out the sound of my voice.  He wouldn't even look at me. 

Up until that point I could understand Jeannette's tenderness toward her dad- what little girl doesn't think her dad is a hero?- but that was where I drew the line.  I couldn't believe that the dad wouldn't stand up for his kids, defend his soon, take the children out of the house right that minute.  I could forgive to some extent his drunkenness and his constant unemploymentk and his allowing his kids to go hungry, but not this.

I was likewise upset with the mom.  Although her neglect seems to be a bit more subtle, she still drove me crazy.  The kids are so starving they are eating butter and sugar and when the kids find a two carat diamond under the house, the mom keeps it instead of selling it to give food to the kids.  Her reasoning: "It could improve my self-esteem.  And at times like these, self-esteem is even more vital than food."

What I loved about the parents, though, and Walls' interpretation of them, is that you could tell as she wrote about them that she still had so much love for them.  I loved the parents in one chapter and in the next I wanted to strangle them to death- just like people in real life, I guess.  They were incredibly flawed and frustrating, but also somewhat endearing.  I appreciated that Walls could write about what most of us would see as a terrible childhood without sounding bitter or resentful.  She describes it with love, even the truly horrific parts.

I would recommend this book to anyone in a heartbeat.  In fact, I am trying to get it approved by the school district to teach my seniors.  It is such an eye opening book and so well written.  I feel like there is so much to discuss too.  One of the questions I would love to ask my students is if they think the parents should lose custody of their children.  Is it better that the children go on in filth and starvation and be together or be split up and have essentials like food, warm water, winter coats, etc.  Should parents like these be punished in some way for their actions?  What gave the kids the ability to rise up from their surroundings?  I think I could get great discussion out of those 18 year olds with a book like this.  Now, if I can just get it approved!

Leave your thoughts in the comments below, or if you wrote a blog post, leave the link for the post!  If you want to write a post but don't know what to say, consider the questions in the paragraph above.  Should be lots to discuss there!