Donna's Dilemma

Also, to answer Donna's Dilemma: "Our team is red hot....You're team ain't doodly squat!". Yes, silly, but cute nonetheless!!

Heat, Spider, MRSA...what a year!

Hello All!

To quote a famous American, "The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated!" I hate to have missed the social last night, especially since it was in my "neck of the woods". I have had a couple of challenges of late. After having recieved a few e mails asking about my situation, I figured the blog would be the best, quickest way to communicate with all my "peeps"!
A quick overview: August 10 - I was bitten (yet again) by a recluse on the "upper left hip". Fill in the proper definition if you must. August 15 - After several days of attempted self-treatment, I was convinced by my dearly beloved to go see a doctor. By this time the overall wound and affected area was 27 cm across and 6.5 deep. It affected my Sciatic nerve, the one that runs the entire leg. Another day and gimpy forever. By this time, MRSA (you know, the flesh-eating bacteria) had set in for a visit. A week in isolation and 43 bags of antibiotic later, and on the 21st I am allowed to come home. I have had a week of home rest and a week of my 'darlins' at school, and am recovering well.
As far as the topic, yes folks, the heat be a killer! And I agree that we are now whimps, with no acclimation to protect us. If the air dies, we die with it! I am looking forward to writing each week, whether by 'net or in person. See Ya!
Joel

Hot, Hot, Hot

Why is it that in the summer you can't even fathom the cold of the winter and in the winter you can't remember the extreem heat of the summer?

How in the world did I ever (or anyone) stand south Georgia in the summer WITHOUT air conditioning? Does the fact that we all have air conditioning somehow make us weaker in the face of the heat and that is why it seems so bad? Is it because we are making our bodies undergoing extreem temperature changes? Does going from a cool 74 or so to 115 compared to pre-air-coditioning when we just went from maybe 96 on the porch under the shade and fans to the 115 in full sun in the garden such an extreem it just feels worse to our bodies because it doesn't know what to accumate to?

I don't know. This is just the ranting of a teacher who wants to be able to stay out for recess and enjoy it without drenching my nice clothes and smelling sweating kids when we come back in to the room. Really, it is pretty sad when the students come up to the teacher asking to go back into the classroom.

Oh, by the way. Speaking of my students... I've changed the way I'm doing journal writing in my room. This year I have taken an idea from Blackwater and we have a timed journal writing when the only rule is that you have to keep writing and everyone writes - even the teachers or any guests in the room. We even have a "Guest Journal" just in case someone walks in. They love it! I have never had the respnse to journal writing that I've had this year. Even my couple of students who were reluctant and hard to get going the first couple of weeks of school are now writing! I've shared with my team (the veteran teachers included) and they have started doing this also - they also are loving it and are seeing the same results. Thank you!!!

Red Hot Summer

Hmm, the heat of summer . . . well, it's definitely been hot this summer, except that we did have a break until May. As long as we had the drought, we had relatively low humidity for South Georgia; then when we first got rain, humidity flooded us. I felt slapped by it. Usually, I don't notice it that much, being unable to separate it from the heat, but not so this year. This year I finally noticed the humidity. I miss my innocence. I much preferred not noticing it.

Red Hot . . . hmm, right now, that term makes me think of the VSU dance line. One of my students is a member, so I guess I'll go to at least one football game to cheer her on. I dread the idea of football. It's one hundred degrees. Why would anyone want to sit outside for three hours? Yuck. Clearly, I'll only attend night games, but still . . . it's not like it magically cools off at 7 p.m.

Okay, clearly I'm struggling. Red Hot Summer . . . hmmm. A chant races through my head, "My team is red hot." (buh doom doom) "Your team is . . ." I can't remember how that line goes. Anyone know?

Wes laughs at me when I remember cheerleading chants, but they come back at the oddest times along with the motions, some of which are rather suggestive . . . "Do it, Indians. Win it for the fans. Do it, Indians. Do it the best you can. Do it; do it; alright, alright, alright, let's do it." Hmm, surely that made me giggle in high school?

