There is a guy who is using Scandinavia as an example of how gay marriages are destroying heterosexual marriages:
http://www.weeklystandard.com/Content/Public/Articles/000/000/003/660zypwj.asp
It's a very interesting article, considering that gay marriage doesn't exist in Scandinavia. Look at what this other guy has to say about it:
http://www.law.ucla.edu/williamsproj/issues/perverted.html
Saturday, November 19, 2005
When and Today
I'm not taking very good care of my blog. My excuse is that most of the time i run around like a headless chicken (i always use the same expression to talk about it; my grandma told me once a story about a headless chicken; no, my grandma wasn't so weird, and the headless chicken did exist, and it ran around; it was a funny story, except for the chicken, although since it didn't have a head anymore, it could no longer distinguish between what was funny and what was not). I suppose that i could organize my time better in order to write more, but that would require that i dreg more passion from somewhere and pour into the making of this blog, and passion is hard to come by these days. Shortness of supply and demand and all that.
So, instead of actually writing for the blog, i'll just paste my latest school magazine article. The main topic this issue is sexuality and, although i'm part of both the mag activity and the gay-straight alliance, i can swear i didn't have anything to do with picking this subject. It nags me to think, however, that some people will think so. It nags me even more that i still care.
Of course, everybody knows that we queers are proselitizers and want to turn everybody into copies of ourselves.
Anyways, here is what i wrote:
WHEN AND TODAY
WHEN i started to feel sexually attracted towards other people, i was disgusted with myself. The problem was, i was finding some guys attractive, sexually appealing, but nothing like that happened to me with any girl. I mean, i thought some girls were indeed pretty, and i had friends who were themselves girls, but i wasn't drawn to them in that way. I concluded something had to be wrong with me: it was obvious from everything I saw and experienced around myself. For instance: the worst insults people threw at each other (and sometimes at me) were basically words that implied the existence of such feelings of same-sex attraction on the "insultee". Maricón is the main such word in Spanish, the equivalent of the English faggot. The occasional maricones in movies and on TV were silly, vain, destructive men, always whimpering or being made fun of. At other times they would try to take sexual advantage of children, or they would appear in the news as diseased, dying of AIDS, cross-dressing or clad in strange leather garments and taking drugs. Sometimes they were arrested by the police, and occasionally you would hear about and see images of one such person having been beaten to death. In talk shows they appeared lonely and were repetitively shunned by family and friends. They were unnatural, evil, sick, weak, perverted.
I did not want to be, do or have happen to me any of those things, so i knew i had to change. Problem was, i could not! No matter how hard i tried. And i tried everything i could, for years -- nine of them!
I confessed at church my evil thoughts, and prayed a lot, but i still felt the same things, it could not be helped. Later i made myself date girls, though it did not feel natural to me. On the contrary, this worsened the view i had of myself, for i knew that i was lying to them. I was using them not only to try to "change" myself, but they were also a front that protected me from anyone's suspicions. I was conscious of doing this, and i felt despicable.
The only thing I did not do was talk to my parents because, what would they say? I knew what they thought of maricones already. I did not want to hurt them or, worse yet, lose their love. Besides, what could they do? Pray with me? Send me to a psychiatrist? I had read what Freud had to say about homosexuality (he agreed with everybody else), but how would that cure me? Since all my research on the topic had to be done on the sly, i did not know then what i learnt later: that there are so called re-orientation organizations, which teach homosexual people how to become heterosexual (in practice, what they do is to hammer in the importance of behaving heterosexually; many of their "graduates" have reported, after years of lying to themselves, that the feelings of homosexual attraction do not just go away). I also didn't know that electro-shock therapy had been tried on homosexuals.
If I had come upon any text that mentioned those re-orientation classes, or that claimed the goodness of electro-shock treatment (and there are several such articles on psychiatric magazines of the 50s, 60s, 70s and even the 80s), i would have asked that it all be tried on me.
Now, with several more years to look back upon, i wonder at my good luck. Who would have thought that i'd become an advocate for ignorance? Yet there are occasions in which it is a blessing, after all. In the environment i grew up in, knowledge of the options available to me then would have probably destroyed my life.
- - - - - - o - - - - - -
TODAY my views about sexuality in general and my own in particular are quite different.
I believe that a man can fall in love with another man and that they can create a loving family, raise children and have the support of relatives, friends and the wider community.
I believe that if there is a god, s/he/it would judge us by the depth and truth of all our loves, rather than by the gender of our romantic lover.
I believe that families and friends are actively created and looked after. If someone i love cannot accept me because of my sexuality, it will hurt. But in the long run it will hurt less than knowing i am loved for something i am not.
I believe that sicknesses must be treated, because they stop people from being happy. The sickness that affects me is called "prejudiced society". Fortunately, i believe it has a cure.
I believe that sexuality is about the kind of attraction we feel, not about the sex we have. Thus, i might decide not to act on my feelings of sexual attraction, but my sexuality would still be what it is.
