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Though most of the hotels we'll be staying at will have internet access, I'm taking a break from blogging and the Internet. I'll be updating the MoBlog during our trip, so you can see what we're seeing via my camera phone. I have inserted a preview above this entry for the the album, but you should definitely check out the whole thing by clicking below. Enjoy! |
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When I return to the house, finals will done and I will have finished my first year of college at State. A year ago, I just found this apartment that I lovingly call home now. Nine months I had my first day of school, complete with a hot professor and creepy guys at the MUNI station. Six months ago, I turned 24, edging that much closer to my Big Scary Birthday. Three months ago, I was having the time of my life in Sacramento with Prof C and 22 of my closest PoliSci friends. Everytime I think I've got a handle on my life, I'm surprised by many new and wonderful things that can be experienced. There are so many people I've met in the past nine months, that have become a part of my life in small and large ways. There are people to see on campus and wonder "She/He looks familiar - where I have seen him/her before?" There are those people that I make small talk with before class as we stand outside the classroom. There are my fabulous study buddies who help me keep it all in perspective. There are the professors that I love who make coming to class fun instead of a chore. How is it possible that 9 months ago, I had never seen, heard or even thought about these people like D, R, C, K, Prof R and Prof C? I will miss them this summer as I leave this sometimes foggy, sometimes sunny place, but I'm looking forward to the time when we reconvene to swap stories and start this process all over again. Goodbye to the semester that changed my attitude about college, Spring 2005! quote from "Felicity Was Here" written by J.J. Abrams Jenn posted at 8:20 AM | |
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I'm in the middle of a freak out. Everything is taking longer than I want it to and the more I do, the more I need to do. There just aren't enough hours in the next two days to get it all done and get enough sleep so that I can drive on Saturday. Sigh. Back to work! Jenn posted at 5:36 PM | |
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The city was bathed in pink in my back window as I drove down the hill to school. It was 5:30am and I had only had 3 hours of sleep. I arrived bleary-eyed and a bit touchy to the lobby of the library for an impromptu study session. There was just too much to know about the four countries and I had already started to weed things out. "What about political parties?" "Are you kidding me? Brazil has like 16 alone. I've decided. I'm not going to do it." "Yeah, me either." At 7am, we moved the study session to the classroom where K met up with us and we continued to cram. She reinforced a lot of my own thoughts (the stuff from the review sheet about South Africa wasn't in my notes, etc.) and generally helped me and D with our studying. Notebooks and flash cards were traded around until it was unclear what belonged to whom. Finally at 10 minutes to 8, I just gave up. "There's no way I'm going to learn anything new in the next ten minutes and if I look at this stuff anymore, I'm going to forget what I already know." Turns out we freaked about nothing. There were hardly any South African questions and plenty of Brazil questions. After an hour and fifteen minutes, I was done and I could finally shake out my hand. The TA wished me a great summer and I left the room, feeling lighter than when I walked in. Did I ace it? Probably not, but I definitely did well. I walked to the bookstore where they gave me $15 for my $68 textbook and the guy behind the counter proceeded to get huffy when I sighed. Instead of launching into my tirade about the conspiracy between textbook publishers and campus bookstores, I decided that Mr. Bookstore Employee did not deserve the wrath I had been cultivating since stepping foot on campus four and a half hours earlier. I went back to the building to room 268 where K, D and I started to study for our CA gov't final. The three of us had a good time laughing, joking and defining all the concepts from the study sheet. Finally at 12:30, I announced that I had to go home. My brain was atrophying while I sat and there was no way that I could absorb the discussion about the short essays. I fell onto my couch shortly after 1pm and slept until just a few minutes ago. I'm pretty sure I talked to Anna in the meantime, but that could have been a dream. Three finals down. Two to go. Jenn posted at 8:56 PM | |
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Thanks to the lovely Amanda for making my header look so wonderful! I bow to your wonderfulness! Jenn posted at 11:48 PM | |
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Just in time for me to the leave the city for the summer, I changed the layout of the blog. It's a bit plain right now and I'm still messing with the colors, but I like the soothing blue. Jenn posted at 10:25 PM | |
