Growing up.

Wow.

So much has changed in just a few short months. Upon finishing up my student teaching last Monday, I feel even more "grown up," another step closer to entering the "real world" and getting a job. I have a few feelings on that, but wasn't really able to properly order them until today. I was watching Glee (ok, laugh...), and one of the main characters was talking about how growing up is all about loss. It seems you have everything when you're young, and growing up is all about losing those few things. I mean come on, who hasn't heard about "losing your innocence," right? I think this has a deeper meaning though, and I appreciate you taking a moment to think with me.

A few things I've lost in the past few months/years:

-financial support from my parents (for the most part). I feed and clothe myself, and pay my own rent.

-friends. I left a ton of friends behind after graduating high school, and leave behind more each semester in college. Although some stick around, friends seem to be fairly transient these days, for what it's worth.

-health. Each day I get older, and I am in worse health. I mean, generally, this is true for all people...as we grow old, our health declines; usually this results in our death. I think I decline a little more quickly than most, so this is certainly worth mentioning for me.

-the ease of obtaining A's in classes. This used to be so simple in grade school and high school. Now, I work diligently for every grade I receive, and even then sometimes I don't see the results I think I should.

And now, for the most recent thing I've lost...my students.

In August, I stepped into a fifth grade classroom, expecting a pretty normal experience. What I gained is knowledge and experience that has proved to be life-changing. I will never view education in the same way.

A big part of life includes change, but have you ever gone through something that left you entirely different than when you began? This is my student teaching experience.

I started out viewing student teaching as a learning experience; very quickly, my mind changed and it became a challenge that I accepted and needed to complete. Every day was intense and required an inordinate amount of preparation. I quickly learned that there is no "sleeping on the job" in teaching--in order to be a successful teacher, you have to be on your best game every day. Your students don't accept "I didn't have time to get everything ready" as an excuse...if you're unprepared, they can tell, and will take advantage of you. So, the first part of the challenge was learning to be prepared for anything and everything, and most of all, being prepared to teach.

But what happens when what you're teaching is above what your students know? This happened to me not too far into the semester--I was teaching something related to probability, and assumed my students knew how to deal with fractions.

Was I ever wrong.

The second part of the challenge was learning that you always need a backup plan, you need to be flexible, and not unwilling to take a step back and quickly re-evaluate the situation. I didn't know what to do when my students stared at me incredulously when I brought up fractions. I looked at my teacher, as if to say, "What now?" Incredibly enough...she didn't help me. She let me stand there for a few moments, and I could feel myself sinking. I wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground and run down the sewer. How could I not be ready to back up and meet my students' needs? Now I know better how to analyze what I'm teaching from an objective standpoint; I'm always ready with extra resources in order to address situations such as these.

The third part of my challenge was learning to take responsibility for my students and their learning. Teaching is a two way street--I teach my students, and they teach me. However, I am primarily responsible for what their classroom experience looks like. In that regard, I learned that I do not have enough time to cover everything so I have to make use of my time in the best way possible with relevant learning experiences.

And the last part of the challenge, possibly the hardest, was figuring out how to say goodbye to the 55 or so young people to whom I became so closely attached during my challenge. Another day, another loss...Some losses are harder to handle than others. This has certainly been one of the hardest goodbyes...I spent more active waking time with my students than nearly anyone else in my life, including my closest friends. I guess Rihanna sums it up best when she sings:

And I know you’re going somewhere to make a better life
I hope that you find it on the first try
And even though it kills me
That you have to go
I know it'll be sadder
If you never hit the road
So farewell!

[Chorus]
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
That somebody is me

And I'm gon' try to hold it all in
Try to hold back my tears
So it don't make you stay here
I'mma try to be a big girl now
Cause I don't wanna be the reason you don't leave
Farewell

[Chorus]
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
Farewell
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
That somebody is me

My students wrote me an entire book thanking me for "everything I'd taught them," and begging me not to go. That definitely made leaving a whole lot more difficult. However, I'm taking this loss as simply another part of growing up. We have to leave what we love when we grow up; this is clear. Sometimes we choose to leave, sometimes we're forced to leave; in the end, we only truly have ourselves and our accomplishments. I'll have another classroom someday, filled with more bright-eyed eager students, but I will never have these fifth graders back. I will never have an experience quite the same as this one. I'll never see things the same as I used to; I'm filled with so much more knowledge and motivation now than I used to be, and this is what's going to drive me to leave, to reach on for "bigger and better" things, despite the loss I feel.

In the end, even if I lose everything, I'll always take these memories on with me, until I breathe my very last breath. They'll continue to haunt me, to guide me, to motivate me and push me to my full potential.

Maybe this isn't a loss, then, in the end. Maybe it's a gain, and I just have to change my perspective to see it.

The art of the "truth."

"Artists use lies to tell the truth. Yes, I create lies, but because you believe them, you find something true in yourself."

I am an artist.

