Undercover Teacher

I plunged into my second day of “teaching” in the middle of a Washingtonian farming community, eagerly facilitating a lesson on music as poetry. While I was excited to see nearly everyone engaged (despite the lack of preparedness on the part of 5 out of 6 guys), my primary “teacher moment” came during 2^nd period with a bunch of seniors. Yes, the seniors are working on their senior projects—which of course means that the entire period is spent dinging around, playing computer games, chatting, or sleeping on the floor (my cooperating teacher has pillows in her class!!).

The sub busied herself on the computer while I joined the circle of four girls browsing through Cosmo. Oh, I shant forget to mention the four boys that were on the fringe of our little circle--also listening in and commenting on Avril Lavigne’s new glam look. Motivated by the riveting conversations about gender, sexuality, and sex ed in my teacher-prep program, I started asking questions about the sex-ed program or lack thereof at Random High.

Rolling eyes, whispered asides, and awkward chair adjustments signaled that the sub was mortified that I was 1) allowing the discussion to occur, and 2) actually participating in it with comments and questions.
The pinnacle of the experience was when the sub mentioned how inappropriate certain kinds of sex ed were for an immature audience. All eyes turned to listen to her argument, then seconds after she’d finished her shpeel they jumped on it.

“Schools only allow facts, not discussion on personal feelings and choices”

“I’d make your mom jokes too”

“If they don’t hear about it, how will they make educated decisions?”

It was a beautiful sight. I wanted to to hug every single on of those kids. Amidst articles of sex faux paus, booty-call guidelines, and inappropriate doctor-patient relationships, I discovered that these seniors were critically thinking about the messages communicated through superficial magazines. Guys and gals alike criticized the advice of Cosmo editors and readers. In fact, these kids were very in tune with their own sexuality and all encompassing needs than I’m sure most adults would give them credit for.

I'm too sexy for this shirt....

Who would have suspected that a week in Gender, Sexuality, and Schooling, a video about the feminist movement, and segregated/coed discussions about gender stereotypes would send me down this meandering trail of contemplation.

I am struck by the conscious and unconscious influences that have contributed to the creation of the current April 10, 2005 version of Hope Evangeline Teague. I hate to admit that I am a product of multiple voices (including my own), my global culture, and my personal choices. Whether you want to blame media or your parents, each one of us has to reconcile the enticing and sometimes contradicting voices of our environment.

I live in America: land of the free, home of the brave. I can choose my own adventure, my own reality, my own identity—rejecting or embracing the image of perfection mainstream media knows so well. I am autonomous, independent. It’s all about me. Liberty. Rights. Freedom to fulfill my wildest, most selfish desires in the pursuit of happiness.

Thanks to my sisters, who machete-ed the path of freedom, I have the right to vote, the right to have sex-- the right to embrace my sexuality in all its glory!! Freedom. Girls gone wild! I am no longer dictated by the desire of man. No longer in a state of penis envy. On no, I am throwing off the chains of gender bondage and reclaiming my sexuality. Let’s burn these constraining symbols of subjagation!! Oh wait; I just spent $50 on them. Never mind…

A sex-o-matic, venus freak. The sexual revolution of the 60’s and 70’s did well to put the power of sexuality back into the hands women across this nation. Or did it? Seems like a win-win situation for most men. In the past, they dominated the bedroom and demanded their needs met with little regard for the object of desire. Today, men may not have to do so much demanding because women are liberated to explore their sexual selves. Some argue, that the power of sexuality has always belonged to the woman…regretfully, another topic for another time.

Freedom in sexuality? Free to be “safely” engage in pleasure. Free to make the choice to sleep around…or remain abstinent. Is the girl who chooses the latter perpetuating the oppression of female sexuality? Is the category of slut just a social construct that resulted from jealous women? I’m not buying it. Maybe there’s a boundaries to enjoying your sexuality to its fullest without being known as the town whore. And what shall be said for the role boundaries to strengthen that freedom? We live in a society with rules and regulations—as much as I hate restrictions, I’m appreciative of guidelines that aid the function of community. I suppose Paine would mock me to some extent.

And in the midst of every diatribe, the pendulum must eventually quite swinging. Is there a point of equilibrium, a place of balance in discussions on gender and sexuality? If I have the right, then should I exercise it? Should we fight for the right, and then do whatever we want? Can we really change the expectations of culture? Are we really changing anything especially t he mentality, culture, and social “norm” defined by upper middle class white males? As a living entity, culture evolves. Do we want it to? And how so? We fight culture. Culture changes. Then fight that culture. It changes again. But did it ever really change? Or are we disillusioned to believe that it did? Perhaps the changes are just another form of the same thing. Men may still end up on top.

