California Fallon

I grew up in Alaska with no extended family nearby. My mother’s family hailed from Montana and because of the expense we could only visit them every two years or so. My father’s family was really just Grandma Mary who also lived in Alaska, but since my parents were divorced, we saw her rarely. I remember being a little girl and considering how awful it must have been for my mother to only see her brother and sister every two years. I vowed it would not be so with me – that I would never go more than a month without seeing my siblings. And then, we all grew up and went our separate ways, and there was a time when it had been more than five years since I had seen my sisters! I’m frustrated by the constraints of time and money, and I suppose, prioritizing, that keeps us from the people that we love the very most in our lives.
All of this is a preface to say that I have spent a few days with my daughter Natalie and her family in Pasadena, CA. I get to see my sweet granddaughter and her good parents every few months, but it just doesn’t feel like enough. Katrina is in Utah, and Joey is in Flux, while Natalie appears to be permanently ensconced in California. I scheme away trying to think of ways to get my whole family together and I am chronically frustrated. My kids balk when I suggest they can all live with us forever, but what is a mother/grandmother to do? Solutions?

I think I'm purple

I have long been dormant in my blog writing; you know, it is one of those things that when you put off too long, like an overdue phone call to a friend, you wonder if you can get back into the groove, if the blog is still relevant, if anyone out there will even care…….

So, I write in hopes that others read, but I think I am writing today to work some things out for myself in the political arena.  Rick and I have long been intellectual pals – he is smart and has great ideas and I like to bask in his intellect and bounce my own, wackily formed ideas off his sound ideology.

This political season, we have parted ways.  Early this spring, I determined that Obama most closely matched my political beliefs, while Rick, who was intrigued by the left at first, has more firmly become entrenched in his seat on the McCain train.  Our discussions have become frigid and we seem to find no common ground to agree upon. 

Our children, Caroline and Joey, can’t stand our volatile discussions and Caroline told me recently that when she gets married she wants her husband to have the same political views as she does.  Uh oh.  How did we get so off track from one another?

I am not one for introspection – I don’t always care why I do or think something; I just do, but I have been giving this a lot of thought. 

You see, Rick is afraid that if Obama wins, life as we know it will never be the same.  He thinks that the Muslim influence will negatively affect our Christian country and that the liberals will make inroads into places that they will never relinquish.  On the other hand, I think that Obama has good ideas and that our country needs some major directional changes; however, if all goes awry and we do head for Hell in that proverbial hand basket, then we will just vote for a new president in four years.  Or, if things go from good to awful in two years, then we can just elect new U.S. Representatives as they are all up for re-election then. 

Honestly, I think what Rick and my other right-wing friends are afraid of is more about the changes in society and less about the coming political changes.

While Obama supports abortion and same-sex marriage, he doesn’t advocate for a constitutional change, but we see states battling these issues in their own political races, not because Obama is running for president. 

I, too, am afraid for our country’s future, but I still believe in our country.  Come what may, I believe that God’s guidance is on the leader’s of our nation.  Come November 5^th, I think I will be happy no matter the result.

What do you think? 

I wept when I read this book....

And not so much because I was sad, but mostly because this book, to me, is a story about hope and love set in a dark, bleak world of unspeakable destruction.  It seems I am always late to the table when finding a great book; I have never discovered one on my one, but have to be persuaded to read many a book that I eventually fall in love with.  The Road is one of them.  I heard of it and thought that I couldn't stand to read a post-apocalyptic book that was starts with a premise of hopelessness and ends less so....... 

Those who know me know I like a good upturn of events in a book - romance before tragedy unless it's Shakespeare - I always say.  The Road is poignant and sweet and terrible.  

Read it so we can talk about it!

The Greatest Works.....

Boyd K Packer, in a speech about art and Latter-day Saints said, 
"I mentioned earlier that the greatest hymns and anthems have not been composed, nor have the greatest illustrations been set down, nor the poems written, nor the paintings finished. When they are produced, who will produce them? Will it be the most talented and the most highly trained among us? I rather think it will not. They will be produced by those who are the most inspired among us. Inspiration can come to those whose talents are barely adequate, and their contribution will be felt for generations; and the Church and kingdom of God will move forward just a little more easily because they have been here."

I think this is why I love the Twilight Seriesso much.  It is the same reason I love the writings of Orson Scott Card  Not because I share a religion with them both, but because they share their religion so well through their art.  