Lately, I've been contemplating the meaning of the truth. I've always seen truth as "reality," or that which exists before my very eyes. I viewed truth from a very objective standpoint, narrow, and for the most part, unchangeable.

I'm seeing more and more how variable truth can be, and how one's perception of the truth can change both the meaning and outcome of the situation entirely. I, for one, try to keep an upbeat and positive attitude in check with everything I do; is it true that I am an optimist? I realize more and more that this is entirely unanswerable, because it is subjective and in subjectivism (if that's a word...) there is little or no truth.

What replaces truth, in a subjective situation, is perception and feeling toward the situation. Through feeling one may find truth; though, not about the situation, only about the feeling.

Go back to the quote there, at the beginning. Few people tell the truth; not because they are liars, but because there is little truth to be had in much of what we do. Truth beams at us through subjects such as math, and to a degree, science; truth shines through proven objects and ideas. However, what about the rest? Consider an opinion; can an opinion be true? I would argue yes and no. Opinion is untrue in that it is not fact; however, an opinion can be true if it accurately reflects the feelings and ideas of the person holding the opinion. Your opinions may not be true for me, nor mine for you. So how do we go on judging truth as though it's a fundamental part of life?

I would say that, for a large part of my life, I've searched for "truth." I've studied math and science in a great search for truth. I've abandoned belief in "God," because religion is not true to me. I've also separated myself from philosophy and unproven theory for the same reason: my inability to find truth.

But why is finding truth so important?

Anything can become a lie, no matter how "true" it may be, if the sayer of the phrase lacks belief in it. A phrase so simple (yet complex) as "I love you" can turn from ultimate truth into one of the most beautiful lies in existence. And, if the audience is to believe the phrase, the lie so to speak, he or she may find truth in themselves. Truth inevitably and invariably becomes an object of perception, then--is this possible? Is it possible to use a lie to tell the truth? Yes, because although I do not perceive something as true, when I share it with you, it may become true for you.

In speaking the "truth," then, it may be more considerable to one's audience to consider the outcome rather than the factual evidence that may or may not back up one's claim. How will the other person perceive the "truth;" will they find it to be true?

I love you, I love you, I love you; if I mean what I say then it is truth to me; if you fail to believe it, then it is false. If, however, I say it without meaning, but you believe it in good faith, then it is true to you but untrue to me. From an outsider's perspective, then, is it true or untrue? Arguably, it is from a subjective standpoint, and there is no room for truth aside from the truth which each of the participants finds in the phrase and moreover the implications of the phrase.

In other words, what is true to me may be untrue to you, and not even a matter of truth to a third party.

Therefore, aside from proven fact, what place does truth have in our lives? I have come so far, at least in my current state, to be able to argue that truth either doesn't exist in the subjective world, or does not matter in many situations, especially those based on perception rather than data. I don't know if I'm right here (what is "right," anyway?), and for one of the first times in my life, I'm enjoying being in this state of contemplation.

Until next time, be an artist. I know I am.

And so it began...

Wow, it's been about a month since I've written a blog, and I must admit...I miss it!

Well, I started student teaching, so I thought I'd talk about that a little bit. As if it doesn't already consume my life, right? Ha ha ha. . .

I'm in a fifth grade classroom, and man are they cute! They're so...small! I guess I got super used to working with 6th grade and up--I forgot how small 5th graders are. Another initial impression of my fifth graders are...they are still fairly innocent. The upside: for the most part, they behave really well! The downside: they don't understand sarcasm...at all. Case in point, from today:

Student hand goes up.
Me: Yes?
Student: I have a question.
Me: Sorry, no questions allowed.
Student: Oh. *hangs head*
...
Me: OF course questions are allowed!! Ask away. :)

I'm still not used to the fact that they don't always understand humor--they're a super literal bunch. On the other hand, I love them entirely.

A few things I've accomplished: bulletin boards, grading papers, learning students' names (this is a HUGE deal), and, as of this week, teaching one math class! According to the planning guide, I'll be teaching full days before I know it. I can't begin to express how excited I am for this to happen--to have "total control." Not that teaching is all about control, but I think that the kids will respond a lot better to one consistent teacher instead of (now) having to switch between my coop and me.

The thing I've been most disgusted with since having started student teaching is the following: encountering teachers who hate kids. I mean seriously?! I get the argument of "this is my degree, and changing careers is not possible." Ok, sure, but do you know how many young lives you are RUINING by staying in this profession? I mean honestly. The kids understand that you don't like them. Withholding bathroom privileges is NOT an acceptable punishment. Also, call me oldfashioned, but I believe in RECESS. I need the break too! I just can't believe that teachers go on living their lives in misery (clearly) and making others' lives miserable as well. I'd much rather see a teacher leave the profession to go work a job at McD's than to torture any more students by doing something that they don't want to do (teaching).

