I admitted to my husband and best cheerleader this morning that I ma having a crisis. I am so fixated on running this half marathon at the beginning of May that I fear I may be causing myself physical and emotional harm. The physical harm is coming in pushing myself too hard every time I run. My hip starts to feel good and then I push myself too hard. Every time I get the chance to exercise, I’m running. But the problem is I’m now starting to have one step forward, two steps back. I overdid it last weekend on a 5 mile run and was in a lot of pain for a few days following. Some really good PT this past week got me to feeling really good yesterday so I wanted to do 4 miles (my PT told me not to do more than that) and started having pain at 2 miles, so I finished off with about 2.25 miles yesterday, thinking I would be okay. Well, I feel just as lousy today as I did last Sunday after my 5 miles. I am pushing myself too much and too hard and all I’m doing is hindering my healing. And I’m doing all this pushing because of this damned half marathon I’ve been wanting to do. I’ve got a million good reasons for wanting to do this particular race, but if I keep pushing myself the way I am, I’m never going to do it. So I’m done pushing myself. I’m going to run and ride the bike and walk on the treadmill and use the elliptical instead of run, and run, and run, and run. I’m going to keep using the exercises I learned in PT instead of only run, and run, and run, and run.
But that decision is scary, because I fear DESPERATELY losing progress I’ve made so far. What if I lose my taste for running? What if lose what fitness I’ve built up so far? If that happens AND I stop for a donut one day, I’m terrified that I will immediately fall back to my “fat” eating habits and boom, the 40 pounds I’ve lost so far will be back on in a flash. Because this has happened to me before. I feel like I need a goal to focus on to keep me motivated.
But as my husband reminded me this morning, the half in May and the half in September (the two I’ve seriously contemplated running) aren’t the only half marathons in the world. So while I don’t have to rule those races out, I certainly don’t have to do either one of them, either. There are plenty of races to be had.
So, fixation gone. Now, just focus on keeping healthy and active within reason, and as my hip improves, I can start to think about a race somewhere at some time. No more blinders on about half marathons in May.
I read, okay devoured, the Fifty Shades of Grey books when they came out. I loved them. I enjoyed reading them. They were fun to talk about with others who had read them. I loved the Twilight books so it wasn’t much of a leap to love the Fifty Shades books since they started out as Twilight fan fic. The books actually “inspired” a great family story/drama. My daughter, who was 18 and on her way to college, decided to read the first book. She’s not a big reader (much to my chagrin) but if she wanted to read this book, why would I care? I had a member of my extended family jump all over me about it, saying I was a bad mother for letting her read the book. My response was my daughter is 18 and out of high school and on her way to college; she is old enough to look at porn; she is old enough to make her own porn; why the hell would I stop her from reading this book, which has been billed over and over again as “mommy porn”? KMA.
Since that time, I have heard all sorts of crap from people about the books and now that the movie is out, the whole stupid pot is stirred again. So, for what it’s worth (not much at all), here are my thoughts on the whole Fifty Shades brouhaha:
Are the books bad writing? Who cares. I giggle at the people who pooh-pooh the books because the writing is bad. Why does every book a person reads have to be “good writing”?
Is it wussy porn? I guess so. I’m not a porn connoisseur. I don’t care. Isn’t porn a matter of personal taste, anyway? Some people like it, some people don’t. If you don’t like porn, don’t read the books or see the movie. If you like porn and it’s not your type, don’t read the books or see the movie. Seems pretty simple.
Abusive relationship, blah blah blah. Whatever happens between CONSENTING ADULTS IN THEIR BEDROOM really isn’t any of my business or yours. If Christian and Ana (or you or me or anyone else) likes the kind of sex that happens between them, why do you care? If it’s not happening to you, you shouldn’t have an opinion. And while we are on that topic……
I don’t care if the BDSM community thinks the books or movie is an affront to their lifestyle (if that’s what they call it, I’m not sure). The book was never meant to be a primer on BDSM. It’s not a reference book. It’s a work of fiction. Fiction is only based in reality. It doesn’t have to be actually real or factually accurate all the time. Fiction. get it? Please stop trying to enlighten me on the “real BDSM”.
