I am not a person to make plans. I mean, I'm an INFJ and yes I prefer to know where and when I'll be hanging out well in advance, but I don't run my life by plans. I'm a passive person and I like to sort of let things happen to me, things tend to work out like that. Other people seem to have direction and ambition; I just sort of float around. I tend take my life one "chunk" at at time: in high school, I didn't think beyond college. In college, I didn't think beyond moving to Stockholm to be with my boyfriend. Turns out that necessitated a move to Korea, and now that I'm in Korea, I'm trying to figure out what the next chunk is.
I've been dating my boyfriend for a while now, about six years. I definitely want to spend my life with him, I'm not suffering from cold feet. But...I really like Korea. My job here is pretty easy and fun (most of the time), it's very easy to save money, and honestly I like puttering around on my own. Being a grown-up in Korea is surprisingly easy. Additionally, I've made a few friends here that I will miss when I go home. I'd like to have more than one year with them. (It's hard for me to make friends, but once I do, they're really important.) I'm running out of time here in Korea, and the pressing question just becomes even more important: what am I going to do when I go home?
Part of me wants to go back home, work my old job, lose some weight (vanity!), visit my boyfriend, and then come back Korea in 2011. I've taken to Korean culture pretty easily (like a fish to water, or more appropriately, a Russian to vodka). Plus, as a weigukin, I could rock graduate school for an obscenely little amount of money. Not that I've ever been particularly enthusiastic about graduate school, but much like Jaclyn, I feel that as a "smart kid" I'm obligated to collect degrees like Girl Scout badges. At the least, I'd like to take some Korean classes.
At the same time, despite all my fun here, I miss my boyfriend. I know he misses me, too—to be honest, he's probably the one worse off during my contract. And while we've spent most of our relationship on different continents, I feel like one more year in Korea would be an unbearable strain on our relationship.
Unfortunately, he would be hard pressed to get a job here in Korea. You need a four-year degree to teach here, and he never went to university. And there's not much else for white people who don't speak Korean to do here, it's pretty much just teaching or military.
So I have before me: move to Stockholm, stay in Korea. Not counting my love affair with Indonesia, or flights of fantasy I have from time to time, where I spend a year or two just idling around with college friends in a new city back home. There's so much in life to do, it's impossible for me to pick.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
What am I doing with my life? Part II
Graduate school, huh? Huh. Well here's the thing (and yes I overuse that phrase): my husband and a few friends are going to graduate school in the fall. Also, news flash: though I may have ADD and I may not always come off as very "with it," I'm not dumb. Being married to an engineer can make someone with an art degree a little territorial about brains and talent. Joke though we may, we BFAs have plenty of intelligence, we just didn't choose to major in math or science when we went off to school. But I digress.
I feel somewhat entitled to a higher degree, as if being gifted obligates me to earn as many academic achievements as I can. The thing is (see?) I like what I do. I don't want to give up a ton of time and money, cut back my hours at work, not audition for the symphony, and all that just to get a graduate degree in something else I'm not sure about. Because really, who of my close friends can really say I was sure about majoring in painting?
So as I sift through the options (I live in a major city -- there are many) and try to decide between Non-Profit Management, Sociology, Social Work, or Creative Writing & Publication Arts, I wonder: what's the point? What am I trying to accomplish here? Am I honestly just trying to use up my $10K AmeriCorps education award?
I feel like in your 30s you either raise children or find your calling. My hope is I can do both, and not alone. Another secret: introverted me really wants to go through life with a nice little group of friends, chasing (finding? just making up?) our dreams and weaving a crazy extended family. Given these admittedly pretty weird life goals, what do I see myself doing with my education monies and my mid-to-late 20s? Am I working for a performing arts organization? Am I at my current job and auditioning for the symphony? Am I starting a business? Moving to the country and starting an intentional community? Still living in the city, stubbornly raising children there to disprove the naysayers who said "oh, you say you won't, but you'll leave by the time those kids turn two"?
I have this feeling really awesome things are in store for me, I just can't for the life of me figure out what they are. Of course I just need to wait and see, but how much should I be waiting vs. actively moving forward? At what point am I just kidding myself, making believe that there's more to life than this? That I'm going to find something to do every day that's just so RIGHT I can barely contain my joy? Everyday happiness and contentment can make me so complacent, what is it going to take for me to risk upsetting the balance?