Um, I've got nothing, but I'll respond to other people's posts, which will probably remind me of a million things I can write about, but for now, words escape me. In fact, they run fleeing and screaming from my presence. What's up with that?

New Topic--Red Hot Summer

Thank you for all of you who posted this week! I know life is outrageously busy, so I really appreciate your taking a few minutes to keep our blog going.

Ok, well, I'm sitting in air conditioning with two ceiling fans blowing on me and big, fat droplets of sweat are still sliding down my neck. What is the deal with this heat? (I just want it on record that I voted for Al Gore for President.)

Does anyone remember any summer that has been hotter? (And I don't even live in Valdosta.) The other day, the powers that be decided we needed to conserve energy, so they set the air condiitoners in the school buildings to go off after 12:00 at night and turn on at 5:00 in the morning. We think someone reversed the time because the air turned off during the day and turned on during the night. I thought we were going to lose our secretaries and administration to a series of heat strokes.

So, let's spend Sunday evening contemplating on the Red Hot Summer. Maybe you want to talk about this summer. Maybe you want to talk about the summer of your first love. Maybe you want to talk about the summer you were sizzling with great ideas or achievements. Perhaps you want to rant and rave about global warming. It matters not how you diverse as long as you send your thoughts our way. Look forward to reading you! Take care and stay cool!

School Beginnings

I honestly meant to post to the Blog earlier . . . I just couldn't remember my stupid password.

It has been an interesting ten days so far. I say ten because I have never been so excited about an FTE count in my entire life.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit disappointed when I found out that I would be teaching two collaborative classes this year. It's not that I think that I am too good for them; I just have taught collab classes for most of my teaching career. (I think that I have maybe had two semesters out of seven and a half years of teaching that were without an inclusion class.) Nevertheless, the collab teacher and I worked together last year, so we had a history and were determined to make the best of the situation. The first day we had 35 students in period 2. Day two saw a record of 38 students. I just laughed. What else could I do? Eventually, the numbers dwindled down to a more manageable 33. Luckily, my other English classes are only in the 29-31 range.

Did I mention that we have no English books or literature books? They are coming . . .

Other than that, things are going well. Hectic, but well. I'm on a new team, and they have embraced and fed me well. (Let's count the number of times I can use "well" in a sentence.) My kids are different, but in a good way. I have joined the world of WebCT and just completed Dr. Smith's first assignment. Now if I can just fit in some time to exercise . . . thank goodness my mom walks Lorelai!

Hope all is well with everyone else.

School Beginnings

Hmm, it's been a crazy start this year. I teach MWF, two writing classes for early childhood education majors, one writing class for English majors, and a directed study for an advisee who couldn't get into the senior seminar class. I desperately need to publish this year.

Speaking of publishing, I just finished a second round of editing on the anthology, mostly for consistency across entries rather than for errors. I think it will go to the publications department within the next few weeks, so perhaps within a month or so, I'll be distributing the anthology. Cool, huh?

School has definitely started, but I'm not in the grove yet. Journals come in today for two classes. At that point I'll feel crushed under the weight of fifty notebooks and seventy-five papers to read and comment upon by Wednesday, but it will get done. It always done.

I feel a bit out of the NWP look. I owe Donna C. an email. I need to get the brochure ready for next summer's institute. I need to make sure someone else has reserved a hotel room for the NWP conference. I need to talk to Carlyn and Donna C. about professional development. I need to scream and punch something--okay, not really, but yelling and hitting work really well for stress relief to me. So will walking, though, and Lindsi and I will do that in the morning.