Christian Grey is not some ideal man that all women are dreaming to find. He’s far from ideal. All the daddies out there worried that their baby girls are looking for Christian Grey can stop with the “letters to their daughters” about how their future husbands will be better men than Christian. BTW, Christian is a fictional character, so he doesn’t really exist. If your daughter is out looking for Christian, you’ve got a bigger issue to deal with.
I am not sinful or immoral because I read the books and saw the movie. My marriage is not in the early stages of decay because my husband watched the movie, too. If a married couple is going to see their marriage come undone because of some books and a movie that has sex in it, that marriage has bigger problems, too. I implore everyone once again to please stay out of my bedroom and the bedrooms of others. Please do not feel the need to save my soul from eternal damnation. Believe me, if I am destined for hell, that fate was sealed long before Fifty Shades came into my life.
I don’t care if you don’t want to read the books or see the movie. What I do care about is the people who get on their high horses and look down on me because I read the books and saw the movie. I know that not everyone likes this kind of book or film — I’m not judging you if it’s not in your wheel house. But I do get pissy when you act holier than thou because you didn’t deign to touch the story while I clearly slummed my way through it. (Cue Ana’s subconscious looking at me disapprovingly over her readers.)
I’d like to get back to discussing the books and movie with my friends who are fellow fans. I’d also like to get back to not discussing the books and movie with people who are not fans. Not once have I said someone is stupid, awful, immoral, or wrong for not having an interest in the books or movie. I wish people would stop saying that about me.
About a month ago I started having pain in my left hip when I would run. I started out thinking maybe I just hurt my back but when the pain didn’t abate and actually became much worse, I knew something more was happening. I saw a sports medicine doctor who told me that I had IT band tendonitis. I had read about IT problems and how common they are in runners, but I didn’t seem to have the hallmark symptom of pain shooting down the outside of my thigh to my knee. I started physical therapy, and have been in PT for three weeks and have seen marked improvement. I started out walking with a limp and having pain just touching my hip much less doing anything physical, but now I am getting my butt kicked by my PT for a good hour. I warm up with a half mile run on the treadmill then do various exercises, many of them using a resistance band. The first time my therapist foam rolled my hip, she told me it was going to hurt and that I would want to kick her. She was right. How can someone so small and cute cause so much pain???? But now I really welcome and enjoy the foam rolling. Last weekend, I ran two miles and told my therapist that my pain while running was around a 3, maybe 4. Today I ran two miles and my pain was at 1 and even 0 at times.
My therapist gave me exercises to do at home, which I have been doing because I was (and still am) serious about getting better. My therapist has also asked my doctor to order me three more weeks of PT, which I am really grateful for.
I have been very fearful for the past three weeks having my physical activity so severely limited. I have been really afraid of losing all the progress I’ve made. I’ve been afraid that I would lose my motivation and slip back into my sloth-like behavior. I’ve been scared that my weigh loss success would fizzle away because of my diminished activity. So far, my fears have been mostly unfounded. My weight loss has slowed but not stagnated. I’ve lost a little motivation, but my husband, who is my number one cheerleader, has been so encouraging, and with every success I have with running pain-free, I feel my motivation returning and I’m optimistic that I haven’t lost as much of my progress as I thought I did.
I have also learned the importance of incorporating strength/resistance training to my exercise regimen. I know that I have been getting better because I have been strengthening that IT band and everything else.
It sure is amazing what I have learned about myself along this running journey!
This past year saw some pretty powerful moments for me. Here are some of the things that stuck with me from 2014, in no particular order:
Strep. At the age of 47, I got strep for the very first time, and I would have like to have died. Eating, drinking, swallowing caused crazy pain. Even breathing was painful. I have said over and over again that I would rather have been in labor because at least you get a break from the pain every two minutes. I got strep in March and again in September. Every time I get a sore throat, I live in fear of what I might see appear on my tonsils.
