The Missing - Philippa Boyens
Héo naefre wacode dægréd
Tó bisig mid dægeweorcum
Ac oft héo wacode sunnanwanung
Ðonne nihtciele créap geond móras
And on ðaere hwile
Héo dréag ðá losinga
Earla ðinga ðe héo forléas.
Héo swá oft dréag hire sáwle sincende
Héo ne cúðe hire heortan lust.
Look the translation up. This is amazing.
Essays, random spoutings, and occasional stupid humor from the desk of the Wife.
roses
Monday, July 31, 2006
Amazing poetry.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Knight in Shining Armor
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung
Beside remote Shalott.All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over still Shalott.His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
I am at a loss for a title...
I didn't fully realize the extent of it until I did the following:
As I was outlining my manuscript in the effort to make editing easier I had to do something to make it easier to visualize how the battle was unfolding for a scene.
First I attempted to role-play the scene. It worked in the past when I had a difficult time determining how situations unfolded in something I was writing. Initial evidence that I am a gamer and I play in a LARP. Sad thing is, I've been doing this long before I started LARPing. When most children stopped playing pretend, I continued doing so for the sake of improving my writing.
Now that you all know *that* dark secret...
This didn't work entirely. Made it clear for me to understand how the action unfolded for one character, but not the scene. So I made my second attempt...
I took out some graph paper and drew a diagram. Have you ever played a tabletop role-play game? Like Dungeons & Dragons? Well, I had a flash back to my highschool days as a DM. (That's Dungeon Master for the unititiated. Also known as GOD or Games Operation Director.)
The sad part of all this, I've realized that I will probably need to continue this geekery to get my battle scenes consistant in my manuscript.
...
Boy am I glad that I'm home alone as I'm writing. I'd be embaressing if I got caught doing this. :P
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
What I'm currently doing:
2. Digesting lunch of ramen noodles and salad w/ a side of V8: Spicy & Hot
3. Taking a break from building an outline for the beast of a manuscript I've been fighting with
4. Wondering what the heck I'm going to make for dinner tonight
5. Debating if I should drag out the sewing machine I'm borrowing and do some mending
6. Contemplating folding and putting away laundry
7. Refusing to wash dishes until 5 pm
...
I think that about covers it. :p
Last night, I had a minor anxiety attack. It was horrid. After Dan and I talked for a bit, I then chatted with Stargazer. Out of it all came one rather prevelant theme:
Stop fighting to make things happen before they should.
I feel like a crazy lady about 80% of the time recently. It's made it hard for me to do much of anything, let alone get serious progress made on my fantasy manuscript. Combined with this recent spat of hot weather, I've been having nightmares again. Odd things that I can't fully remember, leaving me only with this unreasoning bit of terror that I need to cover myself with blankets and hide my feet.
Yeah, I don't get it either. It was a little fear during the night that I had as a child. Not quite being afraid of the monster under the bed, but something simmilar. To say the least, I'm having to struggle along with that fear. It's way too hot for me to put a blanket over myself. Somehow, I managed to keep the sheet on me. I didn't sleep well last night. When I woke up at 9:30 this morning, 2 hours later then I planned on, I was rather well wrapped in that thing. :P I think it took me about ten minutes to untangle myself.
As I do my best to follow the advice of all of my wonderful friends (thanks again Andrew!) I hope that these fears will ease up some. If not, well... I may be writing gibberish up here as I will have lost my marbles.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
okay... this is odd...
But this inflatable spacecraft concept? This is crazy. It's like trying to go to the ocean with a rubber dinghy. You just don't do it and expect to survive.
What are they going to think of next?
Thursday, July 06, 2006
The image says it all
Which tarot card are you?
Stargazer, I *know* you're cracking up at this. :)
I was doing a search to find more places seeking tarot readers and stumbled on to this site to determine what card you were most like. This was the result.
You ever get the feeling that the Divine is laughing?
Monday, July 03, 2006
email is not always reliable
Comments that never reached me. Some days, technology is conspiring against me. I'm certian of it. I am even more convinced that what my husband does for work is truly the Black arts and I am the barest version of a neophyte.
computers = evil
me using computers = mickey mouse playing with magic ala fantasia
computer acting up = brooms taking over the world
And that's my story and I'm sticking to it! :)
update/ranting - writing/job stuff
Now, dear Reader, I know you are curious as to why I'm upset with my local job market. The reason is because there is one type of job that is overwhelmingly present as a temporary position available: factory work. I know just how much I abhorr factory work. There are people that can do it, actually enjoy if not love it, and are quite good at it. My brother is a stellar example of it. God love him for it, but I just can't do it. So, I'm still looking. Nothing's exactly available in the clerical sector except for those temp-perm positions. I could do that, but then I'd need to give up that lovely job in the fall.