I love kids. I can say that to the utmost degree, and without any sense of perversion: I love teaching and I love kids. I love the random stuff they come up with, I love passing on knowledge, I love every single moment of the day: giving and collecting homework (or not), leading a group discussion, planning activities...and most importantly, I love seeing it all come together EVERY day to prove to be effective for the kids. Teaching is like directing an orchestra: if everyone can work together, well, a ton of progress is made. If one person is off, out of tune, or what have you--it can throw off the entire day.

The one thing I want to work on in the near future is not letting the day's events influence my mood to such a degree. My mood from 3pm onward is affected by what occurred between 9AM and 2:45PM. It shouldn't be that way, but it is. I hope to work on that...really soon.

But for now, I need to go grade papers! :)

Peace, y'all. And I promise more (interesting) blogs to come!

te amo, te amo.

"Don't it mean I love you? Think it means I love you."

From my short (nearly) 21 years of life, I have seen time and time again those that surround me ask "What is love? Do I really love him/her? How will I know when I truly love someone?"

Though I don't proclaim to be better educated than any with this pondering, I have lately given this idea much thought; I don't think I've come to a new and praise-worthy solution, but I can share what it means to me. It all started making sense after...well, after a progression of time really, since forever ago until several short minutes ago, watching "Mansfield Park," based on a Jane Austen novel. One of the characters states, "There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time." And I think that that sums up what I've been thinking about love--any conclusion I've come to has likely been on the same level of intellect though not expressed nearly as well.

Perhaps it's the way words evade me when it comes to something so important; I can speak clearly, concisely, and professionally about nearly anything: education, money, society, and so on but when someone asks me for my personal feelings towards them, as a person, I often find my tongue and mind to simply not want to cooperate at all, and am left with such nonsense phrases as, "I can't explain it, I just do [love/care for you]!"

This is often inefficient and may have left the other person not believing me whatsoever. And, I don't blame him (or her). But this idea of forms of love--this portrays nearly every thought I've had as of late, and here's how (please note that these do not all describe the same people, or types of love):

I love you when get a text from you, showing that you're using your brain, unlike most highschoolers your age.
I love you when you call me, just to make sure I'm alright.
I love you when you wrap your arms tightly around me.
I love you when complain about work, because you trust me to not judge you based on your opinion of others.
I love you when you say exactly what I'm thinking.
I love you when you say something I can challenge.
I love you when I teach you something new; I also love you when I can learn from you at the same time.
I love you when you take risks for me.
I love you when you look into my eyes, and say nothing.
I love you when you ask me for help, it shows that you think highly of my abilities.
I love you when you take the time to explain what you're thinking; it shows you care about me.
I love you when you tell me I'm beautiful, or gorgeous; I know you never mean (solely) physically.
I love you when you talk about leaving town, and escaping to another state, or even country; it shows me that you have big dreams, and trust me to be able to dream with you.
I love you when you tell me you can't buy my groceries, but will gladly take me grocery shopping with you; it shows me that you value our time together.
I love you when you tell me about being afraid of the future; it shows me that you can depend on me to understand and help in whatever way I can.
I love you when you play me a new song, or recommend a new book; it shows that you want to incorporate me into one of your true loves.
I love you when you play the piano; the improvisation shows you are proud of your talent, and want to share it with me.
I love you when you raise your hand to ask me a question; it shows that you know I'll help you find an answer.
I love you when you call me up late at night; it shows that our old friendship still means to you what it means to me.
I love you when you write me postcards from other states and countries; it shows that, even when away, you're thinking of me.
I love you when I get a message saying, "Morseland tonight?" because it shows I've been incorporated into a strong group of friends with a true bond.
I love you when you kiss me; it tells me that you care much about making me happy as you do being happy.
I love you when I cook you dinner; your appreciation is worth far more than any meal I'll provide you.
I love you when you tell me you don't care that I walk differently, or eat differently, than most people; it shows that you embrace my differences rather than ostracizing me for them.
I love you when you ask my opinion on something, even if it's just clothing, because it shows me that you value my opinion as much as I value yours.
I love you when you tell me I need another surgery, or a new medicine, because it shows that you're trying to preserve my health for as long as possible.
I love you when you talk to me about other girls who are beautiful; it shows that you trust me not to get angry, or jealous. Instead, I learn to respect your opinion; you give me the same in return.
I love you even when you call me with a computer question; though at times it feels as though you're ungrateful, I know you wouldn't feel comfortable calling "just anyone," and it warms my heart to know that you can trust me to be honest and steadfast in helping you.
I love you when you look at me and tell me there is no God, because I believe the same thing, and I revel in the fact that we can bond over this.
I love you when you call me and share your drunken philosophies late at night (or early in the morning), because I have another opportunity to learn more about you.
I love you when you complain about your summer reading; even though you think you're "above" it, I know you'll learn something.
I love you when you text me something so hilariously funny that I have the urge to spit out whatever's in my mouth; it shows me that you know me well enough to know what I'll appreciate, and care about me enough to share it with me.
I love you every day that you don't smoke a cigarette; it shows me that even though you set a bad example for me growing up, you did have the sense to change your ways.
I love you every time you poke me on facebook, because even though we have each moved on to other relationships, it shows that you still think of me as I think of you, and that we can still find some common, communicative ground.
I love you when you tell me you love me; it inspires hope in me that maybe someone realizes love the way in which I have for so long.

