#she brought a box of children's books to class last week for an assignment and i ended up taking over 10 of them home

[billowyy]

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[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 67

English Composition broke off the animated chatter of the latest slew of papers that mentioned the President’s words and then delved to new directions while you settled into the new desk off the side of the front row without an attached desk. A few days back in the former week the evident inch to the side you made to avoid squishing your belly with the L shaped attached desk that brought out one of the desks set aside for the occasional expecting mothers to begin the start of the difference of your place in classes. Beginnings of more changes that were to come while eyes could now gauge just how long you might have left and every loop of your arms around the protruding belly that occasionally you amusingly rested things on top of to find comfortable positions or angles to work with as much ease as possible.

Trig and Calculus held more room in their desks for the men usually in use of them. The latest stories on new discoveries from the new large telescopes were brought out for Astronomy and books were consulted to enforce what facts and details were necessary to understand the news fully. A sudden glance to the clock on the wall by one student when the class felt a bit long had you all scramble for gathering your things to free seats for the incoming students while you made for the next class. The empty seat for you seemed to put a lock on your Sociology class that all looked your way when you came in a few minutes late. One hushed apology and an explanation and in relief the Professor began the lesson when you took your seat after a chuckle at the distraction from the latest news from space.

Hot and humid random bouts of breezes from open windows and turning fans to the final class after having spent a good part of the last class with a spare bit of folded paper in hand to keep cool. Quick and sharp mid paragraph on an argument to answer the prompt given a shriek left your lips at the feathery body that collapsed onto your desk. Over your lips to the shiver of feathers and fix of wings your hand settled for a wide eyed stare at the now upright Barred Owl that sat atop your desk that blinked at you to the open of the classroom door revealing the twins who wide eyed found you and the reason for your shriek that called them there.

The soft squeak heard in the silent room had its head turn and named the reason why it had flown in, a small mouse was snatched up and carried back out the open window. Quietly the twins eased back out of the classroom while your Professor came over to help pick up your things that had been scattered to the floor uncertain of what to say other than to remind of how much longer he was to give the class to finish filling out the sheet. To a pat of your free hand on your belly you got back to the assignment that afterwards two people were chosen to share their answers with the rest of the lesson to follow. Another note however once class was called found you on the way back to the fake courtroom again where you flashed a grin to the students gathered there.

The TA came over at the side of the lead Professor who grinned and greeted you, “Welcome, welcome. Heard you had a mishap with an owl.”

“Oh, ya, flew in a window to chase a mouse and landed on my desk. No harm done. These cases better than the last two?”

The Ta said, “Well, Divorce Hearing and an Art Heist Trial. Hard to have as many difficulties as before, these two Lawyers do try to make difficult cases with new plot lines compared to the first two.”

You nodded and glanced to the preteen near to one of the students who was accepting a packet of his own and asked, “That kid is part of the cases too?”

The Professor nodded, “Yes, Billy’s brother to stand in as his son for the case. Usually hangs around after his class gets out so they can head home together and in a couple weeks will be out of class and have plenty of time to come and help with the Divorce Hearing if we did need a testimony from the child involved.”

“How is there the same amount of evidence for these cases as the first two? I take it there’s one for the divorce and the rest are for the heist?”

“Half and half actually,” that had you huff.

“Let me guess, I get to read another diary of the loosest men and women legally tethered together.”

The TA as you accepted the clipboard to sign the form to accept the file boxes now loaded onto a dolly by him smirked saying, “I wish we had more to offer case wise than attacks on character and morals. You must be exhausted of it after having to read the first set of evidence.”

In passing back the clipboard to the 2nd Professor who approached you replied, “We can barely go a mass without hearing the word whore, I’m not exhausted the word has lost its sting and I’m just disappointed honestly at the lack of imagination. I know children who can reduce grown men to tears if they need help on that front they could even consult Officer Browen’s boy, he could blow these cases out of the water for what they could be.”

Making the men chuckle and grin to the TA who said, “True, very true. Hopefully next year we could add in a line of teens to run these cases by. You know I can’t remember going through a week of high school without crying.” He said playfully on your joint step to the door and he asked, “You?”

“Well, I was an orphan in a Catholic School, practically disowned and I can’t remember speaking without my voice cracking until I got into the school in Canada that got us girls enrolled in Nursing courses to help the efforts.”

“They really got you in high school?” He paused and said, “I know you’re young, but how young were you?”

“Fifteen, for the Nursing courses, then um, I was sixteen when me and Eddie got sent to that base hospital. I’m 22 now, got my GED a couple years after I’d have graduated high school. So my odd timeline is a bit jumbled compared to normal education markers.”

“Wow, 22, and that’s with a Bachelor’s Degree of Medicine?”

“Science, but, same horse different hat.”

“And with babies on the way in the middle of more degree hunting. And I thought my working nights while at school was rough.”

“My dad worked in a factory to fund his try for a degree here and to save money for my schooling and my other brother Steve’s. Neither of them got to their degree but I am determined to get to the finish line.”

“Well save for more owl attacks you should get there in no time,” he joked and you chuckled to yourself and slowly took the few steps between wings he eased the dolly down the steps. Excited chatter picked up to the soft sway of the fan in your hand to try and bring up any details that could let on how much fun or how long these two cases might last.

James outside of the car smiled in opening the trunk for him and helped to load up the six cases then watched the TA hurry back while you lowered into the car to sit down out of the sun. Behind you the boxes were levitated to the library where you settled the Art Heist Evidence that your family gladly listened to the case that had one twin out of a pair that could both likely be culpable for the crime. And yet the one on trial had a sound seeming alibi merely for the hint that the lead in charge of the investigation had a grudge with him. The twin spurned his daughter years prior and contrasting the ridiculous crime itself.

With little proof they arrested him for the robbery on Mr Barnham’s mansion, one of several he owns, while he threw a costume party at another. Several priceless gold statues along with gem accented decorations were taken along with a solid ruby/ivory/ebony piano and a variety of black market paintings and marbles. Almost all of the black market pieces were returned to the museums and exhibits they were stolen from. The gem based goods are still missing. All the portraits and statues were replaced by ones modeled around cats.

Every testimony was read through before you closed the box after finishing on the alibi for the twin on trial that had you hope they pulled that up quick to have you throw the case out. Although for your luck you knew they would want to stretch it out to use as much of the information given as possible.

Emil Schmidt – Age 32, Job – Advertising, Parents well off, Met in high school. Has had several affairs then he filed for separation. Already in new relationship with latest mistress who is a co-worker. That was the Husband in the mix before you delved into the Wife and child.

Wife – Sylvia Schmidt – Age 31. Daughter of a painter, painter herself, mother is a concert pianist. Tried to file for separation before then she found out she was pregnant and had to stay with him for son’s sake. Their nine year old son was in several clubs with great grades.

The witnesses for the Husband sprawled out from bad to worse and almost had you in a fight against tears for what these pretend people were saying about this nonexistent woman. Friend who tries to say wife could be a better mom and wasn’t a good wife. Former Boss of hers in gallery to say she couldn’t keep up with employment to hint she would be unable to provide for son. A shrink he had consulted about her who hasn’t seen or spoken to her who diagnosed her as unstable. Assistant who says she demands gifts and is bad with and is after money.

Fully contrasting her witnesses that weren’t as venomous against him as his had been at her. Ex Mistress, bad breakup with hubby for younger woman, not the only one. Former Driver who says husband drinks heavily and has seen him degrade her over the years. Current Mistress of the Hubby. Tutor for son who says he’s been to both places and seen conditions son has to study in. Mom helps him but dad’s has more space for him to spread out his work.

Assets came next with little mention of anything concrete for the future of the family that furrowed your brows and had Eddie ask, “Problem with the case?”

“He has no will, no investments, doesn’t even own the house they’re fighting over,” you flipped the page, “Or the car.”

James rumbled, “That’s a terrible plan. Nine year old, what happens if he kicks it?”

Victor, “Even for the new Wife, no matter how young she is, I take it she’s younger than the current Mrs Schmidt?”

“Eleven years younger.” That had the brothers chortle and you said, “And eleven years older than their son.”

Eddie, “Now that’s shameful. One for the Mrs and two above all for the kid.” He pointed to James, “I mean you’re 117 years older than Bunny but even if there was an adult kid involved her and them wouldn’t be almost on even scales maturity wise. 9 is a short skip to teens when feelings and hormones start to rage and that Mistress just out of her teens relates more to the kid than the dad who grew up pre-Depression while she grew up after. I mean he’s old enough to have been drafted with a kid left behind and the Mistress was still in school probably running bond raises.”

Unable to help it you giggled and in Eddie’s rise to go help Teddy lift his bucket of colors that got stuck you caught James’ eye and made him ask you, “What’s funny?”

“What was your fake birth year again?”

That had him chuckle and Victor said, “You’re still half his age with the fake numbers. Bumped our years up a century.”

Norma giggled and leaned in to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek, “And you look phenomenal for your age.”

“Oh, Jeanie, I have that screenplay, or the first half of it, if you’ll check what I have for it?” She nodded and when you were helped up she joined you in the living room where you left your bag to offer her the notebook you had been writing the new draft inside to be typed up later on when it was finished properly up to par. Onto the chairs you settled and in her move to your side with use of a red pen you made note of the changes she mentioned on the pages for small things that could be expanded upon later in the new draft you would have completed by the days off.

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Two more Photography Clubs and a meet up of the Paper came between you and your free Friday evening that had you with a second notebook to hold the draft for now the whole screenplay that you made note could possibly stretch the film to three hours if they cut nothing out. At your side with equally as furrowed brows Eddie typed up the second half of the screenplay while you typed up the first half on matching typewriters to get the task completed quicker. And by the time you were on the final page the doorbell sounded and with news of more casting news Stark came in and boasted to you all before with a smile he took hold of the first chunk of the screenplay he chose a chair to dig in to the more detailed layout.

“Bunny this is brilliant,” he said while Eddie took the final page he shook and laid on top of the upside down stack he stood to ease underneath your stack you added your own final page to moments prior to complete the hefty screenplay.

“I thought it might be a bit too thick actually.”

“No,” he said, “I love the extra bits, any that you’ve added. And it gives us some cushion for later to work with.”

“Well I think that’s all of it, so you won’t be held up by it.”

“I am not held up. But I can get this to the printer today and by tomorrow for the new copies of scripts to hand out. I’ll make sure you get a couple copies yourself on top of Norma’s.”

“Okay, hopefully I didn’t miss a typo in there.”

Eddie smirked and said, “There’s an x’ed out R in mine.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Doesn’t matter, the printer will skip that.”

“If anything I think Jeanie will have it memorized by the time you are filming, she’s given the drafts a few reads and given me some notes on how to fix it up.”

Jarvis beside him asked, “How do you plan to spend your day off?”

“Well Ambrose and her Husband are expecting us at the birthing class tonight. There’s only four moms in town due soon and the Nuns like even numbers, so even though they know the ins and outs they’re up for support.”

Howard said, “Didn’t you help with the three munchkins around here?”

“Ya, but still, it’s sort of expected and since I see another Doctor and not the Maternity Home here weekly they still invited me to participate in their classes. I mean three babies at once, could use all the tips I can get. And I think it’d be worth the giggle to have James mothering a doll. Him and Vic melt just tucking in Teddy’s bear in with him at nap time.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Well I hope it helps. Heard they even have meditation now for moms.”

“Just hope they don’t try to get me to lay down on the floor like they did with Gina in her last baby, I need a nest to lay down on my side and on my back is out of the question.”

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Lunch was next in the absence of your guests and afterwards signaled Gina and her Husband’s arrival to escort you and James through town to the same Maternity Home where you saw the elated Nurses and Nuns there in the clinic you passed through. Beyond the mothers not so far along and those who had already given birth you felt eyes on your wide belly that was visible in the dips of your dark grey overall shorts that rested over the peach polka dot coated sleeveless blouse. Right beside you with hand on your back James strolled with a grin on his face for this next step that would hopefully help to warm you up to the change coming. Nervous slightly himself to see what the lessons were on since the last time he was expecting a child there were no prenatal classes to be had. As if Eddie and Victor’s sharing of classes had simply been wiped from his mind now that you were here. And the sight of Dr Roan who smiled widely had you smile back on the way to the side room where a quartet of mats were laid out on the floor.

“Ambrose, and Bunny,” the glasses wearing nurse with a Scottish accent said with a smile and said, “You two can get ready to settle onto your mats with daddy behind you.”

With a small grin you hushedly spoke with Ambrose and James to choose between the final two open mats where James lowered with hold of your hips to help you down to your knees. Gently to your right side you lowered to your hip after releasing the hands of the most experienced Nun who came to check on you herself after not having seen you since Teddy’s rough birth. “There you are Bunny.” Her smile spread to the sight of your tucking your legs underneath you in a slight lean forward that aided in James’ gentle stroke of your back as he settled his legs on either side of yours. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, made sure to eat first so the girls are in a good mood.”

“That is very good,” she said and moved to check on the other mothers making sure to recall to check on you later when the class was over.

The second soft speaking Nun who to the record that the Nurse with glasses turned on to set a calming mood for the beginnings of recommendations on positions, “And if you can stretch out your legs and lean back into Daddy’s chest.”

Her eyes landed on you that had you giggle and say, “I can’t stretch my legs straight out or my feet go numb when I’m upright.”

And softly she chuckled, “Best we don’t have that. Cross legged is just fine, and will help to stretch your pelvis and thighs for your babies.” Moving to stroll around the other couples while you smiled at Ambrose in her relax into her husband’s chest as James eased you back into his to take your weight and let you relax.

Talks and a few sparse jokes mingled through the guided show on breathing and close eyed guided meditation to help relax through birth until the talks of how baby shifts that a fellow young mom to be in the back was being guided through this by her mom. “This is where your down bellows sneeze on you.”

That had you giggle along with James to the Nun saying, “The mucus plug is next to arrive on you, yes.”

That had Ambrose look your way and she giggled to your point her way as you said, “I remember for your second you let out this shriek in the toilets at the market, frightened that girl Bridget to almost wet herself thinking someone had broken in.”

James hummed, “Must have been a fun story to share with you,” to her Husband who smiled and shook his head.

You giggled again as Ambrose said, “Only thing more terrifying to him than a baby coming out was knowing there’s more to it than that.”

The Nun chuckled and guided you through the next set of steps and got into a few positions to help labor along until she asked each of you how you planned to have the babies you were carrying. Ending with you of course that had you giggle and say, “Bit hard to plan mine. My Doctor has been talking about either a push birth or a possible c-section. Planning for both I suppose.”

“Are you frightened about that?”

With a shrug you said, “They’re going to have to come out one way or another. And I seem to be following the plan superbly, and that’s a quote from my Doctor who would know the best way to go after having helped my mom have me.”

The other two mothers in more in depth conversations delved into that with the arrived Nurses from the now closed clinic with Dr Roan in their group who came to lower at your side and sit on the ground with a kind smile. “We are all glad to see you here today. Are you in the third trimester mark already?”

With a nod you answered, “28 weeks tomorrow, so just on the cusp of it.”

“And your next appointment is?”

“Tomorrow,” you said and to the shift of your belly his smile widened and you said, “They love to kick and wrestle around.”

“May I?” he asked in a lift of his hands and you nodded and guided his hands to rest a palm on each baby and the third the Nun felt.

“There’s a butt here, and this one’s a head, and a back here. At least for now until they swim around on me.”

The Nun asked, “Is your tummy always this stiff?”

“Only a few hours after I eat, then I get these weird gurgling noises and it all relaxes. My Doctor said it’s just my system adjusting to the new weight and moving gasses.”

That had her grin ease out as he said, “Well you seem to be growing very well with little signs of discomfort.”

A tape measure was produced with impressed grins at the size and shared presumed weight of four and a half pounds each so far by what you had gained taken as guesses by your Doctor. All promising of good signs you could make it to the final few weeks if possible. And all seemed to be in high spirits when your sister and brother in law led you and James back home to relax again and share about the first class.

.

Eisenhower broke the silence of the upright courtroom, “Good Afternoon, be seated.”

He sat next in the ripple of replied, “Good Afternoon, Your Honor.” and eyed the crowd who took their seats again to the approach of Officer McTavish who passed you a sheet of paper for the open file on the desk after he read, “Good Afternoon Judge. This is case number #. The State of New York vs Lewis Patzer.”

“Thank you Officer McTavish.” Your eyes shifted over the eager students in their assigned seats on Council and the trio on trial who simply were waiting for you to ask, “Are all parties and Council present?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” both sides stated and then the Prosecution stood for the one in the paler suit to speak, “District Attorney Antonio Speltzer for the Prosecution and this is Thomas Wnters for Assistant District Attorney.”

They sat down and while the judges took note of the progress to far or procedure being followed the Defense got their turn to stand to name their three male pretend client on his feet beside him, “Vernon Dorman, Your Honor, on behalf of Lewis Patzer.”

You asked when they sat down to the General’s own check mark on his procedure notes at your right, “Are all parties ready to continue?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the four Lawyers stated and from your notes you eyed the charges to be read off for each.

“Lewis Patzer,” you said and the student for her and for Vernon Dorman stood for the read of charges, “You are charged with Robbery and Possession of Stolen Goods, how do you plead?”

To the charges Stark’s mouth quirked up into a grin just barely in shock for what sort of trial this was and he heard his lawyer state, “Not Guilty, Your Honor.”

You nodded and made your own note of that on your notepad and stated, “The Court is ready to hear recommendations on bail now.”

For that the DA Antonio Speltzer stood and with notes in hand stated, “Your Honor the State recommends bail be withheld on each of the Defendants. Mr Peltzer is in possession of ample funds from this crime and is able to fund an escape out of the country.”

Lawyer for Mr Peltzer, Vernon Dorman stood and said, “Your Honor, my client is innocent in all of this. And was merely arrested on counts of bias on behalf of the Lead Investigator. He has no criminal history. Your Honor my client is willing to surrender his passport to remain at home through this baseless trial.”

The curious author who watched his trial come to life and wet his lips as you said, “Agreed, bail is set at $. Officer Browen please escort Mr Peltzer out to see to that.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he said accepting the signed bail sheet you handed over to him while the Defendant and his attorney thanked you to the scoffs of the DA in mock irritation to his being freed.

Smirks spread through the audience as the trio stood and were escorted out to the nearest room in the hall outside while notes were taken of this part of the trial being covered and both sides of Council readied as one by one from the final group of 24 students the Jury questioning was carried out. Just a couple questions were asked to speed up the process out of the pre-selected groups from each side with some removed and traded for more acceptable options.

Jury – 12 people

7 male/ 5 female

3 Late 30’s and up / 9 Low 30’s -18

8 rich/ 4 blue collar

To the assignment of those Jurors those students were relieved to fill up the only Juror Pool of these final set of trials and were excused from the courtroom to be given proper instruction while you closed the case for the day and stated the date that the case would be resumed. Pleased with the first step concluded the Council all filed out to take seats and allow the Council for the second case to file in for their own turn.

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Schmidt vs Schmidt

“Are both parties present and ready?”

Both on their feet the Husband’s Lawyer Samuel Felton and the Wife’s Lawyer Lee Hogue spoke together, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Samuel Felton here today for Emil Schmidt.” And the other Lawyer spoke, “Lee Hogue on behalf of Sylvia Schmidt.”

You nodded and asked, “Have you two at least come to the agreement on who opens the case?”

Lee Hogue smirked and said, “We have, Your Honor.” While the other students sat he continued to share the background of the relationship of the duo. “Almost out of a storybook these two met, Mr Schmidt from white collar roots while my client came from a daughter of a painter and a concert pianist who over the dividing lines of an artistic family and one of a more pragmatic family bent on successful business ledgers began to date in High School. And over the years Mrs Schmidt has faithfully stood beside Mr Schmidt through numerous infidelities and social set backs while he found his footing in the Advertising world. A trial separation by my client was approached nearly a decade ago until it was confirmed she was pregnant with their child, Daniel, who is nine now. We are here today because Mr Schmidt again is in another relationship outside of the marriage and wishes to marry his mistress whom he met at his place of employment.”

“Very well,” General Eisenhower stated in the sip of water you took from the glass at your seat to wash down the scratch you felt at the back of your throat to a speck of dust in the air that wafted down from the fans above now in use after months of sitting stationary.

To the lower of the glass mention of the offered prenuptial agreement was detailed and then the points of deal breakers ended the day on a term of complete shambles to negotiations and work ahead to add in new assets gained since the date of the wedding. And the hushed murmurs and stolen glances were silenced with a welcomed gavel slam to free you all into cooler halls with notice of Friday as the next day to meet up.

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Divorce outside of your case found itself in the headlines and above the picture of the moment where you and James stole a kiss after the trial. Your hand on his belly and his on yours in the toe top pose had speculation that a divorce and custody battle was underway with a wait until the baby was born for him to drop the bomb on you. Giggles and chuckled comments was the response when the headline was brought up with your grin being split wider to the jokes your favored Professors had come up with for this new development on yet another story in poor taste.

All false but it sold papers and for the addition to the piles of headlines like tear away calendars that got you closer to another week closer to Canada. Closer to the film that Norma was so eager to get started on that you had written and the home repairs that could keep the guys from hovering around you like concerned chickens ready to cuddle with the incoming babies. Dawn as well looked forward to be back near to her family who was aching to see how big Teddy and Marigold had grown and shower their grandbabies with as much love as possible to help grant ample time for you to relax and focus on your nesting phase.

