I have a friend Lamarr Womble, who has a life philosophy about passionate living. He believes, and lives out the belief, that one should assess their passions and turn them into a lifestyle. What you love is what you should do. If you are young, don't even get started on a career path that steers you away from your passion. If you are older, integrate elements of what you're about into your life - make it your side hustle - until you become so good at it that maybe your side hustle can become your main hustle.
Eighteen months ago when I first heard this philosophy, Lamarr asked a simple question: "What's your passion?"
Even in the most fundamental and basic of things, I find a way to be complicated. He asked a singular question and I gave a plural answer. I can see now how the answer has changed slightly (or how I am looking past the blinders I had on at the time) but it still plural. I am passionate about writing, politically activism, and children.
As a 22-year-old with a semi-good job working with kids and an inclination to not be tied down at the moment, I think I should take some risks to pursue my love for writing. I have been presented with several opportunities that I don't follow through with - partially because of lack of organization, partially because of fear.
It's time to stop being afraid.
What step will I take today to pursue my passion?
Drafting and/or editing.
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Monday, June 21, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Moving Mountains
There are some days when I sit back and look at my surroundings and look at the people I know and love and think:
And I want to be a cog in the system working for change in a small way, in a way teenagers need. I want to move one mountain, one stone at a time, not join with a large group of people to shift the entire course of the Rockies. Just one mountain. And I've got a lifetime to move it by myself.
And then I talk to a lady in Build-A-Bear. Sweet lady who looks Hispanic and whose daughter looks either Hispanic or Middle Eastern. She comes in an average of twice a month and never drops less than $100 on her four-year-old. I thought she was insane at first, because that's way too much money on children's toys. But this week she came in twice - Monday and Tuesday - and said some things that made me look deeper.
Monday she told about how they had "cut back" because her daughter wasn't treating her toys like she was grateful, like they were special. Very observant. Much less materialistic than I had originally thought she was. Tuesday they come in and she is wearing the same clothes - and a woman who drops dollars like she does has plenty of clothes to change into. She looks tired, sad, sick, or all of the above and she's doing a ton of sniffling. She looks at me almost apologetically and says, "We just came back for the jaguar. Just the jaguar." Her daughter starts running around looking at the things she likes and trying to decide if she has them at home already (because she's got half our store). I ask her if she is okay. She says she's been sick.
The lady sits down in a chair looking ready to wither and starts talking to me. She was surprised that I understood everything her daughter said. She said I must have kids. I told her no, I just love them and love to listen to them. I said I taught two- and three-year old Sunday school for a couple of years and that I want to teach high school English. She says I'll be great. After some time passes she says, "You should teach at Cassidy."
If you know me or have read my other posts about teaching, you know that I have NO desire to teach preppy, rich, white kids. And Cassidy is more preppy, rich, and white than almost any private school in the metro. I had to reign in my thoughts before I said, "Oh hell no!"
Instead I said, "Well, I've always wanted to teach in public schools. Private schools, especially Cassidy, are kind of..."
"Snotty?" She put in. I nodded appreciatively. She continued: "I don't ever want to be hateful, but some of the parents there are very elitist even toward my family." And we proceed to have a whole conversation about rich, snotty people and how she doesn't want to be one, how she doesn't want her daughter to be one, and how she's not sure if she wants her daughter attending that school past elementary. She is afraid the other kids will hurt her. And I can completely relate because that's how it always was for me in private elementary and junior high school.
She isn't from Oklahoma. Wherever she lived before, she attended public school in what she referred to as a "Mexican ghetto," likely the same kind I want to teach in. She said it was scary and she doesn't want her daughter to go through that either.
I worried over her and the reason behind her sniffles and weakness and day-old outfit until they left.
I stood there wondering what I could have done more to help. I had wanted to hug her but didn't know if that was okay.
And then I thought: I'll have to do something more than just teach high school English. But I don't know what it is yet. Right now, the Build-A-Bear Workshop will do.
I just want to teach high school English in OKC public schools.
I want to have my weekends and summers off. I want to be able to randomly drive to Dallas or Houston to spend quality time with my family. I want to be free to go places and experience things.And I want to be a cog in the system working for change in a small way, in a way teenagers need. I want to move one mountain, one stone at a time, not join with a large group of people to shift the entire course of the Rockies. Just one mountain. And I've got a lifetime to move it by myself.
And then I talk to a lady in Build-A-Bear. Sweet lady who looks Hispanic and whose daughter looks either Hispanic or Middle Eastern. She comes in an average of twice a month and never drops less than $100 on her four-year-old. I thought she was insane at first, because that's way too much money on children's toys. But this week she came in twice - Monday and Tuesday - and said some things that made me look deeper.
Monday she told about how they had "cut back" because her daughter wasn't treating her toys like she was grateful, like they were special. Very observant. Much less materialistic than I had originally thought she was. Tuesday they come in and she is wearing the same clothes - and a woman who drops dollars like she does has plenty of clothes to change into. She looks tired, sad, sick, or all of the above and she's doing a ton of sniffling. She looks at me almost apologetically and says, "We just came back for the jaguar. Just the jaguar." Her daughter starts running around looking at the things she likes and trying to decide if she has them at home already (because she's got half our store). I ask her if she is okay. She says she's been sick.
The lady sits down in a chair looking ready to wither and starts talking to me. She was surprised that I understood everything her daughter said. She said I must have kids. I told her no, I just love them and love to listen to them. I said I taught two- and three-year old Sunday school for a couple of years and that I want to teach high school English. She says I'll be great. After some time passes she says, "You should teach at Cassidy."