You see, I love to write, and I've thought about writing a MORMON story or book, but my idea was to make it "REAL", you know the truths about Mormon living, good and bad. But I'm rethinking my plan.  Stephenie Meyer and Orson Scott Card write about truths in human nature (which are compelling and universal) and stay true to the nature of God and the tenets in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  People are good in Meyer and Card's writings.  

Meyer especially has made me re-think teen fiction.  I work with teenagers and most teens I know aren't like the ones Meyer portrays in her Twilight series .  Most of the teens I know unapologetically engage in all sorts of vices.  But that isn't how it has to be and that isn't the reality for many, many young people with solid morals and standards.  I like that there are places to go where the ugly realism hasn't permeated. 

Rock on, good Mormon writers, may you replenish the earth! 

Teaching Reading

My job for the summer (well, two weeks anyway) is to teach reading to children entering 3rd grade!  Really, I am helping a lead teacher and I have to teach a few lessons and then I do a lot of assessments.  Some of my classmates (we are all working in separate classrooms) think the experience is ho-hum; after all many of them work with this age of kids all year long.  But not me!  I love teaching kids this age - they are so open and honest and vulnerable.  I only worked with a few of them on Thursday and I got a half-dozen hugs and a large bouquet of clover and dandelions.  The school I am working at is drawing kids from across the district, but most of the students who are coming to summer school do so because they need help with reading.  It should be no surprise to those who work with struggling readers that the kids are generally ethnic minorities, come from non-intact homes, and live in poverty. My niece, Renae, will relate to the names on my roster:  Ivanov, Kim, Valesquez - Russian, Korean, and Mexican. What an exciting, vibrant experience.  Unpretentious, they share painful life stories so easily.  It makes me wonder if THIS is where I should work - with younger children, where school can make such a difference.  Now, if I could just figure out how to get a gig in Hawaii!

So, I ignobly hurt myself playing tennis this week.  I TORE my plantaris tendon (yea, look it up, you might not even have one).

I might be a baby, but it really hurts to walk on it so the Dr gave me a splint, crutches, and vicoden and I sat on my bed for two days and imperially ordered Joey and Caroline around.  

I did learn that if I walk on my toes and keep my knee bent, I am in little pain,  but I'm not very good at sustaining this posture, so I rely on the crutches.  The Plantaris Tendon is sometimes called "fools tendon" b/c some people don't even have one and there isn't any real use for it except to cause a lot of pain when you tear it.  The cool thing is that I HEARD it pop and the tear felt like a rubber band snapping....

Anyway, I was thinking that there couldn't be a worse time, but certainly there could have been.  How about the last week of school?  Ugh.  Terrible time to be on crutches

Or my time in Hawaii?  Ooooh, that would have sucked.

Or when there is ice and snow on the ground?  Messy and yucky.

So, in the midst of all this inconvenience there are many things to be thankful for.  I am glad to have a leg even if it isn't working right now.

Joey's Home......Yo

Things I missed about Joey:

1.  His amazing energy.  He can't seem to stop.  Running, tennis, basketball, driving here, going there.  He's a dervish.

2.  His love of my cooking.  He says thank you every time I cook anything.  It is great to be appreciated.

3.  His tallness.  He can reach lightbulbs and shelves and cobwebs (if he weren't afraid of spiders).

4.  His biceps.  Oh my gosh, Joey can bench a refrigerator.  If I got a flat tire, he could lift up the car and change it.

Things I didn't miss about Joey:

1.  Mi Cara, su Cara.....for those of you who don't speak Spanglish, that means my car is somehow, through Joey's  amazing magic, his car.

2.  He was away from home for 8 months and still can't figure out how to make cup-o-noodles.  Lord help us.

3.  He lets our crazy dog, Jack, on the couch.  I know he does it even if he denies it to my face.

4.  I still worry about him.....somewhere inside this big grown up man is a young boy thinking about jumping off a cliff.

Growing Compassion

I recently took a small class to Seattle Center to see Tibetan leader in exile, the 14th Dalai Lama.  A wizened, humble man with a constant smile, the Dalai Lama's impressiveness was less about his speech and more about his presence.  While the Dalai Lama wasn't always easy to understand, there was no mistaking the love that he feels for all humanity.  I hope my students are inspired by the idea of using terms like peace, understanding, forgiveness, and, yes, love when talking about world issues.  The Dalai Lama says that compassion is a SECULAR concept and should not e relegated to religion.  Amen.

