Incomplete Idiot

"I've heard someone say that our problems aren't the problem; it's our solutions that are the problem. That tends to be one thing that goes wrong for me — my solutions." - Anne Lamott

Name:
Location: Georgia, United States

I am currently the Logistics Coordinator for MCYM/Club Beyond Europe (my missions agency is Young Life, just to be confusing). :0) I have traveled to many parts of this world, but I'm not as well-traveled as I would like to be some day. I have had more jobs than I can count, and my list of interests grows everyday. I take seriously Paul's urging to be "all things to all people". Mostly, I am interested in being a friend to all the folks I have been blessed to meet, because I am discovering (slowly) that it is not all about me.

Friday, May 26, 2006

Looks like I made it...

I am a recovering Barry Manilow fan, it's true. As opposed to his song title, "Looks Like WE Made It", which suggests a story of two people who helped each other get over their shared romance, my title suggests that I made it through my first year of teaching!!! My time this year was not easy, but after hearing other's horror stories I know it could have been much, much worse. Teaching at my alma mater proved to be weird on a regular basis, but I kept the pesky voices of the past at bay by being extremely busy. Not having a clue what you are doing 90% of the time can really keep you hopping. All the teacher-types tell me next year will be so much better, but it will take about three years to really feel like I know what I'm doing. I'm kind of hoping against ever really feeling like I know what I'm doing - that would just encourage my tendency to stop relying on the One who really keeps this whole thing moving to begin with. I had wonderful mentors and an extremely generous staff who would help me in times of panic.

I can't help feeling that I need to send out apology letters to my first year students. I think many of them suspected my novice status - perhaps it was that stricken look of fear that I would occasionally give when things didn't go like I thought they would. About once a week a student would ask me how long I had been teaching. I never really lied...but I definitely included my student teaching experience and all those years as a Young Life leader in my pathetic attempts to answer that question. I also had similar aversion techniques in answering questions like, "What year did you graduate?" and "How old ARE you?" I think the general consensus was that I graduated in the late 90's and I am now somewhere in my mid-20's. God Bless those kids!!



As expected from coming out of a youth ministry background, discipline was the hardest area for me to get a handle on. I take solace in scripture which describes discipline as form of love. I'm not afraid to discipline kids, but it is certainly not my favorite thing to do. Mostly, I hated giving detention. There has got to be a better way of discplining a kid than having them show up after school (when all I really want to do is finally go to the bathroom and go home) and sit in my room and stare at the walls. If I could make them do it I would force them to scrape all the gum off the bottoms of the desks, but there is sure to be law against that. So we sit there while I try to get whatever grading I have done and the kid either trying to fall asleep or attempting to mentally make time go faster by staring at the clock on the wall. Maybe next year I'll make them memorize poetry...that'll get them to behave in class!

All in all it was a great year...Teacher Orientation, pre-planning, panic, Open House, panic, Homecoming Pep Rally cotton candy eating contest, Katrina fundraising, I Love Lucy for Halloween,panic, stomach flu, Christmas break, whew, 2nd semester,having more of a clue, visit to Colorado, having to find a sub for three days, panic, research projects, grading, more grading, panic subsiding, Spring Break, more grading, Powder Puff victory, Prom, Graduation...nine weeks of bliss, then I get to do it all over again!

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Everybody Promenade...

Prom is short for promenade which means "a march of all the guests at the opening of a ball" (American Heritage Dictionary). Long gone are the days of marching in step to the sounds of the orchestra, and long gone are the days of the waltz, the foxtrot, the two step, and the box step. On Friday night, May 12th I chaparoned the high school prom as I have done most of my adult life, either in the role of Young Life leader, or now, teacher. I have noticed some things over the years. These high schoolers did no marching that was discernable. They did "bump and grind". For those unfamiliar with that term, I will attempt to explain. Bumping and grinding is considered by those who partake as a form of dancing. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Bumping and grinding requires one "dancing" partner (usually the female) to turn from facing her partner to facing out into the crowd but still staying in close proximity to the male. While the music thumps along, the couple basically bounces up and down to the beat while being somewhat suggestive in their movements. That is not dancing...it's more like doing squat-thrusts without the benefit of having a track meet to run in. I have a theory...

I think that "dancing" in such a manner keeps the couple from actually having to communicate with each other, and it gives the added bonus of the couple being able to check out all the other people on the dance floor without making eye contact with their dance partner. Think about it. Guys usually claim to hate dancing, and they live for the slow dances where they assume the position where the girl sort of hangs off the guy's neck like a loosened necktie while they make slow circles with a shuffling step. Bumping and grinding lets guys back into the fast dance without the embarrassment of having to go it alone, and besides the obvious Freudian imagery produced by this type of interaction, it gives the couple an intimate look without the intimacy of the conversation they are terrified to initiate.

My coveted role at this year's prom was to monitor said dancing and attempt to separate any over zealous participants. I arrived around 9pm, by 9:30pm the dance floor had reached a steamy 100 degrees fahrenheit. I did my best to separate my high school friends with humor as opposed to force. Clearly, I was not going to get anywhere dishing out idle threats. Mostly I would approach a couple and ask the guy to face his date and then ask him if he thought she was looking good this evening. The guy always answered in the affirmative. Then I would point out that she probably went to a lot of trouble to look that way and that he should spend more time looking at her face rather than the back of her head. The couple usually chuckled and said that they would.I know that as soon as I was out of their eye line they more than likely returned to the previously described stance, but I was hoping my approach at the very least gave them something to think about.

I really do like aspects of the prom. It is nice to see the kids all dressed up. The guys looking so handsome in their suits and tuxes. Some of them even shaved. More than one of the guys this year went out and bought a brand new baseball cap to match their outfit. The girls look like beauty pageant contestants, all of them. There are always those great renagade kids who create their own look and just cut loose from the chains of social norms, and there are those who say, "the heck with a date, I'm here for the dancing".

So, the prom will march on. Hopefully, bumping and grinding will lose its popularity, but until then, I'll root for the kids who show up to dance and try my best to keep them looking in the right direction.





Kyle, one of my students, with his date. Kyle restored this 1947 Willy Truck after it was pulled out of Phinizy Swamp! Way to go Kyle! Sorry, no pictures of the "dancing". I want to keep this blog PG...OK, PG-13!