Small steps would get you home again and your lives ready for this next step. Small steps like the next day where you completed another yearbook event you photographed while Portia took notes on the event for the paper. And while Victor printed the photographs for you up in the new Nursery where James found and smiled joining you in arranging small things around the trio of cribs the Brocks had lovingly made quilts and cushioned covers for the inside of them. Careful tucks and adjustments of items around the built in units the guys made for you while you were at school covering a full wall to the changing table opposite the mural coated wall the supply of diaper cloths with snaps to avoid delirious accidental stabs on pins was given their weekly refold.

Up around your back James molded and covered your belly with his hands to a press of his lips on your temple and murmured lovingly, “We’ll be ready for the girls.”

“We need gates for the steps,” that had him smirk and he hummed approvingly as you said, “Teddy nearly flipped over the pop up ones last month. Frightened Dawn half to death and Goldie and Petal will be up and around soon.”

“Okay, let’s sketch some stair gates. Me and Vic will make them while you’re at school and Dawn takes the munchkins to Mamma Brock’s.”

You nodded and to the sitting area in your room he helped you to come up with a simple solid door on a hinge with horizontal planks anchored by two vertical boards on either side with a board diagonally cut between them. Like small barn doors they would be anchored on hinges that would lock in place on the opposite banister to keep the babies from being able to clamber down the stairs without an adult to guide them. Grey and white were the chosen colors and everyone loved the designs that after supper James and Victor got to measuring the staircases for each at the tops and bottoms while you and Dawn soaked your feet.

Pt 68

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @changlingkhat​

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam​​, @swoopswishsward

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Unfolding

New Story! FFN and AO3

Lily and James make a life for themselves and their family after the war is won, and Hogwarts is going to end up calling them right back home. A little TheyLiveAU for you to hide from cannon on this Halloween, requested by the wonderful @thisismegz, thank you darling! Jily. TheyLiveAU. One-shot. Fluff. Family. Happy ending.

One last Jilytober story! @thisismegz sent me a Tumblr post that was too cute not to write! You can see @suspiciousnargles original post here. Enjoy a happy they live au where the Potter family gets the happy ending we all wish they did. =)

Unfolding

"This feels weird," Lily looked at James as they unpacked another box.

"Well, it is sort of strange to be in the Potion Master's private stores and not be worried about being caught.

"I can't believe Slughorn's retiring." Lily sighed and put another of her books up on the shelf.

"I can," James gave a short bark of a laugh. "The war took its toll on all of us. His nerves aren't what they used to be. At his age, I wouldn't want to deal with these hellions either after all that."

"Just you wait," Lily grinned over at him, "As soon as the Transfiguration position opens up, I'm putting in your name."

"I'd be a lousy professor, Lils, and McGonagall won't ever retire," James shook his head before snagging Harry around the middle and turning him away from the box of glass vials.

"That's exactly what I said when I told you they'd offered me this position," Lily smirked at him.

"Yes, and the difference is that I'm right," James smirked at her from the box of dried potion ingredients he was unpacking. "Besides, if I taught here too, what would we do with the house?"

"We'd live in it." Lily laughed. "We've talked about this; I'm coming home every night."

"Yes, with a stack of papers that need grading that's so high it won't fit in the chimney when you floo out." James' smirk was wide across his face and his eyes were full of mischief.

Lily turned to Harry, "You see how mean your daddy is to your poor mummy?"

Harry laughed and toddled over to her side, arms high to be picked up. Lily reached down and put him on her hip before kissing his cheek.

"I'm going to miss being home with you all day, though."

"Don't you worry about that," James came over and wrapped her and Harry in his arms. "We'll be underfoot now and again."

Lily found out as the school year progressed that James and her had very different definitions of the term "now and again."

It felt like every spare moment, James and Harry would come tumbling out of the floo in her office and Harry would run on little legs to hop up into her lap.

"Mummy!" Harry came barreling at her, cookie tin in hand. "We bing you cookies!"

"You brought me cookies?"

"Yes! Because it's Haoween! And Haoween needs treats!" He pushed the tin into her stomach as he tried to climb onto her lap.

"And because it's just about time for you to set all this work aside and enjoy yourself." James came and sat on her desk.

Lily looked at the still five-inch-tall stack of papers on her desk.

"Come on, you know you'll finish these up with no problem tomorrow, and I happen to know that you are all set on your lesson plans for the next year."

Lily looked down at sweet Harry in her lap as he tried to open up the cookie tin, and then she looked up at James. "Alright, but tomorrow I have to finish these."

"Bring them with you," James jumped up and pulled Harry from her lap, still trying to get his little fingers to open the cookie tin. "You're not coming back to work until Monday."

"You think so?" She asked, even as she waved the papers into her bag.

James came up and wrapped his free arm firmly around her waist and brought his mouth to whisper in her ear.

"I think I can make it worth your while to let work stay at the office for most of the weekend."

"Daddy, what are you saying to Mummy?" Harry stuck his head between them.

"Don't you worry your little ears over it, mate." James chuckled.

"Let's go, you two crazies," Lily laughed and summoned her bag. "I'm ready for some Halloween treats."

"Cookies!" Harry cheered and hosted the now open run over his head.

It was a few weeks later that Lily sent James a Patronus to come to her office just as soon as he could drop Harry with Sirius and Marlene. He was there within five minutes.

"What's wrong?" James came out of the floo so fast that he had to run to catch himself before falling flat on his face.

Lily bit her lip and tried to keep her nerves at bay.

"James, you remember Halloween?"

James' look of concern morphed into confusion.

"Sure, we had a good time."

"Did you remember to cast the spell, before we...?"

James frowned, "I don't know, but you're on the potion, so I guess I haven't been as concerned about it."

"I apparently have not been remembering to take it like I'm supposed to…" Lily trailed off.

James' face went from confused to a look of pure joy and excitement.

"Lily, Lily are you saying?"

She swallowed hard and nodded.

James cheered as he rushed to take her in his arms and spin her around in circles as he kissed her.

"What are we going to do?" Lily struggled with the emotions warring within her.

"What are you talking about?" James kissed her again. "We're going to have another baby!"

"What about this job?"

"Lils, it's going to be fine. Women have careers and children, isn't that what you tell me a bunch of the fuss I see on the Muggle telly is about? You're going to be fine, and we'll work through whatever you need. I'll even come be your substitute when you need it."

Lily laughed as the excitement finally started to win out over her anxieties.

"We're having another baby!"

"Merlin, Lily! We're having another baby!" James spun her again and kissed her, a much more serious kiss than the sloppy excited one had been when she first told him.

"James…"

"You don't have class for another hour." He murmured against her. "It'll be just like when we were Head Boy and Head Girl."

Lily smirked against him. "I hope not, you're much better at it now than you were then."

James laughed and swept her up in his arms.

"I'll get you for that."

While James had been certain they'd be able to work through it all, Lily found being pregnant and being a professor to be a fair side more frustrating than even she had anticipated. She had a fair amount of potion brewing going on to combat the morning sickness and the drowsiness and the forgetfulness. When the end of the year finally rolled around Lily thought she might faint from the relief.

"I can't believe I still have nearly two more months of this." Lily fell back into a chair as James translocated the things she wanted back home over the summer with her.

"Harry and I will do our best to keep you pampered. Besides, I think it being a girl is draining you more than when you were carrying Harry."

"All I know is that the end of July cannot get here fast enough." Lily smiled as James came over to kiss her.

"Let's get you home. There's a bed with your name on it."

"That sounds heavenly."

The last eight weeks of her pregnancy with Grace were trying, but holding her little girl in her arms was the kind of experience that left Lily speechless and on the verge of tears. The tears came when Marlene brought Harry into the room and he sat next to her on the bed, stroking his baby sister's sparse hair.

The tears came again when it was time to leave Harry and Grace at the start of the next term. Even with having left for a couple of hours here and there for faculty meetings and for the feast the night before, Lily still felt her eyes watering as she said goodbye to go teach the first day of term.

"Lils," James set little Grace down in her bassinet.

"I'm fine," Lily angrily swiped at her eyes. "I'm fine."

James gave her one of his critical stares before nodding. "Alright, we'll see you tonight. Have a good first day of term."

Lily pulled herself erect and fixed a smile on her face. "Thank you, love."

The day wore on and even as Lily lost herself in teaching, her mind kept wandering towards how her baby was doing. She'd been spoiled with Harry, forced to spend every moment with him. Not that she viewed it as some great thing at the time, she was more worried about all of them staying alive than the novelty of being with Harry all day every day. But now she could feel the difference, and while she didn't want to stop teaching, she definitely felt her body reacting to not being with her baby.

She'd just sat down to eat lunch in her office when her fireplace burned green and out toppled Harry, followed more cautiously by James holding baby Grace close to his chest.

"Mummy!" Harry came running up to her lap. "We've brought lunch so you won't be lonely because eating by yourself is lonely. Daddy says so."

Lily nearly cried all over again, but getting to hold Grace in her arms and Harry on her lap while she chatted with James about how her morning had been was exactly what she needed.

"Same time tomorrow then?" James asked as she handed Grace back over.

"Do you have time for that? I know you and Sirius are trying to get all those newfangled inventions off the ground."

James laughed and kissed her. "Sirius is not going to complain about being sent home to Marlene at lunch."

"Fair point."

It was those family lunch dates that really made a name for Lily among the student body. A student came to her office during lunch to ask a question about an assignment to find the Potter's all gathered around Lily's desk.

"Oh, er, sorry Professor, I didn't mean to interrupt…"

"Nonsense," James picked up Grace from Lily's arms. "Come and ask away, Professor Potter always has time to help a student."

Lily smiled warmly at the little first year. "What can I do for you?"

Tentatively they asked their question and after they understood the answer, Harry pulled on their school robe.

"Are you going to eat lunch with us too?"

The student looked up at Lily with wide eyes and Lily laughed.

"You're welcome to a sandwich if you'd like one."

"Here," James pulled out his wand and transfigured a napkin into a chair.

The student gawked, "That was wicked, sir!"

James chuckled and looked at Lily, "Sir, has a nice ring to it, don't you agree?"

From then on Lily found that at least once a week a student would manage to come have lunch with her family. To begin with, it was only first-years who needed that feeling of family being close, but by the time prep for exams was beginning to push hard, older students would come by just to ask for the chance to sit and laugh and play with Harry and Grace.

"Are you coming to the final match, Professor?" Gryffindor's Quidditch captain asked about a week before the match.

"I hadn't thought about it." She snagged Grace around the middle before the little girl could pull James' wand from the table.

"Can we go, Mummy?" Harry jumped up to stand on his chair. Lily and James both went to steady him.

"It could be fun," James smiled at her. "We haven't been to a match since I was the one leading the team."

"You were a Quidditch captain?"

James nodded, "Gryffindor took the cup the year I captained the team."

"Would you look at my plays? I bet between you and me Gryffindor can have the cup in the bag!"

Lily laughed as the mischief bloomed in James' eyes. She turned to Harry as she helped him to sit.

"I think we're going to the Quidditch match."

"Wahoo!" Harry cried out, Grace mimicking her brother's excitement.

Lily had worked very hard not to show any favoritism among the students, especially based on their houses. But James didn't feel that way at all. Lily had decided to go in early and get a few more exams graded before the match and James was going to bring the kids just a few minutes before everything started so they could walk to the pitch. When he stepped from the grate, both kids in his arms, Harry's face was painted red and gold, as was James', and all of them had shirts on with lions' heads in the act of roaring.

"James," Lily groaned.

"It's all in good fun, Lils," James grinned. "Besides, how cute does Harry look in all of Gryffindor's splendor?"

Lily couldn't help but smile as Harry roared.

"I'm a Gryffindor!"

"Did you take a picture?" She laughed.

"Of course," James set Harry down and took his hand. "Come on, mate, let's go watch Gryffindor win!"

Harry roared again in response and tried to walk on all fours out of her office to the pitch. James handed Grace over to Lily and swung Harry up onto his shoulders.

Lily didn't hear the end of it from the Gryffindor students for the rest of the term. No one questioned who the Potter's were siding with. Lily managed to keep her cheering polite and for both teams for most of the match, but she did show her house loyalty rather loudly when Gryffindor won.

Her family became something of a fixture in her teaching after that. James would often bring the kids to just be in the castle and visit McGonagall or show them the grounds and the giant squid. They set up the sleeping quarters so that they could have weekend sleepovers at the castle as a special treat for Harry and Grace. Students who were regulars for lunch would ask how the kids were doing when they came in for class. Harry adored the attention in the halls from students giving him high-fives or hugs. Hogwarts came to know that Professor Potter, Mr. Potter, and their kids were somewhat of a package deal.

Which meant they probably should have seen the next thing coming, but Lily was so content with their life, that she honestly didn't.

They were having lunch around her desk when McGonagall knocked and stepped into the room.

"Minnie!" James smiled. "Pull up a chair and have some lunch with us!"

"Mimi!" Grace toddled over to her and hugged her legs.

McGonagall smirked at James, "I hope you realize that these sweet babies of yours are the only reason I don't turn you into a frog for calling me that."

"Why would you turn Daddy into a frog, Minnie?" Harry frowned and looked up from his soup.

"Oh, I won't turn your daddy into a frog, my dear. I need him to do something important." McGonagall sat down and pulled Grace into her lap.

"And what's that, dearest Minnie?" James gave her one of his winning smiles and Lily laughed at all the memories it pulled forward.

"Replace me."

James nearly choked on the butter of bread he'd just taken.

"Replace you?" Lily stared. "What on Earth do you mean?"

"Dumbledore has decided to retire and go traveling, see the world, that sort of thing. And the governors have named me the new Headmistress. Therefore, I get to select the new transfiguration professor. My choice is James."

The Potter's sat speechless and wide-eyed for several seconds before McGonagall looked down at Grace and chuckled.

"I think I may have broken them."

Grace giggled and snuggled close into McGonagall's chest. That was about when Lily regained control of her brain.

"Would you mind giving us some time to discuss this, Headmistress? I'm sure you understand it's a lot for us to work out."

"Of course," McGonagall kissed the top of Grace's head before handing her over to Lily. "I'll need a response in two weeks though. I'd like for the new teacher to be introduced at the end of year feast and if you decide this isn't right for your family, I'll want the extra time to find the next best thing."

"Yes, we'll not keep waiting any longer than necessary." Lily smiled as James nodded absently. McGonagall smiled at them and slipped back into the classroom and out to the corridor.

"Well?" Lily looked at James.

"Lily," James' hand shot to his hair. "How would we handle the kids? And my work with Sirius?"

"You can tell her it won't work." Lily gently pulled his hand from his hair. "You don't have to do this."

James was silent for a long moment.

"But what if I want to?"

"Then we make it work." Lily squeezed his hand. "We can figure it out."

James sighed and looked up at the clock on her wall. "You have a class in five minutes. Let me talk this through with Sirius and then we can talk it out tonight."

Lily leant in and kissed him.

"Don't worry, there are no wrong decisions here. It's just what we think is best for you and our family."

They didn't get it figured out that night, or the next, but after a week of hashing through it all and determining the best options for all the scenarios, the little Potter family met McGonagall in her office, and James gave no warm-up to their conversation.

"So, when do I get to take over?"

McGonagall almost cried out in excitement before jumping up from her chair to embrace them.

It wasn't easy, change rarely is, but their little family adapted to their new life. Old friends from the Order pitched in to help with the kids. Molly Weasley really loved having Harry and Grace around to play with her youngest two. And the Professors Potter became a new sort of institution at the castle. If you couldn't track down the Potions Master you checked the Transfiguration classroom. And if you couldn't find the Transfiguration Professor, he was likely to be in the dungeons. They only showed their colors while cheering Gryffindor's Quidditch team, but even James couldn't stop himself from pulling the Slytherin captain aside after a poor match and explaining where their team could improve and how to train for it. Hogwarts and the Potter's were something of a package deal.

And when Harry and Grace were old enough to come to Hogwarts, it already felt like home, because in a very real sense, it was.

[soyforramen]

The firm’s annual Christmas party.  That much closer to the end of year bonus, two weeks away from grueling corporate clients, and, more importantly, it was the time where Brett did what he was born and breed to do.  Schmooze.

While he was a man of, admittedly, quite a few talents (including but not limited to: lacrosse; getting into fully booked restaurants on an hour’s notice; and winning at the company’s forced monthly trivia (a blatantly outdated attempt at creating a better team cohesion among the younger, potential partners)), his most well honed skill was working over people for his own gain.  The natural charisma that oozed out of every one of his finely pampered pores was intoxicating to people of a certain ilk.  People like Weatherbee, who came second in the firm’s long historied and prestigious name.  Chipping, in particular, was still gushing over Brett’s most recent brief, wherein he presented the novel argument regarding corporate personhood and the parental legal rights of those children left in its care while their parents worked upstairs, that followed.

He’d be tapped for lead counsel in no time.  

Brett straightened his bowtie, about to launch into another witty repertoire about how he’d found a long lost legal case from 1873 that - 

“Ah, there he is.  Jones, over here,” Chipping said, interrupting Brett’s most charming piece of witticism tonight.

Brett’s face fell and he did his best to keep from looking as if he smelled something inferior.  He turned to greet his reluctant colleague - one must always keep up appearances, no matter the circumstances - and found the most recent hire walking towards them.  On his arm was a woman that looked like she’d stepped out of a Mattel commercial circa 1963.  Blonde, pink, and peppy.

“Mr. Chipping, Brett,” Forsyth said by way of greeting.

(Brett refused to call him by his particular nickname, if it could even be called that.  And even if it was, it certainly wasn’t a descriptor befitting a lawyer of one of the most prestigious firms in the world.)

“This is my fiance, Betty Cooper.”

They shook hands and Brett could almost taste the sparkly glitter of the world this woman lived in.  Unicorns and roses; a life that would be further tinted in sunshine by the salary an attorney of Jones’ caliber could provide.  The contrast between her and the gloomy Forsyth should have turned heads, but even Chipping seemed enamored with the pair.

Realizing he’d missed part of the conversation, Brett waited until a lull and did what he did best in this sort of situation: inquire into the life of someone beneath his social standing.

“So, Ms. Cooper.  What is it that you do?”

Forsyth smirked.  He slipped his hand into hers, a move that would have been sweet on a sixty foot tall screen.  But this was real life, and certainly no one was that enamored of their partner without some sort of chemical boost.  Brett made a note to suggest a floor-wide drug test at Monday’s meeting.

“Oh, just a few things here and there.  Trying to save the world one small cause at a time,” she said brightly.

Ah.  An elementary school teacher.  Brett smirked.  Who else claimed to ‘save the world’?

“Sounds like the world has one hell of an advocate.  I suppose Forsyth has told you what we do here?”

Betty batted her eyes - a vapid and flirtatious attempt at catching the eye of someone much higher on the food chain than her dear Forsyth.  A gold digger, for sure.

“He did mention the attorney-client privilege rule, so I’m afraid he wouldn’t be able to talk about what he does, even if he wanted to, Rhett Eaton Allspice.”

Forsyth choked back a laugh and, worst of all, even Chipping seemed to get a kick out of her mispronunciation of his name. Brett, meanwhile, almost burst a vein as he tried to keep his teeth from grinding themselves into oblivion.  Taking the high road, he excused himself.  

He was a Wallis, and a Wallis never stood for this type of humiliation.  Instead, he spent the rest of the party tactfully avoiding the blonde and her dopey eyed boyfriend.

Bright and early on January 6th, his first true day of work since before the New Year’s, Brett stalked into the mediation room early.  It was a long held tactic, one that had worked to unsettle his opponent many times over.  The earlier he arrived to negotiations, the earlier he could settle himself in, choose the spot that gave him the biggest psychological advantage (a seat facing the door, forcing opposing counsel to constantly fear someone coming in behind them; preferably with a window facing the rising sun that shone directly into their eyes).  

To his consternation, he found the room already occupied by none other than Forsyth’s girlfriend seated next to the woman who had been the thorn in his side ever since she’d brought suit against Lodge Industries.  It took him an embarrassing amount of time to recover.

When he did, he stepped outside to check the room number.

“You’re in the right place, Mr. Wallis,” Betty called to him.  “Unless you no longer represent McCoy, Weatherbee, and Valentine?”

Brett straightened his tie and tried to regain some of his composure.  “I do.  However, this is a court ordered mediation, and I doubt the judge would appreciate anyone other than the lawyers and their clients in the room while we discuss sensitive matters.”

“I’m aware of what the court ordered, Mr. Wallis, I’m the one who drafted that same court order that was signed by the judge.  And, as I recall, your client’s CFO was also ordered to attend the mediation.”

Brett cleared his throat.  The interns he’d left in the parking garage began to file in with their load of boxes, each filled only a quarter of the way, intended mostly for show.  He waved them to the corner of the room while he tried to think of a way out of this.  

Chipping had said nothing last month about Betty being the opposing counsel.  Nor had he said anything about - 

“I’m afraid there’s a startling conflict of interest here, one in which I will have to advise my client about.”

Betty raised one delicate eyebrow, urging him to continue.  Brett tugged at his tie, his mind whirling through the ethics class he’d largely slept through.