I feel somewhat entitled to a higher degree, as if being gifted obligates me to earn as many academic achievements as I can. The thing is (see?) I like what I do. I don't want to give up a ton of time and money, cut back my hours at work, not audition for the symphony, and all that just to get a graduate degree in something else I'm not sure about. Because really, who of my close friends can really say I was sure about majoring in painting?
So as I sift through the options (I live in a major city -- there are many) and try to decide between Non-Profit Management, Sociology, Social Work, or Creative Writing & Publication Arts, I wonder: what's the point? What am I trying to accomplish here? Am I honestly just trying to use up my $10K AmeriCorps education award?
I feel like in your 30s you either raise children or find your calling. My hope is I can do both, and not alone. Another secret: introverted me really wants to go through life with a nice little group of friends, chasing (finding? just making up?) our dreams and weaving a crazy extended family. Given these admittedly pretty weird life goals, what do I see myself doing with my education monies and my mid-to-late 20s? Am I working for a performing arts organization? Am I at my current job and auditioning for the symphony? Am I starting a business? Moving to the country and starting an intentional community? Still living in the city, stubbornly raising children there to disprove the naysayers who said "oh, you say you won't, but you'll leave by the time those kids turn two"?
I have this feeling really awesome things are in store for me, I just can't for the life of me figure out what they are. Of course I just need to wait and see, but how much should I be waiting vs. actively moving forward? At what point am I just kidding myself, making believe that there's more to life than this? That I'm going to find something to do every day that's just so RIGHT I can barely contain my joy? Everyday happiness and contentment can make me so complacent, what is it going to take for me to risk upsetting the balance?
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Achievement Gap and the Matthew Paradox
Two days ago, I received some pretty big news: I got into USC's Master's in Teaching program. Woo! The MAT program is something that I only learned about a few months ago, but I've totally fallen in love with the idea: take super-interactive classes online until you're ready to student teach, get your teaching practicum out of the way, and graduate with a master's and a California credential. Of course, it's always super exciting to get into the school of your choice, but I'm even more thrilled about USC's great history as a superb institute for urban education initiatives. My courses will focus on helping me connect with and understand the needs of urban students, the ones most stricken by the achievement gap.
So, in lieu of a "real" post, I thought I'd post one of my application essays, written totally in earnest, about my feelings about the achievement gap and how it ties in to the ages-old Matthew Paradox. As an added bonus, I'll also post a word cloud of the essay... consider it the lite version.
Here's that image (sorry guys, I usually have no problem posting pictures, but this one seems stubborn)
And, here's that essay:
The achievement gap is a perfectly apt illustration of the Matthew Paradox. In the Gospels, Matthew states that “For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.” (Matthew 35:29) That paradox precisely describes the cycle of failure in groups with low socio-economic status. The job of the teacher, then, is to distribute fairly, denying the paradox and ensuring equity.
So often, we find the students with all the advantages given every incentive to learn; they have after school activities, music lessons, and well-educated teachers. Instead of putting our most brilliant educators in the neediest classrooms, we reward our disadvantaged students with the most inexperienced teachers with the least training, the fewest programs. There are three things that we can and must do to close the achievement gap: we must be the best teachers possible, we must offer our students every opportunity to learn, and we absolutely must appeal to our lawmakers to pass necessary reforms.
One of the simplest ways to level the playing field is for great teachers to take work in low-end schools. Working in Compton is much more difficult than working in Beverly Hills, but students demand fairness and find inequity everywhere in depressed areas -- it is the teacher's place to offer equal treatment. Short of moving all good teachers to Compton, though, what other options remain? Teachers in tough schools need to work hard, harder than their peers in high-end communities, to continue improving themselves and keeping abreast of the latest advances in their fields.
Alongside polishing our pedagogical pedigrees, we must work hard to reach out to our students. We need to rely on practical strategies that we can employ daily to reach out to low-income students and their parents. If we are to connect to them on any level, we must begin to understand poverty and our student's lives. We can teach about the history of and current struggles with poverty and workers' rights. We can teach them about Che Guevera, explain the role of labor unions, and champion anti-poverty activism. We can teach them that “low-income” does not have to mean unprivileged and we can never assume that low-income students cannot achieve as much as any wealthier student.
Teachers in high-need areas need to be more flexible than their peers. We need to host extra tutoring sessions whenever students can attend, even if that means sacrificing a Saturday morning. Similarly, we need to involve parents using whatever means available: written notes, phone calls, weekend office hours. We cannot hold back when attempting to break our students free from the cycle of poverty; we owe it to them and to ourselves.