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That's a little game I like to play when I'm stressed about something. So this time next week - I'll be on the road to St. Louis after spending the day with KB. Rock on! Jenn posted at 8:44 PM | |
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I have awakened from my nap and although I am still tired, I feel better than I did before I took it. I took my American City and Latin America finals today. It's hard to believe that those classes are really over, but I'm not complaining. I got lucky on my American City final because one of the short essays was about Prop 13! While Prof L only did one lecture about it, we've been discussing it in Prof C's class for 15 weeks! We read two books, wrote two papers and had numerous class discussion on campus and in Sacramento about it. I only wish it had been a long essay question. Part of the response asked for our opinion of Prop 13 and I was like, "Let me tell you!" I've got my comparative politics final tomorrow morning at 8am, so I'll be getting up really early tomorrow morning for a cram session beforehand. Yay for me! Jenn posted at 6:37 PM | |
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I have my first final in about two hours. I am exhausted and in desperate need of a nap, so it must be time. Jenn posted at 9:54 AM | |
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Yesterday was gorgeous outside. I wore my CK shorts (which fit again!) and a tank top without a jacket! I did some shopping in Corte Madera and San Mateo and just enjoyed tooling around the Bay Area in the sunshine. I bought a bunch of stuff, none of it that was precisely necessary and yet, all I stuff I just needed. I can't wait until I get a paying job again, so I don't feel quite as guilty when I leave the used bookstore. Today was just as nice outside, I suppose, but I spent it indoors, studying. I've got two finals on Tuesday and a lot to read. Sigh. This time next week, I'll be in Boulder, Colorado - wild, huh? Jenn posted at 12:24 AM | |
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I know I shouldn't be allowed to watch Under the Tuscan Sun anymore since every time I do, it sends me off on an introspection safari. That being said, there is nothing good to watch on television on Friday night and it's on one of my movie channels. There's a scene when they are driving to Cortona in the tourbus and they go through this fabulous field full of sunflowers. It's beautiful in its simplicity and uniqueness. Everytime I see it, it reminds me of my own European adventure ten years ago. Tensions were running high between the two factions of the group having been stuck on the tour bus with two other groups of high school students for several hours. Our driver was a rotund Frenchman named Robard and with him came a small, smelly black toy poodle named Jeudi. We had to stop every couple of hours, whether scheduled or not, so that Jeudi could take a pee break. Given the alternative, we gladly obliged. Just like the movie, we rounded a corner and there they were. Sunflowers in an open field as far as the eye could see. Having been much more occupied with the quiz in Seventeen than the scenic outdoors, our attention was immediately drawn to the smudged windows of the rickety tour bus. Grabbing for our cameras, we knew that we could never get the photos we wanted as the bus sped through the fields. We shouted to Robard, pleading with him to stop the bus. After a few translation attempts, we finally got our wish. Piling off the bus through the back door, we murmered with delight at the sunflowers. Standing next to them, we realized that they were no ordinary flowers, but super ones that grew to be at least 6 foot tall. The large blossoms were supported by thick stalks that waved in the gentle breeze. It was easily 95 degrees outside, but the breeze made the heat tolerable. We took our pictures, mugging for the camera as the rest of the bus's occupants watched from the windows. Just as quickly as we had stopped, the chaperones yelled that it was time to go. We were already running behind thanks to Jeudi's bathroom breaks and there was much of Northern France to see before we lost the light. Groaning, we left the field and clambored onto the bus. My memory of those fields is slightly tainted because when I flopped down in my seat again, I realized that my legs were breaking out in huge bumps all over. Apparently, there was something in that field that didn't like me as much as I liked it. Schmearing some aloe vera on my limbs seemed to temper the itching and we continued on our journey. There are days when I wish that I had spent more time appreciating what I was seeing and less time bitching that Erin was hooking up with DJ and ignoring me. But I remember the sunflower fields and I realize that perhaps I didn't waste my experience as much as I thought. Of course, I would love to revisit those places with my older, more mature perspective - to see them with the eyes with which they are meant to be seen. Until then, I treasure the memories and watch too many movies. Jenn posted at 11:52 PM | |