Things can change any day, though, so I keep looking. It's odd when not even the grocery store is hiring for help, though. If I'm lucky, I may get that diswasher position at the restaraunt down the street. If I'm really lucky, I may get that tarot reader job that I applied for on-line. Yes, you read that correctly, tarot reader. One of my hobbies is reading tarot. I've been doing it for about ten years now. I've been told that I'm quite good. So, I figure I'll take a swing at doing this tarot reading professionally. It may make a nice little thing to do on the side as school gets back into session. I know that there's a few people that manage to make enough money to support themselves and live in a comfortable life style reading cards. It's a niche market that not too many people fill around here in western NY.
Even as I am trying to muddle my way through the job market, I have been working on my writing. I am editing my fantasy novel. It is slowly progressing. I am still baffled by the fact that I need to add material. It doesn't usually happen that way in something I write. I am usually taking material out when I edit. I have the synopsis drafted out. I need to actually sit down and type it up. I'm rather terrified of doing so, however.
I will confess, I am utterly terrified of sending out my manuscript. My terror, however, is not so much of being rejected but of being a brilliant succcess. It is an unreasonable terror. I know that I can produce additional books in this particular story line. I've got the plot maps for 17 books sitting on my desk at home right now as I am typing this. I'm just afraid that I'll really screw up with having more money and put us into insane debt. I think what I'm going to do is let my husband worry about the money when it comes in. I'll just write. After all, he's better at math then I am. :)
At the same time that I'm working on this fantasy novel, I have other writing projects that I am working on. I have a children's book aimed at the toddler age group that I have half completed. It's a rather cute little story about a catapiller's chrysalis process. The concept has been done to death and yet it still sells. So, I'm going to write it. The kids at the daycare kept asking me to write a children's book after I started drawing pictures for them and telling them stories. I can't ignore it. I also have my neices that I need to write something for.
Another juvinile book that I'm working on is a reprise of a story that I wrote when I was a child. This is being elaborated upon and improved. The basic storyline and character concepts remain the same, however. The interesting thing about this story is that I had it published in a magazine as a girl. I am considering going thru my old material from when I was in junior high and late elementary school (what this particular item dates to) and scrounging up a few more peices to reinvent. This item is still in the intial stages, though.
Finally, I have a magnum opus (perhaps) of my geekery at work. No, not that marvelous theory proving Enstine wrong. I'm still working on the math for that. When I manage it, then I will present it and pick up my Nobel Prize. What I am working on is the factual history of the relgion of Witchcraft (also known as Wicca/Old Religion/the Craft/etc.). Stargazer is helping me out with this, the wonderful doll that she is. Fortunately, she and I are of the same mindset on this particular project. Collaboration is going to be most interesting. I've floated out the idea of sending this down to the wonderful nuns that educated us at college with the note attached "Here's that doctoral thesis you were asking about."
(Once, my relgion instructor asked me what I was reading and I explained that I was doing personal research. I then explained that I had about 5 yrs of research in. She asked me when I was publishing my thesis.)
update/ranting - health
"Why?" you ask.
Well, dear Reader, it is because most doctors are generally money grubbing morons with little if any sense of doing the right thing anymore. It is an exceptionally bitter statement, I know, but as you read on, I suspect you will understand where I am coming from on this matter. You may, possibly, even empathise with is. First, to those members of the medical community that may have taken some measure of offense at what I just said, I apologize for offending you. Please note the clause "most" is used in the earlier statement, not "all." I recognize that such blanket statements are invariably false. (Irony = using a blanket statement to denounce blanket statements)
My wonderful doctor, when I was diagnosed with PCOS explained to me that it causes me to have light facial hair and cysts upon my ovaries. I was told that it required hormone therapy to control the problem and it was the reason why my menstrual cycle was so horribly messed up. Over the last 5 (approximately) years, I had that simple understanding. I told myself, "Well, you don't need to fear being sterile. You just get cysts from time to time. It's not so horribly bad."
