Shouting: A Poem

I worked on this poem a while back. It was inspired by a graphic novel I read in college called Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. My favorite quote of the book was "I had learned that you should always shout louder than your aggressor." Doesn't that seem to be so true in our political debates recently? After all the battles I have witnessed lately on Facebook and at lunch hour and in the media, I decided to pull the poem out again today. This is my product so far.

Shouting

They are shouting.

Words become bullets; piercing small, uncomprehending ears

or eardrums drowned in sticky wax from years of blind

opposition.

But they are missing their mark.

They are shouting.

Frustration boiled over through your radio or television.

A volcano charring the country's foundation with denial.

Or sputtering lava of blame onto one another.

We scramble and search for a button labeled 

mute, but the volume only gets louder.

The speakers are shaking, 

shaking closer and closer to the table's edge.

They are shouting.

With picket signs of blood red words and bandanas tied 

around their foreheads, they scream words like "equality",

"freedom" or "corruption" over and over until ideas become

war chants that sound like "E-dum-shun" or "Corr-free-ty" but never

"Compromise."

The Case of the Missing Tall Girls

Shout out to my friend Sarah for inspiring this blog post! As she and I were talking about books we were reading last weekend, we discovered that all the main characters in our recent books were tiny girls. If I list all the books I have read this year, any that had a female protagonist made a show of how that protagonist was petite. Why in the world is this? Where are the tall girls?

I think that authors try to give their characters a flaw or disadvantage to overcome in the books they write. Girls like Tris in Divergent or Clary from Mortal Instruments are more impressive because they are tiny and strong. Tiny girls in romances stand in contrast to their big, burly men. For some reason, tiny girls are supposed to be sweet and timid, and then when they are actually fiery, we are supposed to be surprised. We're not. Your body type doesn't define your personality.

This is, unfortunately, not a new issue. I remember a few years ago when Jennifer Lawrence was cast as Katniss in The Hunger Games and some people said she seemed way to tall or too "big-boned" for the role. Although I personally think Lawrence did an amazing job, here are some direct quotes from the book:
- "small in stature"
-"very slender"
-"strong for her size"
- "not very tall"
(-She also had olive skin and black hair, which were my main complaints, but that's another story.)

Suzanne Collins, as well as almost every other author ever, wrote about a small, white girl who could do big things. And, as Sarah said, how can the rest of ever relate to characters when they never look like us? This is a much, much bigger issue that deals with race representation in books, but I'm not going to go into it because it will just rile me up. I try to keep this blog fairly light-hearted. Back to height. Where was I? So, I'm brainstorming now and I can only think of one book ever (That Summer by Sarah Dessen) that had a tall girl as the protagonist. My Goodreads account recently told me I've read over 500 books, so you'd think more might pop up in my head. They not.

Sure, tiny girls might not be able to reach things or see over crowds. But tall girls aren't living a life of luxury. I'm only 5' 9" (not that tall) and I'll tell you it has disadvantages too. How about the fact that I have to bend over awkwardly for most photos? Or that I have to worry about not buying heels too high and looking like a giant? Or that I can't ever find shirts/pants/skirts that are long enough? Or that for some reason guys feel emasculated if you are even an inch taller than them? And people will always assume you play(ed) basketball or volleyball because of your height. We aren't perfect either. So, dammit, someone write a story about us!

The Last Five Guys to Hit On Me

I've been wanting to write this blog for some time because some experiences just need to be captured on paper. Hopefully all names or locations or withheld and all identities hidden. To disprove the common misconceptions from family and friends, I, of course, understood that all the following guys were hitting on me, and I was very polite to all of them (although that might have not been my best choice honestly.)