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Laura's requests: The inside of my closet, side one side two The view of where I live from outside The best looking corner in my favorite room (it's the cleanest!) Kristin's requests: My fridge - outside inside Medicine cabinet Under the kitchen sink bathroom sink Katie's requests: Bookshelf with titles My desk - not cleaned! Jenn posted at 10:29 PM | |
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Today's my half birthday. No shower of flowers this time, though ;) I walked to Borders during my break and picked up the Bad Girl's Guide to the Open Road. I'm *so* not a "bad girl," but it's a fun book anyway. Finals studying has commenced and I'm already starting to feel burned out. That's not good. Off to take pictures. Jenn posted at 10:20 PM | |
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I stood outside Room 246 today with R and CC, chatting for almost an hour today because it seemed we just weren't ready to let go. Today was the last day of California Politics and the ending was rather anticlimatic, trying to squeeze the last four presentations in the time allotted. "So we've learned all there is to know about California politics?" "I guess," I replied. I guess it's a true testament to what a wonderful professor Prof C really is that we all wished we had class next week, even with finals going on. We also all agreed that we're taking his class next semester as well. CC hadn't heard about it, so we explained what we knew. "It's called Representation & Elections." "But what's it about?" "Does it matter?" "Not really." I got that bittersweet feeling in my other classes today as well. Today was the last day of lectures - Friday will just be review. Then it's all finals and then...I leave the state. Perhaps that's what's getting to me. I can never just leave in the here and now - part of me is always ahead of myself. So, when I finish finals, I'll be heading back east of the internship. And when that finishes - I'll be coming back to the first semester of my SENIOR year. I have two semesters left and I will be done with college - for real. That's a bit exciting - and a bit intimidating as well. But that's getting a bit ahead of myself. Tonight, I'm just concentrating on my Cal politics final for our review session tomorrow. Oh, and I'm not going to see that new Star Wars movie. Not going to happen, my friend. Jenn posted at 9:27 PM | |
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I'm almost done reading Girls in Pants and between that and watching Ben get a 95 on his OChem final on Felicity, I'm a little weepy. I just realized that by this time next week, I'll have taken 2 of my 5 finals and be that much closer to finishing this semester. But I'm crying because I'm happy. I started off this semester so timid, so nervous. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had made it through fall semester just fine, but spring semester is always when I fuck it up and my world comes crashing down on me. But I didn't do that this semester. No matter how I feel I did on my presentation in California politics yesterday, I'm going to get great grades this semester. Maybe I won't make Dean's List, but I will have a GPA to be proud of. I feel capable. I may not be working to the fullest part of my potential as determined by me, but I am working. Hard. I have a network of people, acquaintances more or less, that care about me and my success. And I'm successful. Beyond just completion of an academic year without the anxiety and worry that I missed too many classes to make up or I have to ace the final just to pass the class. I'll be heading back to my senior year in great academic standing. I've never had the true college experience - living in a dorm, eating in the caf, doing crazy things with total strangers - but I feel like I'm learning what it's like to be in college every day. I spent my break in the library today, making flash cards of the vocab for comparative politics. I was sitting at a table for two by myself in a room full of students, but so quiet I could hear the ink flowing out of my pen onto the index cards. Math books, chemistry books, iPods and laptops were laid out in front of my fellow comrades as they read and sighed and wrote and tapped the keys. It really felt like college - like television college - the way I'd always imagined college would be like. I'm not afraid anymore. That's not to say that I don't still get scared - I'm probably never going to ride the Shockwave at King's Dominion in the lotus position with my eyes closed - but that intangible thing that I've been so afraid of isn't there anymore. I'm no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can take this experience and move on to the next one without a spector of failure following me. When I moved to California, I was escaping and "living the dream" because I had to - I couldn't tell my parents that I was on academic probation. I don't feel bad that I failed at the entertainment industry, never making it further than gopher. I don't have to put on the happy face after I didn't get into UCLA or even UCI. I can leave this place, this foggy, windy place that I've come to love and do something else fabulous. I never thought I was unhappy until I felt like this. And perhaps, I wasn't unhappy - but I wasn't totally happy either. There was always something looming, something to regret. I got a B instead of an A. I failed because I didn't try. I didn't try because I was scared. But I don't feel that way anymore. I like it. Jenn posted at 7:50 PM | |
