My Argument Style Is Confusing

I just had an argument with my sister that solved absolutely nothing.

You know those days where you just want to fight with someone? Apparently today was that day for me. I'm blindingly pissed off, for no real reason. Well, I have a reason.

I feel like some people close to me are subtly telling me they disapprove of my choice to become a teacher. First it was my mother, who just doesn't get it, I don't think. She doesn't see the validity of student teaching. It's a class, so she has to pay for it. But she doesn't want to pay for it. She calls it a rip off and a blatant abuse of power by colleges everywhere. Just another ploy to squeeze money out of every person who comes through their doors as dewey-eyed freshmen and leave abused and disillusioned. In her mind, that's what it is. In mine, student teaching is a rite of passage, and a noble one at that. It's a point of pride that I get to student teach, and Mom is bitching about paying for it. It's the last fucking thing I have to do before I become a real teacher and start doing what I've wanted to do since I was in 3rd grade. Just shut up and do it. Please.

And now it's my sister, who says that my ethics training is bullshit. I've been learning about the line all teachers have to be aware of. You know, the one between them and students. There is quite clearly a line, and that line says this, "TEACHERS CANNOT BE FRIENDS WITH THEIR STUDENTS." Guess what? It's unethical and confusing to students, who will then see those teachers as not authority figures, but glorified teenagers like themselves. And then those teachers will lost their ability to teach those students. The line will be blurred, and then everything gets confusing. Teachers are guardians of their students while they're in school. Not friends, not people to get romantically involved with. Guardians responsible for their well-being. So excuse the fuck out of me for saying that a teacher who blurs this line needs to be reported. News flash: THAT'S WHAT I, AS A TEACHER, AM SUPPOSED TO DO. Oops, did you not learn that? That's right, you aren't learning diddly shit because you don't know what the fuck you want to do.

God, that pisses me off. Just because she likes this stupid ass teacher, I've crossed a line by saying that the relationship she has with two or more of her current students is inappropriate, because it is, my training is worthless. Fuck you, I've worked hard for this shit. I know what I'm talking about, and that teacher knows what she's doing is wrong. Why else would she ask her students to keep it a secret? Students don't go out to dinner with their teachers, no matter how cool they are. They don't then go to that teacher's house to visit. Definitely against the rules. And I love the two students I'm talking about. They're smart kids, and I know nothing untoward is happening. Hopefully, anyway. But they are not only endangering themselves by having an inappropriate relationship with a teacher. They are endangering that teacher as well. This can only end in disaster. Eventually someone will find out, and they'll tell others, and bad things will happen. That teacher can lose her job. Those students can get in serious trouble, and their grades can be brought into question. They could fail that class, possibly have to repeat a grade. And with them so close to graduation, I don't want to see that happen.

My anger is borne out of a concern for everyone invovled. Not because I have an axe to grind with that teacher, who isn't my favorite, I admit. I don't think she should be a teacher because of her tendency to develop inappropriate relationships with her students. This isn't the first time she's done this, and it won't be the last. Students are not potential friends. They are students, and teachers have to treat them as such.

So don't tell me my ethics training is bullshit. Go to college for four years, work as hard as I have, and then tell me my ethics training is bullshit if you still disagree. Until  you've poured your sweat and tears into a degree and a dream the way I have, you don't get to tell me I'm full of shit.

Well, I feel better. I'm going to play some more Sudoku.

Ta, loves.

For The Man In California...

I miss you. Please come home soon so I can see your face and make sure you're okay. I don't like thinking that you could get hurt or shipped out to God knows where to fight a battle that should be over by now.

Come home alive. Please.


.......


So that's for him. Been thinking about him all this week, and I wanted to get this out there. He'll never read it, but it makes me feel better knowing that someone else is thinking about him too. And maybe even adding their prayers to mine?

This wasn't a very happy post. Or a very rant-ish one. But it could just be the most raw one I've written.

Later, my sweet readers.

Sick Blogging

I have a fucking cold. Fuck this. Just fuck all of it. I feel like shit.

I also feel crappy because today marks the one year anniversary of Wyndi's death. Wyndi, as I'm sure none of you are aware, is Dylan's mother. For reference, Dylan is my brother from another mother, but seriously. Anyway, Wyndi was a lovely woman. I hate using past tense verbs for her, because I forget sometimes that she's gone and I like to believe that, when I remember that she's lying in the dirt in a graveyard, she's still with all of us here on earth, just not bodily. But I guess it'll be easier for everyone if I use past tense in regard to her. I find it important, however, to just say that I think she's still here.

Wyndi was an awesome person. The first impression I had of her was not a positive one, but I was helping her son move out, so I see why she was angry at me. Luckily that didn't last long, and we grew to be friends. She was hilarious, and after spending a few days with her, I learned where Dylan got his sense of humor. She always made me laugh when I was having a crappy day.

Though she was funny, she was also serious when needed, and uncompromisingly, captivatingly kind to me. When my grandmother died, she set up a place for me to record a song for her funeral. That simple act meant more to me than I ever expressed to her, or anyone really. She always did stuff like that, and she was genuinely interested in what I was doing up at college. There are so many things I want to say, but I don't have enough grace to express it the way it needs to be expressed. Let's just say that Wyndi was truly one of a kind, will always be missed, and can never be replaced.

Anyway...

So I'm sick and today is the one year anniversary of Wyndi's death and I don't know how to help Dylan through it or how to help myself through it, quite frankly. (Side note: my hamster just walked all over my keyboard, but was too light to write anything.) After Wyndi, I got super depressed and quit eating or hanging out with anyone, generally. It wasn't a fun time for anyone, and all my plans for the year got kinda fucked when Dylan stayed at home instead of returning to Graceland. He had to look after Kody, his little brother, and I get it. I don't hate or condemn him because of his decision. But all my plans got fucked, and I had to reconstruct my year's expectations quickly, along with cope with my recent loss. The road was long and hard and I backpedaled a few times before I got to where I am now.

I won't lie and say I think of Wyndi all the time, when a breeze comes across my face or I'm walking alone down a country road, or some other Hollywood version of dealing with a loss. I don't think of her often. But sometimes I do, and it doesn't hurt anymore. Well, not as much. I miss her, but I'll miss her forever. I wish she was here, but I'll never stop that, nor will I want to. I'm better, but Dylan's not, and I don't know how to help. I find that writing helps me. I don't do it often enough, obviously. I mean, this blog hasn't been updated in at least a month. But it's here when I need to let off steam or waste an hour or any other use this blog has for me. Maybe Dylan's outlet can be spending time with Kody. That, or Tumblr. He loves Tumblr, man.

Anyway, I guess the point of this blog post was to make me feel better, and it has accomplished its purpose. I will now go read some slash. For those of you who don't know what that is, pray you never get sucked into it. It's seriously addicting stuff.

Ta, loves.