I believe that to repress the acknowledgement of my sexuality could make of me a terribly unhappy and unfulfilled person. Romantic love is one of the fundamental dimensions through which people learn and grow.
I believe that all those movies and TV shows were lying to me, by omission at least. They never showed people like my friends Evan and Michael, who have been living together for 35 years and are two perfectly normal librarians, or David and Miguel, who have adopted a little boy and a little girl named Zev and Summer, or Joe and Mike, who got married in June and are university professors. They did not show my mom, my dad and my brothers, or how their views have changed.
Finally, i believe that a day will come when people will not be judged, shunned, discriminated, killed, beaten or murmured about because of their sexuality. I believe that, until that day, people have to speak up, ask questions, argue, so that it comes sooner rather than later.
So, instead of actually writing for the blog, i'll just paste my latest school magazine article. The main topic this issue is sexuality and, although i'm part of both the mag activity and the gay-straight alliance, i can swear i didn't have anything to do with picking this subject. It nags me to think, however, that some people will think so. It nags me even more that i still care.
Of course, everybody knows that we queers are proselitizers and want to turn everybody into copies of ourselves.
Anyways, here is what i wrote:
WHEN AND TODAY
WHEN i started to feel sexually attracted towards other people, i was disgusted with myself. The problem was, i was finding some guys attractive, sexually appealing, but nothing like that happened to me with any girl. I mean, i thought some girls were indeed pretty, and i had friends who were themselves girls, but i wasn't drawn to them in that way. I concluded something had to be wrong with me: it was obvious from everything I saw and experienced around myself. For instance: the worst insults people threw at each other (and sometimes at me) were basically words that implied the existence of such feelings of same-sex attraction on the "insultee". Maricón is the main such word in Spanish, the equivalent of the English faggot. The occasional maricones in movies and on TV were silly, vain, destructive men, always whimpering or being made fun of. At other times they would try to take sexual advantage of children, or they would appear in the news as diseased, dying of AIDS, cross-dressing or clad in strange leather garments and taking drugs. Sometimes they were arrested by the police, and occasionally you would hear about and see images of one such person having been beaten to death. In talk shows they appeared lonely and were repetitively shunned by family and friends. They were unnatural, evil, sick, weak, perverted.
I did not want to be, do or have happen to me any of those things, so i knew i had to change. Problem was, i could not! No matter how hard i tried. And i tried everything i could, for years -- nine of them!
I confessed at church my evil thoughts, and prayed a lot, but i still felt the same things, it could not be helped. Later i made myself date girls, though it did not feel natural to me. On the contrary, this worsened the view i had of myself, for i knew that i was lying to them. I was using them not only to try to "change" myself, but they were also a front that protected me from anyone's suspicions. I was conscious of doing this, and i felt despicable.
The only thing I did not do was talk to my parents because, what would they say? I knew what they thought of maricones already. I did not want to hurt them or, worse yet, lose their love. Besides, what could they do? Pray with me? Send me to a psychiatrist? I had read what Freud had to say about homosexuality (he agreed with everybody else), but how would that cure me? Since all my research on the topic had to be done on the sly, i did not know then what i learnt later: that there are so called re-orientation organizations, which teach homosexual people how to become heterosexual (in practice, what they do is to hammer in the importance of behaving heterosexually; many of their "graduates" have reported, after years of lying to themselves, that the feelings of homosexual attraction do not just go away). I also didn't know that electro-shock therapy had been tried on homosexuals.
If I had come upon any text that mentioned those re-orientation classes, or that claimed the goodness of electro-shock treatment (and there are several such articles on psychiatric magazines of the 50s, 60s, 70s and even the 80s), i would have asked that it all be tried on me.
Now, with several more years to look back upon, i wonder at my good luck. Who would have thought that i'd become an advocate for ignorance? Yet there are occasions in which it is a blessing, after all. In the environment i grew up in, knowledge of the options available to me then would have probably destroyed my life.
- - - - - - o - - - - - -
TODAY my views about sexuality in general and my own in particular are quite different.
I believe that a man can fall in love with another man and that they can create a loving family, raise children and have the support of relatives, friends and the wider community.
I believe that if there is a god, s/he/it would judge us by the depth and truth of all our loves, rather than by the gender of our romantic lover.
I believe that families and friends are actively created and looked after. If someone i love cannot accept me because of my sexuality, it will hurt. But in the long run it will hurt less than knowing i am loved for something i am not.
I believe that sicknesses must be treated, because they stop people from being happy. The sickness that affects me is called "prejudiced society". Fortunately, i believe it has a cure.
I believe that sexuality is about the kind of attraction we feel, not about the sex we have. Thus, i might decide not to act on my feelings of sexual attraction, but my sexuality would still be what it is.
I believe that to repress the acknowledgement of my sexuality could make of me a terribly unhappy and unfulfilled person. Romantic love is one of the fundamental dimensions through which people learn and grow.