Cruising. I was lucky enough to take three cruises this year — one in March with my mom; one in June with Jim, my dad, and Brenda; and one just last week with Jim, Becky, my dad, Brenda, Joe, Lucy, and Ethan.I gotta say — I love being on a cruise. I can’t wait to do one that is longer than five days.
December Cruise
Me and Jim, June cruise
Curriclulet. I started a part time job writing curriculum for a company called Curriculet. They offer online texts that contain embedded questions and annotations that are aligned to the Common Core. I LOVE this job. I am getting paid to read books and write curriculum — my favorite past time and one of the things I really love about education. My dream would be to keep doing this job for years and years until I retire from teaching; then writing for Curriculet can be my new job!
Weight Watchers. Jim and I decided in August that we were tired of being fatsos, so we re-committed ourselves to Weight Watchers. Since the middle of August, I have lost 34 pounds and I feel great. I love the fact that I am in control of my eating because I have a really crappy relationship with food. I also love how losing weight has helped my improve my running and that my running is helping me lose weight.
Madison. Once again, my world was rocked this past spring when one of my favorite former students, Madison Angus, was killed in a car accident. She was only a matter of days graduated from high school when she lost control of her car, went down an embankment, and was thrown from her vehicle. If you didn’t know her, then I could try to tell you about her but words don’t describe Madison very adequately. When I learned what happened to her, I noticed that the world was a little less beautiful and a little less bright. She was one of the few truly kind-hearted humans in this world. I think of her every day, along with Mitch Fajman and Allison Rivera, classmates of Becky’s who died when they were seniors in high school. That’s all I have to say about that.
Madison in junior high when I was her track coach
Cayden. My friend Liz had a baby boy this fall. She was told it was a girl at first but a later ultrasound said boy. Either way, it was exciting! He’s as cute as can be and Liz is so nice — she lets me hold him and snuggle him! That little cutie has made me think that maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad to be a grandma someday in the future — no need for it to happen too soon! I’ll get my baby fix with Cayden!
Becky. Every year that goes by brings me a year closer to my daughter being a full-fledged adult. This past summer, she stayed at school and took a summer class and worked instead of coming home. This was also the first summer I’ve spent alone in 20 years. It sucked. She also had an amazing internship with a Democratic candidate for Congress in the fall. She worked so hard at it; I was bursting with pride at her work! She also spearheaded a fundraiser with her sorority that raised $11,000 for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. My kid! At age 19! Blows my mind. She had some downs, too. In fact, she’s got a big change coming up in January that I am hoping will eliminate some of the crap happening in her life. And I’ll admit that her boyfriend Josh is such a good guy; I feel good knowing Becky is with him. He treats her with respect and with care, and he makes her laugh. Speaking of Josh brings me to my next point:
Biloxi. I took two road trips to Biloxi, Mississippi in two weeks so Becky could visit Josh while he was doing his tech school at Keesler Air Force Base. I went once with Robyn, Michael, and Alyssa, and once with my mom. I really liked the trip with Robyn because I got to spend some quality time with Michael and Alyssa; I feel like to got to develop a great relationship with them! I actually really enjoyed Biloxi. I’d love to take Jim there. Great beach town with some terrific bars and restaurants!
My favorite picture from Biloxi trip #1
Ron. Right at the start of the school year, I learned my friend and former colleague Ron Moir died. He wasn’t much older than I was. It was sudden and unexpected. He was a guy that was always a way better friend to me than I was to him. Sadly, I took him for granted and now he’s gone. He was one of the most alive people I knew. He told such great stories and had a great smile. His passing made me feel my mortality big time. Damn, I miss him.
Ron dressed as Little Bo Peep for a fundraiser my students sponsored. For $1000, he dressed this way for a whole day at Channahon Jr, High, and because of it, Room to Read built a library at a school in Nepal. His influence is truly global.
