I, Weirdly, Sort Of

I, weirdly, sort of

hate poetry?

Ok, hate is a strong word.

I just don’t really enjoy poetry,

most of the time,

reading or writing

it.

I don’t know—

I do love form, and it’s very important to me.

And I think

my style

is certainly very aware of its syntactical form,

and

of how it sounds

out loud.

I’m such a narrative-driven person, and

I guess something about poetry sort of

distracts

from that, for me?

As though the form sort of overtakes

the emotional and narrative content of what’s being said.

It’s very aware of

its own artifice,

that it is art

and

not a story in the world.

I guess that’s just how I experience it.

I was an English major in college and I took

zero

classes in poetry alone

(erm, unless you count Shakespeare,

which I don’t

really)

and the weeks where I absolutely had to read poetry

(especially,

like,

book-length Victorian ones

because

yikes)

were not my favorites

Have you ever written poetry? The way you use words to describe feelings and moments in time, I think you'd be wonderful at it. :)

Aww, thank you, this is very sweet.

I, weirdly, sort of...hate poetry? Ok, hate is a strong word. I just don’t really enjoy poetry, most of the time, reading or writing it. I don’t know—I do love form, and it’s very important to me. And I think my style is certainly very aware of its syntactical form, and of how it sounds out loud. I’m such a narrative-driven person, and I guess something about poetry sort of...distracts from that, for me? As though the form sort of overtakes the emotional and narrative content of what’s being said. It’s very aware of its own artifice, that it is art and not a story in the world. I guess that’s just how I experience it. I was an English major in college and I took...zero classes in poetry alone (erm, unless you count Shakespeare, which I don’t really) and the weeks where I absolutely had to read poetry (especially, like, book-length Victorian ones because yikes) were not my favorites.

I love this song! The bass sounds amazing!

Excuse me?! I am going to need a full version of this shanty from these two IMMEDIATELY.

Gratitude Journal

My 1 year old nephew has hair: towhead blond wisps enough to make a fauxhawk when he’s fresh from the wash. For the first six months of his life he was sick. He was born with a cold, and just as he got over it, his whole family got whooping cough (turns out you need to update your vaccine on that one). He doesn’t have a voice box. Instead, he has the kind of squeaker toy you squeeze to make sound. Whenever he needs something, he points and squeaks. The rest of the time he is quiet and his sisters (3 and 5) make enough sound to fill two houses.

My nephew has a favorite toy which he knows is his. It’s an orange and white binky chain with his name on it. The binky chain is patterned after The Forbidden Toy (another binky chain belonging to a different nephew who is 8 months younger than he).

He can crawl and is not yet quite confident enough to walk. He knows (instinctively or through repeated denials) he is not to climb the stairs without an adult present.

This is why, on Thanksgiving last, when the food had been eaten and a sort of post-feast calmness filled the house, he climbed up only 3 stairs before backing down them again.

I laid on the floor next to the stairs watching him with half an eye and focusing mostly on that day’s book (Rhythm of War by Brandon Sanderson). His mom (my sister), sisters, and cousins played merrily in the basement. His dad (my brother-in-law) sat at the half-cleared table playing LIFE with various uncles, aunts, and cousins.

My nephew climbed 3 stairs and looks at me. He climbed down 3 stairs and looked at me.

I smiled at him and said, “Hello, Baby Lem!”

He grinned, too, and climbed 3 stairs and looked at me.

I repeated my greeting and went back to my book.

He climbed down three stairs and looked at me.

He waited only a few more repetitions fore me to understand what it was he wanted.

I dragged myself from the floor and used my finger as a bookmark. Then I joined him on the stairs where he giggle-squeaked and continued upward. 

Every two or three steps he would pause and look back to make sure I was following, before continuing upward.

The 2nd story landing looks out on the living and dining room where the game of LIFE was played. He pulled himself by the railing bars and looked down at his dad and squeaked, squeaked, squeaked, squeaked, squeaked. He had done it. He had climbed the stairs.

In that moment, at the height of my nephew’s victory squeaks to his dad, I realized I had understood. 

And for that, I am grateful.

Reblogging for future reference.

these guys were onto something i think

To give a different perspective: students in grade schools are given periodic breaks throughout the day where they can utilize the restrooms. Jr. High and High schoolers have classes which last 1 or 2 hours with a few minutes in between. Elementary schools have lunch, usually two recesses, and their teachers are often more lenient.

As a school teacher I am often faced with students who wish to get out of their work (as evidenced by the student who purposefully chose to throw up instead of taking time to learn) and I don't always know the difference between a student who does have a legitimate need and one who does not. A hall pass for a class can help alleviate this as students can figure out if they have a legitimate need during that class period or not.

I have also had students who have needed extra breaks or trips to the restroom. The guardians of these students have always let me know what to expect and I make sure to make the correct accommodations (usually also required by law).

It seems odd that a student who is feeling sick might not be allowed to go to the nurse's office, but again, I have had students who say they are sick at least weekly or every single day. Most of the time they just need some extra attention.

Also, the note above to be sent home seems really extreme. It could, however, be written for a very specific student and it is very possible that the information about this hall pass policy is found in the disclosure document sent home at the beginning of the year.

Not to mention the fact that Mrs. White isn’t qualified to teach. She should be required to take a remedial English course. “I have went”? please. It’s “I have gone”, Mrs. White. 

first, my kid would not sign anything without me seeing it first. 2nd, upon seeing it i would be at the superintendant’s office the next morning. then we would speak to the teacher. black folk gotta nip it in the bud.