Posts Tagged ‘mind’
I took an impromptu week off to collect my thoughts, as well as to regroup my enthusiasm for this blogging thing. I didn’t want to just go through the motions of pretending to have something to say when, in the past few weeks, I’ve been doing absolutely nothing.
For now, this nothing period is over. I’m back in the blogging game, and plan to have something to say every day. If nothing else, blog should help me keep my wits about me, and to stop my early onset feeblemindedness.
Another helpful exercise: I’ve moved to a new place. We call it The House.
Years ago, when I first entered college, The House was the place to be. Simply put: party central. Years, and pressure from the signatory renter, have since dulled its allure to the party-going crowd. If it weren’t for the few dirty living areas and a makeshift room created by drapes and a massive piece of particle board, you might not even guess that college kids live here. Until, of course, you look at the front lawn.
Every other house on our street has perfectly manicured, lushly green lawns. Ours has dirt, one big tree and a few sparse patches of crabgrass. Instead of kitchy lawn ornaments or colorfully seasonal banners from Longs Drugs to decorate our front yard, we have cigarette butts, one plastic camp chair and the remnants of fireworks from July 4, 2007. Instead of gleaming sports-utility vehicles and lovingly new minivans, we have four cars in varying degrees of crustyness: two in the driveway, one by the curb, one across the street.
Even on our street, lined on both sides with too many homes to count, it’d be pretty easily to pick out The House.
I’d fill you in on the details of the meeting that decided I was to redo — depending on how you view it, do in the first place — the TaskStream busywork, except a certain unnamed source specifically requested that I not quote him.
Not that I’m bound by his ultimatum, legally speaking. Any first-year law student could tell you that truth is an absolute defense against libel, the tort most commonly used in cases involving the written media. However, I’ll honor his request.
After explaining to the makeshift committee about my conviction that, for some reason, everyone involved with student teachers I’ve ever met excepting one has decried the “uselessness” — their word and mine — of credential programs, the committee was unconvinced.
I hadn’t taken that TaskStream stuff seriously. After all, all these credential programs lack merit, I quoted. Paraphrased, their response:
Not this one.
There was, admittedly, one quite convincing personal protest by he-who-shall-not-be-named-or-quoted, but I won’t name or quote him, even though it does him an unfair disservice. I’d much rather quote him, to be honest, and if he revokes this stipulation I shall do so willingly and without hesitation.
Suffice it to say that the committee wasn’t amused by my complete lack of regard for the documentation component of my student teaching semester. Expletives had been involved, and I hadn’t bothered to do more than what I thought was the absolute, bare-bones minimum. In effect, one observed:
What kind of teacher only shoots for a two out of four, for barely passing?
My mind flashed back to 15 pieces of flair, and the rot at the center of the maggot.
This meeting was last week.
As of 13 hours, 52 minutes ago, the first half of my student teaching project was officially redone. Mind-gaggingly painful, headache-inducing sadism. Only Russian has strong enough words to describe the pain of my self-imposed misery.
Screw this, he wrote in a moment of undirected anger and frustration. What’s the big deal with teaching, anyway? Why can’t I be a pilot, instead?
Yet I know I’m going to actually do the assignment this time, and do my God’s-honest best. Hell’s bells.