Question all—how do I know the next bandwagon is good or actually a waste? How do my actions, words, etc. reflect an alternative viewpoint? How about an alternative of the alternative’s alternative? Am I a walking perpetuator of status quo Americana and mediocre tradition? Or do I represent a voice of reason and perspective?

Warning: rants to come

Yes, I've been neglecting my lovely little blog. But alas, the spring quarter of my sadistic graduate program is in full-swing. We are entering the sexuality and education discussion. You can expect to see some reflections and reactions to this topic. I will try to post things in sections, as not to be overwhelming.

Oh yeah, I've been thinking alot about boxes and labels. And the pope.

Now back to my reading.

A word to the foolish

Amazing how a week can pass you by, even though you complain of how slowly time moves when you’re in it the midst of it. I have a lingering migraine, a conglomeration of green apple, bagel, and over-salted pretzels settling in my stomach. With its ups and downs, this trip has given me an abundance of time to think and reflect. I attempt to solidify a few of the thought streams. One epiphany: I hope my life produces stories that will impart a bit of wisdom to the foolish. Gosh, foolishness haunts me like Peter’s shadow. Get away, get away!!!

Moving on…

Wisdom and foolishness are by-products of risk. Risk. The unknown. Invigorating, intimidating, and intoxicating. I’m an adventurous gal, easily tired by repetition (recently accused that it was actually consistency, and I was afraid of it. Bah!). In order to get my fix, I like to try new things. Oh the intoxication of piercings and tattoos. Anymore, neither of those items is considered exploratory. Alas, I stick to the mundane hair dye, the pig brain, and the less audacious.

I suppose each time I endeavor something new (be it relationally, academically, or professionally) I ought to do a little CBA. How will this service me in the future? While I’m definitely a proponent of assessing my decisions, time investments and mistakes, not to mention that I value intentionality, somehow I end up in situations that cause me to wonder, what am I doing? Will I screw up my own life or someone else’s? I’m also a strong believer in the interdisciplinary nature of life. Everything affects everything else. It may not happen now, but I know that my future will live to tell the story of my past choices.

Maybe you can relate to what I’m saying. I do not believe I’m alone in my observations. Quick poll: how many of you want to run when faced with risks and challenges? Ok, so I know there are a few out there that scream, “bring it!” (please add your own accent for emphasis). But let’s be honest with ourselves. We run for many reasons. Fear. Frustration. Can’t be bothered. Lack of commitment and integrity.

My father raised me to believe in independence, self-sufficiency, and perseverance. Don’t let the man keep you down. So I’ve held on dearly to his philosophy, adapting it to fit my personality and belief system. Somehow, in the past two years, I’ve loosened my grip on this fortune cookie adage. As I embrace the mortality of life and the twenty-something period of my life, I find myself frantically calling the travel agent for the soonest flight to Zimbabwe or Kyrgastan. It’s much simpler to run. Don’t have to face anyone. Don’t have to face myself, my inabilities, my insufficiencies, and insecurities. That’s a lot of ins.

I’m proud to say I haven’t run…yet. Usually after a time of introspective meditation, I reach for my air boot-straps, take in a deep breath, and say…ok, I’m not going to say that here. But essentially, I refuse to be dictated by others. I refuse to allow myself the satisfaction of knowing I was right…wrong—depends on the situation. I suck it up, apply for a new job, and move on with my life.

I suppose my name, Hope, has prophetically shaped my outlook on life. The slightest ray of possibility is often enough to get me going again. At this stage of my life, I’m trying hard to grip that last thread. To ignore that flat tire as I careen 80 mph down I-5.

Oh but these things are momentary! I press on, praying for the wisdom of those who’ve gone before, and hoping to share a bit to those who come behind.

What I like about Kansas

My trip to Kansas is slowly drawing to a close. The sun makes me happy and is therefore at the top of my list.