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"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." — David E. Bresler Jenn posted at 10:47 AM | |
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The gentle hum of the printer reminds me that I AM DONE with the project proposal and only the reading of Boccaccio stands between me and having all school assignments for the semester completed. So, I would like to take a moment and ask where the hell the semester went? Didn't I just come back from Spring Break? Wasn't it just April like two days ago? How are finals in a week? How is my road trip in two weeks? HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?! I am actually not stressed right now. I have a schedule for studying for finals that is easy enough so that I will actually stick to it for once. I have an appointment to get my car checked and my eyebrows waxed before finals. Anna and I are compiling CDs and other essentials for our road trip and I have maps spread out on my floor ready for hi-liting. Life. Is. Good. Jenn posted at 2:05 AM | |
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I actually tuned into SNL tonight because, as Zach Braff reminded me, Will Ferrell is hosting. I haven't watched in a long time, but since I love Will Ferrell, I figured it would be hysterical. But, nope. Even the "Celebrity Jeopardy" sketch was boring and unfunny. The only cool thing was how well trained the dog playing Minnie is. I mean, she rub that dog all over Will's face and it didn't do anything. Craziness. Jenn posted at 3:27 AM | |
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I seriously should not be let into Barnes&Noble anymore because I cannot get out of there without spending at least $60! I limited myself on what I bought and I still ended up spending way too much!     I got caught up in the women's studies section today and there were so many books I wanted to buy! I never thought I was hardcore enough to call myself a feminist, but the more I read, the more I really think I must be one. Jenn posted at 12:17 AM | |
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Yup, that's right, it's Free Frosty Weekend at Wendy's! This is my last weekend before the weekend before finals and I'm going to do it up right. There will be free frosties, shoe shopping and tanning by the pool. Of course, there will also be report writing, dress clothes packing and studying for finals. But for once, I will have some fun first! Jenn posted at 7:05 PM | |
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Both presentations went off fine, even though I was actually more nervous about the Latin America one than I had thought I would be. I met with my Cal Poli group and we nailed down the powerpoint for Monday. I have been sitting on the couch watching my afternoon line up of syndicated television, feeling lazy and slothful, but not guilty. There are things that need to get done, but I think I'm going to take the night off. I made nachos and I'm drinking apple juice straight from the bottle - oh yeah, it's time to get crazy! Jenn posted at 9:17 PM | |
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I've got my presentations today and I could really use any good vibes and/or prayers you have to spare today. Thanks! Jenn posted at 11:01 AM | |
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I have finished my American City paper, powerpoint and presentation notes. Life is good. I still have to write my Latin America position paper, but it's only two pages, so I'm not worried. Prof C handed out the final review sheet and it looks like a killer. I wasn't nervous about his final, but now I have a teensy bit of anxiety. But perhaps, I was just distracted by his hotness - sorry, inside joke from class today! I guess I should I get back to my paper, so I'll leave you with this:  My calendar is empty! Oh and I haven't forgotten about the meme. I hope to take the pictures tomorrow and Friday for posting. Jenn posted at 12:30 AM | |
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I just saw a commercial for Virginia tourism. Weird. I got my Middle Ages paper turned in last night, so that is done and I am in the process of taking all the books back to the library. I don't know if my back can take it anymore. I've got barebones powerpoint presentations for both my American City paper and Cal Politics presentations done and ready for revision. Last night, I couldn't stop have panic attacks and now I feel like I could take over the world - but I won't. Jenn posted at 6:20 PM | |
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participation positives: |
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I've been alternating between crying, panic attacks and moments of unbelievable calm since last night. I just finished my Middle Ages paper which means it's time for my American City paper. When I wasn't crying or freaking out, I actually had a good day. I really need it to be next week at this time so that all my projects are over and I can just coast through the rest of my classes until finals. Jenn posted at 10:51 PM | |
