A Grounding in Speculative Fiction

I'm back to watching a lot of sci-fi, probably my favorite genre. When Cathy an I watch tv together, we mostly watch romance movies, coming of age movies, or rom-com (romantic comedy), and period pieces like "The Crown". But because of my difficulty in hearing and not wanting to keep reading closed caption, I watch streaming movies and tv at my laptop in my bedroom with my earbuds plugged in. Of late, I've been watching sci-fi, mostly dystopian and post apocolyptic stories.

My Sister

My sister. I love her and I am much saddened by her deterioration. I don't know how to help her, perhaps I need to trust that I don't know what's best for her. I can only ask her.  "What's best for you?" I can ask her. And when she tells me, help if I can.

I can't take away her hurt and she cannot hide. It comes out of her in ways that frighten me. I feel that I have failed her. I don't have control or power over her, not much influence at all. I don't even know whether I speak the same language as her.

Too much death. Personal and worldwide.  It weighs heavy on me. In the last 2 years I lost my remaining uncles, a cousin, a dear friend's husband, another college friend, my mother a little more than a year ago, and now my nephew.  I fear that my sister will succeed soon in poisoning her remaining organs with alcohol, until she finishes the process she began a couple decades ago.  Death is impartial.

There have been numerous mass killings in the U. S. and around the world by deranged people, some self-proclaimed terrorists, and we continue to fight wars where we don't belong. Innocent people, often referred to as collateral damage, die from these wars.

My spirit is sad.

Mountain Pose

June 26, 2014.  The ride from the east entrance of Rocky Mountain National Park through the park via Trail Ridge Road to the altitude of 12,005 feet is one of the most magnificent drives I've ever experienced. Most of the times that I've gone to the mountain top, I've driven by myself. This time I shared the experience with Cathy, and her children, Jamisen and Audrey. The three of them had never been to the mountains, so this time I was both humble participant and guide. For nearly a year I've been practicing yoga. It seemed appropriate to do a version of the mountain pose across from the visitor center at the top of the mountain. The drive up was magnificent, including a series of cascades running down the mountainside.

A couple of major shifts in attitude:
When asked how I'm doing, I can now say, "I'm happy!"
And I am mindful of gratitude, feeling it and speaking it.

The concept of seeing a glass as half full may require some additional effort that includes adding to it until I have no doubt that it's half full.

Mom's 90th Birthday Party

On Sunday, October 16, I had a 90th Birthday Party for my mother. Of the 94 people I invited, 90 came and enjoyed a brunch with family and friends at Maggiano's. Sitting at the head table, every remaining aunt and uncle honored my mom with their presence. We had out-of-towners, family members, from Denmark, California, Oregon, Louisiana, Michigan, Arizona, Florida, and Arkansas, who came to this event to honor Jeanette, or Aunt Jay, as so many call her. Several of her oldest and dearest friends from elementary school also joined us. A friend of mine from elementary school, who kind of grew up in our home, was there to toast his second mom. I count myself very blessed to still have my mother cracking jokes for everyone's amusement, and able to request that I call her when I arrive at a destination, so she won't worry, even though I'm 62.

In the photo, Mom is telling everyone that she always wanted to attend her own funeral and hear what people had to say about her. With all of the tributes from the guests, she joked that this party fulfilled her dreams.

I'm in Sedona, looking for energy vortexes. I don't really know what I would do if I actually found a spot in these red rocks where I could absorb energy. What would this mean? What would I be able to do with it? The search itself reminds me of those people you see on beaches or in fields with those metal sensing devices, looking for treasures. This is Bell Rock. I hiked to this monolith, walked around it, touched it, and sat beneath it. Three birds alighted upon a tree as I sat on a red rock and just before I left three birds returned.

Don't know what to do when I run out of things to do. Immerse myself in sleep. Burrow under the protective warmth of unsciousness, float down the river of dreams. There's something uncomfortable about reality, but what choice do I have? Sometimes I whisper to myself to get my attention. It doesn't always work.

A woman I once knew would share little confessions with me. Secrets of her soul or just bon-bons her heart knew I couldn't resist. I don't know for sure. I was eager enough to taste each confidence, so she would tease me with more.

Does any of this make any difference to you?