So then, what is love? I look at some of the words I use above, and I see: inspire, show, share, teach, learn, opportunity, trust, value, appreciate, bond, friendship...just to name a few. I don't think that love is one thing; rather, love is a combination of some (if not all) of these things. For me, love is not what love is for you. Likewise, for Sally or Tommy or Billy or Jen, love is something entirely different. Love is a moment. And, the people we love the most are those with whom we spend the most loving moments. I'm lucky enough to have a few of those people in my life; though I certainly can't proclaim to spend every single solitary moment loving them, I can say that I spend many moments loving them...inspiring them, trusting them, learning from them, bonding with them, appreciating them, valuing them, sharing with them, showing them (or being shown by them), and so on. Te amo, te amo...it's not one thing. It's many things, and it's amazing.

As I was writing this list and thinking of the people I was describing, it came to my attention that I was not simply describing thoughts. Nor was I simply describing words. Nor was I simply describing actions. I was describing a combination of thoughts, words, and actions, and my reactions to them. As I think about how, when, where, or why I love someone else, I realize that I love each and every person in a different way at a different time. I realize that each person that I love holds a significant place in my life, and I can say that I love each person differently...because there are as many forms of love as there are moments in time, and with each passing moment, I love you in a different way.

ungrateful, bitch?

This weekend has been "the experience of a lifetime," truly. I'll begin writing this, though if it turns into a rant I may scrap it or come back and edit it at a later point in time. I'll try not to get too far off topic, though. :)

Last weekend, my mom's computer screen died. If you read the last blog (hint, hint) called "failure," you'll know all about that experience. Well, my mother had requested that I come "home" again this weekend to help her pick out a new computer (laptop). She also promised that I could pick out my birthday present (a pair of "real" headphones). So, Friday evening I took the Metra out to the suburbs. Within an hour of being there, I got into a fight with my mom AND my dad. Not the same fight--but awful all the same. I was seething pure rage, and couldn't stop sobbing. Thankfully, an old friend came and picked me up around midnight. We stayed out most of the night, and I strolled through the door around 4:30AM. We ate tacos (haha!) and then sat in a park, and looked at the stars, and talked for about 3-3.5 hours. We talked about everything--life, school, family, philosophy--it was absolutely what I needed. I came back home and slept, recharged for the next day (Saturday). On Saturday, I found out my mom was working both Saturday AND Sunday. I asked her why she made me travel out to the suburbs over the weekend if she was busy anyway--when was I supposed to go help her shop for this computer? She said she effed up, that she had forgotten she was scheduled to work on Sunday, and that we'd figure it out. Best Buy is open until 7PM on Sundays, and she only had to work until 4PM, so her plan was to go right after work.

In the meantime, she asked me for help in finishing up her schoolwork. She had to submit an entire portfolio for one of her classes by 11PM on Saturday night. At 9:50PM, I informed her that the program would lock her out after 11PM, if that's when the due date was set. She was unaware, and started cursing. Then, she asked me for my help. What was I supposed to say, no? So, I offered to help her. I thought I would just be typing assignments, since she still hand-writes all of her assignments before typing them. I typed one, and then she typed one. While she typed hers, she asked me to do one of the assignments for her. Yes, that's right, my own mother was asking me to do her homework for her. I don't think I've ever done someone else's work to that extent before. Sure, I've done the majority of the work in group projects, but this was different. My mother put her own, and only her own, name on this assignment. I, however, wrote the entire thing.

It was not a long assignment--just a one page reflection on her "philosophy" of teaching students with special needs. I wrote down my philosophy, and hoped she agreed. At the end, instead of thanking me, she simply pointed out that I left a typo near the end ("fins" instead of "finds"--not an easy one to catch). As it was, she only submitted the assignment two minutes before she would have gotten locked out of the program. She left the room, and fell asleep on the couch. But she didn't leave the room before yelling at me. I had checked out several things at Best Buy early in the day on Saturday, so that I could prepare myself for taking her shopping on Sunday. I had found about 3-4 computer models that were acceptable (in her price range, decent hard drives, processors, RAM, and so on), and I also found a pair of headphones with which I completely fell in love. After she submitted the work (on my computer, nonetheless), I asked if she'd like to see the headphones. After one quick glance, she snottily said, "Humph, you can show me headphones but no computer models! I see where your priorities are!" and then she left the room.

I was a little more than peeved, at this point, but I kept my cool, and went to sleep. I had awful dreams about her, but at least I didn't say anything to her face that I wanted to--then, I would have had even deeper problems.