Mind you, as a child and for many years, I was terrified that I would not beable to have children due to the genetic complications that I've inherited from my maternal line. During the last 3 years, I had managed to actually convince myself of that earlier semi-positive statement. My occasional terrors were precicely that, occasional terror. Then, my dear and darling husband and I started to try to have a child.
That started back towards the end of last year. During March, I started to have problems. I had missed my period and I also felt like I had the beginnings of a cyst. I didn't worry about it, because I said "Hey, it may be that I'm pregnant." I did one of those wonderful stick tests, but no dice. I shrugged and proceeded not to worry about it. April came along, and that feeling of having a cyst had gotten worse. Also, no menstrual flow. I tried another test but it came up negative. So, I called my doctor.
As far as doctors go, I have to say that my current general practitioner is probably the best that I've had. He's right up there with the lung specialist that made it possible for me to breathe easily again with out the assistance of an Oxygen bottle at myside. He did a quick exam, deemed that an ultrasound was in order after doing a urine test and determining that I was not pregnant. In the midst of this period of time, I am having all the little stomach problems that go with having a cyst.
By this point of time, it is now the middle of May. No period, I'm utterly freaked out. Doing my best to remain calm, despite my obvious discomfort, and failing miserably. My dear friend Stargazer and my darling husband can attest to that. I was on the verge of anxiety attacks several times. The day of the ultrasound, the cyst pops. I have never had the experiance of having a cyst pop while I was conscious. I have had them rupture while I was sleeping and wake up roughly 8 hours later with my side feeling sore, almost like a bruise.
I was doubled over in pain so intense that I was immediately in tears. Two Aleve did nothing to it. It was 8 am and we were getting ready to go to work on a Friday morning. That didn't happen. Hubby and I first rushed to the doctor's office. We discovered that the office was closed on Fridays. So, we went to the other office that was affiliated. I was seen after a short wait where I recieved uneasy looks from the others in the waiting room. I suspect my face was white as a sheet at the time. A few gentle probing pokes, my nearly shouting in pain, and the time of the ultrasound was moved up. It also went from the standard investigation of the region of the ovaries and uterus to a full abdominal ultrasound.
So, we get into the car and stand on the gas all the way to the City. We just manage to get to the center for the ultrasound/radiology company (that's affiliated with the health care provider organization that my doctor is a part of) in time for my schedualed appointment. By this time, roughly three hours have passed. The pain has moved from feeling like some one had taken a hot poker and shoved it into my guts and twirled it around like spaghetti to just feeling like some one had taken a knife and done so. Still wretched, but not to the point of doubled over and crying, mostly.
The only word I can use to describe the abdominal ultrasound is excruciating. I had never had one before. I never wish to experience one again. It was most painful. The end of that day, my side had gone to feeling like it was kicked and it was determined that the cyst had ruptured. It was also determined that I had 2 more, much smaller cysts, on the other ovary. So, I got to go to a gynecologist. Not my most favorite thing in the world, but not half as embaressing as going to the dentist.
At the dentist, it's obvious that I take poor care of my teeth. The gynecologist is usually fairly happy to see that I take good care of my body, teeth not withstanding. Does the drama end here, with the specialist? No. I'm never that lucky. Life simply is not easy. Don't ever assume there will be a simple answer for me. Just ask my friend Stargazer, who complains every time I ask for a tarot reading "No, not the major arcana again!"
I had the dubious joy of being told by *this* doctor (ironically enough the one that had done the surgery to remove my cyst 5 yrs ago and diagnosed me) that we could not be sure that I had PCOS. We needed to do tests. I was upset, but I went forward with the tests. Tests that included one for my insulin levels, which had not been explained to me. I didn't understand the role that test would have for me in this situation. Thus, I engaged in another fit of anxiety.
After roughly a week of anxiety, I managed to not flip out. I also made sure I had a list of questions with me to get answers out of the gynocologist. (She walked in as I was writing the last few down and as she answered, I made sure I took notes!) I had the entire matter explained to me. I also had the less then stellar joy of being told that my insulin levels were off. I am hypoglycemic. Or at least, that's the diagnosis that can be made given the current tests.
I get to go and have another battery of tests done this week. I'm not looking forward to it. I freaked out initially, went to my general practitioner and said "Ok, what do I do to keep from getting diabetes?" After I had it explained to me the general changes I needed to make to my diet and that I should wait on the panic until after the fasting tests are done, I've calmed down some.