School Beginnings

• buying new clothes, a special trip to the mall or wherever
• setting the alarm clock
• meeting new people, always worrying about who would end up in my classes (I still worry about that)
• confusion as schedules change for a while
• parking woes and complaints (ooh, note to self--renew my parking decal)

I used to love the trip to the mall to buy new clothes for school. Mom would give me a budget, and we would go shopping, once we got to the point where we could afford that, probably by ninth grade. We would go to Governor's Square in Tallahassee my first few years of high school; then we switched to the Albany Mall my last few years because it had better sales. Plus, I liked the Albany Mall better--I'm not sure why. Clothing decisions were mostly my choice, but I struggled between a few nice things and more outfits from cheaper stores. More outfits usually won. I enjoyed shopping with Mom on those trips, especially the last few years. I was the only kid left at home, and that was a good time with Mom.

Now, I hate shopping. I desperately need new clothes, but I should lose weight before I buy any, so I keep wearing the same tired clothes. Mostly, I just want to be comfortable. Clothes don't matter much to me beyond that (obviously, as most people who know me and SEE me realize).

Hmm, what else about school? I liked school. I pretty much always liked school although there were certain classes I didn't enjoy and certain teachers I disliked. However, I had good teachers for the most part, teachers who knew the material, teachers who cared about students. Sure, occasionally, someone would have a bad day, but for the most part I never had problems with teachers.

There was a substitute teacher who called me "Donner." She went to school with my dad and just pronounced my name wrong. We didn't live in Whigham my whole life, so I didn't have to follow siblings or have too many people's expectations on me. It's different for my nieces and nephews. One of my nieces looks like me, and she said she had a few teachers who called her "Donna" throughout high school; that would suck.

I've gotten the first set of papers from all my students, so now I have some expectations of them based on their writing ability. I think there's been an increase in the quality of students at VSU over the years. They seem to come in as stronger writers. Yes, of course, there are always a few who need a lot of help, but for the most part, they come in with a stronger set of skills.

Oh, here's a new beginning for me--for the first time ever at VSU, my keys are missing. I think I left them in the bathroom before I went to an 8:30 meeting. When I came out of the meeting at 9:15, I realized I didn't have them. I checked the bathroom, the conference room--no keys. That's not a really good way to start the school year. Now I'm hoping someone turns them in to Public Safety and that I get a call. Thus, it's a good beginning of the school year and a so-so beginning of the school year.

School. Beginnings.

These first two weeks of teaching have made me stop and ponder some of life's most important questions.

1. Is Labor Day in fact optional?
2. Does age have anything at all to do with maturity?
3. Does mediocrity equal competency?
4. Is that guy in the front row flirting with me?
5. Can one exist on Vienna Cremes alone?
6. Could tulle be any MORE uncomfortable?
7. Why do you have to refrigerate after opening but not before?
8. Can I cancel class to eat bagels?
9. Where is my parking sticker?
10. Does my cat get lonely while I'm gone?

New Topic for the Week--school beginnings

Sorry I missed you last week. I had major trouble getting into the blog. I thought it was my human brain, but it turned out to be my computer brain. So, it sounded as if everyone was very busy these last two weeks. I know I was! My brain was mush and still is trying to recover. So the natural topic for this week seems to be school beginnings. Not very original, but I thought we might like to touch base with that topic just to see where everyone is right now.

I have had the best first two weeks I have ever had and I owe a lot of it to the class this summer. We are really doing all those things I said we would do. The principal is supporting the project by allowing us to work on it in our study groups. The kids absolutely love everything we have done so far. One little girl wrote me a letter that said, "If it weren't for you class, I wouldn't want to get up every morning."

I also have collaborated with 5th grade on a writing project. The special ed teacher said that was the first time she had ever seen some of those kids smile and participate. So, other than having the worst cold of the century, life is good. So, post those blogs and share those stories!

write night

Tonight I'm in my corner, upstairs, by myself. The clock is ticking away and I haven't eaten supper yet. (The Wheat Thins and dip don't count.) That's one of the things I like about being a grown up...I can eat what I want. Sometimes I have dessert for supper. But tonight it might be PBJ. My stubborn dog, Buttercup, and I have Obedience Class soon so I couldn't make it to Hildies. I have to wonder who is being trained. She's acting just like a teenager...loving one minute, but ask her to do something and she turns her head and ignores me. It's bad enough that I have "issues" but I have a dog who does, too. I'm tired, Buttercup. My body aches, I'm tired. I've run all over town today and haven't hit a lick at my thesis. I'm tired of that, too. Buttercup, how about finishing that blasted Chapter 3 for me? I've got treats for you. Buttercup, oh Buttercup.