“Forsyth, afterall, works for our firm and -”

“And he’s my fiance, a fact known to my client and to your supervising attorney.  When he was hired, M.W.V. put in all the appropriate firewalls and restrictions reasonably necessary to avoid any information about this case being leaked to him.  As for my part, I do not make it a habit to bring my work home with me.”

“Yes, well, protections aren’t always -”

“Did you ever wonder, Mr. Wallis, why it was that Mr. Jones was assigned to pro bono work in the basement?  Over a dozen floors below the one where your physical files are stored?”

Betty reached into the briefcase on the table next to her and pulled out a stack of papers.  She slid them across to Brett.  

“Copies of every precaution your company took, agreed to and signed by all parties, including the judge.  And, may I remind you, that it was your company who pursued Jughead for employment?”

Brett leafed through the papers.  With every new page he could feel the color draining from his face.  Flabbergasted, his mind stalled, unable to process what had just happened.

“Please, take a seat Mr. Wallis.  I believe we can come to a cordial agreement, don’t you?” Betty said pleasantly.

With a heavy thud, Brett sat down, entirely unprepared for what was coming next.

[introvertguide]

Hollywood’s Changing Depiction of Slavery

I am generally not that comfortable with discussing this kind of thing, especially the attachment it has to cinema, because it is a reminder that many of the people that created the art I love might not be the kind of person I would actually want to meet. In fact, the depiction of slavery in film over the last century can give you an idea of how the American population thought of slaves and the business of slavery in general. I am going to try and approach this objectively, not because I don’t want to offend (if you are offended by my personal abhorrence of slavery in any form than you can go someplace else for your movie commentary), but simply because I am a middle-aged white male who has never encountered slavery in person and everything I know is second hand. I have seen guest lectures that involved people who walked with MLK Jr in Alabama, but I know very little about black oppression and outright slavery in America beyond history books. So, to keep this educational and not slip into personal bias, I will describe what I have seen in some example films over the last century. You are more than welcome to view the films for yourself, however:

SOME SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIES ON THIS LIST!!! I STRONGLY RECOMMEND WATCHING ANY OF THESE FILMS FOR YOURSELF!!

The Birth of a Nation (1915)

We are starting off rough with possibly the most controversial film of all time. There were protests against this film from both black and white cinema goers even at the time (according to the AFI blurb) and it is evident that the director, D.W. Griffith, overstepped some boundaries as he made the apology piece Intolerance the very next year to win back general audiences. The film depicts Abraham Lincoln positively, which was unexpected to me, and former slaves as animalistic and uncontrolled. The Klu Klux Klan comes along and “heroically” controls the former slaves and depicts the reformation as a time in which white women were afraid to walk the street for fear of attack by former slaves. The lack of support for this film by any black actors is apparent since almost all of offensive black men portrayed in the movie are white actors in black face. As difficult as it was for Black Americans to find work outside of farming and industrial labor in the early 1900s, you still couldn’t even pay them to be in this film. It is hard to gauge if many Americans agreed with the opinions reflected in this film at the time, but some people apparently thought that it was a mistake to free the slaves since black people needed to be controlled and why not get free labor for farm owners at the same time.

Gone With the Wind (1939)

This is a favorite movie in my family so I cringe slightly watching this film now knowing about about Hattie McDaniel’s Oscar and legacy. The role of Mammy was played by McDaniel and she won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress...but she had to get special permission to attend the ceremony since the awards were given out at a segregated hotel. She had to use a back entrance and was seated far in the back in an area that was roped off from the white guests. McDaniel was very good at her role since she had played a maid on over 70 occasions and was hassled by the NAACP to use her award as a platform to promote equal rights. I have little reference to what the world thought of the film, but the 13 Oscar nominations and this being the highest grossing film of all time when adjusting for inflation tells me audiences were OK with if not impressed by the portrayals. It seems that America was accepting of the “friendly and accepting” slave who was like a family friend who wasn’t equal but allowed to stay if they did a good job cleaning up around the house. This was not a very accurate portrayal of most slave-master relationships, which McDaniel admits, but she is quoted as saying “it is better to get $700 a week to play a maid then get $7 a week to be one.”

The Legend of N****r Charlie (1972)

During the 60s and 70s, there was a genre of films known as “blaxploitation” which capitalized on the idea that black characters were portrayed stupid thugs that were easily subdued by intelligent white men. This genre did the opposite and featured black heroes who overcame adversity with their power and intelligence, normally over a white adversary. This particular film portrays a slave taken from Africa who is falsely accused of murder and has to run from a racist white sheriff. He turns into a gunslinger and makes a posse of other black gunslingers and this group defeats the evil sheriff and escapes. This portrayal seems as likely as that of Mammy, but the very poor production value and terrible acting (it is pretty difficult to get through) meant no awards. Noting that the box office sales were high almost exclusively at theatres in predominantly black neighborhoods, America was split on the depiction of slaves. White people seemed to be happy with the housemaid while black people wanted a tough hero that rises up and gets vengeance on their oppressors. 

Roots (1977): 8 Part Mini-Series

I was unaware that this miniseries was shown over consecutive nights in January of 1977, but tens of millions of people watched all of it (that is 12 hours over 8 nights) and still talk of the impression it made. This movie showed Lavar Burton (you know, the guy from Reading Rainbow and the actor who played the blind guy on Star Trek) as a slave stolen from Africa who was shackled and beaten into a life of submission. This film portrayed slavery as an atrocity that planted seeds of hate and distrust that carried on through generations over hundreds of years. Judging by the ratings, this woke up a lot of Americans to the horror that was slave life. Portraying slaves as happy house maids or whistling old men with big smiles was no longer acceptable. The final episode of this mini-series remains the 3rd highest rated showing of all time according to the Nielson ratings. The series as a whole was nominated for an astounding 32 Emmy Awards and won 9 of them. The low win count was due to multiple actors from the series competing in every acting category. After Vietnam and going into the Cold War, America wanted gritty realism and this seems like exactly that.

Amistad (1997)

I find this to be idea of slavery that I most relate to as realistic. It stars Djimon Hounsou as a slave that leads a revolt against the slave traders on the ship Amistad in which the entire white crew was slaughtered and the offending slaves were brought to American courts to stand trial for murder. This was based on a true account and directed by Steven Spielberg. One might note that the top billed actors are actually Matthew McConaughey, Morgan Freeman, and Anthony Hopkins, but Hounsou absolutely stole the show.  I hate courtroom drama in general, but the testimony of this slave was riveting. According to historian accounts, there was a point during this infamous crossing in which it was decided there was not enough food for all the slaves so a couple of dozen humans were tied to a rock and thrown overboard. It has been over 20 years and that still sticks with me. I wouldn’t expect this to be done to cattle, and the scene of the slaves screaming as they know the rock will pull them down and they have seconds to live still haunts me. It encouraged me to look up accounts of slaves and others who saw first hand how bad things got.

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I took a an anthropology class in the early 2000s and I remember learning about evidence that proved the horrific treatment of some slaves. It is true that some slaves were allowed to live in the house and treated like family. It is true that some slave owners paid their slaves a small amount or even freed them in their will. However, there are also many children of mixed heritage that prove the amount of rape that occurred. There are also bones in shallow graves in back of some of these old plantations that show evidence of multiple breaks, amputations, mangled limbs, and broken backs that have no sign of treatment but the wear and tear of continued use. These people were worked and beaten to death. If that is what happened, then I don’t want it glossed over with Hollywood scriptwriting. 

But I said I would be objective so I will stop there. I can feel myself getting angry and opinionated as I write. Learning about history and enjoying a story on film for entertainment can be separate things. Deep breaths.

There are many, many other movies that portray slavery including The Color Purple, Song of the South, Django Unchained, 12 Years a Slave, and Glory. I am not as familiar with these films as the ones listed above, in fact I still haven’t seen 12 Years a Slave. What I wanted to demonstrate was that films will often depict social issues in a way that is consumable by the masses, and changes in the way things are depicted can indicate a change in public opinion. From what I see in film, the American population once thought of former slaves as a problem that needed to be solved and bringing back slavery could solve that issue. It transformed to a feeling that maybe slavery wasn’t all bad and some slave owners were pretty good to their slaves. Black Americans responded with a genre that said that maybe slaves were tough and amazing which scared people into trying to control them. After the Vietnam War and Watergate, Americans wanted the gritty truth and films began portraying slavery as horrific and scarring to the point of affecting generations with hate. Todays movies seem to recognize the atrocities and to almost look at these actions the same way we look at genocides: how could we let this happen? The students that I work with are now assigned movies and readings that highlight genocide and enslavement, which means to me that we are not in denial of how bad it was and instead looking into keeping it from ever happening again. Perhaps there will be a different viewpoint in 20 years. Until then, I will keep watching movies to get an idea of what the public thinks. 

[softboywriting]

Fireproof // Part 11 The End

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven| Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

|My Masterlist|  

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and commented and loved this fic. Your kindness and support saw me through to the end. Thank you again~♥

It’s been weeks since you’ve moved in with Shawn and he was still being tutored by Jenna, the state appointed partner for his classes. Shawn had requested a new partner several times but got denied each time. So now you were trying to divert his classes any way you could. Somedays you just wouldn’t answer the door when Jenna showed up, other days you would just say Shawn wasn’t home and forgot about class. Shawn really hated her and with good reason. She never listen to him, she corrected every little thing he did wrong by calling him out and explaining why it was wrong in extensive detail. She was just plain mean most days and it stressed Shawn out like crazy. The breaking point comes when Shawn walks into his bedroom and slams the door hard enough to make the shelves on the wall rattle.

“What is going on?” you ask softly, pulling your headphones out of your ears and staring at him from the armchair by the patio doors.

“Get her out of here. I’m done. I’m not taking any more classes from her,” Shawn says, voice low and threatening.

You uncurl yourself and drop your book on the floor to walk over and lay your hand on his chest. “You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll have her leave, okay?” He nods and you walk past him out into the hall to the living room.

Jenna is sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, a book open and she’s reading over it as if Shawn hadn’t just taken off angrily. She looks up and raises her eyebrows. “Is Shawn coming back out for the rest of his lesson? Or should I just pack up and go because ‘he’s not here’ now,” Jenna says with a little sneer.

“Get out of my house,” you say, pointing to the door.

Jenna closes her book. “This isn’t your house.” She tucks away her books and papers into the tote bag she always brought along. “But I’ll take my leave and be back on Friday.”

You cross your arms and look her over. “You won’t be back. Don’t ever come back to this house. Shawn is no longer going to take lessons from you.”

“Are you saying he’s going to go against state law?” Jenna asks as she crosses the room to stand in front of you. “Because abandonment is punishable by law and he will be fined and if found, forced to take classes he hasn’t compl-”

You hold your hand up, cutting her off as you say, “Anything is better than watching him spend another minute with a horrible witch like you.”

“Oh I see!  This is about jealousy. You’re jealous he spends two hours twice a week with me all alone,” Jenna grins, thinking she’s won some sort of fight. “You need to get over yourself sweetheart.”

You set your jaw and tighten your crossed arms. “This is not about jealousy. I’m not worried about Shawn being around you. I have better things to worry about.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t start anything with a student like him.”

You raise your eyebrows. Just what did that mean? “Excuse me?”

“He’s a freak and his attitude is horrible. I don’t know how dragons raise thier kids but-” The sound of your hand colliding with Jenna’s face crates a loud slapping noise throughout the room. Silence falls as her hand comes up to her freshly welted face and you stand with your fists balled at you sides. “Get out, now!” you shout and Jenna turns and hurries to the door, throwing it open and leaving it open as she briskly walks to her car. You stand there with your jaw clenched and hand throbbing from the contact. She’s luck you just slapped her because your other option had been strangling her to death.

For weeks Shawn and his father fight the board of adaptation. It’s one meeting after another until finally one day you find a letter in the mailbox addressed to you. It’s an assignment letter. You had been assigned to Shawn once more.

“Shawn!” you yell, running into the bathroom where he’s showering. “Shawn! I’m your partner! They assigned me!”

Shawn pulls back the curtain and snatches the letter with a wet hand. He reads it over, a smile spreading across his face. It’s excellent news and everyone is happy about it, but that happiness doesn’t last long. Because while you’ve been accepted as Shawn’s partner, you had not been accepted as his mate by everyone. Not that everyone ever would.

Word spreads fast about you and Shawn being officially mated. For the most part, the community is accepting. But there are some who think it’s wrong. That humans have no place living within the dragon community. But these are the same people who think that Shawn is an abomination so you can’t really see why they even care about who someone they consider an outcast is mated to. It really just boils down to the fact you’re a human and you know it.

The only time something happens that settles badly with you is at the local market in town. You and Shawn had gone in for some snacks for your movie night when a couple of young guys walked over and started asking questions about you.

“Hey, is this your girl?” the blonde asks, eyeing you up and down.

Shawn puts his arm around you and pulls you close. “She’s my mate. Can we help you?”

“Nah, I was just wondering why you would pick a human instead of a dragon. I mean, obviously you don’t care about the purity of dragon bloodlines.”

This guy had some nerve just coming up and insulting you out of the blue. “What is your problem? Why do you care about our relationship?”

A brunette next to him just chuckles. “We care because humans are toxic. Your kind shouldn’t be allowed within these communities. You take away from our people and heritage.” “Oh fuck off,” you scoff. Shawn’s grip tightens on you. “I’m not taking anything from you or your heritage. It’s the twenty first century, humans outnumber all races at this point. Intermixing is bound to happen. Don’t think your race is special.”

The blonde smirks and licks his lip before looking to his friend. “Y’know there’s a reason why humans can’t usually carry dragon children. They’re too weak. It’s nature saying that it’s wrong.”

“Can you just fuck off?” Shawn says, steering you away from them and walking toward the registers. You glance back and they’re snickering, knowing they’d gotten you riled up. What assholes.

The next few weeks leading up to Christmas are quiet and peaceful. Thankfully no one else in the community has approached the two of you or treated you any differently than anyone else. You and Shawn finish up his required classes and he takes his tests a few days before Christmas, passing them all with flying colors. The same week he is also offered a job with Draconic Iconic, a high end clothing line that tailors to half-breeds and makes custom clothes to fit everyone with tails to horns and everything in between. He would be the newest model and spokesperson for their collections. You are offered a job as a private partner for a student living in a nearby community who was disabled and would not be able to attend an academy next year.

Christmas morning rolls around and you cannot wait to spend it with Shawn. As if you hadn’t spent literally every day with him since the beginning of the fall. It was still such an exciting idea. Your first christmas as a couple. And your first christmas not being single and opening presents alone from your parents.

You’re up before Shawn and you can’t seem to stay still in bed because you want him to hurry up and wake up, but you don’t want to actually disturb him. It doesn’t matter in the end because he wraps and arm around you and tugs you against him. “You wanna get up?” he mumbles against your hair.

“Really badly.”

“First one to the tree gets to pick any gift they want,” he says as he tickles your stomach before rolling off the bed and running for the door. You scramble out of the blankets, laughing while you chase after him. Once you’re close enough, you pretend to fall and he stops. “Babe, are you okay?” he asks as he hurries over to you and helps you up.

The moment you’re on your feet, he knows you’re faking. There is a split second where he registers that he’s been played but it’s a split second window that allows you to take off toward the living room.

You sit down quickly and start tearing open a box, the first one you see with your name on it and it’s from Shawn’s mom. It’s a pair of slipper socks. You hear a chuckle from behind you and you see his mom already awake and sitting in her armchair smiling at you as Shawn plops down next to you. “These are perfect! My feet are always so cold. Thank you Karen.”

“Alright, my turn.” Shawn says as he picks up a box from you. “Oooo what could it be?” He shakes it a little before opening. It’s a bottle of lavender and sandalwood body cream. “Babe, are you trying to say I have dry skin?” he giggles and you push his shoulder.

“Oh you know you itch at your scales alllll the time. I thought maybe you could use this before bed and its lavender so it’s relaxing and the saleslady said it was super hydrating.”

Shawn raises his eyebrows at you and smirks. “So you wanna relax me in bed huh?”

“Shawn!” you yelp and smack his leg. Karen chuckles from her chair as she gets up to go help Manny in the kitchen where you can smell bacon cooking. You reach for a small box and Shawn snatches it away from you with his tail. “Hey! Not fair!”

“Oh don’t not fair me. You fakes injury to get here first. Besides, that one is for last.”

You roll your eyes and he narrows his. “Why last?”

Shawn holds the box up and away from you. “Because I said so.”

You let out a huff and stand to get it from his tail’s grasp. It’s no use because he pulls it away as soon as you can get close enough to reach it. He drops it in his hand and you step over him to sit in his lap. “I want it now.”

“People in hell want ice water,” Shawn quips and you glare at him. “I said last.”

“But Shawnnnnnnnn...” you stick your lip out in a pout and blink back tears you’ve made surface in the corners of your eyes. He actually falls for it because he drops the box into your lap to cup your face.

“Babe, no, don’t cry. You can have it. I promise, don’t cry.”

You smirk and he knows he’s been played again but you have the box now and he can’t do anything about it. “Let’s see then...” you pull the paper off and open the little lid beneath. Inside is a small black band with a small shiny piece of rose quartz set in the middle. “Shawn...this is beautiful.”

His face turns red and he looks down at it, grabbing your hand to help you slide it on. “It’s not like...an engagement ring or anything unless you want it to be. I thought maybe it’d be like a promise ring or something. I just wanted you to have something so I’m always with you and maybe you’ll look at it and think of me. I-I don’t know I-”

You cup Shawn’s face and kiss him softly. “It’s perfect. I love it. But I don’t need a ring to think of you. I always think about you.” He leans his forehead against yours. “And if I say I would like it to be an engagement ring?”

“You don’t think it’d be too soon for that?” he asks nervously.

You shake your head and look down at the ring. “Maybe it is too soon, but that doesn’t make me want to be yours forever any less.”

Shawn grins big and wraps his arms around you, pulling your chest to his and burying his face in your neck. “Will you be my mate and my wife?”

“Yes, of course I will,” you mumble into his skin and he lets out a little half sob.

“I loved you when I met you. I never thought this would happen. I’m so happy right now,” Shawn says and wraps his tail around both of you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Shawn,” you pull your head back and kiss him on the nose. “Merry Christmas.”

[chloegrayportfolio]

Module Two: Doing Worthy Work

Week 9 Progress Log

What do you believe it means to be educated?

To be educated is to be a well-rounded and well-verse member of society who is socially aware.

What are some of the personal concepts you have about how learning happens?

I believe there are many factors that can influence and alter an individual’s learning experience, such as their relationship with the teacher, their place in the classroom, and how they are taught. Learning only truly happens if it is occurring in a positive, supportive environment.

What is your understanding of what it means ‘to teach’?

To teach is to share my knowledge with each generation of young learners in a way that is both efficient and memorable.

What makes you think that you would be a good teacher?

I believe I will be a good teacher because of how passionate I am in everything I do. Everyday I will work to not only teach and inspire my students, but do so in a way that they appreciate and enjoy. I will also be a good teacher because I will be open and approachable—not at all a figure my students fear.

What do you feel are some of the issues facing schools and education today?

I believe some of the biggest issues facing schools and education today are the heavy dependence and reliance on standardized testing, a lack of access to qualified mental health professionals within schools, and an inequality in opportunities for students in lower-income schools.

What would an observer see in your classroom related to teaching, learning, and the community of learners?

An observer would also see an open learning environment where my students are given options on how to better their learning experience. They would see a variety of teaching and learning styles (verbal, visual (images), text). They would see an open community of learners that treat others with respect and are able to work together and help one another.

What would an observer in your classroom see you doing?

An observer in my classroom would see me forming bonds with my students in order to better understand them and their needs. An observer would also see me always looking to make education and teaching more unique and entertaining for my students through a variety of activities, experiments, and games.

What makes your classroom unique?  Describe it.

I have always believed that a teacher’s classroom is also the students’ classroom, meaning students should be able to have a say in how their classroom is structured. What would really make my classroom unique is based on the feedback and ideas I receive from my students. However, my classroom would have tables set up in a way that makes the classroom feel like a large, open space (rather than rows of desks). It would be colourful without chaos and include things such as quiet corners, a wall displaying the hard work of each student, and as well as an anonymous question box regarding homework that will be answered by me to the entire class, as a way to inspire my students to ask more questions without nerves or anxiety.

How do your students engage in learning?

As a teacher, I would incorporate many different styles of teaching and learning into my classroom, as I believe and understand that each student learns differently and in order to ensure engagement in my students, I must provide them with a variety of things that will help them work towards success. I will incorporate things such as verbal lesson explanations, visual representation (examples(s) of work), and written instructions. My students will have always have the option to explore different learning styles in order to remain best engaged.

What do you want your legacy as a teacher to be?

As someone who is looking to become an elementary school teacher with a preference towards teaching in the primary grade levels, I believe there is a huge responsibility on myself in how I introduce and teach things such as reading and writing to my students—two things I am passionate about. I would like my legacy as a teacher to be the teacher my students will look back on and remember as the person who taught them the joys and excitements of reading—the person who inspired them to visit the library on their free time and appreciate books, especially as these students will still have many years of schooling to go.