I believe that all those movies and TV shows were lying to me, by omission at least. They never showed people like my friends Evan and Michael, who have been living together for 35 years and are two perfectly normal librarians, or David and Miguel, who have adopted a little boy and a little girl named Zev and Summer, or Joe and Mike, who got married in June and are university professors. They did not show my mom, my dad and my brothers, or how their views have changed.
Finally, i believe that a day will come when people will not be judged, shunned, discriminated, killed, beaten or murmured about because of their sexuality. I believe that, until that day, people have to speak up, ask questions, argue, so that it comes sooner rather than later.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Edinburgh Purr...
Or Edinburgh bra, if one is to be consequent with local pronunciation.
Anyway, the break is coming to an end. Boo-hoo-hoo.
Yesterday i sat for about an hour on Arthur's Seat (an old volcano, smack in the middle of the city! Is this a funky town or what?!?), got my hair blown by the wind and looked about myself, all the way out to the sea, while listening to old Celtic music. Ingredients for a transcendental experience? Perhaps not, but i pondered: does what we see remain somewhere? I mean, things obviously decay, rub away, disappear, but is the experience stored somehow? Can some mind some where some time see and feel what someone felt 10000 years ago?
I like to believe the answer is yes. But i'm not talking about god here, mind you.
Yesterday evening Mariteria and i went to see Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, this super cool play by Tennessee Williams. Clap clap for the actors, people! Brick was anything but, though: more like a bon-bon, actually. Maggie the cat was good, too. They had tough roles to act, particularly for Scottish actors who not only have to get down the complex emotions in the play, but also the Southern drawls of the characters. Sometimes they didn't quite manage the latter, and the Scottish closed vowels spilled everywhere, dragged around...
Connection ending, gotta publish before i loose it.
Anyway, the break is coming to an end. Boo-hoo-hoo.
Yesterday i sat for about an hour on Arthur's Seat (an old volcano, smack in the middle of the city! Is this a funky town or what?!?), got my hair blown by the wind and looked about myself, all the way out to the sea, while listening to old Celtic music. Ingredients for a transcendental experience? Perhaps not, but i pondered: does what we see remain somewhere? I mean, things obviously decay, rub away, disappear, but is the experience stored somehow? Can some mind some where some time see and feel what someone felt 10000 years ago?
I like to believe the answer is yes. But i'm not talking about god here, mind you.
Yesterday evening Mariteria and i went to see Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, this super cool play by Tennessee Williams. Clap clap for the actors, people! Brick was anything but, though: more like a bon-bon, actually. Maggie the cat was good, too. They had tough roles to act, particularly for Scottish actors who not only have to get down the complex emotions in the play, but also the Southern drawls of the characters. Sometimes they didn't quite manage the latter, and the Scottish closed vowels spilled everywhere, dragged around...
Connection ending, gotta publish before i loose it.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
London Schmondon
Nah, not Schmondon. I actually like this city, more than i like others, in fact. Yesterday i ate about half a kilo of sashimi (should put a lid on my cravings for a while), went to Gay's The Word (great book store, near Russell Sq.) and then walked in Chinatown and Leicester Square. Love looking at people. Everyone's inside their little bubble, which collide or caress or simply slide past each other. A map of these interactions would probably look like a picture of a cauldron bubbling... or no: more like an explosion at a soap factory and the subsequent mess when firemen come to put out the fire. Hah!
I'm all random today. Been thinking of attempting to get a job in Svalbard...
Anyway, got only 6 minutes left in this connection. Gotta check my mail.
I'm all random today. Been thinking of attempting to get a job in Svalbard...
Anyway, got only 6 minutes left in this connection. Gotta check my mail.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Haven't written in a while... Will try to start again
Check this one out:
http://slmetro.com/2004/4/local.shtml
What else could one ask for?
http://slmetro.com/2004/4/local.shtml
What else could one ask for?
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Possibilities
If i do leave, and if i were to think about what i'd want to do afterwards without limitations...
I'd like to go to Tromsø and learn norwegian there, for a year, in order to be able to finally integrate myself in this society. After that i might go to Bergen and get some kind of job -i don't care what- while studying physics & chemistry. Then perhaps, after two years, i could go to university and study medicine in there. With luck, by the time i hit 40, i could be a medical doctor and then decide what to do with that. Aerospatial medicine doesn't sound like a bad idea... I would also like to adopt a kid, become a father... I don't know if i'm made for romantic life, so i may never have a partner, but i know i can be a good father.
Another possibility is to continue in education... Wait for a few years and go work at the college in Devin, as a teacher there. Xaviera will retire in a few years and i think i'd like to teach in that place. But somehow that doesn't sound that attractive anymore.
Activism and grassroots movements are another area that does indeed sound very interesting. I see a need for that, in Argentina... But i don't know if i could live there.