And I made the mistake of asking the Gods for some additional motivation to take care of my health and lose the extra weight I had. I'm not sure if I should be happy with this because I now know that I have a problem or upset because I am going to have to give up some of my favorite foods.
update/ranting - read if you really want to
A little over a week ago, the school year ended for the middle school that I was a teacher's aid at. I was given the little mum that apparently I was the only one to keep alive in the room and lots of good wishes for the summer. As it stands right now, I am expected to be back in the fall, they just have to decide what student I will be placed with. The principal of the school all but promised that I'd be there in the fall. At about the end of the summer, I'll find out what room/student I'm assigned to. I expect it to be the same child.
He was a sweet kid, when he felt like it. His biggest problem isn't the ADD or his reading/visual disorder. It's a self-dicipline matter. He kept throwing tantrums and his mother would keep treating him to things like watching tv all day and ice cream when he was thrown out of school for the week. It made me .... upset. While I respect that it is not my child, nor is it my place to tell the woman how to raise her child, I have to admit it made me more then a little angry. Capitulating to children isn't exactly a healthy thing.
It doesn't encourage them to take responcibility for their actions and it tells them that they can manipulate adults to get what they want. It lays down the foundation for them to grow into irresponcible adults that attempt to bully, lie, cheat, and fast talk their way thru life. Unless the child in question is going to grow up to be a politician, those life skills aren't exactly going to serve them well. Even more so, when the parent is enabling said child to avoid doing school work that is within their abilities and hindering their intellectual growth and development of vital skills for entering the workforce.
[pauses to take deep breath, hold and exhale to the count of 3.... 2..... 1]
To put that lightly, I'm a little upset with that. It made me angry. Almost as angry as learning that a child had been sexually assaulted on the school bus on their way to school by older children. Almost as angry as learning that a child would intentionally not do their homework and get into trouble so they would have somewhere to be after school, instead of home alone. Those two things made me livid, the first... it just made me quite angry. Some how, and I still don't know how, I managed to remain calm, genial, and plesant. Right up until 5 min after I was home and I then proceeded to rave about that.
So... the school year is ended. I'm now looking for work and doing some work on my fantasy novel. Editing is an interesting experience. Especially when you discover that you have about half of the word-count that you need and your story could use more details. Normally, I'm taking material out when I edit, not adding more to it. Needless to say, my deadline of sending the manuscript out to publishers for review by the beginning of this month did not get met. The story, however, has improved dramatically and will be sent to my beta readers in the near future. Additional ranting/updates follow this one, but are focused more on the individual topics.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Grandmother's Spam
THE DILLARD'S THIEF In San Antonio, Texas.
This is too funny! This could only be true, you can't make this stuff up.
Clutching their Dillard's shopping bags, Ellen and Kay woefully gazed down at a dead cat in
the mall parking lot. Obviously a recent hit---no flies, no smell.
What business could that poor kitty have had here?" murmured Ellen.
"Come on, Ellen, let's just go..."
But Ellen had already grabbed her shopping bag and was explaining, "I'll just put my things in your bag, and then I'll take the tissue." She dumped her purchases into Kay's bag and then used the tissue paper to cradle and lower the former feline into her own Dillard's bag and cover it.
They continued the short trek to the car in silence, stashing their goods in the trunk. But it occurred to both of them that if they left Ellen's burial bag in the trunk, warmed by the Texas sunshine while they ate, Kay's Lumina would soon lose that new-car smell.
They decided to leave the bag on top of the trunk, and they headed over to Luby's Cafeteria.
After they cleared the serving line and sat down at a window table, they had a view of Kay's Chevy with the Dillard's bag still on the trunk.
BUT not for long. As they ate, they noticed a black-haired woman in a red gingham shirt stroll by their car, look quickly this way and that, and then hook the Dillard's bag without breaking stride.
She quickly walked out of their line of vision. Kay and Ellen shot each other a wide-eyed look of amazement. It all happened so fast that neither of them could think how to respond.
"Can you imagine? " finally sputtered Ellen. "The nerve of that woman!"
Kay sympathized with Ellen, but inwardly a laugh was building as she thought about the grand surprise awaiting the red-gingham thief. Just when she thought she'd have to giggle into her napkin, she noticed Ellen's eyes freeze in the direction of the serving line. Following her gaze, Kay recognized with a shock the black-haired woman with the Dillard's bag, THE Dillard's bag, hanging from her arm, brazenly pushing her tray toward the cashier.