I discovered Blogger in the Spring of 2001 and used it to record my thoughts and feelings about Getting Divorced. I started writing this blog two years later on June 1, 2003, which was seven years ago today. So I think it is important to say something about online journaling, my reasons for jumping onto the online journaling bandwagon, for encouraging others such as colleagues and students, and offer a few words about what it means to me today.

When I started blogging, Blogger had not been purchased by Google; it was still in its infancy, and it did not have all the bells and whistles that it has now. But it was an accessible, easy to use site for recording thoughts and feelings, telling my story, or just publishing myself. In the intervening years, I've seen blogging grow into a viable journalistic form that provides information and enjoyment internationally, a news and information vehicle that can be corporate and independent, offering a voice to well informed pundits and to everyone who has something to say, significant or not.

At one point when it was growing and suddenly everyone and his grandmother was blogging, I thought, "If so many people are talking, who's listening?" But apparently, it was on its way to becoming mainstream. It became chic for tech leaders, professional journalists, politicians, teachers, and others to provide information to others, and in some cases use it to augment their jobs. And it remained free.

I added entries to my Blogger blog intermittently, and often now have videos of my favorite musicians that I upload from YouTube, or videos that I've taken, as much as my written "ramblings". As the technology became available, adding visual images seemed much easier than being reflective or informative everyday. Nonetheless, as I look through my posts, I see it as an electronic scrapbook of the past 7 years, as much as my attempt to reflect my thoughts and feelings. I say the following for my own edification, as anyone else's, "Write on!"

What can be more enjoyable than hanging out with friends you have known for forty years. In my case, I took a road trip with Becky and Pat to visit Sal in Louisville. Besides enjoying Sal's very rustic environs, where we did some bird watching and relaxing and eating and drinking, we spent Saturday in Downtown Louisville at Abbey Road on the River, a Beatlefest that was a trip down memory lane. Wearing our tie-dye t-shirts, we were ready to sing and dance ourselves to happiness. There might have been other things to help us along, but I'm not talking....

It might be because I support progressive left wing causes like protecting our environment, my belief in justice and health care for all, or belief in the value of peace that has provoked Glenn Beck to attack me personally.

We're almost at the end of the first decade of this new millennium. In looking back at where I was 10 years ago, even though my marriage was a terminal failure, the X and I spent and unplanned and expensive New Year's Eve on The Ugly Duckling, a dinner cruise ship docked at Navy Pier. After dinner, we stood on the deck, the wind chill of our marriage equal to the icy night air, and although the splendid display of fireworks over the lakefront was spectacular, sharing it within the context of a dead marriage, made it empty. Nine months later, I finally found the courage to leave her, only looking back to make sure she was no longer in sight.

Y2K, the apocalyptical warning about all of the worlds computers crashing because they were not prepared for the year 2000, was much ado about nothing. It did not happen.

During much of this decade, I've worked very hard to change myself, my way of thinking and behavior, starting with my relationships with myself and my higher power, and then fanning outward with my relationships to others -- family, friends, colleagues, and associates, old and new. I've grown older, finding that my knees rebel against the added weight I've gained from my depression weight loss at the end of the marriage to the present. Sure the holiday season may have added a few pounds, but I'm still easily 20lbs overweight. My face has aged gracefully, but my body struggles with gravity.

During this decade, professionally I've gone from being English Department Chair to Technology Coordinator to Freshman English Teacher to Displaced Teacher to Retired. Forces have worked with and against me, or more accurately I've learned how to work with these forces, and presently I'm adjusting to retirement from the Chicago Public Schools.

I have not remarried, but I have reestablished, rekindled, and renewed old relationships, and have forged new ones, redefining my understanding of intimacy. I feel richer in so many ways as I approach 2010, and I am grateful for my recovery journey, for it truly has helped me change.

During my recent road trip at the beginning of August 2009 to cousin Rickie's house in Lexington, Virginia, with my mom, I interviewed my mom and Uncle Ed, together and separately.

In the following interview, Uncle Ed talks about the house he built in Miami and raising his family there.



In this video, my mother talks about growing up in the Englewood neighborhood in the 20's and 30's.



