Divine Inspiration

This poem is the result of a spontaneous overflow of emotion...or whatever the quote is! ;o)

It does rhyme, but I hope you'll critique it anyway! Thanks in advance.

-Jason

As one who views sand but sees a terra of pearls,
Our Father knows who is not of this world.

If righteous meant recognizing a litany of wrongs,
A Pharisee would have inherited Jesus’s throngs.

If all were judged according to community,
Lot would have burned for eternity.

If the perdition of a Brother meant you had no hope,
Peter would also have hung by a rope.

And if politics was the name of the game,
Christ would never have surrendered his reign.

Indeed, if a soul was judged by corporal sins,
Who among us would ever get in?

No, we all have a key to the Heavenly gate,
And only two things determine our fate:

Loving God with all of our heart
Is essential from the start.

Next is a call to love neighbor as Self,
But this begs the question of our own spiritual health.

Beloved, before we can accomplish this task,
There are several questions each must ask.

Among them is pondering the meaning of love;
Does it mean judging as the One up above?

Next is the condition of our own self-image;
Do we tend to see Satan when we peer at our visage?

Finally we must question this imperative’s meaning;
Does it call for us to ignore all political leanings?

In order to do as our Savior has asked,
We first must dispose of our temporal mask.

This struggle is Mighty from the very beginning,
But with Him as our guide we are assured of winning.

The good and the bad about...teaching

HI everyone (again),

Just wanted to rant a bit about what I've been doing for the last six weeks. I've had a crash course in No Child Left Behind, Raising Standards, and what it takes to make AYP as a school in the state of Georgia.I've met numerous state officials with the department of ed and they are all highly qualified and capable. I've learned about middle school, about middle school teachers (a very special breed, and I say that in the best sense), and school systems. And this is what I've learned while working at a "needs improvement" school that is in danger of being "contract managed" by the state:

1. There are some really good teachers out there. Veteran teachers and new teachers. Some, however, are lazy. They see any change as "more work" instead of "better work." And the thing is this: these changes have been coming down the pike for years. But as with many people, teachers are slow to change and so now, in the last hours so to speak, they are having to do things. Some of the veteran teachers I work with are very smart and capable, but they are very, very cynical. They barely let me speak before shooting down what I'm saying...they don't have the latest training and some of them don't care to get it.

2. Some teachers really like kids. I mean, they really LIKE them and want to see them succeed. They are not always barking orders at them or looking at them cynically. These are the teachers that succeed (and tend to be better teachers). Some teachers don't like kids...or they are teaching a grade level that is inappropriate for them. It is important for teachers to really think long and hard about the age group they want to work with. Having said all this, it is the attitude of the teacher that is the number one determinant of a student's success. Why? Because students are primarily concerned with two things...1) whether or not the teacher likes them and 2) whether or not the teacher believes they can do the work.

3. You would be amazed at the similarities in teaching college freshmen and high schoolers...or middle schoolers, for that matter. Amazed at the level of literacy that is. I would say that the most crucial part of any student's progress is his or her ability to read, understand, reflect, and synthesize material. But this is not happening...for many students. So many are not being served because the standards are so high. This is the weird paradox of setting standards.

4. These students are savvy at taking tests. They are taught the lingo, given practice tests, spoonfed and beefed up on this stuff. What teachers must do is teach the "test" in different and more creative ways. Teachers are the ONLY place where some of our students can be imaginative. It is up to teachers to initiate and instigate this in students....teachers can do it, if they care.

5. Administrators are trying hard. They have a great deal to work with and some are not all that qualified. Some are put in their positions because of winning seasons or just hanging around for decades. Be patient with them and invite them to learn. Show them what you know. Invite them in, let them be a part of things, keep them in the know.

6. A school's atmosphere has to do with learning...not control...imagination...not stagnation...caring...not criticism...raving instead of ruling...soulfulness instead of soulessness...

7. If you do one thing today to help someone live a better life or feel better just for a moment, would you say your life is worth something? Yes it is! It is important to inspire in everyone around us this thought: Students hold the key to their success, but we, as teachers, show them the door.

Various RAGES

HI everyone,

I'm enjoying all these voices. So varied, so fun. I can't help but dovetail on Donna's post (I think a week ago) on certain rages. This was a great read, and I had to respond with some of my own. Some of them take into account several of the posts so far:

Weather Rage: What possesses people to talk endlessly of the weather? It's in our southern bones, I think. Weather is a rage, in its own way; I could watch The Weather Channel all day long and never tire. I secretly harbor a fantasy of doing this as my mid-life career...I could wear those stretchy plain button downs, have my hair fixed just so every day, and look like a deer in headlights as I pronounce the rain in Minnesota!

Strip Mall Rage: Enough said. It is very strange to eat Thai food next to a LA Nails or Dollar Tree.

