slow evening

I’m listening to an album I haven’t heard in a few years now… “Owen” by Owen (aka Mike Kinsella). Gosh, it’s beautiful - I’d forgotten. Sparse and lush acoustic songs.

Home on a Friday evening with nothing really to do - love it! What I love even more: six more teaching weeks. In two of my courses, I am thinking “what will I do to fill the time??”. In the last one, I’m panicking a bit as I think of the long list of things my students need to know before they write their external exam… hmm…

Drew is beside me working on an assignment. He has finished the last official day of class for his course - just a small mound of papers to tackle! Sometimes I really miss being on the other end of school. I was reflecting the other day that I think I “think” less as a teacher. Maybe I should put it this way: I think a lot, but my thoughts get narrowly funneled to things directly related to my classes, my school, preserving my health (!). I don’t take the time to reflect on the world around me, or sit and think about ideas, books. I also feel dry creatively. I don’t even try to capture things anymore, visually, in words… it’s such a massive effort on my poor taxed brain…!! haha…

And I would like to have the luxury of thinking about things that have no consequences for tomorrow.

telluride

I just noticed a particular URL in my recent-visits list on my web browser that I don’t remember visiting myself. It reminded me: my boyfriend checks this website almost every day for snow conditions, more frequently than his email. He is suffering from snowboard deprivation.

lunar

The other day I passed by one of those enterprising magazine stalls, wedged in the corner of one of the busiest intersections in Mong Kok, which is usually crammed with people, papers, and other profit-making things. It really struck me when I noticed that a full section of the stall had been devoted to stacks of red and gold lai see envelopes. I know that shouldn’t really be surprising, but this is my first time spending Chinese New Year in Hong Kong for 5 or 6 years. I guess I had never before noticed what a big deal it is. I was just reminded yet again of the big transformation that sweeps through everything, from corner shops to office blocks.

I think the biggest change is in the people though - particularly how inexplicably happy they are. The custodians and security guards at the school have been tickled pink for the past week about the upcoming CNY. In the flower market tonight, random people we passed were beaming. It’s like all the good-will and peace-to-all-men that I expected to sense at Christmas (but didn’t) has been transfused into this week. It’s bizarre to me, but I guess I feel the way a local Chinese ah-por would feel if she had been drop-kicked into a North American December.

Thinking back to the past few CNY’s, I have: had a dumpling party with the housemates ; spent it in bed with a ripping sore throat; made red-bean soup; put up a lantern on my door in my first-year rez; and one winter, even procured some sticky leen goh dessert to fry up. Past years have been marked with a phone call home and something (anything!) chinese-ish. This year is very, very different. It’s pretty much a big deal.

Anyway… 2 days till the marathon of food and smiles begins! And because I’m no good at conversing at length in Chinese, I hope the specials on TVB will be good…

Comment #358: grade 8 creative writing piece

“‘Jason’, there is some good creative writing here; on the other hand, the plot is rather similar to a recent movie out in theatres. Please try to stay realistic and take out the zombies.”

out cold

i took my first sickie today.

yesterday, while sitting on my high chair (i have no better way to describe the thing i sit on) teaching, i was almost afraid i would fall off because i could barely keep my brains about me. by late afternoon, as I was wrapping up my lesson planning, my brain was a pile of pink jello. somehow, i got home and by 6:30pm i was in bed. i slept till 6am, whereupon i still felt sick. so i made the call. i sent in my lessons. and i went back to bed.

this whole morning, in retrospect, felt like an adventure. so much to plan and keep in mind - “and is it really worth it to stay home?” Hmm… calling in sick has never had such large ramifications. let’s just say it’s not a simple matter of convincing someone to take your shift.

my hair is wet

oh, life is tiring.

this profession is a very interesting one. i sat down with a co-worker today - i’d describe her as enthusiastic, incredibly creative, joyful, funny, positive…. she was asking me what’s the hardest thing about first year teaching for me, so in return, i asked her, “what was your favourite thing about your first year?”

she said, “when it was over.”

and then she looked sheepish. we laughed pretty hard. that sums up how i often feel at times. and even though it’s a dismal thing to say, it was encouraging to know that this (what shall we call it)…  insanity… this all-consuming tunnel of a job has a light at the end of it. Tangibly, that light has a name, and it’s called “christmas”.

the hardest thing about first-year teaching for me is the balance. i have always been a busy person, and so “balancing” several jobs is a normal state-of-being. but this is the first time I have been completely consumed not by many tasks but by one massive undertaking: high school.

every day at school reduces my brain to jelly. i come home with the intention of working on stacks of marking, or planning ahead for the week. but all i can do is stare at my computer. i spend on average 11-12 hours at school a day. i spend another hour and a half in transit (per day). i eat meals.  i shower. i call my boyfriend. i sleep.

when is there time in the day to relax? watch movies? make dinner? see friends? go to events?