One of my favorite pictures of Ron
Next year is 2015 and I’m looking forward to a few things. I plan to keep running with the goal to maybe, hopefully, possibly run a half marathon in September. I’m going to keep plugging away on Weight Watchers, maybe even hit my goal weight. I’ve got some exciting things to look forward to in my job. In fact, I think I am less than ten years away from retirement. Crazy to think of that. My daughter starts her last year of college in 2015. You know what, I’m not going to think about that.
It’s that time of year again, the time to start seeing angry posts from people complaining about how the phrase “Merry Christmas” has been banned from use in our society. The posts usually consist of memes bemoaning the fact that we are ignoring the “Christ” in “Christmas” or making some comment about how vile political correctness is or attempting some stretch that Islam is valued more than Christianity in this country — all of these are reasons why nobody is allowed to say “Merry Christmas” anymore.
Gimme a break.
Has it ever occurred to anyone that the phrase “Happy Holidays” has nothing to do with Islam, political correctness, or being a lousy American? The day after Thanksgiving — Black Friday — is the traditional day where people being their gift shopping in earnest. The greeting “Happy Holidays” will start being used pretty commonly starting that day all the way through the start of the new year. “Happy Holidays” encompasses all the holidays many people associate with that time period — Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. “Happy Holidays” also encompasses the holidays of Kwanzaa and Hanukkah which also fall within that time frame. “Happy Holidays” also includes greeting politely those people who, for whatever reason, do not celebrate Christmas. Saying “Happy Holidays” is a phrase that is inclusive of all people, not just Christians who are celebrating Christmas. Christians don’t have the corner on the market of holidays in December; it’s presumptuous to assume all people celebrate Christmas. So when someone wishes you “Happy Holidays” try replying with something equally as kind, like, “Thank you! Same to you!” ‘Tis the season, after all.
Today I had the opportunity to do something that I would normally not have the chance to do. I spent my day at Channahon Junior High listening to veterans speak about their military experiences and answer questions from students. It was one of the most powerful days I’ve ever had.
I was proud as a peacock this morning when I arrived at the junior high accompanying my uncle Stanley who served two tours in Vietnam. I learned a lot about my uncle today. For instance, I learned that he was at Hamburger Hill. I remember watching that movie for a class I took in college (Vietnam in Film and Literature — probably the best class I ever had). I was surprised to learn that someone I know and love would have first-hand knowledge as to the authenticity of that film. He. Was. There. Suddenly, that movie became more than a movie.
The kids spent time preparing questions in the class periods before today. One of the questions that came up had to do with the way Vietnam vets were received when they returned home compared to the way vets are received now upon their return home. One thing that struck me was how apparent it was that the Iraqi war vets felt angered that such an injustice was paid to their fellow veterans. It was written on their faces and loud and clear in their voices. They could not express enough how utterly wrong it was that servicemen returning home from Vietnam were treated so deplorably. Then my uncle told a story. He said that four years ago on a family trip to Minnesota, he was stopped by someone who saw the hat he was wearing — his 101st Airborne Screaming Eagles baseball cap. The person shook my uncle’s hand and told him thank you for his service. My uncle Stan said that was the first time anyone had ever thanked him. My heart fell to the floor. Four years ago was 2010. He left Vietnam in 1970. That’s 40 years. In 40 years, no one had ever shook his hand and acknowledged the sacrifices he made in his service and sense of duty to this country. I was speechless. Now that I think of it, I’ve never thanked him for his service. So I will do it now and I will do it the next time I see him. That being said, I got choked up seeing the students come up to my uncle and all the other visiting veterans after each class and shake their hands and say, “Thank you.” I could see on every one of their faces how much that small gesture means to them.