One evening, sitting on Rickie and Peter's porch with Uncle Eddie, my mom, and Rickie:

It has been 3 months since my last post to this blog, although in the beginning of the school year I maintained a blog about dealing with the demeaning experience of being a displaced tenured teacher working as a substitute teacher. I've also written several editorials about the Chicago Board of Education and the CEO Arne Duncan's decision to dismiss the entire staff of Harper (except for the newly placed incompetent administration), which in effect blamed the systemic Central Office neglect of Harper, its inner city impoverishment (not the least of which has been academic poverty), and its subsequent failure to progress (acceptable yearly progress based on NCLB) on the teachers. Every time I read an editorial praising the work Arne Duncan did as Chicago Public Schools' CEO, I had to respond with what I believe is the truth about his success.

In an Edutopia article, Reform Starts Now: Obama Pics Arne Duncan, I commented:

"I am not encouraged by Obama's choice for Secretary of Education. Based on my experiences under Arne Duncan's leadership, I had my school, which was on probation, but which had made significant improvements, backslide to become the worst high school in the city under 3 successive principals placed in the school by Mr. Duncan. The creation of magnet schools and academies had drawn the most academically capable and ambitious students out of our feeder elementary schools, leaving us the most challenged and at-risk students, and an enrollment of 30-35% special needs students.

Instead of looking at our students and what our school needed, Mr. Duncan used a "one size fits all" policy, which closed our vocational education program and pushed a college prep. curriculum. At the same time, social promotion became the unofficial practice again, and we started to receive students who were several years below their grade level, and if we failed students, were asked to justify it with the remediation plans we implemented for each an every student who failed. When we continued to show no improvement in the standardized tests on this uneven playing field, Mr. Duncan fired the entire staff, hiring almost an entirely new staff, calling the school a "turn-around" school.

As a teacher very much affected by this policy, I admit I am biased, but I believe such a drastic process broadcasts a negative message about the very dedicated teachers who work in extremely challenging schools. It punished all of us who were dedicated to the inner-city community where we had taught for years, and in many ways successful, because it assessed us on the basis of standardized tests and school attendance.

But let me end this on a positive note: if Mr. Duncan has learned any lesson from his "one size fits all" educational policy, it should be that with the assistance of technology, every student can have an individualized educational plan, because everyone has special needs. I would suggest that Mr. Duncan spend some time with the ed-tech visionaries who frequent this and other similar blog, wiki, and ning educational networks. I would send Arne back to school for some professional development. Unfortunately, I'm afraid he may believe the spin about all of the great successes he has had, that has been shoved down our national throats."

And in an Edutopia poll question: Do you think education will be better off in four years? I responded:

"My experiences teaching for the Chicago Public Schools for the last 32 years leaves me feeling somewhat pessimistic about the future of the schools. In this city, politics and patronage usually supplants educational experience and knowledge. Although Arne Duncan is personable and has a clean record, under his tenure as CEO of the Chicago Public Schools, we have experienced more school closings and replacement of entire staff than actual reform or addressing individual school needs. It has been a policy of one size fits all, but within the context of an uneven playing field created by Central Office policies and the inequities from neighborhood socio-economics. In order to keep white and middle class families from fleeing to suburban and private schools, Chicago has created magnet schools and academies that have selective enrollment, leaving neighborhood schools with less motivated students that have less academic skills and that cannot filter out low achieving students. Yet every school is assessed by the same standardized tests. Most of the "failing" schools continue to fail, so the policy now is to close the schools and fire all the teachers. In Chicago, we hear that 50% of the public schools will be privatized by 2015. If this is the direction our new Secretary of Education plans for the schools nationally, I'm afraid it's the death knell for the public schools. I don't believe this is the type of reform that will create better schools and higher achieving students."

A Time Magazine editorial called Arne Duncan an "Apostle of Reform", which I responded to in my Classroom2.0 Ning site blog. I have been writing about my subjective observations as it relates to school reform, because it impacted on me and forced me to retire from CPS before I had planned to. I have engaged in listserv dialogue, specifically at wwwedu, a Yahoo educational group, responding to Duncan's desire to flip NCLB and to scale up, and have tried to maintain my objectivity.

It is the first week of summer vacation, and other than a few years where I taught English in summer school or assisted with technology more recently at Harper's Bridges Program, I look forward to reading and traveling and preparing for next school year. Except now I am retired from the Chicago Public Schools and will be exploring my options in other school districts as a teacher and/or consultant. The adventure continues....

Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are from Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix.

The professor told his class one day, "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send
it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely no talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his students, Rebecca and Gary.

THE STORY
(1st paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(2nd paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic
communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particlebean flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and SpaceTravel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she wondered wistfully.