Holiday Rage: Okay, enough all ready. We get decorations out the wazoo for three months in advance of every holiday. We are advertised to ad nauseum about every holiday and suffer this weird "guilt" for not spending hard-earned money on Oversized teddy bears and huge boxes of candy. What is this Hallmark Holiday culture we are in? The church is all but lost...and its sacraments and festivals and feasts...but I was in Wal-Mart the other day and I swear, half the people buying most of that stuff didn't really have the money for it. So sad. And while I'm on that issue, how about CANDY RAGE? My children, who are 3 and 2, came home from their pre-school with a bag full of candy and junk from their Valentine's Party. This was a full bag, folks, not just a lollipop or anything. I think to myself, who spent all this money to buy this junk? Most of it went in the garbage can....sad to say...I'm not a candy nazi or anything...just wanting my kids to not get sick. They are too young to be eating such large amounts of sugar.

Credit Card Nation/Rage: Some of the poorest people I know (namely college students) are the most in debt. Here's what's happening at my house: My credit card bill (to which I owe nothing, which makes them mad) has come to me on average a day later every month. They send it at the last minute, hoping against hope that I'll lose track and have to pay the late bill. Plus, they come up with fees that are for this-and-that...and I've had to call and get these fees taken care of. They are literally making millions off people who don't pay attention. Credit cards will sink us, to be sure. And this comes from someone, who long ago, got sunk pretty bad in debt.

NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND RAGE, RAGE, RAGE. Here's the deal, folks: No Child Left Behind, in theory, has some really good points. It is data driven and based around accountability. These are good, right? But what about our growing population of special education students who are taught in the same classrooms as others (to which I agree with...) but are tested on the same level, too? These test scores are put with the others and guess what? The school doesn't make AYP. The school continues to lag behind because these students are held to the same standards as everyone else. Again, sounds good, right? But totally unreal. Totally failing the students and the systems...and where is the money to help these programs? In Iraq. At War.

Teacher Rage: I know all about this, as I work with teachers every day. These are the real deals, working in the trenches of our schools. They do so much work and feel so underappreciated. For all you teachers out there in blogville, I just have to stress to you that you are making a difference. And that each time you are positive and supportive to a child, you are helping them do better and be better. Whatever you do, though, please encourage your fellow teachers to keep their cynicism to themselves. It is unprofessional and bad form to have our students hear our gripes and complaining. They hear enough of that already. But teachers should be accountable. They should be properly trained (Go writing project!) and they should be paid more.

I'll think of more rages as the day goes on...

I hate cold weather!!!

So some people like the cold, you know, fires and blankets...not me. I want to be baking. I pay to lay in a box and feel my skin cook to a golden brown. They say it gives you cancer. I say cold air makes my backbone twist into a knot in an effort to find a warm spot in my gut. Living in south Georgia for most of my life, I realize I have no appreciation of true cold snaps, but every morning when I check the weather, I think of my friends in Atlanta who are fourteen degrees colder than me and thank God that I live in Valdosta again. I relish bright colors, flip-flops and sleeveless shirts. I know that these things are accompanied by gnats, sweat, and it-ain't the heat it's the humidity. But I countdown to these days...

Ah crap! My power just shut off and I'm in the middle of Hildegard's sitting on Ms. Muppet's Tuppet typing without any curds and whey cause they haven't brought my food yet. Now I realize my writing and tone have taken a certain turn, but due to the dastardly cold snap outside I'm going to take this as a sign that I should use tonight as a catharsis. WHY are they playing what could be described as island music when it's ten below a cat's teat outside??? Ms. Muffet wants her food! Is it Muppet or Muffet? And if it's Muppet, is she related to Kermit? And if it's not, wow, life must suck when your name is Muffet. As a seventh grade teacher, I can only imagine the jokes kids could come up with for that one. Okay, now that I think about it, I can't, it's just a retarded name. You can't even come up with a solid perverse joke from that one.

I've been made aware of an entirely new cold snap. Apparently my butt crack was revealed to the patrons behind me as I knelt before my tuppet. This epiphany came to me as I the door to Hildegard's opened and the cold snap attacked my nether regions. I will now return to the community tuppet where I can hide my face and hope that no one has seen my rear.

Curds sound kind of gross, don' t they?

Cars hmmm

My immediate thought is NOOOOOOO! My son will be 16 next week, and although he is not ready to get his license just yet, within the next year and a half we will have 2 teenage drivers. Two kids riding and sliding around ditches, thanks Lindsi, I am now more scared than before. I shouldn't worry, both these boys are more sensible than their older brother about whom I am hearing tales already and he is almost 22, so old to have so much hidden from me.

