Are you satisified with living in the 21st Century?
Seriously. Think about it. And then think about it with all of the things that the past thought we would have it the 21st Century. Flying space stations. Inflatable clothes. Flux capacitors powered by plutonium.
Still, we are not left empty-handed. What do we have? Google. And for the most part, it provides the simple, computer-ignorant human being with the newest technology that is appropriate for them. And I am SO THANKFUL. Because of google, I can talk to my family for free from Slovenia (note: A different country than Slovakia). And because of google, I can laugh forever when they call me back and I don't answer. Why? Because google voice transcribes messages. Sometimes they do a fine job... although, usually not. For example, this is the Christmas message that I got from my family:
Boulder Creek. Love, Chris and I, Thank you for the wonderful deals, on the waters. You were just that we've part. Thank you so much. Absolutely makers minutes without you being there we were sure thinking about Jeff to what to do it off. Well, I hope you're enjoying your stay day and thanks again for everything. You really need Christmas. So hope you're having a good 10. Love you, love you, and pie.
Boom boom boom. Love, your super-nova girl.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Once a Princess, Always a Princess
There are days when I really should be focused on all of the things that I have to do, and I should absolutely not be writing blog posts.
There are days when I need to lighten up and focus more on what is actually important.
I'm pretty positive that today is one of the former days, but I'm going to pretend like writing this post is life-changing. If it changes your life, whoever you are, please tell me so I can justify all future entries.
______________________
Let me tell you where I am with school. To be honest, I've had a bit of a rough time lately. Some of the complications are derived by the fact that my job is a bit nebulous still- and it doesn't help that the FBI takes every bit of 8 weeks to process criminal record checks...
So I have been making it through the day just doing what I think that I should do. I'm not like the typical Slovene teachers. Obviously. I am an American- I was trained in a totally different system and was raised in the Heartland. I AM different, plus I am young and like to smile... a somewhat-difficult disposition to gain ultimate respect sometimes.
Additionally, there are times when I do not know the where to put the border between how I should act and how I want to act. Don't get the wrong idea- I understand the things that are really unacceptable, however there is a fairly large 'gray' in teaching. And then there is the small but NOT-insignificant fact that I'm teaching some really young kids this year in addition to the older ones. Now, I haven't had much experience babysitting in my adult life and don't really know all that there is to know about 5th graders. I've learned quickly, however, that they really like me. When they see me in the hall, they gasp, sometimes drop their folders, and wave with both hands. ''UČITELJICA!'' they call me. It's adorable. And anything that I tell them is pretty much considered gold. This is the reason that they start each class by chanting 'English, English, ENGLISH!' with fists in the air (hey, we were learning the parts of the body- what a better way than to teach them how to make a fist?). This is also the reason that they do the Michael Scott 'slow' run every time I ask them to slowly line up by the door. However, sometimes they start things with cues that I didn't even mean to give.
Last Friday, we were reading together. The Princess and The Pea. I made a big mistake:
I told them, just to make conversation, that we have this big dance at the end of high school in America, and the school decides that one person should be a queen, and one should be king, and they're crowned. Obviously, I thought that this would impress them, however, I didn't realize that they would change their excited-hallway-yells. Now, whenever I enter a hall for the lower grades, I will hear an excited gasp or a fake trumpet blow. ''Your Majesty!'' they call me. Though this is hilarious, it's possibly NOT helping some of the more-stressful relationships around.
There are days when I need to lighten up and focus more on what is actually important.
I'm pretty positive that today is one of the former days, but I'm going to pretend like writing this post is life-changing. If it changes your life, whoever you are, please tell me so I can justify all future entries.
______________________
Let me tell you where I am with school. To be honest, I've had a bit of a rough time lately. Some of the complications are derived by the fact that my job is a bit nebulous still- and it doesn't help that the FBI takes every bit of 8 weeks to process criminal record checks...
So I have been making it through the day just doing what I think that I should do. I'm not like the typical Slovene teachers. Obviously. I am an American- I was trained in a totally different system and was raised in the Heartland. I AM different, plus I am young and like to smile... a somewhat-difficult disposition to gain ultimate respect sometimes.
