Day 320

My Ode to Tea

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There is a cup above the rest.  A cup above every cup of coffee, regular and large.

That is my cup.  Tea is in my cup.

Similar but not the same anymore, but worthwhile evermore.  Soy milk is not regular milk, but watching dairy farms changed that.  Veganism is in my cup.

Getting bone cold on a morning like today, rainy and wet and blech, this day that’s so similar to many-an-event (fuck you Toronto Zoo Run 10K and your propensity for feet-soaking).  Tea gives it worth, bone-cold more value in the context of weather.  Warmth is in my cup.

Sweet tea reminds me of my grandmother, her noble attempt to find the soy milk of my dreams.  The sugar changed the taste, made it more warming and full of love, made me smile.  Love is in my cup.

Through exhaustion, not knowing if my shoulder hurts because it is hurt or because it notices the drop-dead fatigue, tea is on my table.  It will let me get through the next couple of classes, brace me until the end of the day, convince me that a day off from my September is needed.  Strength is in my cup.

My cup of tea is veganism, warmth, love, strength.  Tea is in my cup.

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Day 319

6PM:

I wrote about the power of context when it came to literary interpretation before on Days 289 and 290.  I noticed it again today.  The importance of context has impact with regards to what I am reading for my Masters: Leithwood, K. and Duke, D. (1999).  A Century’s Quest to Understand School Leadership.  In Murphy, J. and Seashore, K. (Eds.) Handbook of Research on Educational Administration (Second Edition), pp  45-72. San Francisco:  Jossey-Bass. – A DENSE ARTICLE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

I am sure that five years ago, reading this article would have spoken to my Undergraduate education.  This article would have spoken to my equity lens, spoken to the sociology-inclined parts of me.  I would have thought about cultural capital being valued, particularly in a school with large Korean and Jewish populations, neither of whom follow traditionally Western trends in some areas of their lives.  I still thought about those things now.  But now, there was a lot more.

Now, the parts of the article that spoke to me, spoke to me about the darkness.  The parts of this article on leadership made me connect it to the shit, to the frosty workplace, to the people who do what they WANT to do as opposed to what they NEED to do [AN ASIDE ON THAT NOTE (can that be?): I have been in two meetings this past week where the other person took the cause in their direction, made the agenda THEIR agenda; even after I suggested to use the research we collected to inform our next steps, to collect more research about our population to make our actions matter to the students, they wanted to ignore these; instead, they wanted to do THEIR “good,” claiming to benefit students (and while this is a good thing when it comes to WANTS, i.e. jazz club, NEEDS should be based on doing STUDENTS’ good, being who they need us to be as opposed to strictly being what we want to be, because we lose them – they claim to be fore the students, while neglecting the students themselves), and yes, to the place that makes me want to drink too much.

The parts of the article that spoke loudest to me, made me wonder about feeling like a chess piece, like a pawn that is used until it is no longer useful, sacrificed for the Queen.

Day 318

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Yesterday’s tough conversation, the one without bluffing, the one in which I took chances,  the one I still used to remind and remember the scars to ensure that if the car rental thing happened again (and more importantly, the thoughtlessness and forgetfulness that took my breath away) that I could look back and see value in this one (scars and ghosts of alcoholism past) the one that took their breath away, THAT conversation was evidence.

The universe showed me that THAT conversation was evidence.  The universe showed me this after I ran around after THAT coversation, being the best of me and not the worst of them, going to a colleague’s art show (and yes, immediately helping out by carrying a piece out to someone’s car) and sweating to my grandfather’s Hall of Fame recognition.  It showed me the Don-ness of that conversation and fuck, the Don-ness of the entire day, the entire month, with a freaking can of Coke Zero.

Day 317

8:30AM:

Are my parents ever going to get it?

They rented a car for my brother = fine.

They did not FUCKING ask me about it = not fine.  I wish, out of respect for me – for my explicit, more-than-audible wishes – that they would develop, they would evolve, they would learn.

Perhaps this is one of the things that will be “Daddy Fussy” or “Mommy-ness.”  Perhaps I will have to come to terms with the fact that they will always do this.  That I will have to come to terms with the fact that they will think this is looking out.  But for now, all it does it disrespect what I have asked.  All it does is perpetuate the distrust and divide.  All it does is remind me of the day they paid my brother off for being bipolar/schizophrenic/fucking bat-shit crazy.  All it does is remind me of the placation that occurred with my Dad’s drinking.  For now, all it does is make me feel forgotten, feel neglected, feel unimportant.

Day 314

3PM:

I did not realize the impact it would have on me.

Between the days in a row, the weight loss (apparently), the uppers and downers of caffeine and booze, the working out to exhaustion, the mind-fuckery of working in jobs for which I had no training or help or support (thanks commercial-shooting flaky fuckers), the responsibility of being a Don…

I figured these would be the straw. I figured these would be what broke the camel’s back.

It was getting yelled at for helping, embarrassed in front of my superiors and peers. It was the cuffs. It was punching the wall and crying in the shower. It was not feeling like an apology for the embarrassment was coming, that I mattered enough for an apology. It was being blatantly overlooked as a clear support, a lack of recognition of all that I do around here. It was hugging that student, giving him juice, telling him not to be so “fucking stupid” next time.

It was yesterday.  Yesterday made me feel the exhaustion of September.