I am an erratic gardener
Pruning for efficiency
Always planning for maximization.
But to what ends was never programed
So an infinite loop is created
Always prioritizing a future that was never determined
Saving for a rainy day that had yet to be acknowledged.
*This is the entire contents of the note
Alternatively titled: tattoo #7
i wore white converse to my high school graduation. this was against the dress code, which banned sneakers. But my high tops were clean and white, they matched the school mandated cap and gown, and i liked them.
normally, I would not be allowed to walk at graduation unless I changed my scandalous footwear. But I was giving a speech and it would have caused more disruption to prevent me from participating, and so I wore my converse.
a full body photograph of me, from my graduation cap to my sneakers made the front page of the local newspaper. school administrators were upset that I had tarnished their image. I was happy that this image actually showed an authentic version of me.
I kept and wore these same shoes again for my college graduation. They now sit on a shelf, near my diplomas, much less white and with many more rips than they did for their debut. But I will wear them again when I graduate with my masters, and any other degrees that may come after that.
and so as i wrap up year 1 of teaching, and it feels simultaneously like I am ending my own freshman and senior year of high school. I am in this place of transition out while still settling in. I am feeling rebellious, excited, frustrated, tired, and proud.
And when, this past weekend, I saw a local tattoo artist post a set of flash tattoos (drawings that they will tattoo all in one day, on a first come first serve basis), my rebellious impulsiveness took over. I submitted my interest in about 8 of the designs, and the next day found out that I would be getting this one.
this high top converse sneaker. the perfect way to wrap up a year of academic and personal accomplishment. A symbol of being here, despite the rules, and staying here to change the rules.
18 children
And one teacher
were killed today
by an 18 year old school shooter.
(And maybe more will not make it)
The second major incident of gun violence to make it to my news radar this month.
And there were over 200 that never made it to me.
We have drills
We have trainings
We have debriefs
But we will never have peace of mind
And in hearing about this tragedy,
This unthinkable catastrophic normality,
I think first about where in my classroom would we go.
Where are the locks and the curtains and the heavy objects to use to barricade the door.
I think about where are the books for throwing in self defense
And where are the sharp objects I could use to break the window.
And then I think about how the news would reach my person.
And my people
And I think about how i would recover if this happened here
how this is community would recover
And I think about how would the situation change depending which class i was with,
and their dynamics, and their needs,
And how I would best protect them,
And how could we get through this together,
And
I think of of each and every one of them.
The 58 on my class rosters.
And the many more who are not.
I think of their faces
(Or half visible faces)
And I think of the goodness I see in them all.
And I can’t think of the world without them.
And
I try to think of anything else
anything besides the idea, the possibility, of this happening.
19 children were killed.
And 2 adults.
27th school shooting
212th mass shooting
1984 people killed by guns
In the United States of America
in 2022
so far.
And I have to say so far
Because there will be more.
For these irreplaceable,
individual, incredible human beings
who have taught me how to be a teacher,
i want more for them.
more than this never-ending barrage of preventable and catastrophic violence.
I want more accountability and action and shelter and healing and care for them.
and
i want more for me.
Sources: https://www.gunviolencearchive.org/, https://www.npr.org/2022/05/24/1101050970/2022-school-shootings-so-far
it is something new to show All of myself
past and present.
to be this
(all of this),
and somehow,
to not apologize.
i am terrified
to be loud
to be seen
to be thought about
to be memorable
to be recognizable
(no wonder i often feel invisible)
how fortunate then (i suppose)
that putting up walls and guards and protections and masks
is so exhausting.
When im running on empty,
the walls collapse
and i am able to to experience the open expanse
of just being.
Today, the Alabama House of Representatives voted to make it illegal for doctors to proscribe gender-affirming medical care for transgender youth (18 and under).
I am grateful for what a few representatives said in the battle that ended in a vote of 66-28 in favor of this bill.
Rep. England: “You’re saying this is about children. It’s not. What it is about is scoring political points and using those children as collateral damage”
Rep. Rafferty: “Its totally undermining family rights, health rights and access to health care.”
I was pretty numb while I read this headline at first. A protective numbness.
I was numb until I reached this quote in the article from Rep. Wes Allen: “Their brains are not developed to make the decisions long term about what these medications and surgeries do to their body,”
When I read that, I was angry. I was frustrated by the utter stupidity of it all. I wanted to storm down to that house and explain to this man that going through puberty ~naturally~ or whatever Is A Choice, and a choice with lasting, lifelong repercussions. I want to ask why he thinks the state should be able to make this choice for children: A choice that he states will have lasting effects on their bodies.
I have been fighting my body for years, and if I had been given the option at the beginning to not have to go through that, hell yes I would have picked that.
I’m not a better person for having had two puberties. I’m just sadder.
All I want is to be able to protect those kids in Alabama. I want to protect my trans students from the ricocheting pain I am feeling after this bill. And after all the rest.
I feel quite small today.
https://www.npr.org/2022/04/07/1091510026/alabama-gender-affirming-care-trans-transgender
Looking forward to:
Subtitle: the story of how everything in my life is a metaphor for something else in my life
(Alternatively titled: A teaching philospohy)
In trying to understand who I am as a teacher
I found a misconception I had been holding on to:
I thought the pull to teaching was math.
(And I do love math
I am grateful to have it as a partner in this endeavor
I love its definitiveness and ambiguity
Give me good pattern any day of the week and I’ll be happy
Or an algorithm
a visualization
a comparison
a mapping
a graph
a prediction
a puzzle
Math is a language where you can express
both more
and less
than you can with words.
Math carries a precision that syllables and sentences never can
Yet fails to articulate the finest points of humanness)
But to say I am tied to teaching because I love math
is a knot that will unravel under tension.
I would not have ended up here if I had not accompanied a bouquet of trans folks
On legs of their expeditions:
Through crushing expectations
Through meeting themselves
Through glimmers of expansive freedom
Through letting the world in to meet them.
I teach in order to hold a place for these gender explorers and defiers
For these norm breakers
For these students looking for someone to see them, to know them.
I stumbled into teaching with my crochet hook and calculator
with enormous and hazy and overwhelming dreams
To chip away at these walls against which my back is pressed
To exist where they said we couldn’t
To make space
for us.
Critical Points (of a Multivariable Function) 