I got to see Moises Alou hit his 3rd career Grand Slam (with a home run) in the 4th. I watched the Giants completely fall apart as the Nationals scored 7 unanswered runs in the 5th. The Giants rallied back in the 6th to pull ahead by one. Then in the 9th, the pitching staff for the Giants just fell apart. I lost count of how many pitchers they went through, but the Nationals got 4 more runs and the Giants just couldn't pull it together. I got totally sunburned - the photo does not do it justice. I'm glad I wore a tank top under my long-sleeved shirt and I wish I had worn shorts as well. I had just been complaining to my mom that I never got any tans/burns because it just wasn't warm enough to lay out. So now I know the secret - go SBC park for day games ;) Jenn posted at 12:54 AM | |
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My 6th grade homeroom teacher was Mr. Rafalko. He was the first male teacher I encountered in my schooling and I was nervous because I had heard rumors that he was sexist. As with most rumors, they proved to be totally false and I ended up having the best time in his class. He was innovative and enthusiastic about teaching in a way I had never experienced. He would read to us in the afternoon, everything from Hardy Boys to Kurt Vonnegut, spicing up the story with names of our classmates that he would remember for weeks on end. Shane was "the fair-haired man" for months after we finished the story. He taught us how to throw wet paper towels against the wall, but not to leave them there too long because when they harden, it's murder trying to clean them off. We TP'd another teacher's car while she was at Hemlock - part of an ongoing prank war between them. He would play football with the class every day at recess, often extending our recess time so that every had a chance to play. He was always QB and anyone who wanted a chance could be the receiver. It didn't matter if you couldn't run or catch or tackle or really play at all. If you wanted to try, he would encourage you, giving tips and praise when you got it right. And not just with sports - his class is where I learned that I could write fiction. Every day we had to write in our journals on a writing prompt and I filled up two by the end of the year - most people barely filled one. I created serial short stories about a group of renegade turkeys, bent on world domination. He encouraged my creativity, even when he and his beloved Oldsmobile became the targets in the stories. Every day was filled with inside jokes and lots of laughter. In the mornings, we would play Simon Says to wake us up and get us ready to learn. The final activity was always to hold your arms out from your side parallel to the ground. We would have contests to see who would be the last one standing. It was a matter of great pride. Junior year of high school, Shane, Debbie and I found out that he was working at a middle school in the county and decided to pay him a visit. We thanked him for inspiring us in the different ways that he had for each of us. He tooks us around to the office and other classrooms to show off his "favorite former students," clearly beaming with pride. We took pictures in every combination and I think we all had tears in our eyes by the end. In the car ride home, we continued reminiscing about our experiences in his class and we all agreed that he had affected our growing up in a way that no teacher had before or since. Jenn posted at 11:26 PM | |
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Mom and I are off to the Giants game this afternoon, so look for us on TV :) Jenn posted at 2:56 PM | |
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Like Mrs. Smith, this teacher taught me how NOT to be. She replaced the beloved Mrs. Salvi as high school chorus teacher my sophomore year. By senior year, my class was the only group of "Salvi babies" left and she started making some changes. Every year, at the final concert, each senior would have the opportunity of doing a solo of his or her choosing. This year, Mrs. Adcock had decided to change the way we did the concert. It was to be a Broadway review, with a dinner beforehand, similar to Woodson's. During an informational meeting after school, she broke the bombshell: Special Acts would not be reserved for seniors and no senior would be guaranteed a solo. We were furious. Even the underclassmen were confused. After the meeting, I made the mistake of going to her office. Chris and I had been planning a special song with him accompanying me, but it not being Broadway, I had a feeling it wasn't meant to be. Crying, I stood in her office while she condescendingly explained how everything was going to work and that Chris and I could still do our song for my mandatory audition (another story), but there was no chance that I would sing that song and I would have no priority over any underclassmen. Leaving her office, I made my fatal mistake. Crying and angry, I walked down the steps. She called after me and I whipped around, "WHAT?!" Immediately, realizing my mistake, I walked back up to her office, apologizing for yelling, but trying to explain why I was so upset. She cut me off and yelled at me (in front of three other students) for