Above all, i want my life to have meaning for others, be it my family or a community i may belong to. It's surprising, but never before had i felt so keenly, so certainly, this reality: that a life is meaningless unless you can see it its context, where it's lived: among other lives.
I'd like to go to Tromsø and learn norwegian there, for a year, in order to be able to finally integrate myself in this society. After that i might go to Bergen and get some kind of job -i don't care what- while studying physics & chemistry. Then perhaps, after two years, i could go to university and study medicine in there. With luck, by the time i hit 40, i could be a medical doctor and then decide what to do with that. Aerospatial medicine doesn't sound like a bad idea... I would also like to adopt a kid, become a father... I don't know if i'm made for romantic life, so i may never have a partner, but i know i can be a good father.
Another possibility is to continue in education... Wait for a few years and go work at the college in Devin, as a teacher there. Xaviera will retire in a few years and i think i'd like to teach in that place. But somehow that doesn't sound that attractive anymore.
Activism and grassroots movements are another area that does indeed sound very interesting. I see a need for that, in Argentina... But i don't know if i could live there.
Above all, i want my life to have meaning for others, be it my family or a community i may belong to. It's surprising, but never before had i felt so keenly, so certainly, this reality: that a life is meaningless unless you can see it its context, where it's lived: among other lives.
Evaluating
I haven't written here in a while. Guess haven't had much to say... Which says a lot about my everyday life, i suppose. I'm finding it harder and harder to do this job well. I used to believe that, in spite of all the imperfections of the system, the "education" we give these kids was largely positive, but now that conviction is crumbling, bit by bit. That in itself can't be good for the students: a teacher who doesn't believe in what he's doing can't be a good teacher.
I've had my misgivings about the academic side of the program (the international baccalaureate) for a while now. Even though it does attempt to instill critical thinking, it does so in a formulaic, limiting fashion; it presents certain modes and structures of expression as more adequate than others, and i believe that is precisely one of the problems with human relations: we are taught to think that someone's ideas are better than those of others because of their wrapper. And people who can't provide the right wrapper are seen as less valuable -at best- or outright inferior.
But now i've been losing faith about the validity of the rest of the program we provide. Us adults here cannot deal constructively with each other. Most everyone is entrenched in their own little position, and we judge and attack each other. We are not a good example for our students. There's no harmony.
I'm probably being too negative right now. I don't know, and i don't have the energy to lift myself from that at this moment. It's US who have to change. Or leave, as the case may be.
I've had my misgivings about the academic side of the program (the international baccalaureate) for a while now. Even though it does attempt to instill critical thinking, it does so in a formulaic, limiting fashion; it presents certain modes and structures of expression as more adequate than others, and i believe that is precisely one of the problems with human relations: we are taught to think that someone's ideas are better than those of others because of their wrapper. And people who can't provide the right wrapper are seen as less valuable -at best- or outright inferior.
But now i've been losing faith about the validity of the rest of the program we provide. Us adults here cannot deal constructively with each other. Most everyone is entrenched in their own little position, and we judge and attack each other. We are not a good example for our students. There's no harmony.
I'm probably being too negative right now. I don't know, and i don't have the energy to lift myself from that at this moment. It's US who have to change. Or leave, as the case may be.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Our lady of the assassins
Just saw this movie. Waldemar asked me to buy it a few weeks ago, and finally yesterday it arrived. So i invited a few students to watch it with me tonight. It's a story of life in Medellín, Colombia. Very bleak reality. Most of all, what Waldemar said once the movie was over: "yes, that's what it's like where i live".
I have to get my ass off chairs...
I have to get my ass off chairs...
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
It's official
I'm 31 years old.
In one and a half hours i discussed society and community and rights and legal systems and laws of behavior with Amel. Then i opened at random a poem book by Mario Benedetti, and he says that cumpleaños are not important, but cumpledías we should have and live. Cumplehoras and cumpleinstantes, i think, which is what i lived tonight. Maraca came as i was putting the book down and told me about a friend of hers threatening suicide. Then my mom called, and then a group of 25 latino students sang las mañanitas in front of my window... They threw snowballs at me, and i hugged them all and then they tried to put me in the shower. Then Harold came and tried to call his mom in Colombia, and we've been talking now about maturity and growing up and being yourself.
An now i'm calling my mom back again.
In one and a half hours i discussed society and community and rights and legal systems and laws of behavior with Amel. Then i opened at random a poem book by Mario Benedetti, and he says that cumpleaños are not important, but cumpledías we should have and live. Cumplehoras and cumpleinstantes, i think, which is what i lived tonight. Maraca came as i was putting the book down and told me about a friend of hers threatening suicide. Then my mom called, and then a group of 25 latino students sang las mañanitas in front of my window... They threw snowballs at me, and i hugged them all and then they tried to put me in the shower. Then Harold came and tried to call his mom in Colombia, and we've been talking now about maturity and growing up and being yourself.
An now i'm calling my mom back again.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Happy Birthday to me!