Sunday morning came around, and she agreed to go to Best Buy shortly after 4PM. Before she left for work, she said something along the lines of "I want to talk your birthday surprise over with you at Best Buy, I think you'll be happy." I asked her why she could't tell me at home, and she said she didn't want anyone to overhear it. So, for those of you who know how curious I am, you know that all day this killed me--would I get the headphones? Would she make a further mess in my life? Who knows? I was nervous, but excited. Shortly after 4, she got home from work, and (after she changed, had a glass of iced tea, etc etc) we headed over to Best Buy.

On the way into the store, she mentioned that, because I had saved her all sorts of money (oh, yeah, I ordered all my brother's textbooks for school online this weekend--with my half.com/credit card, and had them shipped, saving around $200 compared to what she'd pay at his school), she decided she could go ahead and get me the headphones. She had originally wanted to spend about $100 on me, and then when I saved her $200, she realized she could probably spend $300 on me. Well isn't that nice! I was ecstatic.

We first stopped to look at the headphones ("Oh wow, all I hear is bass!") and she was sort of impressed, though still stressed about the $300 price tag. Then, I led her back to the computers. I showed her what I had it "narrowed down" to, and then I proceeded to talk a bit about each one, in terms that she (hopefully) could understand. I even had another customer (actually 2-3) asking me about computers, having me compare them, and giving them my opinion on different models. I guess I sounded like I knew what I was talking about (ha! No really, I do know a little bit about computers...). My mom was happy with her choice, and we made the purchases. While checking out our items, the salesman talked up the headphones I had picked out. He said that he had a pair, and loved them, and gave me a few "start up" tips and so on. I appreciated his advice; however, my mom had already told me that I'd have to wait until my birthday to get them. Actually, she wants to have a "party" in the suburbs the weekend following my birthday, and I'd have to wait until that time (or so I assumed, as I won't be traveling out there before that time). So, I politely thanked the man, and told him that I'd definitely take his advice--in four weeks, after I obtained the headphones. He looked at me strangely. I explained that they were a birthday present. He pretended to understand, and wished me the best.

On the way home, things took a turn for the worse. My mom started berating me for how ungrateful I am. "You have everything you want, and you can't even wait a few weeks so that I have something to wrap for your birthday? You think you should have this now? What have you done to deserve this?" I choked back the angry tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

Well, let's see, Mommy dearest. This weekend I:
-made a trip to the suburbs in rush-hour traffic, because it fit YOUR schedule.
-ordered $240 worth of textbooks, without you pre-paying me, and saved you about $200 in the process.
-cleaned my turtle's tank, bought new litter, and rearranged things so that he doesn't smell (something my parents promised to do when I moved out...).
-wrote an entire assignment that I will NOT get credit for, and helped you submit it minutes before the deadline.
-let you use my computer, so that you'd even get the stupid assignment submitted on time.
-sewed your son's shoes back together, so he can continue wearing them (they've only been broke for three months now...).
-looked through over 20 laptop models, and did a price/quality analysis, so that you could get the best deal for the money you were willing to spend.
-spent 2+ hours downloading and installing everything you needed on your computer, and even tried to provide over the phone support once I left/was on my way home.
-did NOT ask you once for money for food, pet supplies, or anything.

And I don't deserve anything? Do you know that the entire weekend, she didn't even thank me for my help, not once?! She did call me ungrateful about 20 times though, because I wanted to take my birthday present home three weeks early. Because in those three (four) weeks, I'll actually have a long commute to work, and one of my earbuds blew out this week; travelling on the el without headphones is pretty much hell, especially the 1.25 hours it takes me to get to work (and back). Basically, by the time I get my birthday present, it'll be time for school to start, and (though I'll still use them a lot!) I won't get a "marathon" listening session like I would if I were to take them on the el. I tried to point this out, but apparently this made me even more ungrateful.

It's like I can't win with the woman. All I did this weekend is give--give to her, give to my dad, give to my brother--and she couldn't even do one favor in return for me! Once I left with my dad to come back to my house, she started talking about me behind my back, to my brother. She was definitely talking smack, and Doug would not have it! (Man, I love that kid. He truly has my back). She started in on how ungrateful I was for "everything", and my brother wouldn't have it! He looked her in the eye, and said, "She worked for you all weekend, she doesn't have her birthday present yet, and she's not 21, what exactly should she be grateful for right now?" and he's absolutely right! My mom then turned and yelled at him, but he stood his ground and backed me up across the board.

So now let me ask, who's the ungrateful one? Yes, I know my mom has it hard, I know that she thinks her life sucks...but if she'd look past the end of her nose she might be able to see that she's making the rest of us miserable!

I know I take advantage of people sometimes (I think we all do), but I try to always keep myself in check a bit (quite a bit) better than that. I guess now I wait for the "birthday faerie" to decide to bring me my present...