I believe …

I believe that a classroom belongs to the students in the class just as much as it belongs to the teacher—therefore, the teacher should always make sure it is an environment their students feel welcome, comfortable, and ready to learn in through the creation of a floor plan and desk plan that works for the class and artwork/motivational images chosen by the students.

I believe that the use of standardized testing in schools is proven to be less of an accurate representation of a student’s knowledge each year and that education needs to move towards more open, community and group-based learning that does not rely solely on independence and memorization to measure understanding.

I believe that there is no logical explanation as to why we expect 25+ students to have the same learning style—each student has the right to be provided with a variety of options when listening to lessons as well as completing assignments, in order to find what works best for them.

I believe there are many factors that can influence and alter an individual’s learning experience, such as their relationship with the teacher, their place in the classroom, and how they are taught—learning only truly happens if it is occurring in a positive, supportive environment, and the responsibility of the creation and upholding of this environment is on the teacher.

Reflection: It was actually quite difficult to choose which sentences to reflect my main beliefs, as the thought of teaching in the future is very inspiring and exciting for me. I have such strong beliefs and opinions regarding how schools and classrooms are “traditionally” run—especially regarding standardized (memorization-based) testing as well as isolated seating plans and work settings. I truly believe that we need an education reform and my beliefs as a future teacher reflect what an education reform could look like, and would look like for myself, my classroom, and my students. These beliefs reflect the desire and hunger for change I have. These beliefs come from a plethora of reasons, but most notably because of recent reflections I have done by myself regarding my history of schooling and education. Despite having solely positive experiences myself in the classroom growing up, I am now well aware it was not like that for all of my classmates. Growing up, I never really noticed how poorly the students in my classes who required extra help or different teaching styles were treated, but as I grew older the biases teachers held in the classroom became clear and apparent. Teachers would talk to these students like they were absolute nuisances, and then get angry when those same students would act up in class or simply just not hand in the assignment. I am able to reflect on the education system and teachers that pushed these students away and punished them. I think about all the children who grew up hating school, when they were really just given adults who were unable to recognize the variety of needs in a single classroom. My beliefs stem from my desire for the next generations to enjoy school and learning much more than mine did.

Assignment 2: Grading and Motivation

Part I: Analysis of Eileen (Student)’s Learning

Student input. What did the student come to the learning with? (Discuss at least 2 dimensions in details)

Despite Eileen’s painful ailments of arthritis and diabetes that hindered and limited her general movements and physical activity, Eileen seemed to be a highly positive, optimistic, and uplifting presence—even prior to meeting Carolyn. Three things Eileen came to the learning with were her values and her aspirations. Whether or not Eileen realized it, she seemed extremely well-rounded in the classroom regarding the work she was doing and the relationships she was building and developing. This well-roundedness comes from who Eileen was a person—what her life values were and the person she aspired to be.

Eileen came to the learning with wholesome, selfless life values that were reflected in both how she spoke to others as well as her behaviour around her classmates: she put every single other person above herself. All Eileen wanted to do was encourage others, put a smile on peoples’ faces, and keep the peace and happiness. Despite the chronic pain she was in, she never wanted to inconvenience others by making a showing of it. Eileen could have easily expressed annoyance, frustration, and anger towards her limitations, but instead she expressed things such as happiness, patience, and strength. However, a negative side of these wholesome, selfless values is that Eileen often put herself last out of fear of inconveniencing others, such as her classmates, Carolyn, and the school Nurse when her swollen legs were in excruciating pain from an arthritis flare up. When Carolyn questions Eileen on why she did not let her pain be known, Eileen says that she cannot tell even her mother because “She was too sad already” (Mamchur, 1981), inferring that these values of Eileen’s may be a result of how she has always had to put her mother’s emotional pain above her own physical pain.

Another strong thing Eileen brought to the learning were her aspirations—she aspired to succeed in whatever was being done, no matter how difficult it was for her to complete—and she did so without a single complaint leaving her lips, only words of encouragement and praise for her peers. The fact that Eileen never gave up on a task and was consistently working to be stronger than the poor health conditions that hindered her capabilities reflects the kind of person she was: hardworking, determined, and strong. She aspired to grow above her limitations, and this was shown in a variety of ways. Despite her own hardships, she always lent a helping hand to her classmates when it came to threading needles or organizing activities (Mamchur, 1981), Eileen came to the classroom with the aspiration to be a helpful, positive presence within the classroom—and she succeeded.

Environment. What did we do together in the school to learn life skills? (Discuss at least one experience that has impacted Eileen’s learning)

Despite the fact that the class Eileen was enrolled in of Carolyn’s was a class that specialized in traditional feminine behavior modification, tackling life skills such as sewing, I believe the most valuable life skill I witnessed Eileen learn in those three pages was how to speak up for herself without fears or anxiety regarding the potential of burdening, inconveniencing, or depressing someone.

This learning experience happened after the school Nurse questioned Eileen as to why she was silent about the intense, excruciating pain she was suffering through. Carolyn noticed that Eileen’s response to this question were her eyes filling with tears, which led to a deep and meaningful conversation between Carolyn and Eileen in which Carolyn assured Eileen that no one would be upset with her for being sick (Mamchur, 1981). This assurance led to Eileen confiding in Carolyn, inferring that her mother cannot support or help her due to sadness she feels. The supportive response she received from Carolyn upon the reveal of this information is probably one of the biggest learning experiences for Eileen—a learning experience that taught her to think about and care for herself.

Outcome. What was the outcome of the student in that environment? (Discuss changes in student in at least 2 dimensions)

Two changes Eileen underwent during her time in this environment were in her self-concept and in her abilities.

Regarding her self-concept, the time spent in this classroom positively impacted her for two main reasons, these reasons being both the helpful role she played to her peers in the classroom as well as being valued, respected, and truly known by Carolyn. The experience of being a helpful, positive figure within the classroom contributed to the changing of Eileen’s self concept because it gave her a sense of purpose and value within the class—even if she could not be entirely successful at a task, she knew she could still help others work towards their desired achievements. The presence of such a positive, trusting, and helpful adult in her life—Carolyn, positively contributed to the changing of Eileen’s self concept because Carolyn was able to let Eileen know that she is deserving of care and support, as well as allow Eileen to realize her worth—both in a classroom setting and on a personal level.

Eileen also experienced changes in her abilities as a result of this environment. One large change that is mentioned by Carolyn is Eileen’s involvement in organic teaching, in reference to Eileen helping a younger child count out their change correctly (Mamchur, 1981). Due to the group-like, non-traditional academic setting Carolyn designed that they had been learning in, the students, Eileen included, were able to initiate and participate in less traditional forms of learning and teaching.

Part II: Analysis of Carolyn (Teacher)’s Learning

Teacher input. What did the teacher come to the learning with? (Discuss at least 2 dimensions in details)

Carolyn came to the learning with many aspirations and values. In fact, the entire reason why Carolyn even found herself asking for volunteer work at that school was because of her aspirations and values.

Carolyn’s initial aspirations included going to Florida to obtain her Education Degree, but unplanned instances somewhat derailed her plan. This led her to develop different aspirations, eventually asking for volunteer work at a local school for Children with Special Needs. She then brought her aspirations within the school walls and let them show through a variety of creative, expressive ways—”In preparation for classes, I carefully braided my hair, weaving a bright scarlet ribbon through the strands. My nails matched my lipstick and I chose to wear a white dress splashed with small pink roses…” (Mamchur, 1981). Carolyn came to the learning with the aspiration of influencing this group of girls—not only through behavior modification, but on a personal level, as well. She was looking to be more than just the typical teacher and educator to this group and she succeeded through her usage of non-traditional teaching and learning styles, focusing more on experiencing what they were learning, rather than just reading and writing about it.

Carolyn’s values were reflected in what she taught and how she taught it. Yes, volunteered in a classroom setting where traditional, feminine behaviours were valued and taught, yet she did so in a non-traditional way that represented her own values and shared them with her students. For example, old-fashioned feminine activities were explored and completed, such as tea time, hair-braiding, and sewing. However, they were not explored in the typical, strict way we may imagine schools to run things. Carolyn’s values were brought in and really implemented through her non-traditional ways of teaching—such as letting the girls explore things such as sewing and hair-braiding, rather than forcing them to watch educational films or lessons on such activities.

Environment. What did we do together in the school to learn life skills? (Discuss at least one experience that has impacted Carolyn’s learning)

Carolyn may have taught Eileen and the rest of her students an abundance of useful life skills regarding etiquette throughout the year, but she did learning of her own, as well. Through the observing of and communication with Eileen, Carolyn learned important life skills, too. Despite being the student, Eileen was able to subconsciously teach Carolyn the key life skills of maintaining a positive and optimistic attitude even in the most difficult hardships. Carolyn’s way of learning was watching Eileen prevail through her pain, her illness, and her suffering. The experience that impacted Carolyn’s learning most was the watching of Eileen’s  consistent smiling, laughing, and praise of her classmates, all while suffering from chronic pain without letting a single complaint slip. Eileen’s determined attitude deeply impacted and inspired Carolyn, which is shown through Carolyn’s sending of a Christmas gift to Eileen.

Outcome. What was the outcome of the teacher in that environment? (Discuss changes in teacher in at least 2 dimensions)

The outcome of the teacher, Carolyn, in this environment was a very positive one. This environment provided unique teaching and learning experiences for both Carolyn as well as her students. At the end of the school year, she left this school for Children with Special Needs with an abundance of new abilities and knowledge (on a demographic of students who are often left behind and forgotten, especially back then).

After this experience in this learning environment, her teaching abilities had evolved and grown to best fit the needs of her students, thus providing her with a high-level experience before even leaving for her Degree in Florida. She was able to form relationships and deep connections with her students, resulting in bonds of trust that allowed the students to explore a variety of learning and teaching styles. This led to Carolyn’s recognition of organic teaching within her classroom, as demonstrated by Eileen when she helps a younger student count their change.

Another area where Carolyn experiences growth due to this learning environment is in her knowledge, both in her better understanding of disabilities due to this experience as well as her knowledge of the individual life experience of Eileen. Due to the trusting bond the two of them have built, Carolyn is able to gain insight and knowledge on who Eileen is as a person, her ailments, and the factors that cause her to behave the way she does, such as her mother’s sadness.

References

Mamchur, C. (1981). Educational Leadership, 39(2), 152.

Reflection

I included the Progress Log of Week 9 in my portfolio because it allowed me to explore my personal philosophy regarding education and teaching. The questions required deep thinking and deep reflection, which was useful for me, as it allowed me to revisit and remember the reasons as to why I am so passionate about becoming a teacher. The credo I constructed for this Progress Log is something I believe in to the core. Every word written really reflects my principles, values, and beliefs regarding teaching, education, learning, and the classroom. One of the reasons why I have always wanted to be a teacher throughout my life is because alongside providing education, I would like to provide my students with support, positivity, and care needed in order to ensure their success, as well. I believe students deserve better than what they have been given (especially students in the extremely underfunded public school system). I believe students deserve change. I also chose to include this Progress Log because it includes critiques I have regarding the Education system, as it is important to recognize, remember, and understand the flaws in this system and how these flaws affect learning, productivity, and behaviour in the classroom. I included Assignment 2: Grading and Motivation, as I really enjoyed the exploration into Eileen’s personal relationship with Carolyn’s and vice-versa. I am very passionate about the wellbeing of students and making the classroom a happy place to be, so this Assignment was very educational, informative, and beneficial to me. It was extremely heart-warming to read the story of how they inspired and motivated each other and it was inspiring to read of the positive impact Carolyn clearly had not only on Eileen, but on the class as a whole. Additionally, I really enjoyed being able to go through the text and make connections between Carolyn and Eileen’s input, environment, and outcome.

From this Module, I have learned of how personal beliefs impact your approach to teaching, education, and the classroom, as well as the importance of creating meaningful relationships with your students and what these relationships entail. Something this Module has done is allow me to explore my beliefs regarding education. This exploration has led me to a deeper understanding of my thoughts and feelings in relation to my personal philosophy towards teaching. This deeper understanding has been a huge learning moment in my understanding of why I want to teach. After the completion of this Module, I revisited the reasons why I want to teach, and I realize my reasons align perfectly with my credo. The focus of my credo is on improving the education system, understanding students and learning, and being an overall positive person and educator in their life. As someone who grew up in an underfunded inner-city public school, an environment that was unable to entirely align with this credo, I feel as though my experiences allowed me to see flaws and holes in the system from a young age. Revisiting these reasons and truly understanding the role they play in my beliefs as a prospective teacher has been a learning experience for me.

Something that challenged me in this Module was reading Carolyn’s story of Eileen. This challenged me because it forced me to consider and think about the physical ailments of students that may require them to have Special Needs within the classroom. Typically, when I think of accommodating students to make them comfortable in the class, I think about things that will accommodate and comfort them emotionally and mentally. Physical special needs of my students really are something I have failed to consider in the past, which also challenges me to analyze and reflect on how my privilege as an able-bodied person could lead me to be ignorant to the needs of others. However, after being presented with this text, I think about physical needs and what I will be able to do to satisfy these needs for my students. This Module challenged me because it forces me to challenge and change the image of a student in my head and allows us to see how our privilege affects our mindset. I consider myself an open person with little biases and little assumptions, yet the realization of how static the image of what a student is like both mentally and physically has challenged me to work harder in the unlearning of these assumptions, as I must be prepared for every type of student as a teacher.

I see growth in my passions and aspirations regarding the education system. After the completion of this Module, I have learned my goals extend beyond the classroom and school. I have always known that I wanted to teach because I wanted to create positive learning experiences and be a positive role model in students’ lives, but through the completion of this Module, I realize these goals and desires exist because of problems in the bigger picture. These goals and desires did not come out of nowhere, they exist because of things in the school system I disagree with, such as my disapproval of standardized testing and my first-hand experiences watching the education system fail students who I know deserved better. Another thing I see growth in is the way I think of my future students and classroom. Prior to the completion of this Module, I did not consider the possibility of having students with physical limitations in class. However, I now consider it with every aspect of the classroom, such as the classroom layout and group activities.

Overall, this Module taught me the importance of my credo, the role my beliefs will play in my classroom, and what it means to create safe, supportive, and accessible environments for all students. This Module has helped me to recognize the important role these factors play in the creation and upholding of a positive learning environment with little problems.

[thegoditwasbuiltfor]

Homeschooling

I first became a parent 16 years ago, in 2004.  When I was considering all the avenues available to benefit my parental style, I had briefly considered homeschooling, among other decisions such as only feeding my baby non-packaged foods I had prepared myself and using cloth diapers.  Like most parents, I was ambitious and wanted the best for my baby, and I was willing to jump through incredibly tiny, flaming hoops to make that happen.  However, as I went week by week, month by month with my eldest child through the stages of infancy, I quickly realized that some decisions, unlike others, were big steps in completely different directions, and many of these choices were unnecessarily exorbitant.

Lo and behold, I didn’t feed my baby only non-packaged foods (and I couldn’t have even if I wanted to; she didn’t particularly prefer my homemade foods to the ones that came in jars and boxes), I didn’t use cloth diapers, and I decided early on that homeschooling was for parents who had the privilege of staying home, which I did not.  It wasn’t that I considered any of those choices impossible to make happen, or even that I didn’t consider myself one of “those” kinds of parents--I did, and I do.  But the truth is, some things were just too difficult to make happen, and in some cases would have been detrimental to my finances and daily routine.  Long story short, I made the less-popular choice to favour my time and money.  Go ahead and call me an asshole.

For almost a decade, and two more kids later, the basic system of frugality and time-saving I had created for my family’s day-to-day life was working efficiently, like a well-oiled machine.  The kids had a routine that included going to daycare, before-and-after, and/or school.  And for the duration of the decade, my kids excelled in school, easily bringing home A’s and B’s without much trouble.  I can probably count on one hand the number of times I had to sit down and help a kid with homework.

So in 2013, when we were planning my son, I had no reason to think that my system wouldn’t continue to be effective for a further decade.  And when my son was born the following year, I had given less than 10 seconds thought to how his education would begin and end, because public schooling had always worked for us.  I returned to work within the year of his birth (and quit shortly after), I had a great time jumping from one daycare to another, including the part where I had to sue a provider.  By the time my son was in a comfortable childcare facility, the only question left was which of the many schools in the neighbourhood he would attend.

In the end, I let old habits take over.  I made an appointment at the school my eldest daughter had attended to have my son enrolled.  I vividly remember sitting him down at a table full of legos right outside the office as I filled out the paperwork.  I was handed a flyer for a Kindergarten “Meet and Greet” which was held a few weeks later, and we went on our way.  We met with the Kindergarten teacher and several other parents of school-aged children who would be starting at the same time as my boy.  The evening was a success, but of course my system had predictably ensured me of that.

When it was time to start school, my son was nervous (and so was I, does that ever get any easier?), but he marched in like the big boy that he is and didn’t even shed a tear.  He had a great day, and couldn’t wait to go back.  By the end of the week, he was praising his teacher as the greatest human being on Earth.  By the end of the month, half of the kids in his class were his “best friends” and he was thrilled, overall, with his experience.  By the time parent-teacher meetings rolled around in November, he was quite comfortable and knew his way around the place like he had been there his whole life.  His teacher had nothing but good things to tell me about his progress and behaviour.  All was well, as I had always expected it to be.

It was 2019, and we were home over Christmas break, enjoying some much-needed family time and we briefly discussed an illness sweeping through China.  Boy, were we in for a treat.

When school resumed, all went back to normal, and for 2 months, we had no issues.  Sometime before the new year, things were going so smoothly we had even added both swimming on Tuesdays, and Karate on Thursdays to our schedule.  In January, thinking I was ahead of the curve, I signed my son up for two more activities: Soccer in the spring, and Karate Camp over March break.

By February, as everyone in North America already knows, the proverbial shit had hit the fan: SARS-CoV-2 had reached us and was beginning to spread.  It’s spread began slowly, and I had not yet registered the thought that it was coming for Canada.  We went ahead with our daily lives like nothing had changed.  So I remember the confusion and general disbelief in March as the school had sent out letters stating that the government was considering a provincial shutdown of schools just ahead of Spring Break.  Teachers scrambled to put together take-home packages of work, and even though a date was set as the “last day” of school, mid-way through the week, less than half of the kids were showing up, and my son was one of only two students to attend over those last few days.  

I spoke with the other mom and we both agreed to keep our kids home over the remaining days, since no one else would be there, and I went back to the school the next day to pick up a work package.  At that time, the thought of homeschooling my son for a couple of extra weeks felt like child’s play.  I had no issue going over simple words and math, reading, and playing games for a while.  

Eventually Spring Break simply became the end of the school year, children did not reattend at all for the remainder of the year, and some teachers had put together remote learning programs.  Since my son was in Kindergarten, I wasn’t terribly worried about it, I figured everything would be back to normal by the following school year.  For the second time in my carefully-cultivated plan, I was wrong.

We spent our summer in the usual way: trips to the beach, birthdays, playdates, and camping.  We were being cautious and avoided spending time with too many people, but at that time the numbers were still very low.  Back then, everything was still open, people were still coming and going without issue and the spread of Covid simply didn’t exist in my province.  We wore masks and socially distanced when we went out, but the threat of catching the virus was minimal, we had fewer than 10 cases province-wide and no deaths.  And those numbers had held for several months.

By August 2020, our numbers had climbed exponentially and there was no going back.  It was then that my husband spoke to us about being extra careful.  He encouraged me to do as much of my shopping as possible online, and to simply avoid leaving the house at all.  It became clear that we could no longer see our friends, go to the park, have a shopping day at the mall, or even go in-store to buy groceries.  My son and I were shut in, isolated from everyone, and quite suddenly it was like our world had gone dark.  In the coming months, we couldn’t even visit with family, we cancelled Halloween and Christmas, and New years.  But before even those things, the biggest change in both our lives was the sudden realization that he would not be returning to school at all.

August brought not only high numbers of infection, but also the seemingly unavoidable fact that I would be homeschooling my son.  The numbers were getting higher, but the Government of Canada was already tired of shelling out the CERB payment and it was becoming clear that businesses were expected to reopen and children were expected to return to school as if nothing was wrong.  Though the Government was preaching safety, their reopening plan felt very flawed, and by this point I was terrified of anyone in my family getting sick.  I didn’t want to expose my little boy to a virus that would almost certainly kill him, being an asthmatic child, and having a history of being sickly.

I contacted the school in the final weeks of August to ask them what their options were, regarding Covid, and if, like other schools, they were offering some sort of remote learning.  The school informed us that remote learning was reserved for children who were ill and had a doctor’s note, but since I was not leaving the house to get said note, we would not be able to provide this.  I simply decided the best course of action would be to prepare for homeschooling.  I had no idea how to do this, since I had decided some 15 years previous to simply not do it, and I didn’t have a clue where to begin.  Searching up as much information as I could, I found out that registering your child with the government as “homeschooled” was a good first step, so I did that.  I also researched some programs online that would offer curriculum-based education and some books for children in my son’s grade.  

I learned that there is virtually no support, outside of the odd website here and there with a handful of basic assignments or worksheets, for parents who homeschool.  The curriculum was confusing and I had no friends who homeshooled so I didn’t have anyone to ask.  There was no simple answer.  I literally went into this with very little planning, and no idea what the hell I was doing.  I bought a workbook on Amazon and paid for a couple of programs.  At the time, I felt like I had done everything in my power to prepare my son for a successful grade 1 year, and initially still believed that we would return to school within a couple of months.  The “flatten the curve” ideal was nice, and I clung to it, like a drowning person to a life preserver.  For a third time, I was wrong.