Out with the old

There is something about springtime that just makes me want to throw things away.  I want to see things clean and dust free, drawers that are free of stuff I never wear, papers I have been saving trashed, and, in short, everything neat, tidy, and spring-cleaned.  Now, here is the rub:  I want everything to be be clean, but I don't necessarily want to be the one to clean it!  Every time I start a home project, I get overwhelmed.  I am not a decorate or a remodeler.  When someone says, "Anyone idiot can do it!" they haven't met me.  For instance, in my room are some very old blue curtains.  The are uuuuuuugly and I look at them and wish I could figure out a way to change them.  Yeah, I know, it can't be too hard, right?  Well, they are on a rod with a pulley system and I once tried to change out curtains like this and I ended up breaking them.  I've always just had curtains I could slide on a rod and use tie backs when I needed to open them.  Did I just not get the decor gene that most women I know have?  Am I just not adventurous enough?  I want decorating to be static; you know, I just want to do it once and then forget about it.  Unfortunately, styles come and go and stuff changes.  Today I threw out a half dozen wall hangings I made 15 years ago - all with hearts and sentiments about home and covered with dust.  How did I ever think they were cute?  I need a decorating makeover.    

Spring Break...baby gone wild

So here I am in So Cal on Spring Break.  There is no other place I'd rather be then with my family.  The trouble is that my family is in three different places:  Washington, Utah, and California.  Rick's job is demanding, and because he works as a contractor, when he doesn't work, we get no moolah, so it is HARD for him to leave.  The kids and I are all tied to our school schedules...oh, come to think of it, we are all tied to some kind of obligation and opportunity cost.  Earlier in our marriage, Rick and I struggled to do things because we had economic limitations; now it is all about time, time, time.  Never enough of the stuff, too much of it passes too quickly, and the impossibility of time travel makes it so that we constantly have to choose between many options.  Sigh......

Baby Fallon in person is a joy, Natalie and Will are diligent parents, and Pasadena is sweet and sunny.  Week went too quickly.

California dreamin'

California with my gorgeous grandbaby, Fallon and my almost as gorgeous daughter, Katrina.

Slammin' Poetry

I have a tendency to get a little obsessive about things I'm interested in at the moment; you know, the issue d'jour, if you will.  Last year, I went to a poetry slam and became reconverted to the power of the spoken word.  This performance poetry reaffirms my belief in the the ability of words to connect all humanity through "universal truths."  I took some of my students to a poetry slam, many of them fell in love with the genre, and we wrote and performed powerful poetry in class.  We even had a small open mic session at the Family Support Center.  A year later, kids are still writing, still interested, and still anxious to have their voices heard in the Seattle Slam circuit.  So, last Friday I took some kids to the Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center in midtown Seattle and they competed for spots on the Youth Speaks Poetry Team.  It was......everything you would want in an evening of powerful wordsmithery...  One of my students made it into the finals and the other didn't make it out of the first round.  Both were beyond beautiful in their bravery and their heartfelt emotions.  Maybe the whole thing sounds too beatnickish to you, but it is so cool that you will just get swept up in the language ride.  So, this is what you should do.  Find a poetry slam in your area and go to one.  Maybe you'll feel like writing a little afterwards.  Maybe, like me, you'll find your head aswhirl with unwritten poems, awakened by the knock knocking of forgotten feelings.  It's about the poetry, my friends.  

P.S.  Ya, I know that Baby Fallon has nothing to do with poetry, but isn't she cute?  And besides, remember my theory?

No easy choices....

So I've noticed that people respond much more favorably to blogs with pictures of cute babies on them.  I'm thinking of beginning all of my blogs with pictures of Fallon.  Of course, Caroline is a cute no-longer-a-baby and therein lies this week's dilemma.  I have been "coaching" Caroline's Imagination/Creativity team and we competed on Saturday at Lake Stevens High School.  Because we have one 6th grader on the team, we are in the sparse category of middle schoolers.  We competed against 2 other teams and beat them both for a berth to state in Wenatchee.  Great, right?  Well, I have tickets to California to see my beautiful grandbaby beginning on the 27th. Took off a day of work to extend spring break. Bought a non-refundable ticket.  Didn't even know when the state competition was. Thought maybe the kids on my team would just be happy with the win and not really care about the trip to Wenatchee.  You know, the joy is in the journey, right? Thought wrong. Turns out that going to state for anything may well be the highlight in an 11 year old's life. I'm working it out that Caroline can go with Rick, but I can't bring myself to change my plans; I don't even want to think about it.  Ahead of me I have a meeting with parents, a "give me money" plea with the school board, and a b'jillian things to do to make it all work without me actually being there.  I will probably take some flak and I will certainly have residual guilt feelings for years to come, but I can't do it all, right?