Helplessly they watched the scene unfold: After clearing the register, the woman settled at a table across from theirs, put the bag on an empty chair and began to eat.
After a few bites of baked whitefish and green beans, she casually lifted the bag into her lap to survey her treasure. Looking from sid e to side, but not far enough to notice her rapt audience three tables over, she
pulled out the tissue paper and peered into the bag. Her eyes widened, and she began to make a sort of gasping noise.
The noise grew. The bag slid from her lap as she sank to the floor, wheezing and clutching her upper chest.
The beverage cart attendant quickly recognized a customer in trouble and sent the busboy to call
911, while she administered the Heimlich maneuver.
A crowd quickly gathered that did not include Ellen and Kay, who remained riveted to their chairs for seven whole minutes until the ambulance arrived.
In a matter of minutes the curly-haired woman emerged from the crowd, still gasping, strapped securely on a gurney. Two well-trained EMS volunteers steered her to the waiting ambulance, while a third scooped up her belongings.
The last they saw of the distressed cat-burglar, she disappeared behind the ambulance doors, the Dillard's bag perched on her stomach.
My mom always taught me if it doesn't belong to you don't touch it, guess she didn't have a wise
mom like I do. Serves her right, God does take care of those who do bad things!
ARE YOU LAUGHING????
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Hopes and waiting
INFANT JOY
~ Wm. Blake
'I have no name;
I am but two days old.'
What shall I call thee?
'I happy am,
Joy is my name.'
Sweet joy befall thee!
Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while;
Sweet joy befall thee!
I will have to wait for that joy. Test results say not yet.
On the one hand, I'm a bit disappointed. Partly because I was hoping to be pregnant. Partly because I was hoping for a simple explination for the odd behaviors of my anatomy.
On the other hand, I'm some what relieved. Financially, things are not easy right now for my beloved Husband. Summer's coming up and I need to find a summer job. Pickings are somewhat slim right now, but we do what we can. I just hope that I won't have to go and suffer in a factory job. I absolutely detested doing that. It was one of the most painfully boring jobs I ever had.
In it all, I have but two fears.
1. We will not beable to adequately provide for our children when they are born.
2. Our children may have some of the severe genetic problems that are present in our family.
I generally do my best not to think about the things that scare me. Most days, it doesn't go through my mind more then once or twice. Other days, like today, I can't hardly stop thinking about it unless something distracts me. Like a rough day at work. :p
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Quizzez .... because my mind has little room for anything else now..
| The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic |
Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few. But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky. Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski |
| Your Theme Song is Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd |
"There is no pain, you are receding. A distant ship�s smoke on the horizon. You are only coming through in waves." You haven't been feeling a lot lately, and you think that's a good thing. The comfortable part is nice... but you should really work on numb. |
| Your Observation Skills Get A C |
You tend to notice the big things in life... But the details aren't exactly your forte |
| You Are 60% Weird |
You're so weird, you think you're *totally* normal. Right? But you wig out even the biggest of circus freaks! |
| You Are a Learning Cook |
You've got the makings of an excellent cook, and the desire to be one. But right now, you're just lacking the experience. You couldn't be a top chef yet, but you could be an apprentice. |
| You Are Scooter |
Brainy and knowledgable, you are the perfect sidekick. You're always willing to lend a helping hand. In any big event or party, you're the one who keeps things going. "15 seconds to showtime!" |
| Your Ideal Pet is a Cat |
You're both aloof, introverted, and moody. And your friends secretly wish that you were declawed! |
| You Are a Prophet Soul |
You are a gentle soul, with good intentions toward everyone. Selfless and kind, you have great faith in people. Sometimes this faith can lead to disappoinment in the long run. No matter what, you deal with everything in a calm and balanced way. You are a good interpreter, very sensitive, intuitive, caring, and gentle. Concerned about the world, you are good at predicting people's feelings. A seeker of wisdom, you are a life long learner looking for purpose and meaning. You are a great thinker and communicator, but not necessarily a doer. Souls you are most compatible with: Bright Star Soul and Dreaming Soul |
| Your Deadly Sins |
| Wrath: 80% |
| Gluttony: 60% |
| Lust: 60% |
| Envy: 40% |
| Greed: 40% |
| Sloth: 40% |
| Pride: 20% |
| Chance You'll Go to Hell: 49% |
| You will die, after conquering the world as an evil dictator. |
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Reprise: Like minds.