By December, we were already running out of work to do, I was out hundreds of dollars for paper, ink, supplies, books, and programs, and I was hitting a wall.  The holidays put me in a terrible place, mentally and emotionally, and I crashed.  I had a breakdown and struggled to hold on to the motivation to continue teaching my son at home.  Though we were still spending the week doing schoolwork, it really felt like we spent most of our days distracted, watching TV, going for short walks, and playing video games.  Lunch break had stretched over those few months from 30 minutes into several hours, some days, and often I would just declare the day dead, and give up.  My son’s motivation was also waning, despite his young age, he simply didn’t have much interest in writing a journal entry or playing one of the learning games I was shelling out a monthly fee for.  

At one point, I decided we would take a month off to enjoy a nice long break, and hit the books hard when we came back.  Our recommencing was soft and bleak, to no surprise.  Even though the work was interesting and full of information, the book was colourful and fun, even though I added a mandatory “Hump Day, Fun Day” each week where we would do a craft or have a scavenger hunt, even though my son’s work was good and showed he was learning--we were just tired.  We were tired of staying home, we were tired of never seeing any of our friends or family, we were tired of just doing the same crap over and over again everyday.  It had become monotonous and exhausting for either of us to keep it up.

By February, we had become resigned to our task and were doing the work involved, and were maybe feeling a bit better, but we weren’t any more enthusiastic about it.  We had finished most of the workbook and were practically spending the whole day reading.  The truth is, my son already has most of the grade 1 skills laid out in the curriculum, so teaching him really wasn’t even difficult.  But by this point, I had accepted that homeschooling, while possible, was not my skillset and I had no intention of continuing this into 2022.  As an old dog, learning this new trick was too difficult.  Even with Covid raging, as it still is now, in March, I have made the difficult decision to go back to an almost-normal life.

Discussing this with my son proved frightening to him, but I told him that the cases in our country really don’t show a lot of little kids getting terribly sick and that I really didn’t think it was a risk for him.  I also decided that part of the issue is the fact that I have never been well-suited to being a stay at home mom, which I have now been doing against my better judgement for most of 7 years.  My son is very attached to me, and I love that, but it was time for him to discover other people and places a while ago, and realizing that Covid is deterring him (and myself) from living a normal life has been a big pill to swallow.  While I still have a great appreciation and understanding of how dangerous this virus is, I decided that my son is returning to school for grade 2 in the fall, and I will be returning to work.  

In the meantime, we are taking small steps to increase our exposure to the world.  We have been isolated for so long that even a simple walk around the block sometimes has us feeling stuffy and unwell the next day, and we have to retrain our immune systems not to overreact to everything outside of our house.  We have resumed seeing one friend and several family members, despite restrictions.  I’m sure some people will consider this inappropriate, and I understand that.  But after everything that has happened over the following year, including several deadly events and a case of Covid for my 87 year old grandmother (whom I could not see or even speak to), I am not losing anymore time with my family.  I am not jumping in with both feet and eyes closed, I am taking careful steps to ensure safety and I am being cautious, still wearing a mask and socially distancing.  But I have decided that this life of loneliness is not okay long-term for me or my son, and I have no intention of living like a hermit crab for the rest of my life, and my son having no friends or outside connections going into his next years of life.  Sorry, but not sorry.

For the first few months, the constant stream of news on my television promised “we will get through this,” and “we will flatten the curve.”  But I have come to the realization that Covid is here to stay.  We didn’t follow the protocols (worldwide) quickly enough to eradicate this illness, and as a result there is no “going back to normal”, we have to accept that this is our “new normal”, as has been stated almost constantly, but I don’t know that everyone is really on the same page as to what that means.  I still see and hear people talking about “when things go back to normal” as if the “new normal” is temporary.  I’m not here writing this shit to convince anyone else, just stating that I am personally decided that I have to go ahead in my own life, and allow my son to go ahead in his, armed with the idea that things will never be like they were before, and that trying to fight this the way we were doing, by literally never seeing anyone or going anywhere, was a great solution for a while and now it’s not.

In closing, I am hopeful of my future, I have plans I want to put into action and I am hoping we are not going to be permanently inconvenienced by Covid, but ultimately, I can’t wait to start living my life again, even with the mask and sanitizer glued to me at all times.  I intend to enjoy the rest of this year, even in small amounts, and I hope everyone else stays safe and does the same.  Understanding that Covid will not be gone anytime soon, even with this vaccine, we have to learn to live in this new life.

[siodymph]

Science Bros Day 7

And here it is! Last prompt! This whole week has been such a blast! Honestly it really rekindled my love for science bros, I didn’t realize how much I missed writing for these two! And now this week has even inspired me to flesh out my day 4 prompt into a full fic! And it’s wonderful to read some many different stories and see such cute art everywhere again! You guys are just so great and wicked talented!

And while “Yours” may be the last official prompt, I’m still going strong, and will begin publishing some of the request that I’ve received. And if there’s any ideas you’d like to see me write feel free to send them my way! I’ll keep going till the 21st !

You can read this story under the cut or on my AO3! Hope you enjoy!

word count: 4058

It was a Monday morning and the Banner/Stark family was getting ready for a new day and a new week.

Bruce had several of his lectures this late morning until the afternoon and a few labs in the evening so it would be a full day for him. Tony was organizing all his blueprints, his research, to bring it all back to work with him. And their two oldest had school. It had become a ritual of sorts when they had the time in the morning for Tony and Bruce both to go see them off at school before going their separate ways to their own jobs. Bruce got two lunches together as well as one for himself while everyone went about their morning routines in the kitchen.

Tony had their youngest kid, little Kennedy, in one arm as he brought several holographic blueprints all around their kitchen back into a tablet with the other hand. Bruce always loved the awestruck look Kennedy would get on her face, entranced by all of her Daddy’s holographic work. Today she would be going with Tony to work over in the Stark industries. Tony’s reasoning was always that having a cute little tike in the room made it surprisingly easy to make deals and get through long-winded meetings but Bruce always had a feeling he did it just because he liked to bring her with him to work.

Ramona, their oldest at 11, had her nose in her workbook. Just like her adoptive fathers she was brilliant, but especially like Tony she had a bad habit of putting off busy-work she didn’t like till the literal last minute. So she scribbled out a half-assed homework assignment for her English class as she drank a bowl of cereal straight from the bowl, forgoing a spoon as she hurried.

And their middle child at 9 and only boy, Aiden, came quietly down the stairs. He seemed upset about something. He barely made a peep as he poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down next to his sister. Bruce wanted to ask him what was wrong but he had learned with Aiden if you were too sudden or direct with him, he’d shut down. So Bruce stayed back and waited. Aiden would open up in his own time. When he did speak up, Bruce made sure to let him know he was listening.

He came over Bruce and leaned heavily onto his side. “Hey Papa? Can I skip school today? I don’t feel good.”

Near instantly Bruce brought his hand to feel Aiden’s forehead. He felt fine, no fever. But he did still seem really upset about something. After several mishaps it had become a family rule to only ask Bruce to miss school. Tony would always say yes and let the kids go to work with him instead. And while both of them had crappy experiences with the American School system, Bruce still wanted their kids to at least try going to school. As long as nothing was wrong of course.

“I’m not sick.” Aiden admitted honestly. “I just don’t feel good.”

“Well then how do you feel?” Bruce tried gently.

“I don’t know. Bad? I just want to miss school for one more day, please Papa?”

Bruce wanted to say yes. But he also wanted to understand. There wasn’t much he could do for Aiden unless he knew what was hurting his son. “Maybe. Can you explain why you don’t want to go to school?”

“You remember Thursday?”

“Yes.” Last Thursday Bruce had to go meet Aiden at the principal’s office after he got in a fight with a kid in the fourth grade. He hadn’t hurt him badly but still made an awfully strong impression on the kid, all his friends and his very angry mother.

“All Friday I kept seeing him. We didn’t fight but I could hear them laughing when I wasn’t looking. I felt really mad all day.”

Bruce felt himself getting mad but he tried not to show it. “Do you want me to go in and talk to your Principal about it?”

“No!” Aiden shouted, panicked. “They don’t actually mess with me. They’re too scared to now. If they got in trouble things would only get worse…”

Sadly Bruce could understand that, in 30 years the public education system still impossibly mishandled bullying in their schools.

“This whole weekend though I didn’t see him. I felt fine. And I want to feel fine today too.”

“Aiden.” Bruce said sighing. No way in hell he’d ever put his children in harm’s way. But he hated to think that a place meant for him to learn and grow had become a place he hated. A lot like himself. “Aiden? You know we’re really alike, you and me. I had a lot of anger issues when I was a little older than you.”

“So what did you do?” Aiden asked.

Bruce tried to think back on his own experience, something that would help Aiden understand. “Well, it doesn’t just disappear, your emotions. It’s healthy to let things go but sometimes it’s hard to know if you’re really letting something go, or if you’re just swallowing it down. Letting it bottle up inside you. If that makes any sense at all.”

“I guess. Our teacher always is telling us to forgive and move on.”

“She’s coming from the right place. But sometimes it’s hard to just drop the way you feel. Even if everyone around you assumes you should. And it’s ok. You’re allowed to feel upset about a situation or a person.” Bruce continued, not wanting to give Aiden the wrong idea. “However, it’s not fair to act out on the way you feel just because you’re upset and no one else is. You can defend yourself, but it’s not nice to hurt others deliberately.”

“I know that, Papa. I just don’t want to feel so bad all the time.”

“Well I found the best thing to do is talk to people. Talk to someone you trust about the way you feel. Or if you don’t feel comfortable talking you could try keeping a journal. You could write in it whenever you’re upset and when a problem you have is resolved. Finding an outlet to channel your emotions into can be very helpful. Do you understand Aiden?”

“Yeah Papa.”

“Do you still want to miss school for today?”

“… Can I? Just for today.”

Bruce sighed in defeat. “Hey Tony, you got room for another kid today?”

“Always do!” Tony said beaming and ruffling up Aiden’s hair. “I can take you down to the workshop when Kennedy’s taking her nap. That’s how you really learn, working out in your field, gaining experience! Hey Ramona!”

“Tony no-“

“You wanna skip school too? We can do a field trip!”

Ramona considered it, but in the end she shook her head and shoved her homework into her book bag. “I can’t. I have a spelling test.”

“Well you know if you’re sick on a test day, you can always take it the next day. And you get an extra 24 hours to study.”

“Tony!”

“I’m kidding!” Tony said, kissing Bruce on the cheek as he collected up his laptop and scooped up Kennedy back into his arms. “You sure sweetie?”

“Yeah I’m good.” Ramona said, strapping on her backpack.

“Alright. We’ll drop you off at school, then we’ll head out to work.” Everyone began grabbing their things and heading for the front hall. And Bruce took a tiny moment just to watch them go. Smiling. He had a family. Bruce Banner truly had a family.

Tony gave him a teasing look, swinging the front door open rather dramatically. “Hello? You coming big guy? We don’t have all day!”

“Yeah, I’m coming!” He said, looking down and grabbing his keys before leaving for the day.

Bruce was ready to follow them all out the door when something strange happened. And the illusion began to crack.

Bruce!

He could hear Tony saying something. When Bruce looked up, he was already down the hall with the kids. But his voice sounded like it was directly in front of him.

“Bruce? Are you feeling alright?”

Bruce! Bruce, come on! You gotta snap out of it!

Tony’s voice was right there in his face, and it sounded so different. Frantic, maybe even scared. And he knew the truth was there. Standing in plain sight. A part of Bruce had known the whole time. An inkling in the back of his mind. He’d just hoped it had been a trick. That he was just feeling paranoid over nothing.

But he was fast realizing the truth. And everything began slowly fading away.

He felt himself stumbling back. He needed to get out of here. But he never wanted to leave!

“Papa?” Aiden and Sophia looked at him with eyes full of fear. Kennedy started crying.

Come on! I know you can break out of this!

He wanted this to be real. He felt like he was being torn apart. Please, just let him keep this.

BRUCE!

But he couldn’t. Because Bruce Banner didn’t have a house in the city with houseplants in every room and garden boxes in every window. Bruce Banner didn’t have an esteemed position with one of the biggest universities in the country. Bruce Banner didn’t have a healthy hold on his emotions. Bruce Banner didn’t have kids. And he never would have kids because it was too dangerous. Bruce Banner had horrible powers and many people wanted him caged or dead.

And as Tony and their children raced towards Bruce, he felt like he was falling backwards. He looked at them all one last time and closed his eyes.  

When he opened his eyes again it was all gone.

  He was lying on his back. On an alien planet. And Tony was right there, staring down at him and looking extremely relieved.

“Thank god, knew you could do it!”

Bruce let Tony pull him upright. There was a migraine pulsing in the front of his head but he still forced himself to wake up. All around them it seemed like other members of their group were in similar states. Some recovering with headaches, others still lost is some sort of trance. The red aura of the Scarlet Witch was hovering over everyone. “What the hell happened?”

He remembered everyone being split into two groups. Bruce was in one and Tony was in the other. And from the looks of it something had gone horribly wrong in Bruce’s team.

“We’re not 100% sure yet. But from what we collected, one of Thanos’s lackys got into Wanda’s head and used her powers against her. It’s like she was hacked. Those alien guys are still trying to calm her down.”

Bruce could see the Scarlet Witch several yards away. She was completely trapped in her own powers. Eyes glowing a bloody, deep red and she was openly sobbing. She was crying out incoherently and Bruce could make out her brother’s name in her words. She was completely unaware of the people surrounding her, trying to help her. One of the alien woman with a set of antenna on her head grabbed Wanda’s arm and began crying too.

“Pepper told me everything she knew. Wanda was showing everyone in your group their desires. Like the really big stuff. And from the look of it she’s been seeing her own desires too.”

His desires… It truly was an illusion. Just a trick of the mind. None of it was real.

“Hey Bruce? You ok?”

Bruce? Are you feeling alright?

It would never be real.

He found himself getting up fast. Tony was at his side asking him if he was really alright to keep going. Bruce said he was. But he couldn’t look directly at Tony. Whenever he did he kept seeing flashes of that other Tony sketching out some blueprints in a kitchen. Or that other Tony holding their kids by the hand. Tony actually relaxed, truly happy and utterly carefree. A Tony that wasn’t real, couldn’t be real. At least not the Tony he knew right now.

But he couldn’t afford to let that distract him any more than it had. Their team was in trouble and needed his help. Now.

So he tried to swallow down the turmoil of feelings coursing through him. Tony tried to talk to them as they went but Bruce couldn’t bring himself to truly listen to him. He still couldn’t look at him. He felt like he was lagging behind his body a few steps. Everything was going so slow and they had work to do. He and Tony went separate ways to try reviving as many of their teammates and friends as they could. And as they all came back to their senses, regrouped and prepared to head out, Bruce’s mind and heart refused to go numb.

Bruce isolated himself as much as he could once they were on the Guardians’ ship. Some sort of small storage space. He needed to be alone. He needed to find a way to shut his brain off.

Every time he closed his eyes he could still see it. The house. The kitchen. Tony with the kids. God, his kids. That had to of been the cruelest part of all.

He just wanted to forget the whole thing. Stop thinking entirely. But his mind wouldn’t stop. Nothing he did would make it stop. He couldn’t let the image go, it was seared into his mind. And his brain kept going and going, it felt like white static in his skull.

When he heard someone come to the door he was ready to snap at them to leave him alone. Just give him a minute! But he held the words back when he saw it was one of the alien women, Mantis. In the time Bruce had gotten to know the Guardians he’d learned Mantis was a well-meaning but shy and soft-spoken person. And he’d feel bad for yelling at her for no reason. So instead, as she stepped into the small storage space he’d let her come in.

“Hello. Mantis, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” She said. Bruce had been willing to let her in, but when she sat down on the floor across from him he tensed. “Are you ok? You stormed off after the attack. Many people seemed concerned about you. Especially with the whole mind-manipulation you were caught under.”

“I’m fine. I just needed some time alone. To get my head on straight. I’ll be alright in a couple minutes.” Bruce said, trying to gently get Mantis to leave.

But instead, much to his dismay, Mantis didn’t seem to pick up on his suggestion and scootched a little closer towards him. Looking rather excited for someone sitting on the floor of a storage unit with Bruce Banner. “Perhaps I can be of assistance then!”

“Uh thanks, but that’s not necessary-” Bruce tried, but Mantis quickly brushed him off.

“No. You see, this is the sort of situation my powers were made for! I have the ability to feel another’s emotions. To help others understand! All I need to do is touch their skin with my hand and I can know them. I can do this for you! If you’re willing of course.”

She held her hand towards Bruce and he thought it over. The idea of someone knowing exactly how he felt seemed very invasive to him. And usually he handled his own emotions himself where he couldn’t bother, upset or hurt anyone else.

And yet despite that he still found himself rolling up his jacket and offering his arm to Mantis. Curiosity was a cursed thing.

As soon as Mantis’s hand touched his shoulder she doubled over shuddering. Bruce feared for the worst when he saw her antenna began to glow green and she drew a shuddering breath. But she didn’t grow any worse than that and slowly pulled herself back up.

“Oh… Oh my goodness…” Mantis gasped, trying to compose herself. She looked back to Bruce looking like she was about to either start sobbing or screaming. But she kept talking in between shaky breaths. “You’re mourning a dream. You’re yearning for something, but it’s so painful! It’s broken your heart so many times. But it still aches. And it infuriates you so. It’s… It’s so much!”

She pulled her hand away and hugged it on her chest as if it had been burned. It took all of Bruce’s willpower not to get up and leave when Mantis turned towards him with such pity.

“Do you feel like that all the time?”

Bruce shrugged, trying to ignore that direct look. “Not all the time. Not as often.”

“Oh…” Mantis said. She looked like she wanted to touch Bruce again, but she pulled her hand back. “I’m sorry you feel like that Bruce. That hurt.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your doing.”

“I understand. But I still wish I could help more. You’re feeling so many different emotions at once.”

Mantis didn’t continue right away. She paused for a moment, trying to collect her own thoughts. And a weird-feeling silence took up the space before Mantis worked together what exactly she wanted to say. “There was some strange things in your feelings. I sensed a great loneliness in you. But not only that, you had this acceptance for loneliness too… Perhaps you should go talk to some of your friends? I know you hold a lot of compassion for them and they care for you too. The woman with red hair, the woman with red hair who’s also molten hot, the man with lightning. And especially the Iron Man.”

“Ok that’s starting to sound more like mind-reading.” Bruce said accusingly.

“Oh, no. I didn’t pick that last part up in your feeling. No, I saw it seeing you and your friends’ battle and in the aftermath.” Mantis added. “Many of them did seemed worried about you.”

Bruce sighed. He was beginning to wonder if Thor and the others pushed Mantis to come in here to try and help him. He rubbed at his face. “Ok. Well can you go tell them I’ll be out soon? I just need a little more time. Alone.”

This time Mantis accepted what he was saying. And with a quiet “Of course” She got up and made her way back into the hallway.

“Thanks for your help.”

Mantis stopped before leaving completely, confused. “I don’t understand. I got so overwhelmed when I tried to read you. I wasn’t able to help you.”

“You did try. And even if it’s not everything, it was… nice, I guess, to put a name to some of this… stuff.” Bruce offered, and gestured to his head as he spoke.

Hopefully that had been the right thing to say. Mantis straightened up a little and smiled from the door.

“Ok. I’ll leave you be for now then. Are you going to speak with anyone else?”

“I will, don’t worry. I think I’ll go talk with Tony later. Iron Man.” He owed his boyfriend that much. He was a huge part of the vison after all. And he’d been avoiding him for half-an-hour now because every time he looked at his he was reminded of that fake Tony in his dream. He owed him an explanation at least.

He finally left the room after a few more moments alone. As he walked through the ship he saw the damage done. Today’s attack had hit harder than any physical tactic waged against them. Moral had plummeted. And Bruce felt helpless as he saw the state of everyone in his group. Nat seemed like she still might be in a trance, she starred numbly out a window at the stars. One of the Gaurdians, Gamora, sat by her side giving her an understanding look but didn’t say anything. Thor acknowledged him as he passed but his lips were firmly pressed into a tight frown and his hand clutched at a hammer no longer there. Several people were still crying. Wanda especially so. And Mantis was going from person to person, trying to help people the best she could. Giving council to those willing to accept it.

He found Tony down in the workshop-station. The one run by an ornery but brilliant raccoon. But Rocket wasn’t in there at the moment. Nobody else but Tony. He was hard at work repairing one his busted gauntlets on the Iron Man suit.

Bruce knocked on the wall as he came in, “Uh, hi?”

“Hey you!” Tony called out in a slightly forced voice as he looked up from his gauntlet. He pulled off a pair of goggles so he could see him better. “What’s up?”

“I was just looking for you. Everyone seems really… worn from today’s fight.” Bruce said.

Tony sighed and began to let that front he’d first put on slide. “Yeah. Looks like our buddy Thanos isn’t above psychological warfare. Are you doing ok? Cause everyone was forced to see some pretty messed-up stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m ok enough. That’s… That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. My vision.” Bruce came closer and sat by Tony’s side.