My life (thus far) as a student...

I have been a student at many colleges.  At 18, I thought the University of Montana was the center of the universe.  This is where I read the words of Emerson and Thoreau and where I first acted on the stage.  This is where I stayed up all night just talking, and where I could linger at the local coffee shop over chocolate chip cookies pondering just the idea of what life had to offer. 

BYU was where I learned discipline and where I learned to write.  Where I decided that I wanted to be a teacher.....  

The University of Texas was a place where I felt like I got to SHINE as a student.  I was more mature (read, older) and more focused and school came easier to me. Much later, I enrolled at Everett Community College for Spanish where I learned that I should have started learning a language a long time ago.  

Now I am a student at City University in the Master's of Reading and Literacy program.  I love learning new ideas that I can apply right away to my classes. It is a GRAND experience to know that I am involved in cutting edge best practices that I can put into play immediately.   But.....(and you knew this was coming) I long for the swirl of ideas that surrounded my colleges of yesterday.  At City U, we pay dearly for our education.  We all have busy lives and we commute to the school one weekend a month, eyes always on the clock, anxious to know what is required, and discarding anything that we don't "have to know."  I remember how back in the day what I learned was more important than the grade I received; the experience was more valuable than the result.  I loved the discovery of thoughts that made me feel so connected to humanity; the excitement of feeling VITAL and pertinent and a part of something bigger. Alas, I don't feel that at my weekend school.  Maybe I am foolish to miss it so much.

To reveal or not to reveal...

One of the more difficult things for me to decide when writing my blog is how much of my personal life I should talk about here in my open diary.  I have explored some blogs that are so personal they take me aback.  How are people so willing to share with strangers?  Aren't they nervous that they might say something untoward or outrageous?  What if, by revealing true feelings and episodes, they piss off a friend or relative? Some blogs take off pictures and resort to initials as a mark of anonymity; others use pseudonyms while still others just don't care.

I certainly edit myself.  This is not a tell-all, it is just my musings although I try to be open and honest in my writing.  So, let me ask you - do you think the blog should be a place of  broad revelation or cautious discussion?  Should I air my dirty laundry or show you only my Sunday best?  In the age of Taxi-cab confessions and an abundance of reality television, how over-the-top do we need to be in order to get somebody's attention?  I opened this blog with a picture of me and my daughter, Caroline..... have I said too much?

Drama, trauma, and no honor....

Well, hell, I suppose I should be Happy, and I am, but I am also confused.  See, I posted a LARGE reward for the return of my ipod, I sent out the word among the ne'er do wells of my acquaintance, and I said a few prayers.  So, I shouldn't have been surprised to get some hits, right?  If only it were that easy.  

First, one of my students tells me he knows who stole my ipod; he saw it, held it, and talked to the guy.  Bingo!  But, since we were talking on the d/l and not mentioning any real names, I get confused and think he is talking about another guy......  Then, a girl tells me that while she was working at the local pawn shop, yet another student tried to pawn the ipod but the shop refused cause it was all too shady. (Yeah, I know, who knew that pawn shops took the high ground!) Then, the hall monitor tells me that one of her charges implicated a third suspect.  Frankly, I was back to thinking that the entire school was in cahoots...

Thursday, I have a confrontation with the first student - he denies, denies, denies, and then tells me he knows who took the damn thing.  Friday, the kid comes to my classroom with the ipod and tells me he stole it back from the kid who took it.  I'm thrilled.  I love the irony of the kid stealing from the thief.  I tell him to come back on Tuesday for his reward.

Tuesday, no kid.

Tuesday night, I get a call on my cell phone  from the kid (Yikes!  They have my cell phone number!) and he is agitated and it sounds like he is crying.  "Mrs. Haywood," he yells.  "I can't live with this guilt.  I stole your ipod.  I don't know why I did it.  I don't know what's wrong with me.  I'm sorry."  The kid is a wreck.  He tells me that he stole his sister's ipod and pawned it and now he has been kicked out of his house.  I want to tell him he's a craphead, but I take a deep breath and I tell him, once again, that everything he does is a choice and that he can choose something different whenever he wants.  And because he is calling at night on my cell phone, I tell him that he needs to start listening to God and that God loves him and that he is worthwhile.  Then I offer to help him get into a vocational program.  He tells me he is headed north to live with a friend who can get him a job and hook him up with another alternative program.  I know the friend he is talking about - he's a druggie who never finished high school.

"Okay," I say to the kid.  "You know my number."

I got my ipod touch back, the ipod-stealing kid is out of my hair......so why do I feel so bad? 

