Christmas 1991

My family has many holiday traditions, most of which I vehemently protect, and others of which I could do without. Before we open presents every year we have "sharing time," where we all talk about our lives. I'm not big on that. When we were little and didn't have much life experience, we performed in front of our parents before we opened presents. Unfortunately for me, not only did I lack life experience, but talent as well.

Being 5 years younger than the rest of my siblings, I didn't participate in the numerous classes and activities that they did. So when the other siblings were playing the recorder or saxophone, I was left with the extra parts, such as being a donkey in a play directed by Kirsten. It wasn't bad. I had experience playing the role of animals in nativity plays, and I'm sure I made an excellent donkey.

One year, however, my parents prompted me to perform when nothing had been planned for me. I decided I could do some impromptu choreography to the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies, so my parents cued up the Christmas CD (CD's were just starting to get big at that point), and I got to prancing. I really wanted to be a ballerina (this may have been the year I received a tutu), but my parents never let me take ballet lessons for some reason. Therefore, the dance pretty much consisted of me swaying back and forth and swinging my arms ever so gracefully.

Jan, Kirsten, and Brita decided to spice up this performance (it's a really long song) by jumping up in the air behind me and fluttering their arms at key parts. Um...you kind of have to see it. I demonstrated for my roommates, who got a big kick out of it. They also demanded that I find some old photos.

...You're welcome.

I love Christmas carols

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men!"

hopeful cynicism?

Ooohh Christmas. I love you so much, but I am terrible at shopping for Christmas gifts. There are some people who can just pinpoint exactly what someone would like and get it for them. Those people are so thoughtful. I, on the other hand, spend hours agonizing over what to get people I have known my entire life, because I still have no clue. I have never been a thoughtful friend. Reliable, maybe; I'll go so far as to say that, but never one of those thoughtful people who can get something to fit someone else's personality. Or who thinks of cute things to do for your roommates or leave them little notes. I love those things, but I just don't think to do them.

I was thinking about my inability to pick out Christmas gifts last night as I was falling asleep*, and I realized something: I lack vision.

If I had the vision, I could think about the personalities of my friends and family members and imagine something that would be perfect for them. But I just can't do that.

Maybe this wouldn't be a huge deal if it was just about presents, but I have no vision in life. In my classroom, I tend to do things the way my mentor teacher does and the way my school does, because I'm supposed to. However, I'm scared that once I have my own classroom, I may just end up doing what I know because I can no longer come up with anything new. I came into this year with high ideals and hopes for learning how to put them into practice, and now I wonder if they're slipping away.

And then last night, I was reading a book by Shane Claiborne. This is a guy who in college joined a group of homeless families in a stand to not get kicked out of a church they were living in. And then, on a quest to find someone who was truly following Jesus, he pretty much just picked up the phone, dialed Mother Teresa, and hopped a plane to go live with her for awhile with the sick and dying citizens of Calcutta.

Vision, man.

I read the Bible and think, Wow. Jesus really just lived with people and showed them this amazing love by giving them what they needed. I need to do that. And then I think, Okay, how? In my current life, what can I do? As a teacher next year, what can I do? Where should I live? Am I even supposed to be a teacher, or am I supposed to quit everything, join a commune, and begin making my own clothing so that I'm not supporting greedy, oppressive corporations?

I realize that this is not the route everyone is supposed to take. And if I had enough vision, I would be able to think of a new route that someone needs to travel. I prayed for vision last night, but I don't actually believe I will change. I suppose I need a little more faith, too.

Ooohh the ambivalence. This is my life.



*Actually, I came to this realization after reading Shane Claiborne, not after thinking about Christmas presents. However, I was going to lie to you in order to begin with an ordinary, concrete concept like buying presents, because that is something I do when I am writing: begin with an everyday thing, make a generalization about life, then extend that generalization to some more meaningful concept. I don't know if this is a legitimate writing style that they teach you in English classes or anything, but I adopted it a long time ago. I am also adopting footnotes for today, because Shane Claiborne uses them a lot, and it makes me smile.

lemons and peppermint sticks

If our house did send out a Christmas card, it might have to look like this, as it is one of the few pictures we have together:

snap snap

sometimes I get scared

I think my biggest fear as a teacher is that I will break the children's spirits.

Or on the other end that I'll let them slip through the cracks and never be able to do as well in school as their affluent peers.

ps: it's a long video; just watch up through the bee