December 2011
8 posts
Behind the Curtain
Growing up, my favorite game show was Let’s Make a Deal. There was no skill involved; contestants would dress up in idiotic outfits and risk a known prize for an unknown one. For instance, they could choose the His and Her Laz-Z-Boy recliner set or trade them in for the mystery item behind a closed curtain. I used to get annoyed at people who played it safe, thinking that recliners in the hand...
Slightly Sour Grapes of Wrath
When confronted with the occupation space on forms, I find myself vacillating between “teacher” and “writer,” the first being the wonderful yet challenging job I have taken on while simultaneously fighting to maintain my identity as the second. Occasionally, these universes intersect.
Take the day before yesterday. I was helping students with their winter break assignment: to choose a pleasure...
Following Up
When the Pixar movie Up came out several years ago, it was on the heels of my mother’s death and my sister cautioned me not to watch it. “It’s too soon,” she said. “It will break your heart.” Up starts with adventurous Ellie and sweet, thoughtful Carl meeting, falling in love, marrying, and living a life of steadfast devotion. Then, Ellie dies. Widowed Carl sets off in his house, held aloft by a...
Wish
The second half of my life will be swift,
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,
fingers shifting through fine sands,
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.
There will be new dreams every night,
and the drapes will never be closed.
I will toss my string of keys into a deep
well and old letters...
Birthday Strategy
My birthday is Thursday. The custom at our school is to post birthdays on bulletin boards around campus. In theory, this is a lovely practice, but I find it excruciating. I wouldn’t care if people just stopped at wishing me a happy birthday, but the inevitable follow-up from middle school students is to ask how old I am. My used to tell them the truth, which would cause them to widen their eyes...
Go Ahead, Make My Day
I am terrible at retorts. Just ask anyone who has ever dissed me, or been present when I’ve been dissed. What generally happens is at first, I’m incredulous. Next, I try to figure out if I’ve actually been insulted or whether I’m just imagining it, or maybe I’m being too sensitive? By the time I figure out the insult is legitimate, so much time has elapsed that the window of opportunity for a...
Considering the Source
Over the weekend, I cut my hair and dyed it from faded auburn to dark brown, bordering on black. I was nervous about how my students would react. Adults are generally careful about expressing opinions that could potentially send one into a vortex of despair and self-loathing, but not so middle schoolers. This is when a thick skin, unlike mine, which is so thin that my underlying desperate need for...
The Sting of a Spelling Bee
Spelling bees mix tedium with terror, and in my experience, feature surprisingly calamitous intersections of fate. As a fifth grader, my daughter Eliza was an impressive speller. She was confident she would win her school bee, and after that, she her eye on the town bee. On the day of the school bee, Eliza, who was very short for her age, was placed alphabetically next to a decidedly rotund...