(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anudrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anudrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)
Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F**KING TEA???! Oh no, WHAT AM I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca)
A**hole

(Gary)
Bitch

(Rebecca)
F**K YOU, YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Gary)
Go drink some tea, whore.


(TEACHER)
A+ . . . I really liked this one.

Disclaimer: The Gary in this exchange was not me.

 

My dear cat, Chloe, has brought me immeasurable comfort. I got her from a student of mine, who used to help me with technology in the school. So I'd drop him off at home, even though he lived within walking distance. It was in June 2006. As I pulled up to his house, one of his sisters came up to the car with this little white ball of fur about the size of my hand, their last kitten of a recent litter. I asked if I could hold her, so she passed her to me. She nestled upon my chest inches from and a certain future connection to my heart.

The sister said, "Do you want her?" and a voice inside of me, the one that didn't know I hadn't planned to have any more pets and the responsibility attached to one, said, "Sure I'll take her."

I don't have to tell anyone who has a pet what a joy she has been. We talk to each other and play. And, of course, she keeps me warm at night.

My Reeboks are very comfortable, too!

It is so easy to give your all to something, like this blog for instance, and then move on to something else, transferring the passion to the next object or project or design. I have been working on this blog since 2003, sharing impressions and thoughts, adding some media now and then, but there has been no entry or post for four months. What's up with that? I don't know.

My years generally run from one school year to the next. They have since I was a child, and so as a teacher I continue to think in terms of what I do from one school year to the next. My energies are focused primarily on my career, even when I was married. But lately, I've been distracted and seem to "fritter away" my time. I've been out of sync, and have been since September 2007 when I was removed from my Tech Coordinator position by a new principal, who thought she did not need a TechCo. She placed me back in the classroom, where I spent most of the school year "dealing" with bored, disaffected freshmen, trying to teach 9th grade English in the lowest performing high school in Chicago.

I spent 75% of my teaching time dealing with discipline problems, constant disruptions of instruction, and intrusions from students walking into my room from the hallway, which did not have enough security to monitor and contain the ongoing problems. And there in that capacity, I languished until the violence of the drastic unwelcomed and undiscussed change in my career, paired with dealing with the most difficult students in the school, pushed my blood pressure to levels that precipitated my taking a medical leave of absence for the last eight weeks of the semester. As the school year progressed, it was clear that this new administration was in way over their heads, and instead of taking the lead from and consulting with their veteran teachers, they chose to ignore or harass us.

I came back for the second semester to the news that our CEO and the Board of Education decided to Reconstitute the school, which meant that the entire staff would be replaced after the end of the second semester. That really pushed morale at the school to an all-time low and helped create more discipline problems for all of us. Students would tell us blatantly that they didn't have to listen to us, because we were fired. Thank you Chicago Board of Education: you didn't support us and when standardized test scores continued to stagnate, instead of addressing the problems that you created by your policies, you blame the staff!

During last school year, I watched as every technology initiative I helped develop and bring to the school, and the network itself, crumble, the new principal bent on disassembling anything that she had not designed. Once again, reinventing the wheel and washing the baby down with the bath water seemed to be the prevailing policy that precluded all management decisions at the school.

Finally, I stopped fighting the insanity (I perceived most of these policies and subsequent actions, including the Reconstitution of the school, as insanity, and certainly something I had no control over) and finished the school year, focusing as much as I could on teaching the best that I could. But, undoubtedly, this had been The School Year from Hell.

I went out of town on three occasions since my last entry. My first trip was to New Orleans for a Shorts Reunion, for a long weekend before school let out. The Shorts are the group of guys from college, most of whom lived on the second floor at one time or other during the late 60's at Farwell Hall at Northern Illinois University in DeKalb. Our last reunion marked the 50th birthday for most of us, so this coming ten years later marked the 60th birthday for most of the guys.

In July, I drove to Tennessee to visit my cousins Blair and Monica in their Smokey Mountain vacation home, and on the way back to Chicago, visited Sal in Louisville for the weekend. Sal is one of my college buds, who I roomed with the previous month in New Orleans.