a good five minutes before letting me go. This time I made it to the band hallway before I broke down. Quickly surrounded by my friends and classmates, I recounted the incident. I repeated the scenario when I got home. My mother received a call from Mrs. A that evening, but my mother wasn't quite as sympathetic to poor Mrs. A as Mrs. A probably thought she would be. When I came to school on Monday, I went to my 5th period assignment as an office assistant in my subschool office. The subschool principal stuck his head out and asked to speak with me. Apparently, after I had left, Mrs. A had decided to write me up for insubordination for my outburst - a fact which she had not told my mother about during their hour long phone conversation. Shocked and dismayed, he asked me about what happened. I explained the history and the situation as well as the events before, during and after "the incident." Having gotten to know me all year as I worked in the office and having gotten similar complaints about Mrs. A in the past, he believed my story. All he asked was that I strong consider not dropping Madrigals (as I had thought I would do) because he knew how much it had meant to me and if I felt it necessary, apologizing one more time to Mrs. A should I choose to go back. I went back to class, staying after the first day to once again apologize for yelling. She brudgingly and dismissively accepted my apology, but I knew from then on that I would no longer enjoy that class. I assigned to a group special act with five other girls, I only have three solo lines during the concert. I organized the senior song, something we were allowed to keep as long as we organized it ourselves and rehearsed outside of class. As a form of protest, only my parents were allowed to come and spend money on the show. My last show as a Madrigal and LB Chorus Girl went out with a whimper. For a long time, I held a grudge against this woman for ruining my senior year. I had wanted to succeed in show business so that I could publicly prove her wrong. I've since given up that dream, but the lessons I learned have stayed with me. Jenn posted at 2:59 AM | |
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It was a cloudy, drizzly day when I woke this morning, but it burned off by early afternoon. I picked up Mom at the airport and we hung out at the house until it was time for me to go to campus. She hung out at the library while I had a short meeting with Prof. S. I have now officially declared my polisci minor. Eek! We spent the afternoon mapping out some things for Anna's arrival in a few weeks and then I took a nap. I've been exhausted all week and I just crashed. Mom and I went to the grocery store to grab some dinner and then she went to bed. I'm trying to do some work on my research paper for tomorrow. Actually, despite the nap, I sorta ready for bed now too, but I really need to get some of this stupid paper written tonight. Sigh. Jenn posted at 1:27 AM | |
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I've never had much luck with English teachers. They either love me and give me As or they hate me and give me Cs on everything. Junior year was no exception. No matter what I did, she didn't like what I wrote, what I said. If I tried to do original thinking, she'd grade me down for not interpreting it the way she had. If I towed her party line, I got graded down for not being original in my analysis. She ended up being around for a lot of my favorite personal moments since her class was where HT and I met up again for the first time since 8th grade. We sat diagonally from each other in front of her desk in the back of the room where we spent a lot of time flirting with each other. The first time I asked out a guy, I turned around and she was there, smiling as she watched our awkward mating ritual of holding hands with sweaty palms. Despite our literary differences, she did something for me that I will never forget. Junior year was when I started having migraines on a more regular basis. One afternoon, I got a monster migraine, but not being allowed to carry any medication whatsoever, I was stuck at school without recourse. We were having a reading period and I couldn't concentrate on anything and the words were blurring. I went up to her at her desk and quietly asked if she had any aspirin. Teachers were allowed to have OTC medication for themselves. She replied that she didn't and it would be against school policy for her to distribute anything to me. Closing my eyes, I nodded, knowing that to be the case. I went back to my desk and rested my forehead on the surface, with my book in my lap, trying to look productive while I waited out the rest of the period. I heard her get up and move past my desk on the way to the front of the room. She dropped something on the pencil tray inside the desk and kept moving. Two Advil tablets. I raised my head and then my hand to ask to go to the bathroom. She nodded her head and went back to her conversation with another student. I palmed the pills and walked as fast as I could to the bathroom where I locked myself in the stall to swallow the caplets. When I walked back in, I smiled gratefully at her and she half-smiled back. We never spoke of it, but she definitely made my life better that day. Jenn posted at 6:44 PM | |