Guy #1: I saw this man as soon as I walked into Walmart with a list of random items to get. He stood near the door and stared at me as I got my cart. I wondered if he had a question or if he worked there, but he was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I smiled politely and walked into the store, heading to the electronics section in the back. A few minutes later, I felt like I was being watched. Turned around and there he was, trailing me. Still didn't have a shopping cart of anything in his hands. As I meandered around the store, taking forever as I always do, I saw the guy at least 10 more times. Always staring. Never shopping. I was a bit freaked out and wishing I had asked a friend to come with me at this point. He finally came up to me as I was in the allergy medicine aisle. He spoke in broken English and asked me for my phone number. I declined as nicely as possible and decided to check out. He followed me all the way to the check-out line, looking like a sad puppy and as I was bagging my stuff he yelled out "Pleeease." Yep. That happened.

Guy #2: I was working at my job at the baseball field and trying to find something in the storage room. I was climbing up on a counter to look for something (Souvenir cups I believe) and suddenly I could feel somebody right behind me. So close he was like breathing on me. I turned and greeted the guy, who I knew as one of my co-workers.
"Just here to make sure you don't fall," he said.
I thanked him, found my item, and got down. We had a conversation about how cold it was in that room and I said I hoped to do outdoor chores the rest of the day and maybe get a tan.
"Then I will too," he said, "I'd love to sunbathe with you."
I didn't really know how I was supposed to respond to that, especially since I worked with his girlfriend most days in the kitchen. I ignored the guy for the rest of the day, but for weeks after that he would find me in the kitchen regularly (literally right next to his girlfriend) and sing the song Roxanne to me, or ask me what my plans were for the weekend.

Guy #3: Another coworker for the summer. This guy was probably 20 years older than me. We were super friendly with each other and talked every day. He made flirty comments a lot, but never anything inappropriate. So when he added me on Facebook, I gladly accepted. Until suddenly my Facebook messenger was being blown up by crazy, inappropriate messages. I promise, I am not a prude. If you've ever played Cards Against Humanity or any kind of Truth or Dare game with me, you would know I can be wildly inappropriate myself, but my immediate response was to delete and block him. Just not okay.

Guy #4: Walked into a convenience store after work one day to get a pop. The cashier mentioned my work polo and asked about the game I had worked at that night. The guy had gauges in his years and a streak of green in his hair. No judgement--just giving you a picture. As he took my money, we chatted about the fireworks they do on Fridays and how it always scares him. I grabbed my pop and he said something about seeing me around and then proceeded to pull his notebook from underneath the counter that was filled with Nazi signs.

Guy #5: Back at school now. Chilling in the teacher's lounge during my plan period. I'm sitting on the couch writing up lesson plans on my computer. A guy walks in and says hi. I've known him for the whole year I've been there. Usually talking about his kids or his ex-wife or the "good old days" when he played football. I offered him a cookie (I made a batch to share with all the staff that day.) He took one and sat at a nearby table.
"You seem a lot more friendly this year. I see you around all the time. You seemed really shy last year," he said.
I smiled and said I was working on it.
It was silent for several minutes. I went back to work. Then out of nowhere:
"I like your hair. Usually I like long hair, but yours is good for me."
What in the heck do you say to that? "Good for me"? Am I doing my hairstyles based on your preferences now?
I muttered something about how it was easier to take care of at this length.
"Yeah I bet. I kinda like a high-maintenance girl though. So it's my birthday this weekend..."
He proceeded and went on and on for like 10 minutes about what he should do for his birthday and how I should hit him up on Facebook and how we should go out to a bar together and I should pick the one I liked the best...on and on and on.
I did not hit him up on Facebook. In fact, I avoid him most of the time now. Is that rude? Probably. But now you see the guys I'm dealing with. Do you blame me?

So, if anyone reading this has any guy in mind, I really am open to meeting new people. I mean if they aren't 20 years older than me, a stalker, already in a committed relationship, or a neo-Nazi, chances are I'll be super impressed.

Things I Have Said As a Middle School Teacher

People are always talking about the crazy things kids say, but the words that have come out of my mouth since I became a teacher are what are surprising to me. Here are some examples just from this school year. Seriously.

1. "How did you even carry 200 candy bars in here without a bag?....Never mind. No I do not want to buy any. Thank you."