I didn't have any tales of horror to hide from my parents, its easy when you don't drive. I do however have one from y hubby. I thought I was so clever. Learning to drive and able to get around on my own, had to be extra careful of the SP's on base, I tried to reverse into the drive and heard crunnnch. OOPS! I pulled out, turned around and pulled in frontwards. The garage door was dented. I played innocent and never thought about it again till now. That is the only untruth I ever told that I know of to hubby.

Outside a man in a motorized wheelchair is slowly making his way down the street. How much fun would that be I wonder. Or the wonder of the world unveiled a few years ago, the contraption where a person stands up and controls a two wheeled motorized vehicle.

Sean will be a safe driver, maybe overly cautious and angry drivers will roar past him as he remains oblivious to their angst. Robert will be my demon. He is saving now, I have an idea hiw first withdrawal will be a ticket. . . That or for a tow truck. The eldest needed a locksmith three times in three weeks. I have no room to talk. A year ago I locked myself out of the car three times in 2 months. It just didn't cost me as much, a phone call for the spare sorted it out.

I remember wet, cold, muddy days in England. Dad would say hop in the car we're going on a mystery tour. This was usually to collect firewood. One time though we got stuck in the mud. Mum can't drive, so dad had to stay in the car. Her lovely white shoes and the outfit she wore were splattered and brown with wet gooey mud when we finally got going. Or how about the crank not working so run and push the car till it takes off leaving you almost face down in the road. Balance was a must in those days.

No matter how bad the old days were, there was a lot of fun and laughs.

Big Blue

My car trouble of the week involves a 1995 Chevrolet truck. We loved this truck when we first bought it. Wes was taking art classes at VSU, and it worked well for hauling around his life-sized canvases. (That's another issue by the way. Walk out of our guest bathroom, and confront a 5 x 8 ft. portrait of Wes's face in orange and black reminiscent of suspect number 2 in the Oklahoma bombing case. It's enough to make you need to return to the bathroom.)

Okay, back to big blue . . .This truck rocked. It hauled all our stuff. I used it the semester I was writing. I drove it to Chattahoochee, Florida, where we used to have a cabin, my dog Seminole riding in the back. I wrote every week and then returned to Valdosta on the weekends. I felt like I needed Seminole with me for protection on those trips. The neighbors were nice, but I heard faint strains of "Deuling Banjos" every time I pulled into the driveway. One of the neighbor's houses, a nice-looking brick house, sported three holes on the roof, covered with a black tarp.

Eventually, that semester ended. Wes regained his truck, and I reclaimed my 1990 silver Mustang. I finally bought a new car, a 2002 silver Nissan Xterra; a year later my parents decided to sell their 2002 Toyota Prius that I had been driving (another long story) for four months, so we bought it. Wes got the Xterra, and I took the Prius.

We abandoned Big Blue, retiring it to a corner of the yard, only pulling it out when we wanted to take Seminole for a walk around campus or when we had to set up Wes's booth at the South Georgia Bridal Expo.

Then, the Xterra needed some work, so Big Blue came out of retirement. Normally, this isn't a problem, but tonight Wes has to take pictures at the Mr. ABAC contest in Tifton, so he's driving my Prius, and I get . . . yep, you guessed it, Big Blue.

I still like Big Blue, but I'm out of practice driving him. I crank him up, and he growls. Remember, I'm used to a hybrid, sometimes electric, always quiet. I look around, waiting for someone to shush me and Blue. Blue disregards others' thoughts, making as much noise as he wants.

I tap the gas to pull out of the driveway, and he pounces onto the road, shooting gravel behind us, demanding people get out of his way. Yeah, I could get used to that. I start feeling invincible when I'm behind the wheel--at least, until I tried to park downtown. In my Prius, I just pulled into parallel parking spaces, no manuevering needed. The parking spaces laugh at me as I drive slowly by them tonight; they taunt me.

I circle the block and finally find three spaces in a row. "I can do this," I tell myself, trying to bolster my confidence, but I secretly agree with the parking spaces. I pull into the spaces and try to center myself; then I back up just a tad in case someone parks too close in the front. "Yes!" I congratulate myself, step out of Big Blue, and grab my laptop bag to head to Write Night. When I step out of the truck, I realize that Big Blue is taking up a space and a half. I look at the truck and consider moving it, but decide against it. Big Blue deserves a little space, and I deserve coffee and cheesecake, preferably both. I miss my Prius.

Alternative Topic: Car Chaos

We're having too much fun talking about car issues, so here's an alternative topic: Car Chaos.

Write Night 2/15/07

Okay, here's the topic for tonight's Write Night: Cold Snap. As always, feel free to write on this topic or to ignore it, writing on whatever you want. The point is to write, to share, to play with words on the page or the screen.

Write on the blog, or write elsewhere and post your favorite lines to the blog. We'd love to know that you're out there writing with us, whether you write tonight, tomorrow, or the days after. Happy writing.