Beginnings

Okay, I'm not totally sure why I decided to do this, but sometimes after a day teaching seventh and eighth graders at a fun, semi-hippie art school in Northern California, I have to share some of the crazy things I see. I also periodically like to write down frustrations I have with my own view of the world, which I have come to realize lately is a little naive for a girl my age. So, I am starting this blog at the end of my school day, typing away in what I call The Depths. The Depths consist of the dank bottom floor of our school, which houses the 8th grade classroom, my classroom and the assorted rooms for dance classes, music classes, and the like.

My classroom currently resembles a hamster cage (not surprising), and I am sitting amongst the crumpled bits of paper and abandoned sack lunches, watching students as they file in and out in the daily ritual known as: Looking for Things They Forgot (those things never include the sack lunches, mind you). What is strangely fun about this is that they don't always realize I'm here, so it's entertaining (yes, it is) to listen to them talk to themselves, chide themselves for what they forgot, and, as was just the case with one of my students, freak out completely about losing a textbook he needs for his homework, only to find it on the desk behind him seconds later.

As I sit here, watching students, I can't help thinking of how proud I am of my own student, my little 8 year old daughter who gave her first real oral report through her mouth full of missing teeth about African Savanna animals to her 2nd grade class today. Since I work at the school she attends, I have the luxury of being able to temporarily walk away from middle school into the sweet world of second graders and have a Hallmark moment with my husband watching our child reach her latest scholastic milestone.

I have other things on my mind too, as I hide down here in my classroom, which mostly have to do with how I am going to jam home as quickly as possible after my girl's jazz class, make dinner for my family, and then go to the rehearsal I am supposed to have with the band I sing in. We have been together for about a year, and we play high energy "danceable" world beat music. I like it, even though I was more of a punk rocker back in the day. Our band is a pretty successful one in our town, meaning we get lots of gigs and we actually make money for playing music, which makes me happy. However, I am currently going through a real period of self-loathing in terms of my singing, having just watched a video of said singing from a New Year's show we did. Oh man. If you have never watched yourself on video, you should, so that you can have the experience I did. It's sad- that night I felt all sparkly, fun, beautiful, and "in full voice", but the video tells a different story.

I guess it isn't that bad, because I get a lot of compliments, but sheesh.

So, this is my patchwork life, a series of swatches that I try to sew together to make something meaningful and fulfulling and beautiful. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. In this blog I will share it all, hopefully with pictures soon.