"At least you have something to look forward to"...you ungrateful bitch.

Goodbye, Goodnight

I just got home from a goodbye/going away party.

I know, I know, I should be "used to" friends moving away, with college and everything, but I can honestly say that this person moving away is really getting to me.

I'm actually losing two really important people in the next few weeks. Joel, a tutor at Family Matters, is moving to the east coast on Monday. And, my coworker/boss/friend Jenn is moving to West Virginia mid-August. I'm sure I'll blog again closer to when Jenn leaves...so tonight I'm going to focus on Joel.

Joel is the tutor I have always wanted. Haha, that sounds strange, I know, but I don't think I could sincerely ask for a better tutor than Joel.

I remember the first time I ever met Joel--he seemed different: nervous, intimidated, but eager to help at the same time. I met him quickly, and threw him into a room with his student. Joel had a particularly hard role to fill-he was taking the place of a tutor who had to leave suddenly. Joel was definitely up to the task, though I had my doubts at first. He checked in with me several times without his tutoring session--I was as encouraging as possible. After a few sessions, he and his student started to bond a bit more (I mean, as much as a 30something year old male tutor can bond with a 12-13 year old teen boy).

Both Joel and his student appear quiet to the outsider. They seem shy, maybe, or just...different. Looking back, I don't think we've paired a pair (haha English, I hate you!) better than Joel and his student. They were both procrastinators that realized the value in doing hard work to get yourself somewhere in life. Joel could follow a lesson plan to a tee, but he also knew how improvise when needed. Joel was also usually the first tutor to submit comments and recommendations to me for the following week's planning. Joel stayed on task, and on schedule. He let me know weeks ahead of time if he had to miss a tutoring session, and would reschedule on another night (convenient for both him and his student). Joel grew a lot as a tutor, and a person, during his time at Family Matters. When he saw how tight-knit a community we had the opportunity to be, he went out of his way to re-organize "Morseland nights" to try to build relationships between tutors. I can truly say that some of the best nights I've had have been spent with the Family Matters crew: Me, Joel, Jenn, Gretchen, Brad, (and later) Christian and Bridget.

Being at Family Matters, and with this crew especially, makes me feel at home. Even this summer, we had a great time playing frisbee (despite the fact that the first time we played, my hand turned black and blue and swelled up like a mofo! Excuse my French...), going out for food (and drinks), and tonight, at Joel's going away party. Tonight, I hadn't seen Gretchen, Christian, Bridget, and Joel in a long time, but we caught up quickly and enjoyed hours of conversation (and food and drinks...see the pattern here...hah). Gretchen and Bridget both gave me a big hug (Lana! How are you! We've missed you!) and Christian and Joel gave me the one armed "hey what's up" squeeze. It was so good to see them... I've spent most of my summer working, or waiting for people to get back to me on hanging out... and I guess I forgot how much I missed spending time to them, and how much it means to me to have such a cool group of people around. They even asked about the guy I was dating the last time we saw each other...which was a really nice touch, one that I appreciated greatly. It's one thing to ask about me--they know me--but to remember to ask about someone they've only met a time or two--well, it shows how much they truly care.

Wow, amazing how I went from singing Joel's praises to singing the crew's praises. I think that's mostly because I see us as a unit--a piece of which is moving away bright and early Monday morning.

I'm still sad--I don't know if I'll ever see Joel again. Isn't that crazy? We don't think about this too often, but "each time" you see someone could be your last. I didn't think that the last time I saw my poppy (Father's Day) would be the last...and alas, it was. I don't know which is better--not knowing, like with Poppy, or knowing--like with Joel. I can't guarantee I'll ever see him again, and I can't guarantee I won't, either. I do know that I'll always hold him in high esteem; a person like Joel is not easily forgotten.

The song that comes to mind most when I think about people leaving (especially people that have significantly impacted my life) is this one: here, "For Good" from Wicked.

"It well may be that we may never meet again, in this lifetime, so let me say before we part. So much of me is made from what I've learned from you. You'll be with me, like a handprint on my heart. And now whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine, by being my friend."

Goodnight, and goodbye, Joel. You've been a true friend, an amazing tutor, and an excellent role model. May you encounter only the best on the east coast.

failure.

For those of you who know me, and know me well, you'll know that I hate failure with a passion. I use the word "hate" sparingly, and I can honestly say that failure is one of the things that truly boils my blood. Due to this fact, I avoid failure at all costs, sometimes pushing myself beyond reasonable means to achieve success. Some call it crazy; I call it driven. At any rate, knowing and recalling that piece of information about me will help you understand this post all the better.