One of the visiting vets, a Marine, told a story about being in Iraq for their first democratic elections. The roads were closed for security and he was on patrol when he saw a man coming up the road pushing a shopping cart. In the cart was the man’s father who said that he was old and didn’t expect to live much longer but he wanted the opportunity to vote like a free man. So his son did the only thing he could do. He brought his father to vote. They couldn’t come in a car and they lived far away. He pushed his elderly father in a cart for miles and miles and miles for the opportunity to cast his vote. Again, this story made my heart stop. I shook my head and marveled at the lengths to which these men went to cast their vote, and I also marveled at how easy it is for people in this country to skip voting because they don’t like the weather or they’re too busy or they just don’t want to go vote. My God. We need to see our ability to vote like that old Iraqi man. We should be willing to walk miles to do it, or ride in a shopping cart the whole way if that’s what it takes.
Lunch was catered in for the visiting vets as well as the staff. As I was eating my lunch, I looked around and saw all these representatives of the military talking with the teachers over lunch, and I thought how incredibly fortunate we were to have a private audience with these brave and dedicated men and woman (we had only one female vet today). We got to sit elbow to elbow with these heroes and hear their stories. It was magical. I’m not being overly dramatic — it truly was.
As we come up on Veterans’ Day, let me say from the bottom of my heart — thank you to all those who have served our country, and thank you to those who are doing it right now. I can never find words enough to express my gratitude. Please keep sharing your stories because I feel like I am a better citizen because of what you teach me.
So I just saw this article on “skinny shaming“. As a plus-sized woman, I suppose I should agree with the spirit of the article. I know how it feels to be made fun of because of appearance or body size or body shape. I know it is absolutely wrong to judge somebody based on only what the eyes can see. But when someone gets all bent out of shape because some skinny girl is being picked on, I just have a hard time mustering up any sympathy.
For decades, the skinny girls have been considered pretty just because they are skinny. It’s nearly impossible to be pretty and fat. The skinny girls don’t get looks of disgust when out in public, especially at a restaurant. They get looks of approval and envy. The skinny girls don’t get insulting comments about breaking furniture or how much they eat. Nobody says things like, “Save a whale; harpoon a skinny chick.” Nobody has a bumper sticker on the back of their car that says, “No skinny chicks.” The insults to overweight women are plentiful, and the insults to skinny women have only recently begun as the fat chicks are sick of being told they are inferior. The fat chicks are tired of telling the skinny chicks that they’re not fat when they whine about eating a whole half a sandwich. The fat chicks are tired of making the skinny chicks feel good about themselves while nobody bothered to make the fat girls feel good about themselves. The fat chicks are in revolt and lashing out from years of marginalization.
I don’t care if the skinny girls have their feelings hurt right now. I’ll care later. I’m still too busy trying to convince myself that it’s okay to feel good about myself despite being overweight to convince the ones who are socially acceptable that their struggle is equal to mine.
I’m sure that makes me one horrible human and a really crappy woman. Add that to the list of other faults I have related to being fat.
I believe in gay marriage and gay rights. I think people who are gay have not made a choice to be gay. I don’t think there is any valid religious argument against homosexuality. Gay rights are civil rights. And while on the topic, yes, there need to be laws in place to enforce said civil rights. Anyone who says that discrimination doesn’t exist based on age, gender, skin color, sexual orientation, religion, ability, or ethnicity is a damn fool. Until there can be some sort of blind hiring or application process or we can make the human race prejudice-free, there’s gonna have to be some backup provided for those who need it.
I have no problem with concealed carry laws. I don’t think there will be an appreciable rise in gun crime because of it. The people who commit crimes with guns don’t care about following gun laws. In fact, I think most gun control laws are fluff.
I am sickened by abuse of systems that are designed to help people who really need the assistance. There are people who are using food stamps to buy party supplies and people who actually like collecting unemployment because they are lazy jackasses. Those kinds of people, the ones who abuse the system, piss me off. But I also know there are people who really need the assistance out there, so I’d prefer to err on the side of mercy (or stupidity, if you prefer to call me that) and give to all instead of give to no one.