Reading is good for you...

We just started a school wide reading program at the high school where I teach. After much deliberation and a little library luck, we decided on Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game as a good first book for what we knew would be a resistant group of teenagers.  But, oh mylanta (I know, it's so goofy, it's cool) I wasn't prepared for the maelstrom.  Here is a litany of some of the complaints:  "It's Science Fiction!"  "It has swear words!" "I don't understand it!" "It's too easy."  "This is stupid (retarded, gay, dumb, boring, etc)!"  "It's a religious book!"  Okay, now I have to pause and just take a little umbrage on this silly last statement.  Ender's Game is a science fiction book that takes place in a quasi-dystopia society where government extends control to things such as family size and religion.  Can I make something clear?  Just because one says the word "religion" in a book, doesn't mean that the book is religious.  I've gotten so cranky over the incessant whining that I resort to saying "Suck it up!" to all whiners.  I think I'm going to make my students read the book twice; that'll teach 'em.

First you lie...then you steal...

About ten days ago, I left my classroom unoccupied to teach a class in another building. While I was gone, someone stole my BRAND NEW ipod touch.....yeah.....it just pisses me off recounting it here.  The problem with someone stealing from me is that I suspect everyone and it makes me want to think of the worst of all.  I just took a new 9th grade class and I wonder if it was one of them?  Maybe the kid I hollered at in the hall the other day?  Maybe my chronic skippers or the known drug users in our school?  Maybe it is someone I wouldn't normally suspect.  I put the word out to all my kids, offered a reward, and was SURE that I would get the ipod back right away.  No such luck.  

I taught in one of the poorest barrios in El Paso, TX and in a school that catered to low income students in Louisville, KY, and no one ever took anything from me ever.  I grew up in a small town in Alaska where no one locked their doors and people left their car keys on the floorboards of their cars in case anyone wanted to borrow a vehicle.  I don't steal and I am flabbergasted that anyone would steal from me.

One student told me it was my own fault for leaving my ipod unattended.  I suppose he is right, but, what the hell?  My Mom used to tell us kids, "First you lie, then you steal, and then you murder."  Of course this was her way of keeping us from stealing the chocolate chips, but it sure worked.  

You've got to be an optimist to be a Democrat......

..and you've got to be an humorist to stay one!!  Will Rogers said this pithy truism sometime in the early part of the 20th century, and I appreciate his guidance in this election year.

Since I "came out" as a Dem, everyone wants to talk me out of it, like if they only tell me this one terrible thing about Clinton or Obama, I will come to my senses and get back on the McCain Train.  So, I've been thinking about my politics very carefully.  Okay, I'm not a Drudge reader like my brilliant husband, or an article clipper like the effervescent Ann Rankin, or a lifelong Dem-on-principal like many of my amazing friends, but I am smitten with Barack Obama.  

Yep, if Obama asked me to, I'd go steady with him (sorry, honey, it's his rhetoric).  When I was 22, I campaigned for Terry Miller, the Alaskan Gubernatorial Republican Candidate. I door-knocked, and rallied, and held my breath when he spoke.  He lost and, except for Ross Perot in 1992, I've had no real bouts with political fever or fervor......until now.  

Color me blue, baby, I'm in for the long haul.

My First Caucus

I don't even know where to start, but today I volunteered to represent my precinct as a delegate for Barrack Obama! I've always been politically active, but casting a vote for a Democratic candidate makes me feel like I'm batting for the other team.  I think I've been a Dem in my heart for some time now, but I have conservative values that I have felt were better matched in the Republican party.  Whoooooo.......I feel kinda free, like I just took my bra off and decided not to shave my legs.  

The caucus was CRAAAAAZZZY.  The planners didn't plan well so there were long lines and lots of confusion, but the process was rejuvenating.  

I'll bet you'd (hmmmm, I think my readership is kinda low, so maybe I'm just writing to myself here) like to know why I am supporting Barrack Obama and why just saying so makes me feel like I'm a part of something enormous?  Stay tuned......

What's this all about?

So, my blog is called "Thinking about reading"  because I was hoping to use blogs in some of my English classes, but I hadn't counted on the blog police at the high school where I teach deciding that blogging is something high schoolers shouldn't do.  Now I have a blog with no true purpose except maybe a place to talk about books.....and my beautiful grandbaby.  Oh, and I'm prepared to fight the good fight to get Edublogging into my high school.  See, my plan is to give the assignment this highfaluting name of Edublogging (nope, I didn't invent it) to get it past the firewall.