Saturday morning rolled around all too early, and I awoke to the 'ding' of my phone going off. I had received a text message. "Woo!" I thought to myself, "maybe someone's asking if I'm free today! If so, the answer is yes!" I half begrudgingly, half excitedly rolled over to grab my phone off the nightstand. I opened up the text message and read: "Laptop has hardware error! Crap!" The message was from my mother. At this point, I was a little peeved. She hadn't texted me in days, much less called to check in on me. And then, she wakes me up on Saturday morning, before my alarm, with a problem? Ugh. Trying to lighten the mood, I sent her a message back saying "What you talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

Not minutes later, I had a response back that read: "Call me on house phone!" Yes, ma'am? I'm sorry, I don't take orders pre-wake up on Saturdays! I slowly returned her message, asking for a minute to wake up before I called. I quickly got up, used the bathroom, and grabbed a glass of water. I headed back to my room, where the temperature is much more bearable, and dialed the age-old number. The phone rang once; on the second ring, my mother answered it. "Hellowehaveaproblem" was how I was greeted. I had her talk me through it, and assumed she was getting the "black screen of death" (similar to the blue screen of death).

She described the problem as "a white screen turning into black, with a blob that grows." Now, I'm not sure how you, reader, describe computer problems, but in case you were curious: this is not an effective way to describe a problem. Again, this pointed to black screen of death. I have in my possession a Windows Vista install CD, as well as Microsoft Office 2007. It's not the newest software, but it is what my mom's computer has installed currently.

I looked at my options.

This upcoming week is my mom's last week of school. She needs her computer to finish up her class work; as a college student, I understand this better than anyone. I could a) be a bitch, and say "wow, how unfortunate! That really sucks, and good luck getting your work done. Or, I could pick option b) I could quickly dress, head out to the suburbs (via train), and wipe the computer clean--reinstalling all of the programs and such. I offered her the latter, and she agreed. I could tell she was desperate.

At the time, the following phrase flashed through my mind: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I've never really liked this phrase, and so in my life, I've often substituted it with "Do unto others as you see fit; let everything you do reflect the most you can do." Ok, so it doesn't sound quite as good as the original, but it reflects my views on how I treat others a lot better than the original phrase does.

I boarded the Metra just over an hour later, and by early afternoon I was eating lunch in a south suburb. After lunch, I decided to take a look at the computer. This is what I saw:

Uh oh. Not quite what I had expected. If you remember the description from earlier, the one I had criticized so harshly...well, it fit the bill, that's for sure! Clearly, this was not the typical "Uh oh, Windows broke..." error. I did a double, triple, and then quadruple take. Then, I began what every good computer technician does when he or she is in above his or her head...I started to google.

I found out that nVidia made the video chip residing in the laptop. I also read up on the million dollar suits against nVidia for manufacturing faulty chips! Uh oh, I thought, I might be in over my head. I decided that my next step would be to clean out the fan. Maybe the computer was just overheating, and that's what was causing the faulty monitor. I popped open the back of the computer, and found a load of dust, dirt and lint! Ew! I got out the vacuum (haha!) and my dad helped me vacuum out the computer. This is some of what we pulled out:

I put everything back together, plugged everything in and...voila! Not a thing happened. I sighed deeply. I consulted with a computer-science friend, and he said that my problem was one of two things:

1. The video chip malfunctioned.

2. The monitor malfunctioned.

To test this, I took an external monitor, from the old desktop, and plugged it into the computer. I expected it to do one of two things. Either it would show me Windows starting up (indicating just the monitor on the laptop was bad), or it would show me the same white/black screen (indicating the video chip was bad). Unfortunately, neither of those things happened. Ugh! What the hell was going on? I wondered. The external monitor didn't even seem to pick up a signal from the laptop.

I talked to yet another computer-science friend (how lucky I am to have smart friends!) and he said it was likely the video chip, and nothing could be done.

However, the first friend recommended a process called "tealighting." I thought this sounded sketchy, and it is! Basically, what you do is find the video card/chip in your computer, and then light a tealight candle (the kind that sits in a small metal cup). Then, you put the candle on top of the video card, and let it burn all the way through, until all the wax is melted. This is supposed to reflow the chip and has worked for some people to get the video card to work.

Well, last ditch effort, here it is! I performed a google search (several, actually) to find tear downs of my mom's laptop, and located the video-board. Getting to this item required a complete tear down of the computer...much past what most tutorials recommended. However, I accepted the challenge. Here are a few of the steps I remembered to photograph:

Finally, I found that for which I was looking! Here it is!

Finally! It had taken me nearly two (if not more) hours to tear down the computer, and I was very relieved to finally have the correct piece exposed so I could begin the tealighting process. I found a candle (thank goodness my mother has a ton of them!) and set it up. I told my mom and brother that I felt like I was in church, lighting a candle for the computer, and I should probably say a prayer. I made the sign of the cross backwards, and with my left hand (a sign if irreverence if ever there were one) and everyone laughed. We lit the candle, and then waited. Here's what we were looking at!

I sent the above picture to my friend, who had recommended the tealighting process, and all of a sudden got a frantic instant message back that said "Uhmmm Lana, I think you have it in the wrong place!"