Additionally, there are times when I do not know the where to put the border between how I should act and how I want to act. Don't get the wrong idea- I understand the things that are really unacceptable, however there is a fairly large 'gray' in teaching. And then there is the small but NOT-insignificant fact that I'm teaching some really young kids this year in addition to the older ones. Now, I haven't had much experience babysitting in my adult life and don't really know all that there is to know about 5th graders. I've learned quickly, however, that they really like me. When they see me in the hall, they gasp, sometimes drop their folders, and wave with both hands. ''UČITELJICA!'' they call me. It's adorable. And anything that I tell them is pretty much considered gold. This is the reason that they start each class by chanting 'English, English, ENGLISH!' with fists in the air (hey, we were learning the parts of the body- what a better way than to teach them how to make a fist?). This is also the reason that they do the Michael Scott 'slow' run every time I ask them to slowly line up by the door. However, sometimes they start things with cues that I didn't even mean to give.
Last Friday, we were reading together. The Princess and The Pea. I made a big mistake:
I told them, just to make conversation, that we have this big dance at the end of high school in America, and the school decides that one person should be a queen, and one should be king, and they're crowned. Obviously, I thought that this would impress them, however, I didn't realize that they would change their excited-hallway-yells. Now, whenever I enter a hall for the lower grades, I will hear an excited gasp or a fake trumpet blow. ''Your Majesty!'' they call me. Though this is hilarious, it's possibly NOT helping some of the more-stressful relationships around.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Because I don't think that they're ''ready'' for postering.
I need a creative outlet- itak. In the past, that has taken many forms- in high school, it was theater. Writing and directing plays... being the reject understudy in just about every single play that MHS performed. And, of course, later my creativity took a spin for the better/worse (you decide) when I decided to perform my own comedy act.
The stranger creations of my creativity led to many adventures, a police-call (mum, don't worry, it was all a big misunderstanding), and skills to leave things secretly... like posters, muffins, or Rick Astley music videos.
I can't give up on my creativity here. In fact, it is being called on with even more vigor as I find myself in a place where I am not understood 100% of the time. However, my former methods are often lost. The Rick-roll becomes infinitely less funny when you have to explain who Rick Astley is, why it's funny, and how you aren't trying to imply anything with the song choice (and when Graham is not your victim).
So I've turned to my journal- it's a new one that I bought here. Dark green, gridlined paper. A little piece of elastic to hold my pen. I love it. It's something different than my former journals- it not only holds thoughts, ideas, prayers, reflection, Slovene notes and ticket-stubs, but holds the outbursts of creativity that come when I am sitting in the same class for the 4th hour in a row.
I've been writing a lot more, but not just journal entries- stories about characters that I've met or dream up- often that are completely fictional and hopefully capture something bigger. Some truth that is more real. I promised some kids from Perry that I'd write a book some day, so maybe I'll squeeze that in, somewhere in between teaching kids, playing sports, and tutoring.
Love you all. Miss you like whoa.
The stranger creations of my creativity led to many adventures, a police-call (mum, don't worry, it was all a big misunderstanding), and skills to leave things secretly... like posters, muffins, or Rick Astley music videos.
I can't give up on my creativity here. In fact, it is being called on with even more vigor as I find myself in a place where I am not understood 100% of the time. However, my former methods are often lost. The Rick-roll becomes infinitely less funny when you have to explain who Rick Astley is, why it's funny, and how you aren't trying to imply anything with the song choice (and when Graham is not your victim).
So I've turned to my journal- it's a new one that I bought here. Dark green, gridlined paper. A little piece of elastic to hold my pen. I love it. It's something different than my former journals- it not only holds thoughts, ideas, prayers, reflection, Slovene notes and ticket-stubs, but holds the outbursts of creativity that come when I am sitting in the same class for the 4th hour in a row.
I've been writing a lot more, but not just journal entries- stories about characters that I've met or dream up- often that are completely fictional and hopefully capture something bigger. Some truth that is more real. I promised some kids from Perry that I'd write a book some day, so maybe I'll squeeze that in, somewhere in between teaching kids, playing sports, and tutoring.
Love you all. Miss you like whoa.
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