“You don’t have to tell me what you saw if you don’t want to, Bruce.”

“I know…” Bruce said. Tony didn’t respond so Bruce kept going. “I didn’t have my powers… We had a family. We were all eating breakfast. They were getting ready for school.”

He watched as Tony’s closed his eyes and rubbed at his eyelids. “Shit. I’m sorry Bruce.”

“It’s not your fault. It was my own mind that was manipulated.”

“But I know how much you like kids…”

He heard Tony sigh. And neither of them said anything. He quietly turned to look more closely at him. The real Tony Stark. In the florescent lighting and his own exhausted state, Tony almost looked ashen. And with them fighting every day Tony’s hair had gone a long time without any dye and had really started greying along the sides. He was thinking hard about something. Probably overthinking. And whatever it was it wasn’t good from the way he looked towards his broken gauntlet with such a resigned acceptance.

“… Do you think we could ever do that? I mean, if we somehow manage to survive all this and save the world. You think when we get back to earth, we could ever do that?”

Bruce didn’t know what to say. Yes. He’d wanted something like that for years, decades now. He’d always wanted to be a father. But he would never be able to give them a safe home. Any kid they might take in might always be in trouble just being in proximity of him. And that was even if any adoption agency would ever like the likes of them adopt kids. But he had finally mastered his powers, he found peace with the other part of himself. But there were also so many other obstacles in their way than his own powers.

“I don’t know. I’m really sorry. I want to but I just don’t know.”

He felt Tony, gently hug his shoulders. And he spoke softly. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s alright. Honestly. I mean, who even knows if we’ll ever get back to earth!”

Tony laughed, but there was a grim look in his eyes. And Bruce found himself mirroring back that sad, sort of humor. “We don’t even know if we’ll live long enough to see the end of this war.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So I’m gonna say this. And I’ll probably tell you every day we’re still alive cause I’m dramatic like that, you know.” Tony said, he held Bruce by both so hid shoulders so they were looking face to face. Then slowly moved closer as he spoke until their foreheads were touching.

“No matter what happens I’m staying right here. I’ve never regretted choosing to be with you and I never will. I love you, Bruce Banner. I’m yours.”

Bruce pressed his lips softly against Tony’s trying to convey everything he was feeling. And he felt Tony smiling against him as he pulled away.

“And just in case you wanted a reminder. This? This right here? This is real.”

“Yeah… I hoped so.”

[reesebird]

New Post has been published on https://reesebird.com/2019/01/19/raising-christian-children-part-4-plan-family-activities-that-include-your-children/

Raising Christian Children Part 4: Plan Family Activities That Include Your Children

Raising Christian Children Part 4: Plan Family Activities That Include Your Children

It may just be me, but it seems as though times have changed so much since the last generation of parents raised their children. It is so disheartening to see, read, and hear about children committing crimes are younger; children without both parents in the home more common. What is happening to our society?

I read a transcript of a sermon by the Rev. Billy Graham from a message given about 20 years ago. In that message he outlined six steps that is followed would help keep children from getting into trouble. In this series of articles I am covering each of those six steps. I do hope that you will follow each article and I further hope that these articles will bless you and your family as you strive to raise christian children. Here is Step #4.

Plan Family Activities That Include Your Children

It is amazing to me that families are doing less activities that include the children. The parents seem to be just as socially active, but baby sitters are being hired more and more to take care of children while the parents pursue their desire to “get away”. Are we to believe that they mean by this that they want to “get away” from their children? Unfortunately, the answer is a resounding YES!. How sad. And we wonder why families grow further apart as the children age.

When parents realize that they are getting away from involving their children in family activities they will realize that the main reason is their attitude towards raising children. When they brought their children into this wonderful world, they brought along with them the responsibility to give their children the very best of themselves. To give to their children the love and attention they so deserve and at the same time give them a family that does things together. Please don’t mistake activities to mean, as one mother expressed to me, “Our family does everything together: my husband takes my son to soccer practice three days a week; I take my oldest daughter to dance classes every week; and five days a week my husband drops our baby off at day care and I pick her up. We do everything together.” No, I didn’t give her a definition of “together”, I was too shocked to even respond to her statement. But hopefully, those reading this article are in agreement with me that this example does not meet the definition of a family doing activities that involve the children that is referred to in this article.

Proverbs 22:6 – Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. Here Solomon issues a bold challenges, particularly to those who are parents and instructors of children, to the propagating of wisdom, that it may not die with them. Train up children to prepare them for what they are designed for. Train them up, not in the way they WOULD go, but in the way they SHOULD go, the way in which, if you love them, you would have them go. It is true that many children indeed have departed from the good way in which they were trained up; Solomon himself did so. But the early training they received from their parents may be a means of their recovering themselves, as it is supposed Solomon did. At least the parents will have the comfort of knowing they have done their duty and used the appropriate means.

In planning activities that include your children your should first, consider the developmental levels of your children, then plan your activities based on individual maturity level. You can try more challenging activities to encourage them to progress, but remember that you want them to be successful at the activities. You certainly do not want them to get frustrated or bored with the activity. Also remember that your goals for each of your children may be very different. Family activities may be either 1) activities in and around the home or 2) activities that are part of a vacation. Either way, planning those activities for and with your children will make them feel more an integral art of the family.

Here are some suggested activities that we found both fun and beneficial for our children.

Activities In And Around The Home When planning activities in and around the home it will require some sacrifices of time on the part of everyone in the family. Mom and Dad (assuming both work) are usually tired by the time they get home from work, eat dinner (supper for those of you in the south) and hopefully have a little time to relax. But your number one priority should still be your children. Why not set some evenings of the week for family activities (other than taking your kids to sports practice, dance lessons, music lessons, etc.)?

The number of children you have and their ages will dictate what activities will work best for your family. The listed examples we what we used for our family which included three children: 12-year old son, 8-year old son, and 4-year old daughter.

We planned our family evening activities around our children’s activity schedules and usually had two or three nights a week for family fun. Ideally, every night could be used for some type of family activity, but that is not being realistic in today’s busy world. For this article let us assume that you do have every evening available for a family activity is case your are blessed.

In our family, Wednesday night was set aside for church service. During the school year, we had to be very flexible. Not every activity had all the kids involved due to various amounts of homework. During summer vacation time, more consistency in full participation was possible. Exception: our 12-year old was the star pitcher on his baseball team and they played several night a week until the All-Star team lost in the regional tournament. Here is a sample of our family activities in and around the home would ideally be:

Monday evenings: Family Scrapbook Night We put a lot of value in keeping our family scrapbooks. We had a separate scrapbook for each child and one for the family (we also had a scrapbook that was reserved for our family history: genealogy research). This may seem like “over kill” to some, but now that our children are grown, those scrapbooks are priceless to them. As each child left home, they took their individual scrapbook with them. We kept the “family” scrapbook and it stays on our living room coffee table as a proud reminder of our children’s lives from birth to present. We are still adding pages: GRANDCHILDREN!

Tuesday evenings: Family Game Night Our family really enjoyed game night. It gave us as parents a way to teach our children the importance of being both a good loser and a good winner. We live in a competitive world and as our children enter into that competitive world they need to be prepared for winning and losing and how to handle both in a christian manner. We would choose games that would involve our 4-year old. She loved Skip Bo as she loved to count. Yahtzee was another game that gave our 4-year old lots of enjoyment. Our boys even enjoyed picking up the dice when she would throw them across the table and onto the floor. Lots of good laughs: lots of fun for all.

Wednesday evenings: Church Night Where we attend church they have classes divided up in age groups so each of our children have their own class to attend where they not only grow their faith, but grow many friendships.

Thursday evenings: Food Fight Night Just kidding, but hopefully I have your attention now. Thursday evenings we work together as a family in the preparation of a special meal that has been planned (the week before) by our children. We allow them to decide the menu for a four-course meal and then we divide up the preparation appropriately. For example, we do not our 4-year old to handle hot items like boiling water or deep frying. (I guess I just have a dislike for emergency rooms.) One of the kids favorite menus was: 1st course of an appetizer (in this case cheese bread; 2nd course of mixed salad; 3rd course of spaghetti and meatballs; 4th course Italian doughnuts “Sfinci”. Assignments: 1st course – our 8-year old; 2nd course – My wife and our 4-year old (talk about your “tossed” salad); 3rd course – me and our 12-year old (he really got good at meatballs!); 4th course – everybody. When meal preparation was over the kitchen did indeed look like we had a food fight. Great fun except for when it came time for clean up. But again, a great teaching tool for seeing a task through to completion.

Friday evenings: Football Game/Family Reading Night During football season, we would go as a family to the local school’s football game. On the Friday evenings that the team was out of town we had our family reading time. We encouraged our children to read not only during this time, but whenever they had some free time. We would allow our children to chose a book to read and then involve everyone who could read to take their turn reading. As the years have passed we look back on our reading nights as special night of bonding as a family. Many of the books we read came from “Hooked On Phonics” material. We were very impressed with the entire “Hooked On Phonics” program. It deserves most of the credit for developing the reading skills in our children and their developing a love of reading.

Saturdays: Arts & Crafts /Community Service Day As a family we are arts minded. My wife is an excellent artist, I have performed as a member of several symphony orchestras. We encourage our children to pursue their individual interests in the arts. One project we used to lead into activities that are part of a vacation is the creation of a Family Vacation Savings Box. We used a “cigar” box with our kids, but I have not seen a cigar box in years, so any sturdy box about the size of a cigar box should work fine. We decorated the box with pictures of the places we want to visit on our next family vacation. We tape it shut and cut a slot in the top. As a family we developed several strategies for having money available to actually place in our savings box. One that my 8-year old suggested was to take the money we saved using coupons for food purchases. He had helped his mother cut out lots of coupons so it is easy to see why he would suggest this. His mother and I agreed. Our 12-year old placed half of what he earned mowing lawns in the neighborhood. He currently is the leading salesman for a cell phone company and his experience early might have lead to this success. He informed all his customers how he was using half his earnings for helping with the family vacation fund and his client list grew over the years. Challenge your children to help save for the family vacations. You will be as amazed as we were how much more enjoyable the family vacations became.

As a family we are community service minded. Through our church we volunteer as a family to visit nursing homes, help with church and community events, and help many elderly or handicapped church members who need assistance with various tasks such as mowing lawns, cleaning their home, or preparing a healthy meal and taking it to their home. We wanted our children to grow to be caring and unselfish individuals. As we look back at those times we realize how close we became as a family because of our participating as a family in these activities. At first our children were not excited about “helping” other people, but after a very short time, the attitude changed. After each volunteering activity we would have a family meal at a local restaurant. We used the time during the meal to discuss how it made each of us feel to do what we had done. Our children would always mention “warm fuzzy” as a feeling after seeing the smile on the faces of the people we assisted. When we finally returned home we all felt a sense of accomplishment. Of all our volunteer activities, visiting nursing homes was our most memorable. You could see the appreciation in the faces of those wonderful people with whom we were privileged to spend some time getting to know.

Sundays: Church was our primary activity every Sunday. Being able to attend the church of our choice as a family gave spiritual strength to us as individuals and as a family. Worshiping together with our friends was a special time for our family. A time of spiritual growth and appreciation for each other as part of a loving and caring family. After most Sunday services we either had been invited to one of our friends’ homes for lunch or we had invited guests to join us at our home for lunch. Either way, it was a continuation of sharing with other people with like interests and our children strengthened friendships with our guests children. Sundays were truly a blessed day for our entire family.

Activities That Are Part Of A Vacation

So as not to turn this post into the length of a major novel, I will just simply state that the planning of our vacations were done by everyone in our family. It was our goal as parents to choose a vacation location that could be fun for every member of the family. We never had unlimited funds for vacations, but you would have thought by the stories our children tell of our trips that we did. The “Family Vacation Savings Box” money was dedicated to our children’s entertainment and their souvenir purchases. Also, to conserve funds, we tried to plan a vacation route that would include areas where we could visit relatives. (Our adult children now refer to our vacations as “Family Tree Vacations”) This served a dual purpose: saved us money on motels and gave us time to visit with family members we had not seen in several years. As an added plus we could also gather updates for our family history scrapbook.

We live in what is referred to as the Midwest section of the United States. Most of our family live in Tennessee, Oklahoma, and Texas. Two of our favorite destinations were Nashville, Tennessee and San Antonio, Texas. We had numerous activity choices in both. When we went to Nashville, we routed through Kansas City as our 12-year old was a fan of the Kansas City Royals baseball team. So, he wanted to go to a baseball game. Our 8-year old was taking guitar lessons, so he wanted to go to the “Grand Ole Opry” in Nashville. Being as both locations had theme parks, our 4-year old was quite satisfied to ride anything that was slow. My wife and I enjoyed all the selections our children made, we had to as they put up with our visiting the relatives on both sides of the family.

It is my hope that this article will encourage you, the reader, to start involving your children in your activity planning if you don’t do so already. If you are including your children in your activity planning, may this article give you some ideas to give your activities some variety. Raising christian children is such a challenge in today’s world. We as parents should be challenged to find as many methods as we can to involve our children in wholesome activities that will encourage them to consistently keep their focus on things eternal. May God bless your and your family!

[allisonswrittenwords]

We’re reading all the books for National Reading Month!  And that’s the theme of the month (and a mini reading challenge for yours truly!)

“A Reader of Books”

I am what you would call a “reader for life.”  I love books, and always have.  Ever since I first started reading The Cat in the Hat prior to starting Kindergarten, I have loved the idea of words telling a story.

I should probably back up a bit, before the time I learned to read.

My mom told this story about a time when my dad had a newspaper open on the floor, and in the Job Classifieds, there was an advertisement that says “Macy’s.”  I was two years old, walking by the paper on the ground, and looked down and said “Macy’s.”  No, I couldn’t read yet, but apparently I could identify store logos, which either said I was going to be a world class shopper (which I’m not), or a reader (which I am).

Allison at 5 1/2 years old (also in 1988). Image: Venezio Family Collection

Brilliant, probably not, but smart – yeah, I’ve always been a little smart.  I’ve always been the type to just read whatever was in the house.  If a magazine was on the coffee table, then it was fair game.  I loved library day at school, and don’t get me started on the Scholastic Book Fair.  I missed a book fair in third grade and was devastated – the one and only book fair I ever missed in school (stupid sinus infection!).  My mom made it up to me by taking me to a local bookstore while I was recuperating from the sinus infection (I missed almost two weeks of school because of that infection!) to pick out some of the books I wanted from the book fair that year.  It was the time Ramona Quimby and The Baby-Sitters Club made their debuts in my reading life, and they’ve never left.

That was the same year I met Peter Hatcher and his little brother Farley Drexel (but you know him as Fudge), and Peter’s arch-nemesis (if only because she was a girl) Sheila Tubman (my mom bought me Sheila’s story that year).  The following year, in fourth grade, I was introduced to Mrs. Frisby and some rats from a secret organization, Charlie Buckett and his trip to some chocolate factory, as well as Ellen Tebbits (she lives in the same town as Ramona Quimby).  There was a Light in the Attic, and it was the one time I’ve ever loved poetry.

Fifth grade meant reading a few years above my level, when I discovered the horror of R.L. Stine’s Fear Street.  Yes, I admit it – I skipped over the Goosebumps series and went right for the high school-age stuff, while keeping up with the Baby-Sitters Club (and Kristy Thomas’s younger stepsister, Karen, whom I met in fourth grade when I got one of her books for Christmas).

By the time sixth grade ended, I left behind Ramona and the babysitters (Karen too) for pretty much non-stop reading of Fear Street novels (but I met “The Great” Gilly Hopkins that year).  I gave all of my books to a younger cousin (except for my copy of A Light in the Attic – I kept that for a few more years).  My love of reading grew from there, and expanded into Stephen King, Michael Crichton, and anything and everything about pop culture, humor, film, and television.  I read Dennis Miller’s books of rants in high school, even enjoyed some political reading in college.  Since high school and college was all about required reading, I did the assigned books.  They sorta became priority, so when college was finally done, I got back into doing my own reading.

As an adult, I’ve followed SG-1 on their adventures through the Stargate (still do once in a while), read a story about the horrors of rabbits relocating (and saw the movie about it, which is terrifying), and finally read the story of a young girl who was also “a reader of books.”

And that young girl is the subject of the first article in my themed “National Reading Month” articles.

At long last.

Matilda Wormwood, The Reader of Books

Image: archive.org

One children’s literature character I had the pleasure of meeting as a kid (both in written and movie form) was Matilda Wormwood.  I saw the movie when I was in eighth grade (a few years after I read the book, which would have been in fourth or fifth grade), when one of my cousins bought it over to watch.  The following day, I went over to my best friend’s house, and she received VHS copy of it from Christmas.  She was waiting to watch it with me, so we did.  A few months after that, I got my own copy of Matilda.  My grandmother bought it – my mom used to try to discourage her from buying us videos because she usually bought ones that my brother and I were too old for, but I loved this particular one.  This was the exception – I loved the story.

In 1997, I would never have expected a kids movie to have such an impact on so many.  Maybe it was the story, but I’d like to think it was Mara Wilson’s depiction of Matilda Wormwood that gave the story of a little girl with a love of books – and a rather interesting ability – such depth.

Matilda’s story actually begins almost a decade earlier, in 1988, which was right after the young lady that brought her to life was born.

Matilda

Image: archive.org

Matilda is a 1988 novel by Roald Dahl, the same author who brought Charlie Buckett, the BFG, and James’s adventures in a Giant Peach to life.  The story focuses on the eponymous character, a five-and-a-half year old girl with an “unusual prococity.”  Ignored by her parents and older brother, Matilda ventures to the local library beginning at the age of four, in search of books.

Matilda’s family, such as they are. Image: archive.org

By the time she is five-and-a-half, she has read all the children’s books, tackled Great Expectations, and loved Charles Dickens.  She is enrolled in a school run by Miss Agatha Trunchbull, a tyrannical sort who rules with an iron first.  Despite that, Matilda forms a bond with her teacher, Miss Honey.

Matilda discovers she has telekinetic abilities, when she causes a water glass containing a Newt to spill onto Miss Trunchbull.  When she reveals this to Miss Honey, her teacher confides to her about her upbringing at the hands of an abusive aunt after her father dies suspiciously.  The aunt, it turns out, is Miss Trunchbull, who is withholding Miss Honey’s deserved inheritance.  Matilda uses her abilities for sweet, sweet revenge (you know, the kid-appropriate kind), by raising a piece of chalk to the chalkboard during a lesson by Miss Trunchbull.  She writes a message with the chalk, in the guise of the ghost of Miss Honey’s father, demanding that Trunchbull hand over Miss Honey’s home and inheritance, and leave forever.

Trunchbull obliges (in a horrified way – abandoning the home and leaving no indication of where she was going), Miss Honey gets her house, and in a hesitant moment while trying to leave town due to  Mr. Wormwood’s less-than-honorable profession (turns out those cars he sells are stolen), her parents give Matilda permission to live with Miss Honey.  Things improve with the school, and advances in Matilda’s education result in losing her telekinesis, but she now has everything she wanted.

A sweet story about a sweet but very misunderstood young lady.

Allison Meets Matilda

As I said, I saw the movie first, when I was in eighth grade, with my younger cousin, but over a decade before I actually (finally!) read the book. I love both and the differences in the story, which had more of a British element, whereas the film is definitely Americanized.  I love the names of the characters – even the hard-edged Miss Trunchbull has such a great name – so perfect for someone of her stature.

Man, did the movie get her so right! Image: archive.org

I love that Matilda was finally able to channel her extraordinary intelligence in a productive manner – more advanced learning, but the film’s ending and Matilda being able to keep her powers, is equally fun.  She’s a protagonist that no matter what, exudes optimism, and finally gets everything she needed.  No overtly terrible measures were necessary…unless you think ghostwriting on a chalkboard terrible.  Which you probably don’t.

I’m re-reading Matilda again, ten years after I read it the second time, and the story just resonates with me.  It makes me feel good that a young girl could have such an incredible ability and intelligence, and use it for good.

As for my VHS copy (in the clamshell box!), I still have it – it’s in my giant container of videocassettes in my home office.  For nostalgia’s sake, I’m going to have to watch it some point.

By The Way…

  I’ve read Mara Wilson’s autobiography, which touches on her time as Matilda – a role that typecast her, but also one she learned to embrace many years later.  Her stories of a life before and after fame are pretty funny, and dare I say it, she’s alot like us…if we had found fame early on in our lives, and landed that One Huge Role that made us, and then caused us to shy away.

I also featured Matilda as the featured photo for a Music Monday article about the song “Send Me On My Way,” which was featured in the movie.

And Now, You!

Have you ever read Matilda, or any of Roald Dahl’s books?  Have you seen this or any other film adaptations of said books?  As always, I’d love to hear your stories.  What I love about National Reading Month is that we all have that one special character, that one special book or book series that drew us in and has never let us go…if we allowed that to happen.

That’s what this month is going to be about – five very special instances of my young reading life that have shaped my enjoyment of reading and made it a lifelong commitment. I promise the stories about their impact aren’t nearly as long-winded as how I met my these characters.  Always remember, when you first read about a character, you’re meeting them.  It’s your choice to see them through their series, or read about them again (if their story stands alone).