So, i turn 31 tomorrow.
Until 3 or 4 years ago, or even more recently, i used to say i didn't feel any different from when i was 16 or 17.
I have mostly lost touch with that guy now, though. In some respects i'm glad of that: he was very insecure. He never spoke his mind, even though things appeared very clear to him at times.
That clarity is what i miss most of him. Now i say more of myself, but i feel like speaking itself is a lie.
Perhaps it is wise not to speak much, and the problem with him was that he was silent for the wrong reasons, meaning fear of what others would think of him. I must admit that, though to a lesser degree, i still feel that fear...
Until 3 or 4 years ago, or even more recently, i used to say i didn't feel any different from when i was 16 or 17.
I have mostly lost touch with that guy now, though. In some respects i'm glad of that: he was very insecure. He never spoke his mind, even though things appeared very clear to him at times.
That clarity is what i miss most of him. Now i say more of myself, but i feel like speaking itself is a lie.
Perhaps it is wise not to speak much, and the problem with him was that he was silent for the wrong reasons, meaning fear of what others would think of him. I must admit that, though to a lesser degree, i still feel that fear...
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Confessions
Mariteria came back from Rotterdam today, and i'm supposed to have dinner with her in 20 minutes. I'm looking forward to seeing her again. I've missed her, even if it was just a week and when together disagree on many things (fortunately we're both very vocal about it; that saves our friendship, i think). Everybody gets on my nerves, sometimes, and i have to fight with myself to be in the company of other people. The only one that doesn't irritate me is Mishqi, but she's a cat, and though idiosyncratic and willfull, i know she takes me as i am. Only with Eddy did i ever have such a relationship, and only for a while.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Little poem for my bereaved blog
Just letting you know
that i haven't forgotten to blog,
blog.
Still watching with my little eye
but have lost some of my sight.
Am blind.
Or i feel nearly so
'cause i've hit a slump,
bob.
that i haven't forgotten to blog,
blog.
Still watching with my little eye
but have lost some of my sight.
Am blind.
Or i feel nearly so
'cause i've hit a slump,
bob.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Julio's coming to visit!!!
Julio's girlfriend broke up with him and he's coming to visit! I'm definitely sorry that this has happened to him, but i'm very happy that he'll be spending a few days with me, too. He's been a very close friend since highschool, and though i did have a crush on him back then, now he's like a crazy younger brother to me...
To tell the truth, i don't know why i love him so much. In at least one way i can think of, we're very similar: we both stumble through life, and don't seem to be able to keep any romantic relationship for long. He's been seriously involved with two women who craved the love he didn't feel for them, until they finally left him... and crushed him in the process. Him or his ego? Whatever the case, it hits hard. The same happened to me with Dwayne, and i still can't tell whether i was really in love with him or whether i got obsessed with him when i saw he didn't love me. After all, i cheated on Dwayne repeatedly, at least at the beginning, in the same way that Julio cheated on his girlfriends.
Also, i don't know how much of an ethical person Julio is. I suppose cheating and lying to one's couple are not good signs, and that doesn't bode well for me, either. But well, i haven't had anyone to cheat on for over 4 years now. Blah.
Julio is also a lawyer, and i don't think he is the kind who asks himself any ethical questions before getting involved in a case. Still, i know he is loyal to his friends... Or hope he is.
Anyways, i suppose i love him for the history we share, because he was the first person i told about my sexuality, because he didn't recoil from me... At least not for long. I love his liveliness, too.
To tell the truth, i don't know why i love him so much. In at least one way i can think of, we're very similar: we both stumble through life, and don't seem to be able to keep any romantic relationship for long. He's been seriously involved with two women who craved the love he didn't feel for them, until they finally left him... and crushed him in the process. Him or his ego? Whatever the case, it hits hard. The same happened to me with Dwayne, and i still can't tell whether i was really in love with him or whether i got obsessed with him when i saw he didn't love me. After all, i cheated on Dwayne repeatedly, at least at the beginning, in the same way that Julio cheated on his girlfriends.
Also, i don't know how much of an ethical person Julio is. I suppose cheating and lying to one's couple are not good signs, and that doesn't bode well for me, either. But well, i haven't had anyone to cheat on for over 4 years now. Blah.
Julio is also a lawyer, and i don't think he is the kind who asks himself any ethical questions before getting involved in a case. Still, i know he is loyal to his friends... Or hope he is.
Anyways, i suppose i love him for the history we share, because he was the first person i told about my sexuality, because he didn't recoil from me... At least not for long. I love his liveliness, too.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Electronic dictionaries
Once upon a time, a teeny weeny girl was using an electronic dictionary.
I could hear the beep beep of it from downstairs; she had to describe an image and was looking up the words she didn't know. I suppose she had forgotten this was not allowed and, unfortunately, since she was keeping the dictionary in her pocket by the time i entered the room, i wasn't able to say anything. I could see it bulging under the fabric, but since there was probably no bad intention, to ask her to turn her pockets out could have been extremely discorteous and interpreted as lack of trust in her, couldn't it?