We must never lose sight of the intelligence of our students, understanding that poverty is a social disease, not a diagnosis of personal failure. Above all else, when working to bridge the achievement gap, teachers must not lose sight of their goals: to produce well-rounded, productive adults out of whatever students we receive. Though the Matthew Paradox has defined urban lifestyle for centuries, we can and will overcome the past.
So, in lieu of a "real" post, I thought I'd post one of my application essays, written totally in earnest, about my feelings about the achievement gap and how it ties in to the ages-old Matthew Paradox. As an added bonus, I'll also post a word cloud of the essay... consider it the lite version.
Here's that image (sorry guys, I usually have no problem posting pictures, but this one seems stubborn)
And, here's that essay:
The achievement gap is a perfectly apt illustration of the Matthew Paradox. In the Gospels, Matthew states that “For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.” (Matthew 35:29) That paradox precisely describes the cycle of failure in groups with low socio-economic status. The job of the teacher, then, is to distribute fairly, denying the paradox and ensuring equity.
So often, we find the students with all the advantages given every incentive to learn; they have after school activities, music lessons, and well-educated teachers. Instead of putting our most brilliant educators in the neediest classrooms, we reward our disadvantaged students with the most inexperienced teachers with the least training, the fewest programs. There are three things that we can and must do to close the achievement gap: we must be the best teachers possible, we must offer our students every opportunity to learn, and we absolutely must appeal to our lawmakers to pass necessary reforms.
One of the simplest ways to level the playing field is for great teachers to take work in low-end schools. Working in Compton is much more difficult than working in Beverly Hills, but students demand fairness and find inequity everywhere in depressed areas -- it is the teacher's place to offer equal treatment. Short of moving all good teachers to Compton, though, what other options remain? Teachers in tough schools need to work hard, harder than their peers in high-end communities, to continue improving themselves and keeping abreast of the latest advances in their fields.
Alongside polishing our pedagogical pedigrees, we must work hard to reach out to our students. We need to rely on practical strategies that we can employ daily to reach out to low-income students and their parents. If we are to connect to them on any level, we must begin to understand poverty and our student's lives. We can teach about the history of and current struggles with poverty and workers' rights. We can teach them about Che Guevera, explain the role of labor unions, and champion anti-poverty activism. We can teach them that “low-income” does not have to mean unprivileged and we can never assume that low-income students cannot achieve as much as any wealthier student.
Teachers in high-need areas need to be more flexible than their peers. We need to host extra tutoring sessions whenever students can attend, even if that means sacrificing a Saturday morning. Similarly, we need to involve parents using whatever means available: written notes, phone calls, weekend office hours. We cannot hold back when attempting to break our students free from the cycle of poverty; we owe it to them and to ourselves.
We must never lose sight of the intelligence of our students, understanding that poverty is a social disease, not a diagnosis of personal failure. Above all else, when working to bridge the achievement gap, teachers must not lose sight of their goals: to produce well-rounded, productive adults out of whatever students we receive. Though the Matthew Paradox has defined urban lifestyle for centuries, we can and will overcome the past.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Aspirations, etc
This could be one of those goofy bucket list memes, or it could be serious. You decide.
I've been thinking about what I really want to do in life... beyond just the next few years or today's passing fancy. So, I thought I might list a few goals and let the internet judge me (gently, please!)
1-2 years from now:
I see no reason that I can't do both. My plan is to start a small organic farm close to a city (Los Angeles..?). Ideally, it would be a mix of many different crops ranging from tomatoes and herbs to fruit trees and flowers. I would invite students to come a few times over the course of the year -- they would help to plant the seeds by hand, later they would help to prune and pull weeds, then a third trip would be a harvest day with fresh produce for a special lunch.
I want to spend the next decade or so honing my education skills and learning about practical farming. Then, I want to get my hands dirty and welcome little ones to learn that tomatoes don't grow out of supermarket bins and that bugs are just another lovely part of our ecosystem.
Comments? Judgments? Let me know -- this extrovert craves feedback!
I've been thinking about what I really want to do in life... beyond just the next few years or today's passing fancy. So, I thought I might list a few goals and let the internet judge me (gently, please!)
1-2 years from now:
- get married (June 19, 2010... make your plans now!)