Have a great day!

Image: archive.org

A Girl of Unusual Precocity: The Story of Roald Dahl's "Matilda" - A little girl with a love of reading - and amazing abilities - is the subject of my kickoff for saluting National Reading Month! We're reading all the books for National Reading Month!  And that's the theme of the month (and a mini reading challenge for yours truly!)

[9-11luria-blog]

Week of: January 7th

9-11 Class Learning Highlights

Language Arts

4th grade: We finished reading The Tiger Rising this week! Students finished their comprehension question guides, which included inferring the theme of the story using 3 concrete examples from the book for support. In book clubs, students began working on their final project of the year: a character trait poster using evidence from the text.

5th grade: We finished Part 3 of 4 in Home of the Brave as a whole group. Students began working on a vocabulary assignment related to the book: creating a Frayer Model for four different words, including definition, picture, example, and word art or non-example.

Math

Shelby 4th grade: This week students solved two-step word problems, including multiplicative comparison, and used multiplication, addition, or subtraction to solve multi-step word problems. This wrapped up our learning with multi-digit multiplication!  

Jen 4th grade: Students learned how to multiply two-, three-, and four-digit numbers by a one-digit number. We began the week by representing the multiplication pictorially with a place value chart, then we moved to the “partial products” method, and finally students learned the standard algorithm “shortcut.”

5th grade:  We moved on from adding and subtracting decimal fractions to multiplying a decimal fraction by single-digit whole numbers. Students related to a written method through application of the area model and place value understanding, and explained the reasoning used. We multiplied a decimal fraction by single-digit whole numbers, including using estimation to confirm the placement of the decimal point. We also reviewed long division in preparation for dividing decimals by single-digit whole numbers involving easily identifiable multiples using place value understanding and relating to a written method.

Science

As our unit on evolution begins, we start to examine what it means to be alive and what every living thing is made of. This week we begin to understand that the characteristics and traits of a living thing are passed down from one’s parents in something called DNA.

History

4th grade: Students learned some more background information for our Native American history and culture unit, focusing on Native Americans of the Eastern Woodlands. We learned about different food and water sources and discussed some of the important geographical features of the region.  Students also participated in a number of activities which included stories/myths, personalities, and maps in order to get a better idea of what they would like to focus their research on for our upcoming project.  

5th grade: Students completed their learning and discussed the battles of Lexington and Concord and began learning about the second Continental Congress and some of the characters who were involved. We also took this opportunity to implement a strategy for reading and presenting which is being used in our Middle School Civics class, which uses different perspectives/lenses to inform research and point of view.  We will be focusing on the lenses of “Geographer” and “Biographer.”  Students will either be researching a personality or a location and its importance in the American Revolution.

Hebrew

Dorit’s groups: This week during our Hebrew lessons, students worked on a variety of writing activities; they utilized their new vocabulary in their work. One of our favorite activities was watching one episode of the Koffiko Israeli T.V. program; we then generated a summary of the episode.

Daphna’s group: We started working on our travel in Israel unit. We met the characters and identified differences and similarities and practiced using our new vocabulary words.

Chumash

Rashi and Ramban: We continued to discuss the blessing Yitzchak gave to Ya’akov and whose responsibility it is and who has been wronged. We continued adding information into our story with Rashi, classifying Rashi questions into categories.

Eben Ezra: We continued to learn perek 41 and spoke about Yosef’s new position. We continued adding information into our story with Rashi and classifying Rashi questions into categories.

Kindness: A lot is happening in Yitzchak and Rivkah’s family. Yitzchak wants to bless their eldest son Esav, but Rivkah has other plans. She wants the blessing to go to their youngest child Yaakov, so they devise a plan to trick Yitzhak into giving him the blessing.

The Dreamers: After helping the Butler and Baker, Yoseph spends two years in prison thinking his life is helpless. Suddenly, Paroah has two dreams that no one can help him with. That is until the Butler remembers a young man who helped years ago: Yoseph. Yoseph is taken from prison and brought before the king of Egypt to see if he can interpret his strange dreams.

Mishnah

4th grade: Students began learning the 5th mishnah in the 6th perek of Mishnah Brachot. We learned about some new rules for blessing fruits and vegetables and introduced a few new key terms.  The Mishnah also introduced a new concept of a hierarchy of foods and their blessings.  We also used the opportunity this week with Rosh Chodesh Shevat to learn about the shiv’at ha-minim, mentioned in last week’s mishnah, which refer to a group of seven species which grow in the Land of Israel and are mentioned in the Torah.

5th grade: Students finished their learning in the second mishnah in the fourth perek of Mishnah Brachot. We also learned an accompanying conversation mentioned in Gemarah as a commentary and then students took time to start writing their own prayers/intentions for before and after Work Time and lessons.

Community Time

This week we discussed conflict and how we naturally respond to them, with a “fight or flight” reaction. Most responses to a difficult situation are either with aggression or avoidance. Students learned that there’s actually a third kind of reaction: being assertive. We had a chance to role play different scenarios that are typical in our 9-11 community, practicing using internal feelings, I Statements, and calm body language.

We started clubs this Friday! Students got to choose between Science Experiments, Art & Graphic Design, Craft, Strategy Games, Luria Times, and Fantasy Sports.

Questions

Language Arts

4th grade: What do you think was the theme in The Tiger Rising? Use concrete details from the book to prove why this is the theme you chose.

5th grade: What are the definitions of the four vocabulary words you chose this week from Home of the Brave? How has Kek changed from Part 1 to Part 3 of the book?

Math

Shelby 4th grade: Temma sold 195 boxes of Girl Scout cookies. Emma sold three times as many as Temma. Emunah sold 297 fewer than Emma. How many boxes did Emunah sell?

Sarah bought a shirt on sale for $35. The original price of the shirt was 3 times that amount.  Sarah also bought a pair of shoes on sale for $28. The original price of the shoes was 5 times that amount. Together, how much money did the shirt and shoes cost before they went on sale?

Jen 4th grade: To get enough money to go on a field trip, every student in a club has to raise $53 by selling chocolate bars. There are 9 students in the club. How much money does the club need to raise to go on the field trip?

5th grade:  Ava buys groceries for her family.  Hamburger meat is $3.38 per pound, sweet potatoes are $0.79 each, and hamburger rolls are $2.30 a bag. If Ava buys 3 pounds of meat, 5 sweet potatoes, and 1 bag of hamburger rolls, what will she pay in all for the groceries? Julian bought 3.9 liters of cranberry juice, and Nathan bought 8.74 liters of apple juice. They mixed the two juices together and then poured them equally into 2 bottles. How many liters of juice are in each bottle?

Science

What exactly is this code inside us all, and how much does in control what we all grow to be? And what does it mean that certain changes in one’s DNA can give you an advantage or disadvantage? Does our DNA determine what and who we grow up to be? How much of our future is in our hands to change?

History

4th grade: What are some similarities between Native American culture and Jewish culture?

5th grade: What was the “Olive Branch Petition” and why was it sent?

Hebrew

Dorit’s groups: In what way do you connect to the Israeli children in Koffiko?

Daphna’s group: כמו מי את/ה? למי את/ה דומה? שונה?

Chumash

Rashi and Ramban: Which of Rashi’s categories is your favorite? Why?

Eben Ezra: Which of Rashi’s categories is your favorite? Why?

Kindness: What is the best way to solve family disagreements when people have different goals in mind?

The Dreamers: Can Yoseph turn his life around by helping Paroah understand his dreams?

Mishnah

4th grade: Why does making a bracha over pat (bread) exempt the blessing over the parperet (appetizer or finger food)?  

5th grade: What are your before and after lesson/Work Time blessings?

[lighthouseofthewanderess]

School

(noun): A place kids go to everyday, where they learn history, science, health, and other things of the world.

So you already know about my 14 schools. You also know that there as been some bullying and issues adapting. While this phase of new schools, same yellow pencils were tough to see through, I believe it all made me a stronger person. There were so many people who crossed my path, and this one’s for them. For the schools, the principles, and the young souls that took me in when I was constantly on the line of hate.

My first school, Price Harris, was in Wichita. It was a typical public institution where the popular kids ruled like kings and left the others to play catch up. It was here that my blue coast incident happened. And it was here that I was quarantined, seen like a monster for the little bugs living on my head. Yes, I had lice. My father’s family had them, and even though my dad had cut my hair short, they clung on for dear life and sailed the seas with me. Turns out someone in school had seen a ‘bee’ in my hair and the next few hours slipped out of my hands even before I could try and say ‘I have an explanation.’

Lice is a big deal, even here in India. So I can imagine how I must look like to these Americans. A walking talking host, spreading the infectious bugs to the normal healthy children of the school. A memo was dropped into all our cubby holes and I, like every other person, walked up and slowly read it. Oh my god, it’s my name. Typed in bold, all caps. Yup, they wanted to be clear it was me. The memo went on to say that there’s a girl called this, studying in that class, who has lice. While the school figures out a solution, please maintain distance if you see her. Had I suddenly become a repelling magnet? There was no one around me. Backed against the walls, the kids and the teacher looked at me half scared, half with pity. My mom was summoned at once from work. I was put in a white room, made to sit on a single wooden stool.

“Your daughter… she has been seen with a very small insect. Now, these things aren’t life-threatening. We can fix her.” splicing with the knife versus the band aid. The look on my mom’s face would’ve said something to the equivalent of ‘We are made of steel, don’t treat us like a bubble about to burst.’ What she did say though was:

“Are you talking about lice?” The principal relaxed a bit, the news had been broken and it was received without much damage.

“It is not that uncommon in India. The temperate climate, and the number of people children mix with on a close basis … I know what needs to be done.” my mom stood up, walked to where I was quarantined and from school took me straight to the hairdresser. She asked him to cut it all short, like a buzz cut. The next day, she took a day off and we sat for hours cleaning up my hair. Strand by strand, every inch of my scalp. Two days after the incident, I was back at school and a nurse was assigned to do a thorough check. With a face mask, two latex gloves and a pair of ice, cream sticks, the nurse certified me clean. The Principal was in shock of how my mom took command of the situation. She launched into a lecture about how she cannot make decisions about me without my consent. My mom laughed it away. “You wanted her lice-free. It is done.”

Thankfully I left that school and moved into Gammon Elementary for my second grade. All the feels. It has been my favorite school among all, and the only one I joined back to in 5th grade. For now, I was placed under the care of Mrs. Braet, in a classroom with two guinea pigs as the class pet. Here is where I would understand that you did not have to carry heavy school bags to school, they lived in class. Where I would sharpen my focus on art and imagination over stars and science. Every day started with the national anthem on the intercom and ended with candies earned for good behavior. What a heaven. Here’s also where I met some of my best friends.

I was hanging upside down from the monkey bars when Weston Jones walked up to me.

“Why are you hanging like that?” he asked, his dark blue eyes squinting against the sun

“Why is there a fake scar on your forehead?” I asked instead of answering.

“Oh it’s a Harry Potter scar. I’m a huge fan. Don’t you know the book?” He turned a book he was holding against his chest to its front and I saw an illustrated cover. Looks unreal.

I swung down from my bars and Weston launched into a whole synopsis of the two books that were out. I didn’t find the story interesting, but I found Weston’s enthusiasm and his belief in the story to be something wonderful. His imagination allowed for a book like this. Mine didn’t. And so, I would never go on to read any of the Harry Potter books, even later in life. I would just recount all the conversations with this boy; they were all about the book mostly. At lunch, we would exchange boxes. We would skate every Friday night under the big disco ball. He once told me randomly while waiting in the lunch line - “Your culture has so much to learn from. It’s super cool Priya.” Gee thanks. Something associated with me was cool? Throughout second grade, I wasn’t bullied. I had used up all my slips and falls to learn and shape myself into a normal kid when I got here. I was wholesomely loved. I celebrated my birthday surrounded by my classmates, and Mrs. Braet gave me birthday bumps in front of the whole class. I wore a pretty white silk dress and distributed cupcakes bought from Walmart. Learning was made fun, one annual exam of 60 minutes with a 10 minute snack break in between. It would be stressful otherwise, they felt. Learning is one of the greatest adventures we embark on during the larger part of our life. Very true. School: A place where you’re nurtured to grow into anything you want to be. Where you begin your journey to find what you’d like to do, and learn the things needed to make it come true.

When I had to leave mid 3rd grade back to India, everyone around me had long faces. Why, I wondered. The concept of goodbyes hadn’t been understood yet. So while people signed cards, wished I ate peanuts on the beach for me, or slapped their addresses on my notebook -- I just smiled wide and gave them a hug. Even the teachers teared up and said I was sunshine. Haha, what? My color is purple, not yellow. Weston came over and left me a plastic sunflower to remind me of Kansas. I plucked out a peacock feather from the house decor and left a bit of India with him.  I went to Chuk E Cheese, traded all the game coupons I earned and got myself a gift from the envious top shelf. Mackenzie, my other best friend, and I played a game or two for old times sake and plunged into greasy slices of pizza. Her mother watched us eat, and when Mackenzie left to the restroom she spoke to me of friendship.

“You guys can be like pen pals. It’s just a world, not another universe. Write to her, no matter how silly. Stay friends with Mackenzie, she really likes you.” Her words would ring in my head come every Christmas, and I would write a letter to the only address I have in hand. I would get a message on Facebook a month later about how I sent it to her mother’s house and how her mother recognized my name and dropped it off at her place.

Even though I stopped going to school, we still spent a few weeks wrapping up our life for good in Kansas. Mom took me to school one last time to say goodbye and I went straight to the principal Mrs. Fullerton to give her a big hug. “We’re really going to miss you.” she said softly, and took me to the gym-turned-lunch room. This moment was the closest I’ll get to fame, the one I revist when I doubt myself over and over again.

When we stepped in, a silence fell. My eyes frantically searched for the familiar faces of my class so that I can go to them. I had also been mixing with kids from other classes who I met at ESOL. And some more through Girl’s Scout of 99’. The minute I started spotting them, the auditorium tore off into a cheer.

“School, guess who it is!” Mrs. Fullerton cooed loudly. And in unison, all 550 students called out my name. How they all know me is a different story, let’s focus on my moment of sweet glory.

I heard some questions around me.  Did you go to India and come back?Are you not going any more? Will you be staying with us now? How I wish I cried at that moment, let them know I was so sad about leaving all these beautiful souls. Well, I didn’t. I blew kisses in the air and walked up to where my class was sitting and launched with them. The last supper.

The echoing of that cheer was with me till I landed in India. Till I stood outside the gate of my new school - Spartan, in Chennai. One foot in, and that echo finally died. In front of me was a dry, dusty school ground. Someone knocked my shoulder and ran off. I travelled in my head back to the time I tapped on someone’s shoulder and got thrown in detention because of infringing personal space. Ha.  And were there so many children? The place was literally crawling with them. Luckily, I had come to school with another girl from my neighborhood. Jaswanti. I still remember the first sentence I uttered to her. “Where’s the restroom?” Peals of laughter, all around me, at my thickly accented American English. “We say toilet here.” Ugh. It was going to be a very long day. And I will have to swing like a pendulum, once again.  

This isn’t the end of my school story, but it does mark something significant. Life had come a full circle at the tender age of 9. I had transported myself into the future that was America, and now back into my roots. My people, my soil. Yet so different, unbelonging. The first few days, I missed my friends and school sorely. I wish I brought back some of the gifts they had given me. But our suitcases were full. And so, we had stupidly given it to someone else to bring back with them when they visit India. A singed pillow from my Girl’s Scout. A sunflower, a boot-shaped picture keychain. I willed my mind to remember more and more of my days there. How I would swing on the monkey bars, the mist from the little electric fan that the PT teacher treated us to after recess. The hours sent with oodles of glue and Crayola markers. The mind palace of Weston T Jones. Anything other than the hours of sitting in one place, the utter stupidity of it all. Of being taught ‘what to think’ and not ‘how to think’. Were teachers even teachers here if they thought for you and dictated answers? The heavy bag I carried to school and back sunk me to the ground each day. I wished I didn’t take my life there for granted, if only I could go back there again. Stop it. I gave myself another pep talk. It was high time. The time had come when I needed to be a chameleon again. “You will never be like them in their eyes. You are meant to belong here, but you don’t have to.” My accent stuck with me for far too long, made it harder for me to fit in. But I pushed through. 13 subjects, not 7. Exams every quarter, tests every week, and homework every day. I just wanted to disappear from it all. This was clearly too much stress for any student.  There was a dissonance within. Having to do something that I clearly didn’t believe in. Being forced to it and given the example of others who didn’t even think twice about it. This just sucks on so many levels. Learning is supposed to be an adventure. It really didn’t matter what I thought when the rest of the world was spinning the other way. Don’t try to change it, just adapt. I turned all my anger to rote learning. I shook my head clear the minute any memory from US snuck in. It’s not what I needed to get past this part of life. I moved schools again, half of 4th grade was spent in a girl’s school - DAV, Chennai. Nothing changed though, if at all, it was worse. Girls were believed to be an obedient bunch, and I was anything but that. I was labelled as the girl from abroad and I could see how words were swimming around in their heads when they looked at me. Words that weren’t English.

[momosmessages]

Day of Language and other Miscommunications

As I mentioned in my previous post, I returned to the United States last week to attend a friend’s wedding. A few days beforehand, I wrote this post. I had issues with my house’s internet, and therefore, could not post it.

On this blog, I want to share all of my experiences here - both the good and bad. I want this blog, I want to be as real, authentic, and open as possible.

I want share my successes AND my frustrations. I feel that this post shares both.

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“Now I see the mystery of your loneliness .”

― William Shakespeare, All's Well That Ends Well

Today is Monday, April 23, the anniversary of William Shakespeare’s birth. Here in Barranquilla, it’s celebrated “Language Day.”

Apparently there is another holiday called “English Day”, but it’s in August.

I felt that the meaning behind the word “language” was both fitting and ironic for the events which took place.

Yesterday started off how the day would be - full of miscommunication.

On Monday mornings, Silvia doesn’t have class in the first period, but I do. I always forget this. I think this is a more recent thing though, because I vividly remember this wasn’t a problem when I first moved.

Normally Silvia makes my breakfast. But because she goes to school later, she slept in. When I came out of my room, ready to go to school, she was in the middle of getting ready. Roberto was awake because he will leave the house at the same time as Silvia and I for school. He realized this dilemma  and tried to compensate.

He opened a new bag of milk and then attempted to open my new bag of cereal, “Zucaritas” (Frosted Flakes). I normally don’t eat that for breakfast; I only snack on it throughout the day. I felt bad that he already opened a new bag of milk, so I told him I’d just pour the cereal myself. I ate it with a yogurt drink I had bought the week before, knowing cereal alone would not satisfy my hunger.

When I was almost finished eating, Roberto informed me in broken English that he was leaving and his mom was going in later, because of her schedule. It seemed to me as if she was almost ready to leave, so I decided to wait for her and not walk with Roberto.

And of course, I assumed wrong.

After 10 extra minutes of waiting, I realized my mistake. I then saw no point in walking to school on my own. I was already late, and I knew that my students this period were working on a project. I waited another 5 minutes for her to be ready, and we left together.

By the time we got to school, there was only 15 minutes left of the first period.

This class was the 11th grade Advanced Level, and they were working on career-themed posters in English. The objective was to create a group presentation in English about their career of choice. They had to include what steps one must take to obtain that career, the pros and cons, the salary, etc.

I helped one student who wanted to be a lawyer. She asked me what qualifications she needed to study or work as a lawyer in the United States. I told her she’d first have to take an English level test to prove she’s proficient enough of the language. Then she’d have to take at least a bar examination. It made me remember my privilege as an American citizen.

Unknown to me, this would be my only class of the day. As I entered my second classroom, a group of 8th grade Beginner-Level, the my students just looked at me and all nodded their heads “No” in silence. Another teacher sat at the desk, unaware of my presence and busy taking attendance. And so I slowly retreated, wondering what this was all about.

I met Mentor outside of the teacher’s room. We shook hands.

Whenever I first see him in the morning, he will shake my hand.

After he shook my hand, he told me he was sick. Great.

I asked him what was going on, and if it had something to do with Language Day. He told me that there would be an event in the third period. However, the second period classes were switched with the third period classes.

This meant that I had this period free. So I reminded him of a meeting we had.

Back Story - Social Project or Hidden Imperialism?

As a mandatory element of the Colombia Bilingue program, English Teaching Fellows must create what is called the “Social Project”. It is a project that is meant to help better the community in some way. It can be themed around helping the environment, helping women and children, promoting literacy, etc.

At the beginning of our semesters, all fellows had to write a detailed proposal. We had to include the dates, teacher involvement, the budget, etc.

My proposal was due the day after my first day at my school. From the start I had mixed feelings about this project. I felt like it was  a “White Man’s Burden” to come to a country you barely know, and start telling them what’s best for them, without knowing the community’s needs at all. And as a white person specifically, this made me uncomfortable.

But I did it anyway, because I had to.

I created an event centered around Earth day. I wrote that students would have booths with presentations about how to keep the Earth environmentally friendly. I pictured a student art contest, where students had to create art pieces out of recycled materials. I envisioned students singing songs, or reading poetry about the environment.