Anyways, she wrote a description and read it verbatim. Dear me! I'd not noticed she was doing that! And, unfortunately for her, she had not heard me repeatedly saying in class that that is not allowed, either. So now it turns out i'll have to ask her to do her exam again, tomorrow. Poor thing!
I mean, it'll be another 40 minutes of my time, but how much worse it must be for her! I know how stressful these exams can be for students. I'll apologize to her for the inconvenience; i should have noticed she was reading the text she had written word for word, but was looking at the image myself. I must tell her i didn't realize it till later tonight, when i compared her notes with the recording and noticed they were identical.
Poor, poor baby!
I could hear the beep beep of it from downstairs; she had to describe an image and was looking up the words she didn't know. I suppose she had forgotten this was not allowed and, unfortunately, since she was keeping the dictionary in her pocket by the time i entered the room, i wasn't able to say anything. I could see it bulging under the fabric, but since there was probably no bad intention, to ask her to turn her pockets out could have been extremely discorteous and interpreted as lack of trust in her, couldn't it?
Anyways, she wrote a description and read it verbatim. Dear me! I'd not noticed she was doing that! And, unfortunately for her, she had not heard me repeatedly saying in class that that is not allowed, either. So now it turns out i'll have to ask her to do her exam again, tomorrow. Poor thing!
I mean, it'll be another 40 minutes of my time, but how much worse it must be for her! I know how stressful these exams can be for students. I'll apologize to her for the inconvenience; i should have noticed she was reading the text she had written word for word, but was looking at the image myself. I must tell her i didn't realize it till later tonight, when i compared her notes with the recording and noticed they were identical.
Poor, poor baby!
Thursday, February 10, 2005
More yaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!
Oral exams just began and i was already exhausted before they did; Martina tells me Antonio still hasn't returned the school key he shouldn't have (the guy lied to me about it); Pondo's lies about where he was when he missed classes still go unchallenged...
On the up side, i had wonderful classes today: great discussion with Lit. students, and the kids that are learning spanish really seem to be starting to speak, even those that had me scared before.
Also, it hailed today, and i had to shake my head when i went into my office this morning, so that little balls of ice flew in all directions. I never get to do this.
Still, my head is heavy and my eyelids want to crumble, disintegrate and leave no archaelogical trace. Got a meeting and more orals this afternoon, plus I've promised Mariteria to watch The Motorcycle Diaries tonight (which i really do want to do, but i'm oh-so-dead; i hope i don't fall asleep on her, again).
I miss Eddy. Gotta get in touch with him somehow.
On the up side, i had wonderful classes today: great discussion with Lit. students, and the kids that are learning spanish really seem to be starting to speak, even those that had me scared before.
Also, it hailed today, and i had to shake my head when i went into my office this morning, so that little balls of ice flew in all directions. I never get to do this.
Still, my head is heavy and my eyelids want to crumble, disintegrate and leave no archaelogical trace. Got a meeting and more orals this afternoon, plus I've promised Mariteria to watch The Motorcycle Diaries tonight (which i really do want to do, but i'm oh-so-dead; i hope i don't fall asleep on her, again).
I miss Eddy. Gotta get in touch with him somehow.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Yaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!
Spoken exams, veiled hostility & discomfort from people about articles i wrote in school magazine, epistemology forms and grades to be handed in, Zulema's suspension/expulsion/?!?!?!?, Pondo's lies, intestinal upset (my intestines, but also among staff, students and staff and students), sicknesses of students, can't quit smoking, world literature essays, thinking of organizing a latino show and a teachers' show, class preparation and homework piling up, pending mail replies, book permits still not requested, argument with Amadeo about cleaning, watching out for people... And am sure i'm forgetting something, which upsets me even more.
Things that i love, things that i hate, things that i hlaotve and things that i lhoavte.
I heard this story when i was a kid; my dad or my uncle Orfeo used to tell it. It had happened to someone when they were kids, or when my grandfather was.
There was this boy that had been picking grapes with his father and other workers. This is very tiring work, so seeing a dog lieing around under the shade of a tree, the boy said: "Dogs have such a wonderful, easy life! I wish i were a dog!".
"Go ahead, then" said his father. "Go lie under the shade, too, if you want."
"For real?" asked the kid.
"Sure! Go ahead" answered the man.
So the boy did lie down and slept in the shade the whole morning. But when lunchtime came and the boy wanted to sit down and eat with the men, the father said, sure enough: "Shoo, dog! Go away!" and tossed him a bone.
So i suppose the moral of the story is that it's not so easy being a dog, either. Although probably a dog wouldn't mind eating bones, whereas the kid most certainly did.
Things that i love, things that i hate, things that i hlaotve and things that i lhoavte.
I heard this story when i was a kid; my dad or my uncle Orfeo used to tell it. It had happened to someone when they were kids, or when my grandfather was.