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Yeah, I'm a big dork. It's been raining all day and I've been in a funk for most of the day. Something happened in Cal Politics and it just sorta ruined the rest of my day. Sigh. Mom comes in tomorrow and I can't wait. There's lots to be done, but I'm sure everything will work itself out. Jenn posted at 12:51 AM | |
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In 5th grade, we switched classes for Social Studies and Math to get us used to the concept of moving rooms for different classes. My Social Studies teacher was Mrs. Smith. She was an older teacher with white hair and had a very different teaching style from my homeroom teacher, Ms. Wood. There were interesting exercises that I still remember, including memorizing the Preamble to the Constitution and the beginning of the Declaration of Independence. During our worksheet time, she would call us up to the front of the room to recite it for her. She would continue to call on you until you got it right, but you had to do it by the end of the quarter or you would get a lower grade. I got both right on the first try. During the 4th quarter, we were assigned a research paper, though the subject escapes me. Being 10 years old, I had not learned to properly type, so I dictated the paper to my mom who typed it up on the typewriter. I was proud of my work and my mom had said that she thought it was very good - but hey, she's mom, that's what she's supposed to say! Imagine my surprise when I was pulled out of the computer lab (Oregon Trail!) by Mrs. Smith and the principal demanding to know whether or not I had written my paper. Yes, at the tender age of 10, I was accused of plagarism because my paper was too good. I promptly broke down crying as we went to the office to call my parents. Being 10, I didn't realize what they were accusing me of. I thought I was in trouble because my mom had typed it up for me, not that I didn't actually write it. My parents were incensed and after a meeting at which I was no present, I was again pulled out of class by Mrs. Smith. She had to look me in the eye and apologize for mistaking my good work as cheating and give me my paper, with an A on it. While initially devastated, I admired her ability to admit that she was wrong. That's not easy for most people, but to admit it to a student must have been tough. I also realized that perhaps my thinking was beyond my years and that being named "G/T" had not just been something that got me out of class once a week. This was the first time that I had been singled out as "different" for my thought process, but it wouldn't be the last and this experience definitely prepared me for what was to come in high school and beyond. Jenn posted at 3:46 AM | |
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She was my 5th grade teacher and my 6th grade science teacher. She was just out of college and student teaching, so she was probably as old as I am now, but when I was 10 years old, she was young and gorgeous and everything I wanted to be. Being just out of school, she was idealistic and creative and totally fun. She was athletic and would hang out with us on the playground, playing kickball or basketball. She had favorite students and I was not one of them. There was a new girl, Erin, who was cute, perky and blond - basically the 10 year old version of Ms. Wood. She had big bubbly handwriting that Ms. Wood used to compliment all the time. One quarter, I sat next to Erin in the front of the classroom and spent much of my time trying to emulate her handwriting. Yup, it's because of Miss Wood that I have the big, easy-to-read handwriting I have today. She was engaged a guy named Scott and they were to get married after we graduated sixth grade. Several of her favorite students were invited to the wedding which made me totally jealous. They would also go shopping with her and have lunch on a occasion. I realize now how strange that is, but at the time, I just wanted to belong to the group. I have since learned that Scott cheated on her shortly after they got married and they got a divorce shortly after that. My perfect teacher didn't end up with the perfect life. I realized that no one's life is perfect. I was trying to live up to something that didn't exist. I didn't need to have perfect handwriting or get straight A's to earn the respect and appreciation of my teachers. I just needed to be me and everything else would fall into place. Jenn posted at 1:14 AM | |