Oh. Shit.

You see, I had completely flubbed up. I successfully located the S-Video board. This is NOT the same thing as the video chip/card, which runs the graphics on your computer. The S-Video board is for the connector cable that can run from your TV to your computer. You know, the one that we've never used? Yep, that one. I tore down an entire computer only to find the wrong thing.

Begrudgingly, I blew out the candle, and asked where exactly the correct video chip would be. I found it here:

Of the three "squares" that you can see in that image, the video card is the one all the way to the right. It was actually right under the fan, this thing:

I had removed this hours before, and it's very easy to access. This was the video card the candle must affect.

How could I be so stupid? I spent hours tearing apart an entire computer, only to find out that the part I was looking for was near the top all along! I have never felt so stupid. I mean, I recognized the fact that I have never taken any formal computer classes, and quite a few people would have probably said "fuck it" and not even attempted to fix it; however, I'm not one of those people. Great, I thought, now even if the tealighting does work, I likely won't be able to get it back together!

I sat in fury while I watched the candle burn. The candle almost represented how I felt. I had started out a strong, solid candle, and working on this computer consumed me (as the fire was consuming the wick and wax of the candle) and I was burning down to the bottom. My solid confidence had melted and liquified, and was in great danger of spilling out at the slightest provocation. I was furious with myself; I had only myself to blame for the error, and took full responsibility for it.

At last, the candle burned out, and I removed it from the video chip. I began the reassembly of the rest of the computer, reconnecting wires and the like, until I had everything placed in nearly the same fashion in which it started. I crossed my fingers the entire time (figuratively, of course--crossing them literally would have made my already impossible job even more impossible!) and hoped for the best.

I had to wait until later on Sunday to put the rest back together, because I needed to go buy thermal paste to go between the video chip (and cpu and the other "square") and the heatsink. I act like I actually know what I'm talking about--I don't. I do know that silver conducts heat, and we wanted to put silver in between those two things so that the heat could successfully be vented out of the computer. Beyond that, I'm clueless.

I think the worst part about this not working is that my mom, and the rest of my family, put their faith in me; I proceeded to let them down. The part that's "even worse" is that I put my faith in myself...and I still failed.

After we went to Radioshack (woo!), I came home, applied the silver paste, and finished up the final touches on getting the computer back together. Surprisingly (sort of), it looked like ... a computer! Ta-daa! I had it all put back together. I turned it on (and breathed a deep sigh of relief that all of the LED lights aligned...) and waited with bated breath.

The "engine" whirred, and the fans came on. The "doot doot doot" sounded aaaaand...the screen turned white.

Then, slowly, the screen faded to black.

I had successfully restored the computer back to the condition in which I found it.

Sigh. Deep sigh. Bite tongue. Don't cry. Blink blink blink. Clench teeth. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Lick lips. Go back to clenching teeth cause here come the tears. Blink blink. Don't look at them or you'll burst into tears. Try ctrl+alt+del and see if it changes anything. It doesn't. You knew it wouldn't. Lick the roof of your mouth. Swallow. They're waiting for you. You have to tell them everything. What do you say? You're the one looking at the screen stupid. They're figuring it out.

"What's going on, Lana? Does it work? It's okay if it doesn't, you tried your best..."

Yeah. My best. But what happens when your best isn't good enough? I tried and I failed. And, because I couldn't fix the computer, now my family is basically computer-less, and they watched me try and fail. My family is not used to seeing me fail--they're used to success, and being able to celebrate me. And, in cases like this, they're used to benefiting from my success.

But that didn't happen.

I looked up to my mom with the most deeply apologetic eyes I could muster. "I'm sorry, Mom. I couldn't...it just didn't... It's not fixed."

"It's ok, Lana. You tried, I saw you try. You didn't give up, when a lot of others would have. And, you saved me a lot of money by looking at this at home rather than having me take it into a shop. I appreciate all of your time and hard work."

Breathe.

I saw Harry Potter 7.2 on Sunday with my brother. One of the lines that I wanted to share here, I can't remember, but another one I can. Dumbledore said this to Harry during Harry's dream sequence/trippy moment. He said something to the effect of "It is our choices, not our abilities, that define us."

Wow. Stop. Take a step back. I finally got what my mom said (and always has said) about "trying your best." It's poorly worded, as it is: trying your best. But, I finally understood that making the choice to try is what defines you, not the ability to succeed in whatever you decide to do.

Talk about being hit with a ton of bricks.

All my life I've depended on success in carrying out my decisions. I pride myself on being decisive, knowing what I want, and knowing how to succeed. I do my best for both others and myself. And just then, for a quick moment, with this computer in front of me and my family encircling me, I realized that making the choice to help meant far more to them than any functional computer I could have given them.

This is what I learned this weekend. I hope I can keep this thought alive in the back of my mind in the future. :) I guess sometimes it is true, what "they" say: you learn the most from your failure.

Peace, until next time.