2. "Don't touch his face. That's how pink eye is spread."

3. "Quit stuffing things down your pants."

4.  "Do not get up during reading time unless you are bleeding or vomiting."

5. "If I see that bottle of pop out one more time, I will take it and enjoy it with my lunch."

6. "I don't care if the music is on or not...you are neither deaf nor a robot so wires shouldn't be hanging out of your ears."

7. "Does that eraser really taste good? I'll try to get actual rubber-flavored ones next time."

8. "It's called Choose Your Own Adventure, not Choose Your Own Sound Effects."

9. "Using the restroom is not a team sport."

10. "You aren't gonna catch any Pokemon here. We're too far away from the park. Don't worry though, you'd never beat my level anyway. Hand me your phone."

11. "Unless there's some hidden person helping you read under there I suggest you keep your head above the table."

12. "Stop putting sticky notes on your face. Save it for art class."

13. "Does anyone remember what I was just said?.... (silence).... Yeah, me neither. Let's move on then."

14. "I love your shoes, but could you put them on a less bright setting...yeah the red will work."

7 Things I Learned Working at a Concession Stand

Last summer I worked at Red Lobster and wrote a "what I learned" blog post about that and then I have written one about my full time job as a teacher. This summer, I worked as a cashier and then a stand lead for over 100 baseball games. This is what I learned.

1. People go crazy for a sale. On dollar Thursdays, 3 times as many people would show up just to eat hot dogs for $1. I saw people order 12 hotdogs for just 2 people. I saw groups of people fight over hot dogs when I brought out a fresh batch. The last Thursday I worked, I scooped popcorn into dollar bags non-stop for a whole hour and never had more than one unsold bag sitting on the counter at a time. It's pure madness. Yesterday, it wasn't our usual sale, but we were selling Skittles for half price. That is $2 instead of the ridiculous $4 it starts out as (more on that in #2). People were going crazy over Skittles, usually our least popular item.

2. The prices are ridiculous...and we know it. Selling regular size candy that is probably 75 cents at a convenience store for $4 is just plain wrong. But I blame the crazy customers that fork over that amount of cash more than the managers at the ballpark. If I wasn't working there and getting one free meal per day, I wouldn't be buying much of anything. One scoop of Dip N' Dots for $7? No thanks. One time, a new substitute manager came in and asked me what the best food in the park was. I recommended our barbecue nachos and mentioned they were the best deal too (most food for your money). Later, he came back and told me I was right and they would have to up the price next year. He's right, people will buy it for even more than $9.

3. There is a big difference between French fries and waffle fries. I am not a big fry person myself, but I now know that these things can stir up some big emotions. We changed our type of fries a few times in the year and got big reactions. One guy dumped a whole basket of waffle fries on the ground in front of me and asked for my manager when I told him those were the only kind we had. Evidently they weren't "French fries" as we advertised. Another guy yelled at me because he "came to the game assuming he'd get waffle fries and now he didn't want to be here anymore." No joke.

4. I learned to work with all kinds of people. Not just unhappy customers, but also employees of all kinds. As a stand lead, I knew my job would be completely different every night depending on my crew. Some people handle high stress situations very well. Some have complete meltdowns. Some people are super organized and clean. Others will trash the place before the end of the night. Some need lots and lots of direction and some want to do it on their own (or tell you how to do it). I do think I learned a lot about managing all of these personalities and hopefully this will help me in ventures later in my life.

5. We throw out a lot of food. It was super unfortunate. My job as a lead was to keep an eye on inventory and make sure there wasn't too much waste or that we didn't run out, but sometimes you can't predict these things. There were a few days in which I personally dumped a full pan of hot dogs into the trash. I offered them to everyone I knew first, trust me, but leftover hot dogs aren't the most appealing item.

6. I am so sick of Fairbury hot dogs, Colby Ridge popcorn, nachos, pretzels, and chicken tenders that I think I'll go a year without eating any of them. 

