tamarjacobson

I really enjoyed Stranger Than Fiction yesterday. Well, you see, only recently I became a fan of Will Ferrell, ever since I caught a peak of Elf some months ago on television. And, of course, I have loved Emma Thompson forever it seems. I love a movie that makes me think and this one surely did. Mainly, I came out of it thinking that non-fiction is for wimps! My oh my. If only I had the courage to write fiction. To climb into the head, the lives of others and create a story that awes, inspires, fills the mind with tragedy, humor, love, and passion.

When I was young I could dream up all sorts of stories in my head. Their theme always seemed to have something to do with heroic acts by some brave and wondrous young woman. Talk about wishful thinking! Talk about searching for attention and acknowledgment! I must admit that it just seems easier to write non-fiction, commenting, debating, sharing my own story. Not much creativity there. In non-fiction I don’t have to be empathic or imaginative. Sure, I can show my smarts or share my opinions. I might even write well modeling self-reflection and opening up pieces of my past. But fiction is so much more complex. Especially because, when done well, it places the characters in agonizing situations while exploring or resolving moral dilemmas. Fiction enables us to suspend reality and yet steep us in it all at the same time. It is magic and mystery while being as comfortably mundane as can be. It certainly gives us an illusion that there is more to life than just, well, living the daily routine.

As we were driving home it occurred to me that for as long as I can remember I thought life was just so much bigger, more dramatic, and intense. My expectations were full of wonder and awe. And yet recently I have been noticing that, in fact, life is quite ordinary. It seems so much smaller, and my expectations have become almost non-existent. Dreams of academia or the one love of my life have been brought way down to size. I don’t think they have been shattered. It’s not disappointment, cynicism or disillusionment. I am not sad or bitter about it. Rather, it feels like a peaceful acceptance that life is just that. Little acts, mundane, daily routines. Every now and again someone will surprise me with an act of kindness, compassion or generosity of spirit. Or there will be a beautiful sunrise bringing me out of a painful night. Sometimes life will be sprinkled with fiction that might suspend my reality for a moment, filling me with joy or pleasure and then on I go again, plodding along through life.

In fact, I realize, it is quite comforting not to have to go crazy any more, trying to cover all this reality up with desperation and pain, angst and glorious passion.

Plodding feels just fine to me right about now. Sitting still, like a Sphinx, and just watching, observing, understanding, deepening, listening. And sometimes, even, finding myself smiling with joy.

A year ago at Tamarika: You’ve had your chance

"1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.

2. You haven’t played solitaire with real cards in years.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.

4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don’t have e-mail addresses.

6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.

7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the screen.

8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn’t have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.

10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your coffee.

11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )

12. You’re reading this and nodding and laughing.

13. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.

14. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.

15. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn’t a #9 on this list

AND NOW U R LAUGHING at yourself.

Go on, forward this to your friends. You know you want to.
Enjoy, and Happy Thanksgiving"

… sometimes I sigh …

I wake up with the phrase of a song ringing in my head. Echoes of some dream I can not remember. Tears prickling and twinkling in my eyes. I keep thinking the song and staying with the phrase, "Sometimes I cry …" and then, "human condition," comes next. I realize it is connected to the children I had seen yesterday and the day before, during my visits to different classrooms to supervise teachers or consult with other early childhood programs. Little children reaching out for love and attention, soft, sweet bodies with bright eyes burning into my soul, searching my face for answers. Little hands clasping mine, warm bodies melting into my lap as we listened to the teacher telling a story. One little girl asked me, as I tied her shoelaces in preparation to play outdoors, "Will you come back tomorrow?" I wanted to reply, "Yes, and forever after that. I will always be here." Instead I said, "Soon." She registered resignation in her face and I went on, "I have to go to my work of teaching teachers, but I will come back another day and see you." She smiled and skipped out to play. And I drove away with her eyes imprinted in my heart and brain.

I think about my Chair who said to me, "Children should not be poor. It simply is not right." My heart melted at that. "No," I thought, as I drove away from one of the schools in one of the poorest districts, "No child deserves to be poor. But more than that, no child deserves to be unloved or neglected, teased or humiliated, ignored or laughed at."

I think, too, of missed opportunities. Instead of enveloping the children in their mental and physical embrace, a few of my students choose to sit back and scorn the school culture, despising the teachers who host them.

White privilege is insidious, toxic, all pervasive, deep in our collective psyche affecting who we are, choices we make, how we think, behaviors, expectations …

The human condition.