If you know me or have read my other posts about teaching, you know that I have NO desire to teach preppy, rich, white kids. And Cassidy is more preppy, rich, and white than almost any private school in the metro. I had to reign in my thoughts before I said, "Oh hell no!"
Instead I said, "Well, I've always wanted to teach in public schools. Private schools, especially Cassidy, are kind of..."
"Snotty?" She put in. I nodded appreciatively. She continued: "I don't ever want to be hateful, but some of the parents there are very elitist even toward my family." And we proceed to have a whole conversation about rich, snotty people and how she doesn't want to be one, how she doesn't want her daughter to be one, and how she's not sure if she wants her daughter attending that school past elementary. She is afraid the other kids will hurt her. And I can completely relate because that's how it always was for me in private elementary and junior high school.
She isn't from Oklahoma. Wherever she lived before, she attended public school in what she referred to as a "Mexican ghetto," likely the same kind I want to teach in. She said it was scary and she doesn't want her daughter to go through that either.
I worried over her and the reason behind her sniffles and weakness and day-old outfit until they left.
I stood there wondering what I could have done more to help. I had wanted to hug her but didn't know if that was okay.
And then I thought: I'll have to do something more than just teach high school English. But I don't know what it is yet. Right now, the Build-A-Bear Workshop will do.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Why Did I Get Married?
I'm not married, but I spend a lot of time thinking about whether I ever want to be. Some would say that since I'm not dating, I shouldn't even think about it. But I feel like marriages fail when you don't prepare for them. So if I ever want to be married, I need to know what tactics will keep that marriage from failing.
I come from a divorced home. This not surprising considering that my father and mother were each other's second marriage (60% of second marriages become divorces, DivorceRate.org). My cousin is about to get divorced, which is still not surprising (41% of first marriages become divorces) despite all of our family's efforts to choose good spouses.
Six of the women in my family sat down the other night to talk about what's happening with my cousin, and at the end of it, I found myself wondering: why do we even bother?
Why get married? For love? Tina Turner said, and I tend to agree, that love is nothing "but a second-hand emotion." There are lots of times when you love someone you don't marry or marry someone you don't love. Plenty of our ancestors married people they didn't love and stayed together for 50 or 60 years. So I don't think it's all about love.
My aunt said humans are supposed to create families; in other words we marry to create a family unit for the kids we want to have. I think that perspective is fine if one wants to have children. But, in my opinion, having children is something that needs to be re-evaluated as well. My cousin has a baby, and although she loves her daughter very much, and her daughter is happy, there will come a time when she will suffer because her father is not around. Is it responsible of parents to bring children into a family unit that isn't "complete"? And some people just don't make good parents. They are too involved in their job or their personal pursuits to give a child the kind of attention it would need. So I don't think having kids is a valid reason to marry, not with the issues we have in America today.
So why get married?
The only thing I've heard that makes sense to me is this: marry someone who makes you happy and will help you do your life better than you could do it without them. My friend is graduating this May with degrees in English education and journalism. She is engaged to a man who will graduate at the same time with a degree in social studies education. They fit. They will help each other throughout life.
I think if we were all brutally honest with ourselves, we would not completely throw love to the way side, but we would acknowledge that a marriage is only partially about love; it's mostly about commitment. If we treated our marriages like our businesses (made time investments in them, thought about the future while planning the present, thought about the whole team/family) then maybe we'd have better retention rates.
Or maybe I'm just a huge cynic.
I come from a divorced home. This not surprising considering that my father and mother were each other's second marriage (60% of second marriages become divorces, DivorceRate.org). My cousin is about to get divorced, which is still not surprising (41% of first marriages become divorces) despite all of our family's efforts to choose good spouses.
Six of the women in my family sat down the other night to talk about what's happening with my cousin, and at the end of it, I found myself wondering: why do we even bother?
Why get married? For love? Tina Turner said, and I tend to agree, that love is nothing "but a second-hand emotion." There are lots of times when you love someone you don't marry or marry someone you don't love. Plenty of our ancestors married people they didn't love and stayed together for 50 or 60 years. So I don't think it's all about love.
My aunt said humans are supposed to create families; in other words we marry to create a family unit for the kids we want to have. I think that perspective is fine if one wants to have children. But, in my opinion, having children is something that needs to be re-evaluated as well. My cousin has a baby, and although she loves her daughter very much, and her daughter is happy, there will come a time when she will suffer because her father is not around. Is it responsible of parents to bring children into a family unit that isn't "complete"? And some people just don't make good parents. They are too involved in their job or their personal pursuits to give a child the kind of attention it would need. So I don't think having kids is a valid reason to marry, not with the issues we have in America today.
So why get married?
The only thing I've heard that makes sense to me is this: marry someone who makes you happy and will help you do your life better than you could do it without them. My friend is graduating this May with degrees in English education and journalism. She is engaged to a man who will graduate at the same time with a degree in social studies education. They fit. They will help each other throughout life.
I think if we were all brutally honest with ourselves, we would not completely throw love to the way side, but we would acknowledge that a marriage is only partially about love; it's mostly about commitment. If we treated our marriages like our businesses (made time investments in them, thought about the future while planning the present, thought about the whole team/family) then maybe we'd have better retention rates.
Or maybe I'm just a huge cynic.
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