Growing up is highly overrated. I did it once and didn't like it. I think I'll be a kid again. Where's the peanut butter and jelly? I hope I have bread!

Dream big

I can still see it all pretty clearly. I am up on stage with the most kick ass rock band ever assembled. I am wearing a red and black plaid kilt, combat boots, a thin, tight black t-shirt (I'll be ripping it of soon anyway) that reads "white trash wannabe," and a Jiffy Store mesh trucker hat that says "sold out." I start to sing, and I can barely hear myself over the crowd singing my song. People keep jumping up to the stage, and I keep kicking them back ninja style. The music gets more and more tribal, like some sick mix of rusted root meets Henry Rollins. I just start shouting out random crap that makes absolutely no sense and has nothing to do with the song I was singing, but the crowd loves it and the band keeps playing. So I guess I am kinda living my dream without the cool clothes and literal kicks to the head. I hope everybody's year is going as great as mine. It's amazing how the SI never fails to pump me up and throw me back into the fire!

Childhood Dreams

You know, I actually wanted to be a jockey until I was about ten years old. That's right, those short, stinky guys who ride horses but get hardly any of the fame. I was THAT crazy about horses. I owned two horses, broke them both and had to leave them when we left Mississippi, which broke my heart.

That reminds me of my nephew Phillip. This kid is a MESS. If you make him upset, he doesn't hit or yell, no. His face screws up and big crocodile tears begin to leak as he cries, "Kiki, you broke my heart!" (Kiki, by the way, has been his name for me since he was old enough to not be able to say "Aunt Kat."

When I grow up

Well, I think that I always wanted to be a teacher. I am not sure why. I used to play "school" with my sister. We always fought over who would be the teacher. (she has been teaching for 14 years). Somehow, Mom got her hands on some teacher material with student books. We must have read those same stories hundreds of times. Our favorite thing was to deal with behavior problems and call parents. Back in the day the "pretend parents" allowed us to paddle the disobedient child. ( I think that might have been the most fun.) I think we wanted to be disobedient just so that the other person would let us be the teacher. I seem to remember workbooks too. We didn't want to write in them though because then we wouldn't be able to use them the next time we played the game.

Now that I am actually a teacher, I don't think that any of what we practiced is what I have experienced, nor will I ever experience that. I never realized how much we needed to know about our students in order to teach them.



I also wanted to be an officer in the Air Force. I guess I only wanted to join the military because my dad was enlisted. I learned a little about what it takes and wanted to be there. I didn't want to be enlisted though because I wanted to make more money. I eventually enlisted but it wasn't all that I imagined it would be. I fell in love with the benefits, the days off, and the relaxed nature of some supervisors. I don't miss people telling me what to do and not having a choice of whether to do it or not, nor do I miss the possibility of being sent God knows where to either be shot at or bored to tears.


Well, I can at least say that I have tried very hard and I have accomplished some of the things that I set out to accomplish. I don't have any regrets even though for the last school year I had my doubts. I wondered several times if I should be teaching students. I have been advised that all teachers, at one time or another have the same sort of feelings.

Childhood Dreams

Hmm, childhood dreams? When I was young, I wanted to be a marine biologist, mostly because I wanted to work with sharks. Well, clearly, I'm no marine biologist, but I did swim with sharks in Belize several years ago. Granted, they were only nurse sharks, but they were as big as I was, and there was nothing separating them from me except for some water. I still remembering swimming over one, about two feet of water separating us, and marveling at the proximity. I thought about touching it, but I didn't want to be the stupid tourist nicked by a nurse shark. Besides, I just liked sharing the ocean. Yes, I know that every time I step into the ocean, I'm swimming with sharks, but usually I don't see them except for when news stations do the flyovers and show how many sharks are actually in the water. That's cool.