7. I learned to stand up for myself. I'm not very good at telling people when I'm upset or when I need something, but this year I spoke up for myself and was able to get a raise out of the deal.

Did I work way too much this summer? Yes. But I made some money for student loans and learned some lessons along the way.

The Rest is Still Unwritten...

On my way to the first day of school this year, I turned on the radio to find the song "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield. I hadn't heard the song in ages and turned it up and sang it on my way. It seemed like such an appropriate song for a first day, with lyrics like "staring at the blank page before you" and "today is where your book begins." It put me in a good mood.

Strangely enough, I have heard that song now two more times on the radio this week. It is a song from 2004, so this is very unusual, but somehow it keeps reminding me that each new day is unexplored and full of possibilities. In a chapter of my life when a lot of things are changing such as friends growing apart and my parents moving to Arizona and my sister going back to college, it sometimes feels like the future is a bit unknown and scary.

But that is the beauty of it isn't it? Anything can happen. I can start a new job, move any place I want, take up a new hobby, meet a new person, learn something new. These things can happen everyday and as long as I "live [my] life with arms wide open." Some things end and some things begin and you don't know when they will. "The pen's in my hand. Ending unplanned." And that's the way we should live.

On a personal note, for my family and friends that keep up with this blog, I have started teaching my second year at Park Middle School. I switched to teaching exclusively Reading instead of both Reading and English. So far, I love the smaller classes and more individualized attention I can give to my students. I am also attending Arizona State University online for a Master's Degree in English as a Second Language starting this fall. I moved up to a townhouse in the Highlands of Lincoln that my parents bought this summer and Bowser and I love it. I am very excited for this year and all the yet unwritten opportunities.

Love Trumps Hate

“Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.”-John Wesley

This is a sentiment I try to think about every single day. Have I done good for someone today? Am I doing this for my benefit or the good of everyone? How can I make this better? It has been something very important to me for about five years now. As a freshman in college, I had a really hard time. I lived the cliché of "finding myself." I had gone into college as a Journalism major because I thought I was a good writer and should do something that would give me praise and notoriety. You should do things you are good at, right? But I didn't feel good doing it. 

It wasn't until I switched to education and walked into my first classroom that I realized this was where I could personally do the most good for the most people. That felt really good. I make almost all my decisions in my education, my career, and my life based on the mantra above. But that doesn't mean I don't mistakes. I make them all the time.  

Once, when I was a senior in high school I was driving my brother and sister to school like I always did. I was singing along to the radio and Josh reached over and changed the station. And I slapped him. Right across the face. I can make up any excuse I want to, but the truth is I wanted the song I wanted and didn't want to compromise. That side of myself scares me. I think about that moment all the time. I wonder if Josh has always resented me for acting like that with him. And I try to show him and my sister love and generosity every chance I get because of it. I don't always succeed. I talk over them at the dinner table. I get angry and jealous. I lie. I don't call them enough when I'm wrapped up in my own world. 

I was reminded once again of this drive that I want to push me through my whole life as I watched the acceptance speech from Hillary Clinton tonight. She used part of Wesley's quote in her speech. She has dedicated her life to public service and she could easily be retired now, but still want to serve for "as long as ever you can." I try not to be political on social media. It only seems to instigate hate rather than love. And I don't like to bash any candidate because I truly believe there is value in every single person (even Donald Trump.) 

I have to say today, though, that I got very inspired and emotional watching Hillary accept the nomination. Just a few months ago I told my father that I didn't think I would ever see a woman president in my lifetime. It was something every little girl said they would be someday and it was as believable as saying they would become a princess or a superhero. It was a great idea, but it was never going to happen. And now, in a few short months, it just might. Hillary Clinton has made mistakes. Some were big and may have hurt others just like mine. But despite the names she's called every day and despite her falling short of her goals again and again and again, she has kept moving and working and trying. And no matter if she becomes president or not, I hope I can be like her and still working and rising up and loving others enough to help them my entire life. Because love does trump hate.