Apologies stated, let's see if I can correct my imperfect statements earlier.
Me re-reading my ramblings. ---> S: . o O (Boy, this was poorly written. Sr. Margaret Ellen would've had my hide if turned this in for homework.)
Ok, I have a few points that I was trying to state and perhaps if I phrase them as short and sweet as I can, it will convey them better then when I ramble on the soapbox.
1. Learning disabilities and autisim are two different things. I can not argue with this point of fact. Autisim, however, is viewed as a learning disability by the New York State educational system (or at least that's how my employers have explained it to me).
2. A very high percentage of people with learning disabilities are frighteningly intelligent. Many of the geniuses of the world have some type of learning disability. While I'm not a neuro-physiologist, I'm inclined to suspect that they are intertwined and probably a situation where you can't have the brilliance with out the brain being wired differently then everyone else. This will lead to differences in learning modes.
3. All people with learning disabilities deserve to be adequately educated. They should have every opportunity to reach their fullest educational potential as a student.
4. The learning needs of all students must be met in a manner that encourages them to continue learning and growing intellectually. I belive that this is key to the success of a person, any person. Nothing is more vital to you then your ability to think.
5. Learning disabled students need their learning needs met in a fashion that is supportive to the way they learn. Thus, visual learners need information presented in a fashion that allows them to learn visually. Students with A.D.D. need their environment such that will allow them to focus on their lessons and remain fully engaged in the task of learning their lessons.
6. Mainstreaming learning disabled students enmass into the current educational system will create an environment that is not helpful most of the students. Teachers that do not have the skills or the flexibility to accomodate a wide range of learning styles in their teaching methods will be rather obviously ineffective in coping with the range of needs presented to them.
Now, I feel that this is not a problem due strictly to mainstreaming LD students. I did not intend to present the idea that LD students would slow down classes at large. I actually think that LD students can benefit a class, but not in the present educational system that we have now. Our current educational system is focused heavily on rote learning of facts and the ability to regurgitate said facts onto a standardized test.
The flaw in our current educational system is that it fails to give all students the aid they need. Either you are brilliant and they press you into the more challenging classes (usually taught in the same format as the ones with less sophisticated material) or you have "special needs" and are shipped off to the Resource room. Once in the "special education" system, you may get lucky and have a teacher that works well with you. Usually, you get teachers that are:
1. harried by the wide range of material they need to handle;
2. struggling to keep up with the myriad of students that are about them;
3. attempting to mitigate the chaos of interacting with peers that are ignorant about learning disabilities;
And 4. are forced to keep up with the administrative hell of
the various forms, paperwork, and simmilar materials that need to be attended to for each child.
The teachers that are being pulled in these different directions may get a little bit of time with their students to focus individually on their needs, but not as much as the student needs or the teacher would like to give. It is a problem in the special education portion of the nation's educational system, but it typifies the problem that is epidemic through out the entire system.
Teachers that are being called on to do things outside of their scope are unable to do their job: teach. On any given day, I see the teachers I work with spending at least a third of their day on just the pain of keeping up with the latest administrative nightmare that the district/the state dropped on them. I think I have lost track of how much time my co-workers spend getting ready for the newest state requirements for their area. Sometimes it seems like the NYS educational department changes their standards for teachers on a weekly basis. This creates the problem of arranging for what ever training that needs to be done to keep up with the state requirements on underwater basket weaving materials, for example, and takes the teacher away from teaching the students how to just do simple weaving.
And then you have the insanity of expecting that if you have an educational degree that you can teach any subject. If you have a great deal of difficulty in Mathematics and you chose to get your teaching certification in English in recognition of your limitations, shouldn't it stand to reason that you won't necessarially do well teaching Math? Then why do schools expect for the proverbial English teacher to be teaching Math? And this is a daily expectation for the teachers that work in special education departments.
The population of teachers at large are not trained on how to work with students that have learning disabilities. It's a sad thing because I'm certian that the population of "borderline" learning disabled students is alot higher then the education system officials are willing to admit. If you applied many of the techniques used to help learning disabled students, which generally boil down to working within the learning style of the student in question, I'm certian we'd see an incredible flourishing of successes. Instead, teachers are given a large stack of information that will be on a state test at the end of the year and are expected to push the students through it. No consideration given to if these students master the subject or not.