Okay, here's a weird shark thing. I'm not scared to swim with sharks. I never worry about what's in the ocean with me--except jellyfish because they hurt. Alligators don't scare me when I ski in a river because I grew up around them and realize that they usually go away from people unless some idiot has been feeding them. Thus, I'm not scared of dangerous animals or fish for the most part. But here's the weird part: I can't hang my feet off a bed for fear of something touching them. So I'm not scared of sharks or gators in the ocean or river, but scared of them in my bedroom? What's that about? And I won't swim in a dark pool at night! Again, that's just weird.

Sharks fascinate me. I love Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. I think that started when I was in college. It was probably the first time I ever watched the Discovery Channel. Now I've seen most of their documentaries. Recently, I watched the new one about the worst shark attack in history when a boat sank, the boat that delivered the atomic bomb to Japan, and the Navy didn't send a rescue team for several days. Anyway, it was an interesting piece.

In high school I didn't enjoy physiology, which made me think I probably wasn't cut out to be a scientist in any shape, form, or fashion. Plus, I refused to dissect anything in high school or college. Maybe then, I should just be a beach bum rather than a marine biologist. Yeah, that's the ticket. Now I just need someone to buy me a beach house. Hello? Is anyone listening? I don't hear anyone volunteering.

The music is different tonight--older rock music. The current song sounds like 50s music, very different from what I usually hear at Hildegard's. I'm glad Hildegard's is back. Write Night just isn't the same unless we're here.

Okay, that's it for me tonight. I wasn't really in the mood to write. I just wanted to see people and get caught up. I'm looking forward to reading what others wrote.

I used to think...

I used to think that the ocean was salty because so many animals peed in it. I'm still not completely convinced my theory is wrong. I've yet to hear a better explanation. I also used to think that ants had towns just like people. That one of those little trails must lead to an ant grocery store, another to an ant hospital. And if we could watch the ants scurrying obliviously, what might be watching us, thinking how little and silly we are. And let's not forget about space travel. At twelve I was as adamant as ninety year old man that we had NOT gone into space and that it was a plan by the government to take our money and make us think they were spending it on something useful. I mean, how do you get to space???

Some of my theories make me laugh now, but in general they kind of amaze me. They remind me of why I like working with kids and why I'm so excited about having my own. I love the "logic" that kids use, that, in kidspeak, is logical. It's so much fun to see kids get excited about something because they invented it. (Nevermind their creation has been around since before patents.) Most of the time they're just so easily intrigued that I can't help but be a little jealous. How fun would it be to take part of your day and watch ants? Or walk a tightrope on the parking lot curb?

People screw their kids up when they try to teach them that part of being an adult is not doing those silly things. And adults screw themselves over by teaching kids that too, because then we miss out on the fun also. Part of my American Literature class always includes a walk around campus where I force my students to be kids and remember what was fun when they were younger. I use it to try to explain innocence to them, but in a technology society, it's not always easy to get a sixteen year old to play in a puddle. Until they try it and realize it's still fun. I wish more of our students remembered how to have fun in a puddle and less of them emulated the "adult" world that Hollywood and pop culture shows to them. No, I'm not naive or wishing for the "good old days" my grandparents talk about. I just wish more kids, no, not kids, more people realized how much life there is around them without all the stuff. And that when they swim in the ocean, they might be swimming in whale pee.

Write Night

Okay, folks, I realize that I'm posting the topic WAY early, but I'll be racing to get there after my class ends at 6:15. Then, I'll need to eat something because, after all, I'm a writing project person, so I figured I should post a topic now: "When I grow up . . ."

Today as I direct many eighteen-year-olds to different rooms, I keep thinking that's not what I thought a professor's job involved. And then I remember that professor never made my list of dream jobs when I was a kid. I wanted to be an actor, a marine biologist, a shark researcher, a rich lottery winner, but never a college professor. To escape the craziness of today at VSU, then, I'm suggesting a return to childhood dreams. Let's see what they are.