I don’t think people should be entering this country illegally. If they get caught, they should get deported. I know they are often coming from much worse places than they find here, but back you go. But the kids that are coming here illegally, that’s a messier situation to deal with. Letting them all stay probably isn’t the answer, but then deporting them all back probably isn’t, either. I don’t know the answer for that one. But one thing I must say is that I don’t want to hear arguments about how illegal aliens take jobs away from Americans. I find that hard to believe. It’s not like we have mass amounts of college educated people overrunning our borders to get those sweet IT jobs or mid-level management positions. They are unskilled laborers working at low-paying, physically challenging jobs that Americans don’t want. When was the last time you saw someone with a marketing degree who lost his job due to corporate downsizing work as a busboy at your local pancake house because that was the only job he could get until he found one in his field?
Medical care in this country is a joke. I know people who have serious medical issues that need to be dealt with but they simply can’t afford them even with their mandated insurance. They can’t afford the co-pays, they can’t afford the cost of procedures even after insurance, they can’t afford the time off of work. So they suffer and get sicker. That is messed up. Obamacare in theory sure sounded like a good idea, and I personally know some people who have benefitted from Obamacare. But the system was broke, Obamacare attempted to fix it, and it’s still broke. Nobody, and I mean nobody, rich white CEOs and homeless heroin addicts included, should have to go without medical care in this country. Sad thing is, the rich, white CEOs and the homeless heroin addicts get all the medical care they want. They’re rich enough and poor enough. It’s the people stuck in the middle who are getting screwed; THEY’RE the ones who really need to get their damn medical care without having to wonder if they’re worthy.
I would call myself pro-life and pro-choice. I’ve never been faced with having to decide if I should terminate a pregnancy or carry it to term, but I’ve got the feeling having an abortion would be a tough sell for me. But that is a choice I make for myself and I won’t put that on anyone else. Every woman has a different body and different circumstances surrounding how she got pregnant and what her life would be like after having the baby. I prefer letting women make the choices for themselves. However, if I could have things my way, I’d say unless there are significantly extenuating circumstances, there would be no abortions allowed after the first trimester. I would also provide free birth control to men and women, including to teenagers without their parents’ consent, and I’d make sex education in this country comprehensive. Goodbye, abstinence-only “education”.
I don’t think I’m pro-death penalty. It seems barbaric somehow. We can’t seem to find a good way to kill people efficiently. It is also not even close to a deterrent for crime. So I say no death penalty. But I might like the idea proposed by someone close to me — virtual death. Commit a death-penalty-worthy crime, finish your appeals process, then when it’s done and you’re still on death row, you’ve got 30 days to get your final affairs in order, say goodbye to your loved ones, and then you are locked away and not allowed contact with the outside world. No television, no radio, no internet, no phone calls in or out, no letters in or out. In fact, at the end of the 30 days preparation time, your family will receive your death certificate. You’ll have clothes to wear, eat good food, have books to read, be able to go to class, all sorts of nice things. You won’t be thrown in solitary for the rest of your life and given bread and water. This, to me, sounds like a helluva punishment. It’s not so great to live when the world thinks you’re dead.
I’d love to see this country either annihilate the Middle East or just stay the hell away and let them all kill themselves and each other. We keep trying to make democracy happen in countries that are theocracies and have no interest in equality in any way, shape or form.
I’m not sure that those who are wealthy really need to pay more taxes. What I DO think is that the loopholes that exist that allow those who are wealthy to evade paying their fair share of taxes or hide their money need to be closed. I’m fine with the, “I earned the money to buy this ball and it’s MY ball and I don’t have to share it with you,” mentality (because that’s oftentimes the attitude of those who are wealthy, usually presented with close to the same amount of maturity, just short of sticking out a tongue). Let the wealthy buy their ball and not share it with anyone. But if you’re wealthy enough, maybe consider finding some organization that buys balls for people who really need their own and donate to them so other people don’t try to play with yours. If the wealthy don’t want to rest of us thinking of them as petty and greedy, stop looking that way.