There was this boy that had been picking grapes with his father and other workers. This is very tiring work, so seeing a dog lieing around under the shade of a tree, the boy said: "Dogs have such a wonderful, easy life! I wish i were a dog!".
"Go ahead, then" said his father. "Go lie under the shade, too, if you want."
"For real?" asked the kid.
"Sure! Go ahead" answered the man.
So the boy did lie down and slept in the shade the whole morning. But when lunchtime came and the boy wanted to sit down and eat with the men, the father said, sure enough: "Shoo, dog! Go away!" and tossed him a bone.
So i suppose the moral of the story is that it's not so easy being a dog, either. Although probably a dog wouldn't mind eating bones, whereas the kid most certainly did.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
How do you judge people?
If you're tempted to say you just don't, don't: you'd be kidding yourself (unless you've lived isolated your whole life and have never had any interaction, direct or indirect, with other beings; in that case, i might, perhaps, believe you).
Here is an example of how someone could judge others.
If you'd allowed someone use of your car, house or computer and, in your absence, that person had broken/lost or allowed to be broken/lost a possession of yours, that person would have two definite courses of action: to tell you what happened when you came back, or not to, in the hope you wouldn't notice or that, if you noticed later, enough time would have passed for you not to be able to point at him/her and demand an explanation.
In the first case, if the possession broken were a very important one to you, you might get angry at that person's carelessness and even tell him/her off for it. You might chide yourself for forgetting how people tend to be more careless instead of more careful with other people's property. You might decide to make sure that person is not left alone with your property again.
In the second case, and if you discovered the broken/missing object a week or two later, you'd feel the same as above, plus immediate despise for that person's lack of willingness to take responsibility for their own action. A few minutes, hours or days later, however, despise would be transformed into pity for this person and their view of the world.
You see, a person who doesn't take responsibility for their actions is unable to fully relate to others. They expect or believe perfection is possible in themselves and in others, and are thus constantly disappointed by both. We all come across disappointment at one time or another in our lives, but these people don't recover from it. They judge everyone, including themselves, inadecuate, and must thus put up appearances every minute of their lives. They feel alone and live in a world where appearance is more important than reality, with the consequence that they can never solve the real problems, neither with themselves, with others, or with their surroundings. This condition can lead to fatal consequences, sometimes not only to themselves, but also to their whole community.
The good news is, many times there's plenty of opportunity to face reality and minimize damage.
The bad news is, many times it's too late already, and damage is irreparable.
But that's precisely the point: it's always like that! If one is unable to deal with that reality... Well, we may be in trouble.
Here is an example of how someone could judge others.
If you'd allowed someone use of your car, house or computer and, in your absence, that person had broken/lost or allowed to be broken/lost a possession of yours, that person would have two definite courses of action: to tell you what happened when you came back, or not to, in the hope you wouldn't notice or that, if you noticed later, enough time would have passed for you not to be able to point at him/her and demand an explanation.
In the first case, if the possession broken were a very important one to you, you might get angry at that person's carelessness and even tell him/her off for it. You might chide yourself for forgetting how people tend to be more careless instead of more careful with other people's property. You might decide to make sure that person is not left alone with your property again.
In the second case, and if you discovered the broken/missing object a week or two later, you'd feel the same as above, plus immediate despise for that person's lack of willingness to take responsibility for their own action. A few minutes, hours or days later, however, despise would be transformed into pity for this person and their view of the world.
You see, a person who doesn't take responsibility for their actions is unable to fully relate to others. They expect or believe perfection is possible in themselves and in others, and are thus constantly disappointed by both. We all come across disappointment at one time or another in our lives, but these people don't recover from it. They judge everyone, including themselves, inadecuate, and must thus put up appearances every minute of their lives. They feel alone and live in a world where appearance is more important than reality, with the consequence that they can never solve the real problems, neither with themselves, with others, or with their surroundings. This condition can lead to fatal consequences, sometimes not only to themselves, but also to their whole community.
The good news is, many times there's plenty of opportunity to face reality and minimize damage.
The bad news is, many times it's too late already, and damage is irreparable.
But that's precisely the point: it's always like that! If one is unable to deal with that reality... Well, we may be in trouble.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Avalon and Armandus
Avalon was a student of ours. This summer he went swimming with his friend Armandus to a mountain lake, and drowned. Armandus couldn't save him.
Six months have passed. Days are short now, gray.
I walk around campus and see a group of students passing by, and wonder if Avalon would be with them.
In my classroom there's no definite seat that would have been his, but he was always to my left. There's a blind spot there, imprecise. Perhaps i would have had to tell him off for missing more classes than was good for him. He would have been involved in too much, come to school with puffy eyes. Awake all night, he wouldn't brush his teeth and his breath would be strong. I'd have had a talk with him by now. Ponte las pilas, porque si no..., i'd have said.