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My ambitious senior year began every day with AP Chemistry and Senior Science - arguably the hardest AP class offered by the College Board. Being pre-pre-med, I figured that it would be a good way to get a leg up on my college requirements. The class was tough. We had labs; we had lecture. I did at least 2-3 hours of homework a night, just for that class. But I didn't mind because Mrs. Townley was inspirational. We were nerds and proud of it. My science fair project that year won first place in the behavioral science category. I learned to work harder and achieve great things because she believed that I could. She made sure we understood difficult concepts, graded fairly and totally prepared us for the AP test. And she did so, not because the scores would reflect well on her, but because she truly wanted us to succeed. The day before the test, the entire class gathered at Ahad's house to study all afternoon and into the night. Mrs. Townley came with a pad of butcher paper and a sharpie, doing equations from our books, study guides and past AP test until we totally got the material. On the day of the AP test, she came into the room to wish us luck and then waited outside until we were finished (she wasn't allowed to be in the room with us) to find out what we thought. Then she went out to dinner with us to celebrate. She was compassionate and understanding, pushing us only as far as we could go. The day before winter break, we had a free lab period where we were melting glass rods to make candy canes. I had been feeling sick that day, but had come in because I had a test last period. I gave my lab partner a turn to play and sat down at my desk. That's the last thing I remember until Mrs. Townley shook me awake an hour later. Apparently, I had fallen asleep! She put her hand on my forehead and pronounced that I had a fever. She wanted me to go home, but I explained about the test. I was so embarrassed that I had actually fallen asleep in class and I couldn't stop apologizing. She just shook her head and told me to feel better. She let me sleep because she knew that I needed it - I can't imagine any other teacher doing that. I've heard that she's back at my high school after some time off. She had always told us that she was going to take a year off and go with her husband and her kids and sail their boat around the world. She had an amazing spirit and zest for teaching. Even though she'd been teaching the same subjects for years, you could tell that she really loved doing it and we loved her for it. Jenn posted at 2:33 AM | |
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I got the internship I was hoping for today. I received a call on my cell phone at 12:40pm and eagerly accepted the position. Then I ran to tell Prof C and call my parents! I'm coming to DC for the summer, so there must be lots of fun and fabulousness on the weekends. I will be working my ass off during the day however, as my workday starts at 7am and goes until whenever. Anna and I have started to plan our cross-country road trip, which is going to be awesome! Life just doesn't get better than this! Jenn posted at 6:37 PM | |
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Mrs. Morello, I'm in the Oval Office with the President of the United States and it's because of you. - Donna Moss (Janel Moloney), "The West Wing" This week is National Teacher Appreciation Week as designated by the National PTA. This year's theme is thank a teacher for making public schools great!. Having gone to public school for all of my educational training thus far (including college), I felt inspired to do just that. Each day this week, I'll be dedicating a post to a teacher who changed my life. There are many teachers throughout my life that have shaped the person that I have become. Some supported me, some challenged me, but they have all impacted my life way beyond the classroom. I'd be hard pressed to think of a teacher I've had, who DIDN'T have an impact on me in some way; these will just be the top seven in no particular order. She fell off my radar as I continued to work my way up the college-track math ladder until I was "ready" for AP Calculus AB my senior year. Mrs. S had apparently been moving up as well and I was surprised to see her name on my schedule. It seemed appropriate that since I started with Mrs. Smothers that I would go out with her as well. It became obvious to me that I was in way over my head by October, but unlike college, there was no dropping the class or switching to something else. I became much more interested in doing the Cosmo quiz with the cuties in my class than working out the derivatives in the workbooks. By the end of the year, overcome with senioritis and a complete lack of understanding, I was doing just well enough to pass most things. Taking finals early, we could stop by on our two free days before graduation to get our final grades so as not to be surprised on graduation day. My last stop on my farewell tour was Mrs. Smothers classroom. The room was empty as I made my way to the back where her desk was. I stood there with a smile plastered on my face as she quietly let me know my fate: for the first time ever, I would have a D on my report card. I thanked her for everything and she reminded me that this was only one grade. I managed to get out into the deserted hallway before the tears fell. I realize as I drove home that afternoon, that I had been given a gift. I probably should have failed that class, with the amount of attention I had given it. She had passed me, but barely. I learned that in order to succeed, I needed not just to try, but work hard and ask for help when I needed it. Mrs. Smothers was a compassionate teacher whose bark was worse than her bite. She would go to great lengths for you if you proved yourself worthy. She still teaches math at my high school and for that I am grateful. Jenn posted at 4:51 AM | |