the work time i put in at school is usually just enough to get through the day and pull something together for the next one. i have stacks of marking that i never have the time or energy to do. i have unit plans i’m supposed to submit. i have novels, anthologies, plays i’m supposed to pre-read. courses to plan. but in the economy of teaching, i am a subsistence worker. i live day to day.

there are times i look at my life and get discouraged. i seem to have lost close friends, and i battle lack of sleep. whenever anything additional to class slips into my schedule, it is incredibly hard to cope with the extra duty.

but, of course, i love what i do. i enjoy being with my students so much. i love having opportunities to talk with some in depth, to pray with them, to listen, counsel, joke. i love seeing their creativity! i enjoy hearing them laugh in class.

i’m tired. it’s time for bed. my hair is almost dry. and i have marking to do.

My students, Part 1

“In my opinion, it’s as beautiful as the core of a gold bar carved into the shape of a hawk ripping a bird’s guts into pieces.”
- Grade 8 boy, writing about a special childhood memento.

“A dmento from my childhood is…”
- Grade 8 boy, also writing about a special childhood memento.

“How would you describe the emotions this man is going through?”
“Wistful!”
“Sad!”
“Emo!”
- Grade 11 student, during a class discussion about nostalgia

Me: “Where’s your Bible?”
Student: “It’s not here.”
Me: “Well, where is it? You need it today”
Student: “It’s written in my heart.”
- Grade 10 Student, during school chapel

a ruined capitalist

Whenever I log into WordPress (which is seldom these days), it asks me “Already hip”? It’s slightly obnoxious and mostly amusing. I like that. I always enter my login information thinking, “Yes, please. I’m hip.”

The walk from the minibus stop to my house is pleasant. Very pleasant. Flowers and landscaping line every building, and the apartments cast a shadow over the path during the hottest part of the day. I have lived here on and off for seven years, so I know it well.

Beyond the cloister of residential apartments on a hill, this area houses mainly industrial companies - factories from the 60’s, transport docks, and a growing number of modern trading companies. A Starbucks recently opened in this old industrial core (which makes me think yet again that Starbucks is truly everywhere ).

This afternoon, on my way home, I treated myself to a frappucino and happily sucked on it during the short minibus ride. I arrived at my stop, stepped off the minibus, and almost stopped in my tracks.

It was such a strange sensation to be tasting Starbucks in my apartment complex. After all, a frappucino: synonymous with cheap splurges in Kingston, coffee dates in Central, sweet pick-me-ups in Toronto, lazy afternoons shopping… All things outside the sphere of “home”. I was almost shocked to be tasting these familiar, sugary, icy granules a few steps from my door.

It reminded me of how we try to separate the different areas of our life and how these inevitably converge in this globalized world. I often grow dull to the idea of globalization, forgetting its significance because it fits so neatly into my life - especially as a reasonably-traveled, cross-cultured twentysomething. Today, as the simple idea of mass-produced quasi-luxury coffee encroached upon my little home, I realized again how wide and how deep the global net is cast.

Also, I was forced to remember how I swore off Starbucks for a year in silent protest against commercialization and unfair coffee prices… I guiltily give in to the pleasures of convenience and syrupy drinks. It really hit the spot.

Good Advice

“For when you get down to it, is not the popular idea of Christianity simply this: that Jesus Christ was a great moral teacher and that if only we took His advice we might be able to establish a better social order and avoid another war?…

“It is quite true that if we took Christ’s advice we should soon be living in a happier world. You need not even go as far as Christ. If we did all that Plato or Aristotle or Confucius told us, we should get on a great deal better than we do. And so what? We never have followed the advice of the great teachers. Why are we likely to begin now? Why are we more likely to follow Christ than any of the others? Because He is the best moral teacher?
… If Christianity only means one more bit of good advice, then Christianity is of no importance at all. There has been no lack of good advice for the last four thousand years. A bit more makes no difference.”

- C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

precocious

Oh, it’s late. So very, very, late. I know I need to wake up early, but I feel like my brain is twirling with things to do. I honestly feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day.

I recently (as in, today) started interning at my church. It is a speedy stint “in ministry” - just two weeks. It’s the short-distance sprint of church internships. Effectively, I am going to be rather busy over the next two weeks. Much of it is fun-busy; but, on the other hand, I will have to be “on” all the time - talking with people, absorbing info and training, planning things.  I am finding it harder to be “on” recently. I keep thinking: 4 years ago, I wouldn’t have even blinked! I would have done this 24/7 any way! Now it takes more effort to throw myself into the life of this busy church. I’m feeling old. What’s wrong with me! I’m not even 23.

Thankfully, I can soon get on a plane to Colorado and switch “off”. Just mountains and grass and swimming and stars and road trips and so many other good things. Can’t wait.

I wanted to write more, but I’ve dillied too long. Good night!