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Ramblings from a Southern liberal, Boomer, single parent, grandmother, reunited birthmother, cancer survivor, pop-culture observer, retired teacher

Most dramatic lymphoma posts are from June 2002 - February 2003 archives.

Email Joy Durham at joydurham@comcast.net

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The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I cannot go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree, but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.



--Theodore Roethke






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Joy's Updates - Straight from the Horse's Mouth.
 
Tuesday, January 28, 2003  
What Do You Make?

This has made the email rounds, but I wanted to post it just in case you got the idea I had only negative thoughts about teaching. I was pointing out some occupational hazards which are certainly accurate. I agree with the message I copied and pasted or wouldn't have continued teaching as long as I did. In fact, I made a similar speech to someone who had risen in the ranks of the insurance nazis by finding loopholes to get out of paying the people they'd insured and was a vice-president. This conversation took place during our one-and-only, brief date after he asked me what I made and then told me his witholding tax was larger than my salary. He continued by patronizingly stating that teaching was a noble profession. I told him I had no problem knowing what I did was important and that the only reason he made what he did was that in business they let each other get by with it. He made sure I knew he made over a quarter of a million dollars a year by referring to it in various ways. Apparently he needed to do that to compensate for something small I had no interest in discovering.

What do you Make?

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued: "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?" He reminded the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about teachers: "Those who can do. Those who can't teach."

To corroborate, he said to another guest: "You're a teacher, Susan," he said. "Be honest. What do you make?"

Susan, who had a reputation of honesty and frankness, replied, "You want to know what I make?"

"I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor and an A- feel like a slap in the face if the student did not do his or her very best."

"I can make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall in absolute silence."

"I can make parents tremble in fear when I call home"

"You want to know what I make?"

"I make kids wonder."
"I make them question."
"I make them apologize and mean it."
"I make them write."
"I make them read, read, read."
"I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, and definitely beautiful over and over and over again, until they will never misspell either one of those words again."
"I make them show all their work in math and hide it all on their final drafts in English."
"I make them understand that if you have the brains, then follow your heart... and if someone ever tries to judge you by what you make, you pay them no attention."

"You want to know what I make?"

"I make a difference."
"What about you? What do you make?"

3:26:00 PM



 
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