- obtain Master's in teaching + CA credential (sometime around Jan-Feb 2011 )
- start teaching in a high-need school that I can bike to
- have a firm grasp on conversational Spanish
- buy a house
- start a family (later rather than sooner)
- own property (not a measly front yard, but 1/2 acre plus)
- start a teaching farm for at-risk/urban/land-phobic young people
I see no reason that I can't do both. My plan is to start a small organic farm close to a city (Los Angeles..?). Ideally, it would be a mix of many different crops ranging from tomatoes and herbs to fruit trees and flowers. I would invite students to come a few times over the course of the year -- they would help to plant the seeds by hand, later they would help to prune and pull weeds, then a third trip would be a harvest day with fresh produce for a special lunch.
I want to spend the next decade or so honing my education skills and learning about practical farming. Then, I want to get my hands dirty and welcome little ones to learn that tomatoes don't grow out of supermarket bins and that bugs are just another lovely part of our ecosystem.
Comments? Judgments? Let me know -- this extrovert craves feedback!
Better Late..
Dear everyone,
I'm an extrovert.
That seems to be the theme of this blog, right? Introducing yourself by whatever characteristic most defines your interest in interaction. You'd think such a loud mouth-breather like me would be all over an open platform blogging space, but no. You see, I'm more of a "failed" extrovert, if you're feeling judgmental, a "blooming" extrovert, if you're feeling giving. I am outgoing and talkative and friendly and I don't really hold things back (more on that later), but I also fail to make friends easily and I prefer a quiet evening over a club or other external event. Yes, I speak ceaselessly -- I'm even talking to myself right now. But, conversations with myself or even ThatGuyAtTheMarket aren't bridges into friendship.
So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm an introverted extrovert? I am always more comfortable with a companion, but I'm not looking to be overwhelmed (just a friend or two at home, please.. not the whole club on Sunset, thanks). It's those friends, though, that are the trouble. I feel as though, after having moved to the most social city in the world (did I mention I live in Hollywood?), I should be reveling in the party atmosphere and sipping from L.A.'s glorious nightlife cup. Instead, I'm spending whole weekends without leaving the house (except to visit the farmers' market, aka. LOVE OF MY LIFE), accepting friends into my quiet home-sanctum. If you routinely spent your Saturday nights in Hollywood calmly cooking, cleaning, and watching Coppola films with a neighbor, would you worry? How about feeling a little inadequate?
Aside: what a lovely way to join a blog -- angsty ruminations (chewchewchew) on inadequacy. Don't worry, I'm getting to the happy part!
After months of trying hard to fit into L.A. life -- the parties, the glamour, the $20 cover charges -- I've finally realized that L.A. is just not fit for me. And I'm not gonna fight it. So, from now on, I'll stop being merely content, but actually proud, to spend my Saturday nights baking lasagna and my Sunday nights playing board games with TheBoy and our upstairs neighbor. I will RELISH my lack of hangover and saved cover charges and not-sore feet. And, most importantly, I will stop trying to make friends with the people who love L.A. and couldn't see themselves leaving (more on that later).
I'm coming to terms with my own sort of extroversion and looking forward to where it takes me.
I'm an extrovert.
That seems to be the theme of this blog, right? Introducing yourself by whatever characteristic most defines your interest in interaction. You'd think such a loud mouth-breather like me would be all over an open platform blogging space, but no. You see, I'm more of a "failed" extrovert, if you're feeling judgmental, a "blooming" extrovert, if you're feeling giving. I am outgoing and talkative and friendly and I don't really hold things back (more on that later), but I also fail to make friends easily and I prefer a quiet evening over a club or other external event. Yes, I speak ceaselessly -- I'm even talking to myself right now. But, conversations with myself or even ThatGuyAtTheMarket aren't bridges into friendship.
So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm an introverted extrovert? I am always more comfortable with a companion, but I'm not looking to be overwhelmed (just a friend or two at home, please.. not the whole club on Sunset, thanks). It's those friends, though, that are the trouble. I feel as though, after having moved to the most social city in the world (did I mention I live in Hollywood?), I should be reveling in the party atmosphere and sipping from L.A.'s glorious nightlife cup. Instead, I'm spending whole weekends without leaving the house (except to visit the farmers' market, aka. LOVE OF MY LIFE), accepting friends into my quiet home-sanctum. If you routinely spent your Saturday nights in Hollywood calmly cooking, cleaning, and watching Coppola films with a neighbor, would you worry? How about feeling a little inadequate?
Aside: what a lovely way to join a blog -- angsty ruminations (chewchewchew) on inadequacy. Don't worry, I'm getting to the happy part!