• I like that people drive the speed limit (55mph) on a road in the middle of nowhere when cops are not around.
• I like that most people are friendly, will wave hello, and seem to care about one another.
• I like that a college town (Lawrence, practically the only other town I’ve been to all week!) is a college town. A movie theatre packed with students on a Wednesday night.
• I like that you can wear a turtleneck under a crewneck sweatshirt, sweats, and tennis shoes and feel right at home.
• I like that so many lawns have stone birdbaths.
• I like that every town has a little “cool” spot where all the kids hang out (Shout out to Dairy Queen).
• I like that I can ask a hs kid what he/she does for fun and a discussion on tractors and hay ensues.
• Wow, I just noticed the plethora of “support your troop” stickers on every car. Very supportive. Hmm….
• Most of all I like that I’ve been exposed to another part of the world!!

This week has crawled by but now abruptly finishes. I’ve had some time to think, ponder, and reflect. Most of all, I’ve strengthened a sisterly bond.

I got it on ebay

Many of you know that I am constantly on the look-out for legal and relatively safe ways to increase my income. While I have yet to sell my plasma, and I maintain a few concerns about being a surrogate mother, I do not believe in street-walking, donating my eggs, or the like.

Tuesday, as I glanced through The Ottawa Herald, I noticed a mid-Western young man’s genius. Ebay. This brilliant youth auctioned himself off as a prom-date. He recounts, “I was inspired as I thought about prom and stuff”. Amazing. If you think about it, ebay is an excellent substitute for Walmart. Everything you’ve ever wanted, at your price. Need a 16^th century Japanese Samurai sword? Get it on ebay. Coveting an authentic replica of Dorothy's ruby red slippers? Ebay. Looking for OJ’s glove? I’m sure it’s on ebay.

Now, the article did not include a picture of this boy, but I’d like to think I would make a riveting date for more than $29.99. I wonder if I actually have to go on the date, or if I could fabricate a hologram or set up a web-cam as a proxy?

Slacker that I am

Yes, I've failed to write some witty entry for today. I will assert that I've written a number of things but they are not finished.
I must say my Kansas trip is riveting. I went with a kid, who might be considered a distant relative if you think of things in the Filipino family sense, to watch Million Dollar Baby in the booming college town of Lawrence.
That movie left me a mess! And in light of the situation in Florida--wow. I will definately blog about that later. Yes, I did ask him dumb questions about Kansas. Like does he go cow-tipping. I know, I know. You'd think I'd be more culturally sensitive but alas, I didn't care.

But so far have been attempting to do homework in the only coffeeshop in town.
Mind you, it does have wireless. PTL (who actually uses that--hail my hs years)!
When I asked for loose-leaf tea, both the baristas looked at me like I was on crack. Then the young man remembered this large bag of darjeeling tea that was sitting under the counter. But of course, neither of them knew what the heck I was talking about when I tried to explain the little tea-spoon, thingy. Oh well. I learned to sip around the leaves.

Tonite I shall proceed to a midWestern cultural venue--Walmart. I shall try not to purchase a single thing because I don't want to support such an awful corporate giant. Um...yes, I'm still trying to balance the ideals of my Northwestern roots and my newly acquired viewpoints from small-town, USA.

The religious nature of the nominal Christian.

Why attest to holding certain values if they don’t change the way you live, move, and breath? This woman (let’s call her Nurse) confessed to me today that she was ashamed that her daughter 1) worked as a part-time stripper to put herself through college, and 2) performed a lap dance for her husband’s friend.

Somehow in the midst of her explanation for shame, shock, and inability to accept her daughter’s life choices (not that I think acceptance is necessary…), Nurse confided in me that their relationship has been furthered stressed because this she had gotten drunk one day and embarrassed her daughter. Details aside—supposedly this Nurse didn’t even remember what she’d done and her daughter was not telling—she ended up asking me whether or not she should help her daughter if said daughter rang for help. A side remark referencing “what Jesus would do” ended the Real-World confession. I stood in the kitchen of my distant relatives; Ottawa, Kansas—my first day and relatively unexciting day in the midWest –-and wondered if this woman was asking me a rhetorical question. While she looked at me with expectation, my mind searched for something to say. The counselor in me kicked in as I encouraged her to assess why her daughter was asking for help. If it was already a humbling experience for said daughter to ask mom for help, then it was probably not a good idea to bring up the poor treatment as of late.

A few hours later, I was again in conversation with Nurse. This time she mentioned how some woman was discipling her. Through this discipleship she’d learned that it was unnecessary to respond to her husband’s outbursts of emotion. In the back of my mind, I was wondering what kind of discipleship this was. We all have our own definitions of what essentially is a mentor relationship. Accountability may or may not be involved. And that really is another topic for another time.