But every time I brought it up to Mentor, he would talk about my English Club, or brush it off.

My English club is supposed to be part of my “Cultural Hour” -  another mandatory element of the program.

Last semester’s fellows did not have to create social project as elaborate ours. So the last fellow at my school, who I am often compared to, only did an English Club.

About a month ago, a little before Semana Santa, I reminded Mentor that I needed to begin preparing for my Social Project. He told me that Julio*, a science teacher, already had a project going on that was similar to mine. I felt more comfortable with the idea of working with an already ongoing project, so I told him I’d be happy to help. Mentor told me he’d set up a meeting with me and Julio, but never did.

At this time we were also trying to get the English Club started. Mentor needed to create a permission letter for parents, as well as select certain students for the club. Every time I mentioned English Club, he would say an excuse about how busy he was and would try to work on it the next day.

I first hand how difficult a teacher’s life can be, so I decided to remain patient.I figured I wouldn’t press too much about the Social Project, and let him work on one thing at a time.

But last week RC told me that I needed to start working on my project, pronto. Apparently, my Social Project Proposal was chosen as one of few out of Barranquilla. I even learned today that the Ministry liked my proposal so much, they want to put it in a book for next year’s fellows.

THE COLOMBIAN GOVERNMENT WANT TO PUT ME IN A BOOK. I REPEAT - THE COLOMBIAN GOVERNMENT WANTS TO PUT ME IN A BOOOOOOK!

This week I am traveling home to attend a close friend’s wedding. Therefore, RC told me she’d come to the school in order to convince my Mentor realize that this was serious. She said she had to observe me in a class anyway, so she’d kill two birds with one stone.

In fact, last week I had not one person but TWO pepole observing my class, at the same time. The other woman, Jinger*, came straight from the Ministry. Afterwards she asked me questions for a survey. Jinger also told me how much the Ministry liked my proposal. This made it feel so much more real!

After the class, RC talked my principal and Julio, stressing the situation. Julio said he was willing to work with me. They planned to have a meeting for Monday, April 23 at 9am.

Back to Earth

And of course, what we didn’t plan for, was the Language Day Event.

In yesterday’s “second” period, the 10th grade girls had created stands outside their auditorium, across from the gym. Every girl was assigned to create a poster featuring a famous artist. One of my favorite students, Jordan*, explained everything to me, because of course, I had no idea what was going on. Her English is amazing, she plays three different instruments, and if I were her age, I’d want to be friends with her.

One table had a box which said: “Classic”  and “Modern”. Students were encouraged to vote for which type of literature they preferred.

A variety of books were laid out across tables. Never in my life had I seen so many Spanish books all at once. I’m just only used to seeing it as a teeny tiny section in a Barnes and Nobles.

Some students got really into it!

It was also super cool to see famous young adult novels in Spanish, such as John Green books, Harry Potter, and the Book Thief.

Student-made posters of famous authors

The gym was decorated with balloons of all colors of the rainbow. Small cut-out alphabet letters hung on string from both sides of the bleachers. Larger cut-out letters spelled “Dia de Idioma” over the Balloon gateway.

Here, students presented poetry, sang and played instruments, and even acted out poems.

Literature has such an immense affect on my own culture.

An 11th grade student performing a poem

It was cool to see for myself how it can have a similar affect on another community that’s so different than my own.

When RC came to the school, these presentations were still going on. At first I couldn’t find Mentor.

Students singing a song

Instead I found Julio, who told me in Spanish (I think) was that we couldn’t have the meeting because of the event. I explained that RC was physically here, and he told me to just talk to Mentor, who in that moment, seemed to come out of nowhere.

Students acting out a poem

I told him RC was here. He just said “No, we changed the meeting to next Friday.”

I just blinked at him with confusion.

“Did you already talk to RC?”

“No.”

“Um, okay. But she’s here?”

“Oh RC is here?”

*Inner face-palm*.

“Yes, she’s here in the principal’s office.”

Mentor then told me how the Ministry sent him an e-mail, saying they would visit next Friday. Even though I told him that morning and last Friday that we had a meeting with RC, he seemed to have fused her and the Ministry together.

So, we went to the principal’s office without Julio.

Now, this part is what makes me most frustrated. In this conversation, I felt like although RC tried to talk to Mentor about my proposal, he only talked about the ideas that HE had. Mentor and I had talked about his ideas the past Friday. I had explained that a lot of his ideas were very similar to my ideas in my proposal.

But again here today, he talked about the project as if these ideas were all new, and just repeated things that RC and I had been saying on repeat. For example, HE even told RC how we “really had to hash out the details of the project”, yet didn’t provide any solutions. And this was the entire reason why RC had come in the first place!!!!

In this conversation I just felt so frustrated. I felt like I couldn’t speak because he just kept talking, and he never asked me to contribute. The only time I spoke was at the end of the meeting, when RC asked me if I had questions.

I just felt so thwarted. Here I was, a 24 year old adult woman, feeling like I’m 12 years old parent was speaking to a teacher for me.

The Ministry had selected ME specifically for my own project, yet he completely overlooked this fact. I knew my RC was trying to politely stick to the facts and be solution oriented.

I hate saying this, but through his actions felt like he was just being a stereotypical man. In my experience in working with men, this happens so often. Also in the past, the men I’ve worked with won’t do something unless they think it’s their idea, which was totally happening now.

At the end of the conversation, I suggested to Mentor that the two of us should meet tomorrow and finalize the details. I said that at home after school, I would reorganize my proposal to fit for May, and he agreed. I said want to have something done before I leave on Thursday.

RC left, I talked with him a little more. I asked him at what time tomorrow he was free to talk more about the proposal. I said I was free tomorrow at fourth period.

But then he then told me at fourth period that the 10th grade would be presenting.

“Tomorrow they’re presenting? Not today?”

“No, today they are presenting.”

“Um okay so are you free tomorrow?”

“Oh no I am not.”

“Okay, so when are you free to go over the proposal once it’s reorganized?”

“Oh, can’t we do it at today’s meeting?”

Every Monday we have a meeting with the other English teachers. They normally speak in Spanish the whole time, but I was determined to have a say this time. I felt it was important to inform the other teachers about my project, since this did involve English. But since I didn’t have a revised proposal and we just talked about this, it didn’t make sense. I explained myself again.

I think after a few times he understood, and we settled on a time on Wednesday instead.

Normally that wouldn’t have made me impatient, but I felt so pissed off inside. We literally had just talked about this, and I felt like my head was spinning in circles.

The following period, the 10th grade really were presenting. I had noticed in the beginning of the morning that they had decorated the Auditorium in red and black. But I didn’t know the purpose of it!

When I returned for the second part of the morning, a red carpet was rolled out. The windows were covered with long strips of red paper.

About a dozen tables lined the inner perimeter, surrounded by students in uniform, and in red and black costumes. Cut-out decorations of spades, hearts, diamonds, and clovers covered the walls, and pop music blasted from the speakers.

I then bumped into one Spanish teacher. She informed me that this was supposed to be a “Casino”. The “games” were like card-games, but based off of literature. She then had one student take me by the arm and led me to a table. She wore a purple blazer over white button down shirt, and half of her face was full of white makeup.  

At this table, students had a deck of cards and poker chips spread out. From what I understood, three people at a time were to pick and flip a card. Whoever had the lowest value card won a poker chip.

If you had a chip, you could use it to bet on other games.

I found one of my co-teachers, JF playing a game. The students had orally told a story, and contestants had to answer a series of written questions about it. JF was so excited about it.

“Here if you win, you win a free book!”

I thought that was pretty neat.

I had also seen the principal and other teachers there, participating in games.

As I walked around the auditorium, a sentimental yet melancholy feeling came over me. This event and it’s atmosphere reminded me of all the events me and my City Year team did. Almost every month we’d have some sort of event, including  two huge events during the year for students and parents. We got so into decorating that we’d plan months in advance.

It made me reminisce on how much fun we had making it, especially because we made it on our own. We had a lot of freedom with our events, and though it was a lot of work, we truly enjoyed it.

A thought dawned on me - that even though I was an experienced, well-equipped and creative event planner, I wouldn’t have the freedom to make my Social Project as awesome as it deserved to be.

In the classroom I feel as though I don’t have much control, because the teachers rarely plan with me. I thought that maybe this would allow me to feel in charge of my time here. I had also thought this about the English Club. But since that isn’t happening either anytime soon.

And once again, I felt powerless. I feel like I have so much potential to help students here, but it’s not being used. And it’s unfair to me, to the students, and to the government.

I left the auditorium and walked to the audio visual room. One of my favorite students, Jessa* told me that she would be presenting there. These were the girls who put on the Saint Patrick’s Day Parade for me. And so, I tried to put on a happy mask over my true feelings.

The room was covered from top to bottom in  constellations. Black, ripped garbage bags had been tapped onto the walls, and string Christmas lights were pinned at the top, and lit all around the room. Jessa and another girl, Joy* welcomed me in white lab coats. On their pockets were names of a Nobel Science winner. There were about a dozen students in the room, and everyone had a specific constellation or planet to explain. Jessa and Joy knew my spanish wasn’t enough to fully understand everyone, so they went around the room with me, translating what every presenter said.

Some girls connected the planets to literature. One talked about a fictional planet from the “I am Number Four” series.

I am always amazed by these girls. They work so hard and always put on incredible presentations.

My takeaway from the day is this:

I love how holidays are celebrated here. It reminds me and encourages me to celebrate every aspect of life. I wish we had a Language Day celebration like this in the United States!

But if having so many celebrations comes with a price, and causes so many mishaps, like schedule changes and missed time,  I think I’d instead take a consistent schedule any day.

[joanavelasquezblog-blog]

Week 1:

Hey there! It’s the first day of my last undergrad semester! YAY! I contently walk around the new renamed building, Bookstein Hall. I gather my class schedule and I start looking at where my classes are going to be at. So here we are in class number 4 of the day it’s only 12:30pm. Students always assume “syllabus week” is going to be the easiest week of the semester. First things first, we begin the class with the infamous ice-breakers. These are useful depending on what the professor asks the class to ask our perspective peers. I begin with asking 3 people around me getting their name, major, minor, and what the course is about. Ok I tell myself that seems simple. It was because I and those around me introduced each other and had noted all of what we had asked. We return to our seats and then we get asked to find 2 more people and get their name email address and phone number, the catch was we couldn’t use the people we had previously asked. We then move on to discuss the syllabus. Ah the packet that tells us the do’s and don’ts of the course. Prerequisites to be in the class have to earning a C or better in Management 360. Believe me when I said to my-self that if I received anything lower than that, I would have to change my major. Next requirement was to pass the Upper Division Writing Proficiency Exam. Last requirement was to have passed Business 302 and the Lab. The class in which the group you were assigned either killed your grade point average or brought it down lower.  We then move on to what textbook we would be using. I had already purchased it so I was hoping it wouldn’t change or last minute the professor would say it was a classroom that wouldn’t use the textbook. Then canvas. It’s more efficient than Moodle, that’s for sure. The grading was the section I was most worried about. I want to earn an A in the class, therefore I’m up for whatever it takes to get there, including showing up to class every day and not using my phone. No extra credit is not offered so get that out of the picture. The syllabus ends with resources students have access to, on campus and a very detailed week by week course log. Introduction: The critical role of management skills. Wow ok we are starting on the book readings already. Ok I’ve got this. Well I skimmed the italicized words in this chapter. Hoping I wouldn’t get called on. So I shouldn’t be that far behind. Knowing the importance of management skills is knowing how to manage one’s own life as well as relationships with others. Some essential management skills are as followed: Behavioral skills are not part of our personality and they are actions that lead to positive outcomes. Controllable skills are skills we can govern ourselves. Developable skills are in which performance can improve. Interrelated and overlapping skills are a set of complex responses. Contradictory or paradoxical are when they are soft and direct. This week I had work on Friday. I’m not sure if it was because all the kids went back to school this week or what but customers where being super rude. I had a customer come up to me to tell me why there were no ripe bananas out. She was proclaiming she put these in her children’s lunch box every day. I was in shock in the moment because why someone would be yelling at someone over bananas. Crazy right. I mean skimming the book helped me by knowing that my behavioral skills would allow me to help this customer. The actions I had to do where go and get her a box of ripe bananas from the back. This was under my control and a simple action of allowing her to leave the store in a better mood. Something I can develop for the future is perhaps having ripe bananas out sooner and an instance like that one can be avoided.

[j-writes-and-suffers]

NaNoWriMo Day Nine

By the time his last lecture was over, Philip was exhausted, but much happier than he’d been in a long while. All of his classes had liked him, and a few students had even invited him to join them at lunch. He’d agreed, and ended up spending his lunchtime debating about Lord of the Rings trivia with undergrads. It had been surprisingly fun, and he felt way more welcome now, like he was really and genuinely a part of the Stag Family.

Done with classes for the day, Philip had a visit to make. He grabbed the jacket he’d brought off the chair, throwing it on. Packing up his papers and computer, he tossed his bag over his shoulder, and made his way towards the back exit of the academic hall. He ignored the sidewalks, taking the shortcut Lucien showed him. Moments later, he walking was out of the woods in front of the library. Philip smirked, a little proud of himself for remembering the path. He hurried up the stairs, yanking the hefty door open and strolling in. A petite Asian girl was sitting behind the circulation desk, thumbing through what looked to be a biology textbook. She looked up when Philip walked in.

“Hmm… blond, short, wearing a tweed jacket that’s clearly not yours… You’re Philip.”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly confused and very alarmed. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Luci hasn’t shut up about you all day. He’s in the back. I’m assuming, of course, that you’re here to see him.” She replied.

Philip nodded. “I… I am, yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.” The girl went back to reading.

Tiptoeing through the aisles, Philip headed for the lounge in the back room. He walked slowly and cautiously, determined to sneak up on Lucien for once. The lounge door was open, so he crept up to the entrance, pressed against the wall as he peeked inside.

“Hello, Philip.” Lucien turned away from the coffeemaker to smile at him.

“How the fuck!” Philip burst out of his hiding spot, enraged. “I didn’t make a sound the whole way over!”

“I heard you talking to Heather.”

Philip’s jaw dropped. “That was all the way across the library.”

Lucien chuckled, “My sight may be awful, but my hearing is superb. Don’t just stand there all day like a shitty statue. Come in, sit down.”

Philip walked in, dropping down on the familiar, cozy couch. “Do you have any hot chocolate over there?”

“I might… let’s see.” Lucien started rifling through cabinets, after a moment, producing a metal tin with candy canes painted on it. “Aha! Would you like extra dark, marshmallow madness, or cinnamon twist.”

“Mm… marshmallows.” Philip nodded confidently.

Lucien gave a thumbs up, turning back to the coffee maker. He poured the last of the tea out into his own mug, rinsing the pot out and returning it to the maker for fresh hot water. While it filled, he turned to Philip, leaning on the counter and raising an eyebrow. “So, how was your first day?”

“It was really good!” Philip beamed. “The kids were nice, and they liked me, and some of them took me to lunch.”

“Really?” The older man smiled warmly, “I’m glad.”

Philip leaned forward, asking, “What about you? I see your student assistants showed up.”

“I’ve been giving tours most of the day. Teachers that assign lots of reading like to bring their students out here. So do the research nuts.” Lucien turned back to the coffee maker, pouring out a mug’s worth of hot water to make cocoa. Once the chocolately powder was dissolved, he walked over to the couch and held out the mug.

The chipper blond accepted his drink, taking a sip and grinning. “Tastes like nostalgia and diabetes.”

Caught off guard, Lucien busted out laughing. Much louder and lower than his speaking voice, his genuine laugh was deep and hearty. Philip’s eyes widened in delight and surprise.

“Wow! You have a non-library voice! I never would’ve known.”

Lucien smiled, his laugh trailing off as he replied, “I use my indoor voice constantly these days. It’s a habit I fell into years ago. I suppose it comes from hardly socializing when I’m not at work.”

“You really are a hermit, aren’t you, old man?” Philip teased.

Rolling his eyes, Lucien huffed. “I should’ve poisoned that cocoa. You’re so mean to me.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway.” Philip insisted, “Besides, you’re too nice to hurt anybody.”

Lucien’s eyes darkened briefly, but Philip was too busy sipping cocoa to notice. The older man regained his composure by the time the younger one was paying attention. “I like to think so.”

“I think so.” Philip nodded insistently.

Forcing a smile, Lucien rushed to change the subject, “Do you have classes tomorrow?”

Philip had to stop and think for a second. “Just one, in the afternoon.”

“Ah, so you get to sleep in?”

“I do!” The blond nodded, clearly glad to not have to be up at the asscrack of dawn.

Lucien smiled more sincerely, “That’s good. I know you’re more of a night owl.”

“Yeah, my brain just can’t really get going till like ten. Doesn’t matter when I go to sleep.”

“I’m just the opposite,” Lucien mused, “Up early, and asleep as soon as I’m home. I honestly would prefer that the library close earlier, but I know you manic children love to stay up late and study.”

Philip snickered, mumbling something about ‘sleepy old men’ into his hot chocolate.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing.” Philip grinned mischievously. He knew sharp-eared Lucien had heard him just fine.

The older man rolled his eyes, sighing and adjusting his glasses. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Cause you’d be bored otherwise.” The younger man beamed back at Lucien, setting his mug aside and sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. “Oh! I almost forgot. This is yours.” He started to take off the jacket, but Lucien put out a hand to stop him.

“Keep it. I must have ten of those. It makes you look… more professorly.”

Philip smiled, tugging the jacket back on and puffing out his chest. “It does?”

“Oh, indeed.” Lucien nodded, “You look so studious and wise.” He chuckled, but he was only half-joking. With the addition of a real jacket, Philip really did look more mature. It took him from ‘awkward kid at a school dance’ to ‘turn to page 394’.

“Yesss.” Philip grinned, “I’ve finally got my aesthetic. Maybe next I can - ‘choo!” He was distracted by a sneeze, groaning and rubbing his nose.

Lucien frowned. “Are you sure you’re not getting sick?” He scooted closer, hovering over Philip like a worried mother.

“Nah,” Philip shook his head. “It’s been on and off all week. Gotta be allergies. There must be a dog running around campus.”

“That… seems a little far-fetched.” Lucien mused, “Are you sure you don’t have any other allergies?”

Philip shook his head. “Nah, there’s no way. I got shit-tons of allergy tests when my mom found out she was allergic to bees. Luck’s on me, I guess, cause I’m not. Dogs are my only weakness.”

“That is lucky, I suppose.” Lucien forced a smile. “Will you walk with me? I have a few new books to put in the system. I’ve not had time earlier, what with all the tours.”

“Yeah, of course.” Philip hopped to his feet, sniffling and grabbing his cocoa. “Let’s go.” He scurried after Lucien as they headed down a narrow stairwell to the basement. “Whoa… this shit is spooky.” The peppy blond paused on the steps. “Hold up a sec. This isn’t like… a murder basement, right? I’m gonna come back up in one piece?”

“Nope. This is how you die.” Lucien chuckled, knowing Philip would continue to follow him anyway.

The two made their way down to the lowest floor of the library. With bare concrete walls and a pretty pathetic heater, it was cold and unwelcoming. There were reams of blank paper, cans of toner, and shiny new textbooks on one wall. Along another sat a workbench, along with boxes of books in various states of disrepair. In a smaller back area, there sat outdated technologies, like overhead projectors and CRT TVs with VHS players.

Philip began snooping around, particularly fascinated by the piles of torn-up books. He pointed to the workbench, asking, “Is this like… a repair shop? For books?”

“Yes. I try not to let my books get that bad, but some borrowers are particularly cruel to them. When I get a book back that’s in bad shape, it comes down here, and I do my best to bring it back to life. If it’s missing pages, or has water damage, I can’t do much, but I can fix loose spines and tears no problem.” Lucien was digging through a file cabinet, from which he produced a stamp bearing the school seal. He opened a second drawer, pulling out a roll of labels and a barcode scanner. “This is going to take a while, feel free to sit down.”

Turning the workbench chair to face Lucien, Philip sat down and pulled up his laptop. “Dude…” he groaned, “There’s no WiFi down here.”

“Oh, you poor Millennial, how ever will you live an hour without it?” Lucien’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Look, you didn’t tell me we were coming to a bunker from the 90s. What am I supposed to do, dust off one of those TVs and watch Bill Nye?”

Lucien shrugged. “You probably could. I think I have some tapes around here somewhere.”

“Wait, for real?” Philip perked up, “Cause that would be kinda dope. I haven’t watched Bill Nye in years. Well… good Bill Nye. His Netflix series was fucking terrible.”

“So I hear.” Lucien smiled. “Do you want me to find the tapes?”

“Yes! Please.” Philip nodded, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright. Just a moment. They’re definitely in one of the these boxes, but I’m not sure which…” Lucien gestured to a corner of the room that was stacked floor to ceiling with cardboard crates.

Philip gaped. “Oh, shit. Good luck.”

“Don’t you doubt me. I’m fairly sure they were right.... Here.” Lucien slid a box from the middle of a stack, like he was playing jenga. Flipping open the top, he grinned. “Bill Nye, the Science Guy. Am I good, or am I good?”

“You’re pretty good.” Philip smiled, coming over to dig through the tapes. He grabbed one at random and went over to plug in the nearest TV. “This is gonna be awesome.”