I kind of like Bill O’Reilly. He makes sense a lot of times, and he’s a smart man. I can’t stand Ann Coulter.
I have always considered myself a moderate or agnostic when it comes to politics. I have never, ever voted a straight ticket and don’t ever plan to do so. I’ve never labeled myself a Democrat or Republican or anything else. I’m just a voter. But in the past decade or so, it seems that’s not allowed. You have to be one or the other. I know I tend to lean liberal, especially on social issues, but I tend to get pretty pissy when the government tries to butt into everything. Government involvement rarely does anything but make bigger messes. I hate that I can’t just be; I have to be something. Because I tend to lean liberal, it is assumed I am radically liberal because moderation simply can’t exist anymore. I’m not a liberal. I’m not a conservative.
I was very conflicted during the last Presidential election. I had voted for Obama before and, dissatisfied with what I was seeing, wasn’t sure where my vote needed to go when he ran for re-election. So I worked hard to learn. I watched every debate. I even took notes and developed a system to see which candidate I seemed to side with more (Jim said I really “nerded up” the debates). I read the Republican, Democratic, Libertarian, and Green Parties platforms and took notes. I followed the Democratic and Republican parties on Twitter as well as Fox News and Daily Kos (much like on my education Twitter account I follow Michelle Rhee and Diane Ravitch). I filled my brain with polar opposites and cast my vote. I refuse to disclose who I voted for because if I voted for Obama, I’ll be ridiculed by my friends and family who are conservative. If I say I voted for Romney, I’ll be ridiculed by my friends and family who are liberal. If I voted Libertarian or Green, I’ll be ridiculed by everyone for voting for a candidate who can’t possibly win. If I voted for no one, I’ll be ridiculed by everyone as being un-American.
I refuse to call EVERYONE who is liberal an idiot. I refuse to call EVERYONE who is conservative and idiot. I prefer to call out the idiotic individuals (have you seen my Michele Bachmann posts?) rather than denounce an entire group of people. I do tend to lump all Tea Party adherents into the idiot category, I admit, but I need to see one Tea Party figure who isn’t an idiot to stop that mass generalization. When I find him or her, I’ll let you know. Not everyone is like that, though. So for those of you who care (which I’m betting isn’t many), when you call an entire group of people names, you might be including me and insulting me. And trust me when I say I AM taking offense.
I am sick of mean kids. Being a teacher, I see it more often than I would like to. I see kids of all ages call other kids names or make fun of other kids. I see girls tear apart other girls over their clothes or round up a gang and exclude a girl, reducing her to tears and laugh about it.
I am sick of mean adults. Adults who look down their noses at others because they don’t make enough money or live in the right ZIP code or wear the right labels on their clothes are nauseating and crappy role models for their kids. I am tired of having to hide who I vote for in elections or what I do for a living or how I feel about social issues for fear of being attacked by total strangers or, even worse, by people I know.
I am tired of internet trolls, people who talk out their asses online under pseudonyms and have nothing productive to say. Sadly, social media has given every jackass in the free world a platform to spew their hatred and misinformed opinions as fact.
In case you’re thinking I’m being hypocritical because you’ve been around me in my snarky moments, I would say I’m really not being a hypocrite. Everyone is mean at times, myself included. But I don’t idle at mean. I’m not malicious at heart. I don’t go out of my way to make people feel small. I try to be open-minded about people I meet. I try to respectfully disagree when I find myself in a discussion with someone. If I have something snarky or gossipy to say, I keep it to myself or a very select audience, like my husband who, by the way, can balance me out nicely at times since he tends to be very Pollyanic about people. When I am feeling mean, I try not to let the whole world see my meanness. A little over a decade ago, I was a hateful person. Hate consumed me. I was miserable to be around and I was exhausted. I decided not to be like that anymore. So when I feel myself being overtaken by negativity, I remember how black it makes me inside. So no, I’m not being a hypocrite. “Mean” is not a personality trait I have.