That callous lack of concern for the mastery of subject matter is part of the cancer in the educational system. That is why students with learning disabilities are given aides that are unprepaired to work with them, often only having a cursory glance at an IEP before they are sent out to work with the students. That enormous level of disregard for the student's needs is what prevents the educational system from focusing on taking time to make sure that the students truly understand the concepts, rather then parrot the answers and forget them a month later.
I think that the whole thing could be summed up by this:
The educational system is severely broken. It disregards the needs of the students in all areas (ranging from the most "gifted" to the most severely learning disabled) in favor of turning out a set of numbers they can uphold as progress in the form of test scores. The needs disregarded are: the development of the skill set required for learning, the mastery of subjects taught, and the the development of rational thought. If children were taught in a fashion that meshed well with their learning style and encouraged them to explore the inter-disicplinarian elements of the subject matter, I believe that they would be highly successful. If subjects were taught for mastery rather then accomplishing the minimum required to pass a test, the students would be able to build off their skills and succeed. If students were taught how to think critically and rationally in a given situation, they would be able to confidently handle almost any situation presented to them.
If you've made it this far through my ... tract, thank you for being so patient with me. Please accept my humble apologies for the confusion I created with my earlier post, for any offense I may have committed, and the proliferation of spelling errors.
My next goal is to stop typing when I only have 3 hours of sleep. :) Thank you, again, for reading and keeping me honest. :) Constructive criticism is the writer's best friend. As per American Literature's 1st day with Sr. Margaret Ellen @ CND & the entire English department.
PS: I'm sorry for all the grammar mistakes. :)
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Quz thingy filched from hubby. :)
1. I’ll respond with something random I like about you.
2. I’ll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3. I’ll name something we should do together.
4. I’ll say something that only makes sense to you and me (or just me).
5. I’ll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I’ll leave you a quote that is somehow appropriate to you.
7. I’ll ask you something that I’ve always wondered about you.
And as I promised my husband... here's my replies to him.
1. The fact that you'll attempt to laugh at my jokes
2. Metallica's nothing else matters.
3. Take over the world. :)
4. Doctor Chicken :)
5. I'll go for clearest memory. :) You walked up behind me as I was doing some classwork in Typing class in Mr. Bellaire's rm and whispered something in my ear. I completely lost track of what I was doing and didn't hear what you said. But ... I couldn't help but close my eyes and shiver because of how wonderful your voice sounded.
6. What the hell?
7. How do you manage to put up with me?
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Blogging... or should I journal?
At the same time, it is difficult for me to preserve the memories I express here for when I'm a doddering 85 years old and suffering from Alzheimers. I won't always have the ability to pop onto a computer and look this up. So, I will probably take some time over the next few days to write in my journal.
It may lead to more things posted on the blog. I'm not sure yet. One thing I can say, I've done more "creative writing" since I've started blogging then I did before. It's allowed me to write in more then one area at the same time. Now, if I can only manage to get my math skills honed and start work on my pysics theory I'll be happy. My brain is getting more work now, so I'm not *quite* as crazy.
well... maeby. ;)
A poem I adore.
Here's one that I absolutely adore and I simply must post!
Title: To The Virgins
GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying :
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer ;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may go marry :
For having lost but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Quizzes because i have no motivation to write... :p
| You Are Midnight |
You are more than a little eccentric, and you're apt to keep very unusual habits. Whether you're a nightowl, living in a commune, or taking a vow of silence - you like to experiment with your lifestyle. Expressing your individuality is important to you, and you often lie awake in bed thinking about the world and your place in it. You enjoy staying home, but that doesn't mean you're a hermit. You also appreciate quality time with family and close friends. |
Find your Celestial Choir
School Smart You're more of a 'school smarts' kind of person. You are best with the theoretical things, and your intelligence is both natural and learned - a blend of personal, experiential knowledge and book learnin'. 40% theoretical intelligence 20% natural intelligence | ||||
Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com |
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Update on the Job Front...
I still love the job. Though I'm getting more then a little irritated with these people I work with. I know that horse-sense isn't that uncommon!
That said... I'll continue on too kill m'dizzy brain with dopey games on yahoo ... or take a nap.
I haven't decided yet.
PS: To the gals that I've become high priestess too... yes, I am going to be blunt in here. I also hope that you see that I said I care about y'all! :) You want a peek into my brain, look here. otherwise, don't look. :)