But I wonder, in this area that I think can be considered Bible Belt, what kind of religion do we have represented here. Based on my own personal interests, I’m intrigued by the manifestation of what is considered “Christian”. I guess I’m not satisfied with the idea that religion is just another thing on my list of interests. I’m not just buying into certain beliefs because I think they sound good, give me earthly and eternal security, or ensure a particular quality of life. In fact, the Christianity I’ve experienced and have read in the Bible claim quite the opposite. Ok, my soul is secure but there are no guarantees that life now won’t be hell. No money-back policy if—after conversion--the fast car, new house, and flourishing business escape me. Somehow, relinquishing control of my life to a physically absent person doesn’t instill a great sense of safety. And yet…I ought to completely trust the One who knows me inside and out—my Maker. Embracing what He considers authentic, fulfilled, purpose-driven life I rest assured knowing that it’s not up to me to perform in order to bend the Mighty hand of God. Nor am I the determiner of human decisions. By no means is this an excuse to take a backseat in the story of my life. Oh no. I’m inspired to press into the natural goals and plans I have for my life, believing that my destiny will come to pass in a timing greater than my own.

Kansas: As bigoted as you think

Yes, this is a slogan I witnessed draped across the veranda of a local homestead.
Folks, I'm in Kansas and boy is this a trip.
I've decided to post a few of my meandering thoughts while I'm here--fortunately I discovered the only coffeeshop in town and it happens to have wireless.

Politics, politics, teenage politics

Hmm… The title of that old MxPx song has always stuck with me. Recently, I’ve been challenged to face the opinions, thoughts, and excuses that make up my “political views”. Growing up abroad cultivated somewhat of an apathetic attitude towards American politics. Not that I didn’t care what was going on in my government, but I didn’t see a need to form an opinion or really understand the system. Oh wait—I have a memory of arguing with my politically liberal and opinionated Uncle in the living room of his home when I was about ten years old. I adamantly argued that Bush Sr. would be a better president than Clinton. My uncle laughed at my childish ignorance, sure I’d formed my opinion based on my father’s conservative viewpoint. Father always prefaced his political discussions by noting the triviality of government and how the natural world was secondary to the spiritual realm. I think his role as a cleric and his belief in the separation of church and state contributed to this attitude (I will insert a disclaimer that this is my perception of my father, not a true representation of his beliefs. In the last eight years, I’ve seen a more political side of my father as he’s taken an active role in the community).

High school government/econ class was extremely boring. US history was trite and uninteresting—especially compared to the Asian and European history I studied and lived.

I’m sure attending a Christian university (recently deemed “Bush country”) perpetuated my chosen ignorance towards the American political scene. Whenever I heard folks complain about this country (whether about politics, culture, economics or whatever) I immediately piped up “got a complaint, get out”. We are blessed to live in such a prospering nation that has endured merely an iota of the political unrest most nations in the world have experienced. Granted, I usually kept a measured voice as not to stir up unnecessary trouble.

Moving back to the Pacific Northwest opened my eyes to the prevalence of political perspectives held by the average Joe or Juanita. I found myself reading the newspaper more often and researching controversial issues on the web. Alas, I maintained distance in vocalizing my thoughts. This year, I endeavored a Master’s program at The Evergreen State College and realized how little I truly knew of the political climate in this nation and the world. I’ve been inspired to listen to both sides of arguments (my Church side, which tends to be conservative, and my school or public side, which leans towards liberalism). I fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum but strongly hold to the philosophy that I ought to wisely pick my battles. I try to at least be aware of the “facts” of the debate, but I prefer not to develop an ultimatum because the hot topics change almost daily and I can’t keep up!

It finally dawned on me in oh…the last two weeks why I’ve kept my distance on these issues. I feel so far behind in my knowledge that it would take a lifetime to catch up and form an educated opinion on a plethora of topics that are equally important. What can I do?

If I remain ignorant, then I’ve chosen this ignorance (yes, I know I chose it in the past, so it would be simple to maintain). In choosing ignorance, I am silently agreeing with the system—resulting in the perpetuation of the status quo. I profess to believe in justice, equality, upholding “truth,” and a number of other noble ideals. How then, do I find myself taking a passive role? Am I choosing to shut up and sing? To jump through the hoops of a “mightier” force? If I’ve chosen to this point, then why can’t I choose to change? Or…maybe I just can’t be bothered. And here I sit, unsure of my next move.

Thoughts

Everyone and their mama has a blog, I thought I'd start one too.
Interesting how we like to procrastinate by reading random websites...perhaps I shall find someone I can live vicariously through.