In August, my oldest friend Don, who I've known for the past 56 years, met me in Denver. We rented a car and drove to Breckenridge for a three day break before returning to work. The highlight of that trip was our bike ride from Breckenridge to Frisco and back. The high altitude, beautiful scenery, and rigorous mountain bicycle path left me gasping, sometimes for air. This was a three day rendezvous, as Don lives in Oakland and I in Chicago. He had to return to his teaching job before the end of the week, and I had to return to my job of looking for a job, which I will continue to do until the end of next week. At that time, I will be substitute teaching four days a week with Wednesday as my designated job search day. Unless I find a job that synchronizes with the direction I have focused my career on, technology integration and professional development, I will retire at the end of this school year.

One thing I've done this past year to manage the external turmoil in my life and create more balance in my emotional environment has been to listen to New Age and Meditation music making it the backdrop to my home. One person in particular whose music brings me peace and harmony is Dean Evenson. I, also, continue to work necessary Steps of my CoDA Program.

Dean and Dudley Evenson

[via FoxyTunes / Dean Evenson]

I just happened upon Music Box, a Tokyoplastic Production. It's an animated jazz piece. Watch it and let me know how it strikes you?

The Operation

My colleague had this operation
To remove some stones
Said it wasn't too bad
Except for the in-flight movietones
Of his operation.

Giving Thanks

JEOPARDY ANSWER: Gone South for the Winter

JEOPARDY QUESTION: Where have you been?

In 1983, I saw Miles Davis at Orchestra Hall in Chicago. That place is usually reserved for classical music -- Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, which is why I made the special effort to see the master perform. The sound would have been pure in a garage or a speakeasy, but this venue offered Miles trumpet unadulterated by clinging ice in mixed drinks or the murmur of whispered conversation. And Miles, with his back to the audience most of the time, was just too cool. The following video reveals a very young Miles Davis and John Coltrane. But the focus is mostly on Coltrane.

Miles Davis & John Coltrane video on FoxyTunes Planet

Miles Davis and John Coltrane: listen / feel / be

[via FoxyTunes / Miles Davis & John Coltrane]

Dee Alexander

During this past summer 2007, I had the good fortune to see Dee Alexander on several occasions, the last in early September for her tribute to Dinah Washington and Nina Simone. These were sponsered by The Jazz Institute of Chicago, which I finally joined. The following video shows how talented this young lady is.

Of the soft things in life, the pink pads of catsfeet, a baby's bottom, the feathery crowns of dandelions, and the sweet succulent pillows of your lips --- all were made for kissing.

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band

What do you remember about the album, how it affected you, how you listened to it, why it was important to you, and so on? Did you wonder about the various persons featured on the cover and why they were included?
It was significant in the same way Kurt Vonnegut novels were. There was something profound about it, something meaningful to discover about it. It helped us glean an understanding of ourselves.

I just watched the last 24:38 of Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey


set to the soundtrack of Pink Floyd's Echoes. I had downloaded it from Google Video. It made me realize that we are the last generation with imagination. We wanted to expand our minds, which we did through innovative and expansive music, literature, visual arts, and psychotropic drugs. Even experimentation with mind altering drugs was more exploration than it was for the physical effect of getting high. We explored inner space, seeking transcendental experiences and altered states of reality. We were excited by the latest books by our contemporary authors and by those timeless classics. We enlarged our world by seeking knowledge, through learning and experimentation, and with self-expression and creativity. We have traveled in time and thru time to find ourselves running out of time.

If you are a teacher, and you want to create your own web site for your students, then this is the greatest tool since the xerox machine:

I do what I do
because
I must
Have meaningful connections
Touch the hearts of those
I am entrusted to teach.

I do what I do
because
I must
Let my children know
They are important to me
That they are special.

I do what I do
because
I must
Fulfill my mission
It is always personal
And more than just a job.

I do what I do
because
I must

because
I care

because I am a teacher.

This is too cool

Click to play | Make your own Smilebox

Inspired by Nicole Mitchell's Black Earth Orchestra: Tribute to Alice Coltrane

#1
For the disenfranchised, here's a song for you
Alice Coltrane's discordant jazz
Set against the backdrop of a city
That doesn't care whether you freeze
Your ass in winter or can afford
The rent for the two bedroom apartment
For you and your three children.

Here's a song where each musician
Counterpoints the others
Playing as if he or she
Had amphetamine cocktails or ADHD.


#2
You crawled inside the sax
And closed your eyes
Content to drift away
Like a little girl climbing
Onto her father's lap
Shielded from the world
And there you wrapped the wailing tones
Around you like a blanket of sound.