But I am sick of the mean people, and calling them out as mean doesn’t help. In fact, it seems to invigorate them, like it’s a badge of honor to be mean. So I guess I will just whine about it here while the mean people carry on.
Saw this on Twitter this morning. A parent was arrested for disorderly conduct at a school board meeting where he was protesting a book his daughter was reading. Let me get this out of the way first — I think having this man arrested was ridiculous. There is certainly a news story in his arrest because of how utterly ludicrous it was to arrest him. That being said, I wish that someone (and I know damn well it won’t be Fox News despite how “fair and balanced” they are) would pick up the sub-story, which is censorship.
The novel being questioned, Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult, is one of my favorite books. It is the first book I read by her and it knocked the wind right out of me. As a teacher of junior high aged students and as someone who is active in the anti-bullying work in my district (for me, specifically I work on cyberbullying education), I was riveted by the topic of the book and the issues it raised. It is a great companion book to another novel I loved the moment I read it, Give a Boy a Gun by Todd Strasser.
Nineteen Minutes is a book written for adults; it is a mainstream novel. Give a Boy a Gun is considered a young adult novel, written more for teens. I’m not sure there is an agenda in Nineteen Minutes beyond realizing that there are always many facets to any story; there is a clear gun control agenda in Give a Boy a Gun. I taught Give a Boy a Gun to my 7th graders for many years; I did get parental permission because I was working with 12 and 13 year old students. All parents except one allowed their children to read the book. When I taught my own daughter in 7th grade, she read Give a Boy a Gun. Until I started teaching the novel House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer, Strasser’s novel was the students’ favorite and it generated some of the best discussions about bullying I’ve ever had with students. I suggested to many of my students who got a lot out of reading Give a Boy a Gun that they read Nineteen Minutes, but I also cautioned them that it is a grown-up book and that they shouldn’t read it of their parents preferred they didn’t read adult books yet. Because remember, I was dealing with 12 and 13 year olds.
High school kids are a different breed. Many controversial books with adult content get read in high schools because the novels have value and worth in their theme or purpose. Just check out this list of the most challenged books of the 21st century. High school is where social consciousness in students — who happen to be on the brink of adulthood — really starts to flourish, and reading novels that raise awareness of issues helps this social consciousness develop. Nineteen Minutes is definitely a book that can help students become more aware of themselves and their behavior and their treatment of others as well as find ways to help others who need some care, concern, or assistance.
I’m betting neither Megyn Kelly, Trace Gallagher, nor the parent at the board meeting bothered to read the entire book. Instead, they chose to focus on page 313 and take that one page and that one snippet from the scene that is on page 313 and castigate the entire book. In fact, Gallagher encourages people to read just that one page and make their own judgment on the value of the content of the book. Why should I be surprised that people are so willing to lift something small from a larger work and take it out of context to twist it to fit their own personal agenda? People love doing this.
If the student wants to opt out of the book or the parents want their student to opt out of the book, I’m betting the teacher would be fine with that and come up with an alternate assignment. That’s what I did for the one student who wasn’t allowed to read Give a Boy a Gun (my favorite thing about that incident was how the parent told me what a dreadful, harmful mother I was for allowing my own daughter to read such filth). I have no issues with opting out; however, I would have had an issue if that parent wanted to remove the book from the curriculum. This makes me think of what Captain Beatty said to Guy Montag in Fahrenheit 451:
“Colored people don’t like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don’t feel good about Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Burn it. Someone’s written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, into the incinerator. Funerals are unhappy and pagan? Eliminate them, too. Five minutes after a person is dead he’s on his way to the Big Flue, the Incinerators serviced by helicopters all over the country. Ten minutes after death a man’s a speck of black dust. Let’s not quibble over individuals with memoriams. Forget them. Burn them all, burn everything. FIre is bright and fire is clean.”
Let’s get rid of anything that offends anyone. Once we do that, there won’t be anything left to read.
The View from the Cheap Seats 