After months of trying hard to fit into L.A. life -- the parties, the glamour, the $20 cover charges -- I've finally realized that L.A. is just not fit for me. And I'm not gonna fight it. So, from now on, I'll stop being merely content, but actually proud, to spend my Saturday nights baking lasagna and my Sunday nights playing board games with TheBoy and our upstairs neighbor. I will RELISH my lack of hangover and saved cover charges and not-sore feet. And, most importantly, I will stop trying to make friends with the people who love L.A. and couldn't see themselves leaving (more on that later).
I'm coming to terms with my own sort of extroversion and looking forward to where it takes me.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Untitled.
Lately I've been doing that thing again where the whole world is set to a soundtrack and everything I see is a splinteringly beautiful scene in a movie. Watching passing cars, dancing on curbs, looking at the sky, wanting to reach out and touch the friends around me but feeling I'm in a way dancing within a set, free free free but at the same time just watching.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
"What am I doing with my life?"
So, I feel a need to tell a story. I wrote a long-standing (oh whatever, one-plus-year) photography blog called Words + Images at my personal website. My family knew about it (not true of most blogging projects, including this one) and I handed out business cards with the URL. I spoke at a press conference as the writer for that blog and represented the art blogging community of Baltimore.
On top of all that, I followed a whole slew of art blogs, tried to keep up with the goings-on in Baltimore's art scene, and generally made a point of being somewhat of an expert on my subject matter.
A few months ago my life became pretty stressful. My employment situation was weird and/or uncertain, I had way too much on my shoulders at the office (notice how well those two mesh together), and I didn't do a lot of photographic work during that time either. Adding insult to injury, I had failed to create a vibrant commenting community on the blog, which I had defined as a primary goal in working so hard on it in the first place. Combine all that together and you get a whole lot of me not writing in my twice-a-week blog.
The thing is, since my family knew about this blog, I started getting questions. "Are you ever going to update your blog again?" "Well, I enjoyed reading it."
Why is it that family can mean so well, yet make you feel so much like you're not living up to your full potential? The plague of my adult life has been my consistent belief that most of what I hold in my hands is just that: potential.
Part of me wants to accept my broad spectrum of talents (i.e. lack of focus) for what it is and write a new blog about that...which is what I'm doing at the moment. The other part of me, the little voice of self-doubt, tells me I'm accepting failure. I should have persevered and kept doing something that felt like an absolute chore instead of moving on to whatever excited me at the moment. For now, though, I'm going to try embracing the fact that I'm not just a photographer, painter, writer, or musician. I identify as all of those things, and if I write a blog about my life as a creative person it needs to acknowledge who I really am. Even if I learn my destiny is to experience many things and truly excel in none of them at all, that's not something I can deny.
As always, though, I'm caught in the war between these two voices. I honestly don't know whether to accept my natural state of being or to insist upon something different, a singular focus that is both easily comprehended and readily congratulated.
On top of all that, I followed a whole slew of art blogs, tried to keep up with the goings-on in Baltimore's art scene, and generally made a point of being somewhat of an expert on my subject matter.
A few months ago my life became pretty stressful. My employment situation was weird and/or uncertain, I had way too much on my shoulders at the office (notice how well those two mesh together), and I didn't do a lot of photographic work during that time either. Adding insult to injury, I had failed to create a vibrant commenting community on the blog, which I had defined as a primary goal in working so hard on it in the first place. Combine all that together and you get a whole lot of me not writing in my twice-a-week blog.
The thing is, since my family knew about this blog, I started getting questions. "Are you ever going to update your blog again?" "Well, I enjoyed reading it."
Why is it that family can mean so well, yet make you feel so much like you're not living up to your full potential? The plague of my adult life has been my consistent belief that most of what I hold in my hands is just that: potential.
Part of me wants to accept my broad spectrum of talents (i.e. lack of focus) for what it is and write a new blog about that...which is what I'm doing at the moment. The other part of me, the little voice of self-doubt, tells me I'm accepting failure. I should have persevered and kept doing something that felt like an absolute chore instead of moving on to whatever excited me at the moment. For now, though, I'm going to try embracing the fact that I'm not just a photographer, painter, writer, or musician. I identify as all of those things, and if I write a blog about my life as a creative person it needs to acknowledge who I really am. Even if I learn my destiny is to experience many things and truly excel in none of them at all, that's not something I can deny.
As always, though, I'm caught in the war between these two voices. I honestly don't know whether to accept my natural state of being or to insist upon something different, a singular focus that is both easily comprehended and readily congratulated.
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