Armandus i do see, from time to time, with his friends. He seems to be loved and appreciated by them. Silent and thoughtful, he is. Squirmy with his studies too, i get the feeling. Though he's not my student, i know he goes to school because he has to, but not much inspires him. HAS TO is the problem. He'll find what he likes when he doesn't HAVE TO, i hope.
I wish i could hug him and comfort him, tell him all it's ok, that i'm sorry this happened to him. That it was not his fault and that he's precious, that it would be terrible if he had been lost, too. That i would like for him to live his days as the delicate, beautiful gift they are.
Of course, i won't approach him. I don't know him at all, and teachers don't go around embracing students, particularly when they've never talked before. It's also unsightly for a man to let any other man try to give comfort. More than that, it's uncomfortable.
Six months have passed. Days are short now, gray.
I walk around campus and see a group of students passing by, and wonder if Avalon would be with them.
In my classroom there's no definite seat that would have been his, but he was always to my left. There's a blind spot there, imprecise. Perhaps i would have had to tell him off for missing more classes than was good for him. He would have been involved in too much, come to school with puffy eyes. Awake all night, he wouldn't brush his teeth and his breath would be strong. I'd have had a talk with him by now. Ponte las pilas, porque si no..., i'd have said.
Armandus i do see, from time to time, with his friends. He seems to be loved and appreciated by them. Silent and thoughtful, he is. Squirmy with his studies too, i get the feeling. Though he's not my student, i know he goes to school because he has to, but not much inspires him. HAS TO is the problem. He'll find what he likes when he doesn't HAVE TO, i hope.
I wish i could hug him and comfort him, tell him all it's ok, that i'm sorry this happened to him. That it was not his fault and that he's precious, that it would be terrible if he had been lost, too. That i would like for him to live his days as the delicate, beautiful gift they are.
Of course, i won't approach him. I don't know him at all, and teachers don't go around embracing students, particularly when they've never talked before. It's also unsightly for a man to let any other man try to give comfort. More than that, it's uncomfortable.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Moral authority
What a contradictory concept!
To expect someone to behave according to certain morals just because you somehow hold a certain authority is totally immoral! If people don't understand the reasoning behind the morals, their behavior is simply authomatic.
Moral authority lies in the agreement of all concerned by those moral rules to live by them. And even in that case, authority might become too smug, as it usually tends to do, unless the group continues to re-examine itself and the issues its morals are concerned with.
To expect someone to behave according to certain morals just because you somehow hold a certain authority is totally immoral! If people don't understand the reasoning behind the morals, their behavior is simply authomatic.
Moral authority lies in the agreement of all concerned by those moral rules to live by them. And even in that case, authority might become too smug, as it usually tends to do, unless the group continues to re-examine itself and the issues its morals are concerned with.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Untempered tempers
Another stiff, stuffed, staff meeting today, and sparks flew, again. Why can't we communicate?
I can't talk about others, but i'm always careful not too say too much or too little. Since i can't make up my mind about what would contribute to any of these conditions, i sometimes try not to say anything. Which means i most often err on the too-little side. But at other times i go for it, and then fear i've said to much, again.
Boris would say that i'm afraid of conflict. Amy would have said the same thing, back in MN. She would have added that, in her opinion, it was that fear which made me become passive-aggressive (which i was not!; when i knew her, Amy had ended all of her friendships because she thought her friends were passive aggressive. No wonder; she was prodding people all the time).
My answer would be that one must know which battles to fight, and how to say things. Not to sound dramatic, but i have other things going on in my life right now. Have a flu right now (yes ladies and gentlemen, that's what the cold turned into), and when i don't i have my students, my friends not to lose touch with, classes, the book, this screen, my social interactions (grueling experience much of the time), movies and books.
Now i've scared myself. It really doesn't sound like i'm fighting any battles. Well, i fought for years just to continue to stay alive (i'm in full-blown drama-queen land now, i know).
(Much beyond)
I can't talk about others, but i'm always careful not too say too much or too little. Since i can't make up my mind about what would contribute to any of these conditions, i sometimes try not to say anything. Which means i most often err on the too-little side. But at other times i go for it, and then fear i've said to much, again.
Boris would say that i'm afraid of conflict. Amy would have said the same thing, back in MN. She would have added that, in her opinion, it was that fear which made me become passive-aggressive (which i was not!; when i knew her, Amy had ended all of her friendships because she thought her friends were passive aggressive. No wonder; she was prodding people all the time).
My answer would be that one must know which battles to fight, and how to say things. Not to sound dramatic, but i have other things going on in my life right now. Have a flu right now (yes ladies and gentlemen, that's what the cold turned into), and when i don't i have my students, my friends not to lose touch with, classes, the book, this screen, my social interactions (grueling experience much of the time), movies and books.
Now i've scared myself. It really doesn't sound like i'm fighting any battles. Well, i fought for years just to continue to stay alive (i'm in full-blown drama-queen land now, i know).
(Much beyond)
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