Sometimes I cry … sometimes I sigh … and then I climb wearily into my car, and off I go again …

Quote of the day:

To remain silent and indifferent is the greatest sin of all. Elie Wiesel

When I visited the Teaching Tolerance booth in the exhibit hall at the NAEYC conference last week, I was allowed to take a little book called Speak Up! At the back of the book is a pledge, which I embrace:

I PLEDGE TO SPEAK UP!

In pledging to respond to everyday bigotry, I will:

• Speak up when I hear or see bigotry;
• Question and identify bias when I see it;
• Be mindful of my own behaviors;
• Promote and appeal to higher principles;
• Set limits on what is said or done around me;
• Seek help and help others to work against bigotry; and
• Remain vigilant and persistent.

Update:

When I was visiting one of the student field placement sites yesterday, I was chatting with the Director and letting her know about the book, Speak Up! She said that her father always used to say:

"If you don’t stand for something, you fall for anything."

I had not heard that saying before.

A year ago at Tamarika: Got lucky

Thinking about Happy Monday and now it is Tuesday. News becomes old almost as immediately as it is posted. Time feels short and swift and moving on ahead of me. I remember waiting longingly for special days when I was young: birthdays, holidays, weddings, birth of my son. And now the seasons seem to fly by. Here I am and it is already almost the end of the semester and winter seems to be a snap away. Observing in a preschool classroom today I notice a chart of the seasons, arrow pointing towards fall. I remember those charts from when I was a young child. They were awesome, depicting moments in time that seemed so far away. Looking at the chart today it seems so small as if the seasons have been shortened into a brief moment in time.

Hm … time. Outside my office I hear the loud tick-tock-ing of the hall clock as it spells out the minutes of the day bringing me closer to this meeting or that class, this advisee needing to register for spring classes … is it almost already spring?

I know, I know, I am only 57, and yet is life winding down? I remember stepping out of the stall of the restroom at the airport the other day. I looked up and caught a glimpse of my gray, no white, hair and thinking, "Oh my! That’s me. That older woman looking back at me. That’s me. Who would have thought …?"

Love and loving those I care about whether it is family members, significant other, my child, other people’s children, students, friends, whomever. This is most important to me now. And this is timeless and forever.

Bruce Perry says, "It’s all about relationships."

A year ago at Tamarika: Addiction; Personal, professional, political

[The New Yorker cartoon]

And Ernesto at Never Neutral has a good cartoon too for today! What a coincidence!

A year ago on Tamarika: It should be the norm; Emptiness

It is as if the clock has turned back and yet I am changed.

Five years ago I was at the peak of my career and then the road became rocky, oh so rocky. I feel as if I have been bumping along, sometimes dragging across sharp stones and craggy cliffs, at others dipping deep into the valleys, an abyss even here and there.

This time at National, I seemed to take a slow, sure, steady climb up the hill. Am not sure that there will be a peak now and that feels good. There were moments of joy, reconciliation and sincere connection, recognition of ancient pains, and yet peaceful in the end of it.

My frenzied conference schedule is over for the time being. I arrived home with a sense of satisfaction, much accomplished. More than I could ever dream or have imagined even just last week. Even the nation seems slightly changed. It is in the air. Change. We have even seen the valley of the shadow these past six years … experienced it … and now, has the darkness softened?

I listen to Tom pottering in the kitchen preparing our evening meal. Ada sits close, steady breathing and a Sphinx-like stare. Rain is dripping outside the window soaking the fallen oak leaves that are piled up outside like a thickened carpet. They glisten in the night under the street lamp lighting up the trees in the woods behind. The Christmas cacti blooming fuchsia, orange, pinks, hugely, deliriously, at the window heralding the holiday season to come.

[Yours truly, Mira, Susan]

[Kathi, Pat, Ken, Jim]

Wending, winding my way amongst the other 20,000 or so people, through the huge exhibit hall and convention center I could not help but bump into colleagues from way back when, reconnect, refuel, confirm and strengthen values and ideas.

Re-energized to continue with the work of education and advocacy, I arrived home to "much-to-be-done" before the week begins. Travels were smooth, presentations and board work successful.

Since I returned, Ada and I have not left each other’s side.

My friend Susan says, "A move away from Bush is a move towards the people!"

Quote of the day:

In your battle against the rest of the world, I advise you to join the rest of the world. Franz Kafka (received this morning from CCIE)

Vote early, vote often, and vote WELL!

And to all my dear colleagues: See you in Atlanta, later today! Not to mention, Susan, Mira, Pat, Kathi …

Update:

We voted. Hand in hand. Heart to heart. And both shed a tear daring to hope.

Did you?