As I mentioned a few posts ago, I caved and read Twilight. Yes, the book about teenage vampires. Before I go any further, I want to give you a big SPOILER ALERT!!!!
Not only for Twilight, but also Anne of Green Gables, Pride and Prejudice (though I have no idea how anyone could not know how that one ends), and Crown Duel.
First, I want to cover the good points about the novel (besides the comment about environmentalism I made earlier). Basic premise: girl and vampire fall in love. Vampire has a problem. Edward has given up human blood, but Bella's blood "calls" to him in a way that he has trouble resisting. Also, vampires possess, among other convenient and inconvenient superpowers, amazing strength. Both these facts make it dangerous for Edward to "lose control" when he's with Bella. he flat out tells her that they will never be able to have sex and draws strict physical lines. So the idea of self-control runs strong through the story. In general, the vampires-who-don't-eat-people plotline emphasizes the power of the will over instincts.
Also, at one point in the story, Edward tells Bella about when he reverted to humans for food. He explains that he only hunted the guilty. This move keeps Edward's character pure enough for readers to continue to like him, but it also provides an interesting moral lesson: he gave up hunting humans, because even taking the lives of the guilty took its toll.
There's the good. Here's the rest:
It took me a chapter or two to figure out why the book was hard for me to read. If I took a red pen to Meyer's pages, I could cut down on about 200 of the 500 pages by slashing out unnecessary adjectives and adverbs, along with repetitive descriptions. After being told the temperature of Edward's skin the first 10 times he touches Bella, I've it figured out. I don't need it again. And it didn't take 10 times for me to be sick of his "crooked smile" and "smoldering eyes." I realize things can smolder for a long time, but I'm fairly certain that after 500 pages, any other fire would either have burst into full flame or died. An author can use glances and smiles very effectively: take Jane Austen in Pride and Prejudice, for example. Elizabeth and Darcy have discourses via smiles and looks. But Austen employs them subtly and judiciously.
In fact, I find the comparison between P&P and Twilight insulting to Austen. I would draw a closer parallel with Anne of Green Gables, at least for the Anne-Gilbert storyline. Anne is a ridiculous, over-dramatic girl who can't escape the fact that she and Gilbert are meant for each other. But, unlike Meyer, L.M. Montgomery does this fantastic literary trick through which she gives the hero personality. I didn't expect much from Twilight, but I did expect to fall a little in love with Edward Cullen. Alas, the 11-18 year-old female population has fallen for a man with no personality.
Don't worry though; Meyer has equal problems with her female lead. My apartment-mate last year came home from a creative writing class with a rule: never write from the perspective of the victim. Meyer broke this rule with Bella. Bella has zero agency. She doesn't do anything. In the entire novel she makes 2 decisions, one at the beginning (to move to Forks where she meets Edward) and one at the end (to go to the ballet studio where she nearly dies). Other than that, Edward sweeps her off her feet everywhere and controls everything. Besides the anti-feminist vibes and the dangerous lessons about boundaries, this just isn't interesting to read.
In the "you got it right" category, I hold up Crown Duel, by Sherwood Smith. While not a literary masterpiece, it provides a fun read, because everything that happens directly results from the actions of the teenage heroine. Despite being held prisoner for the majority of the book, she runs the action. In the case of Twilight, Edward calls the shots and has the intriguing internal conflict. A vampire who can't feed on people? A young man who can barely kiss a girl without killing her? A person who thinks he will be the cause of his true love's death? I want to go inside his head! Why are we kept out? That's where the real story resides.
Maybe because I'm not in anyone valuable's head, I have one final critique: I just don't care. Bella values love between her and Edward as the Supreme Good, and frankly I'm not convinced. Call me a cynic (I am) but True Love just doesn't motive me that much. And Meyer never convinced me that Edward + Bella = more than a high school romance. As a result, the whole story comes off as a high school romance thrown out of proportion and Bella as reckless and selfish.
I could have a lot more to say, but I tried to keep this commentary literarily focused; anything else to add would be rant. If you desire cultural literacy, consider Twilight. If not, that's 500 pages of your life you can never get back.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
We Hold These Truths...
"...to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
Easy, right? The Declaration of Independence (not the first sentence, which begins, "When in the course of human events..."), Thomas Jefferson, the Enlightenment, all that good stuff. They were passionate on these things called "rights" at that point in time.
We still care about them. It only makes sense. But in my final year at William and Mary, I began to ask myself the simple question: from where do rights originate and for whom do they exist?
The Declaration of Independence states quite clearly that the rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness come from a higher authority and exist for everyone. Okay. Most people would agree on the first count: you have the right to life unless you do something awful enough to forfeit it. Now people will define "life" differently and have different ideas on what might cause forfeiture, but there's general consensus to an extend. For example, most people do not consider shoplifting as forfeiting right to life. Same thing goes for liberty, with more nuanced ideas about what causes forfeiture. Pursuit of happiness... I don't have a 100% firm grasp on what good ol' TJ meant by this, so I'm going to leave it for a moment.
We recognize rights outside those three. Freedom of speech, assembly, religion; the right to a speedy trial; freedom from torture; racial, gender, etc non-discrimination. Here, it's less clear where they originate. God? The government? The UN? Common consensus?
I started asking these questions in relation to my immigration courses, because of the related question: Who holds these rights? Citizens? Human beings? Resident aliens? Native-born citizens? Adults? People?
I found myself asking the same questions about social rights in a different contexts. Unlike the political and human rights listed above, social rights are more disputed in US society. Do we have a right to health care? It's a hot debate. What about an education? I would argue that we more or less recognize the right to an education. Hence, all these public schools.
Working at a school filled with children from low-income homes, the question of who holds the right to an education becomes crucial. Enrollment in the school depends on payments; payments depend on Mama and Daddy. Success in school depends on regular attendance. Transportation to and from school depends on Mama and Daddy. In getting ready for the school year, I kept thinking about a hypothetical child who wants this education very badly, but whose parents don't put in the same effort.
Who has the right to an education? The parent, or the child? Especially when it comes to scholarship money -- who should be awarded the scholarship and given the responsibilities necessary to maintain it? Does this change public versus private? (We're a "Catholic" school.)
(On a slight side note, this pertains to the question of immigration a little too -- should we care about a child's parents to enroll the child in school? Should there even be a question of "do the children of undocumented workers get to attend public school?)
Easy, right? The Declaration of Independence (not the first sentence, which begins, "When in the course of human events..."), Thomas Jefferson, the Enlightenment, all that good stuff. They were passionate on these things called "rights" at that point in time.
We still care about them. It only makes sense. But in my final year at William and Mary, I began to ask myself the simple question: from where do rights originate and for whom do they exist?
The Declaration of Independence states quite clearly that the rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness come from a higher authority and exist for everyone. Okay. Most people would agree on the first count: you have the right to life unless you do something awful enough to forfeit it. Now people will define "life" differently and have different ideas on what might cause forfeiture, but there's general consensus to an extend. For example, most people do not consider shoplifting as forfeiting right to life. Same thing goes for liberty, with more nuanced ideas about what causes forfeiture. Pursuit of happiness... I don't have a 100% firm grasp on what good ol' TJ meant by this, so I'm going to leave it for a moment.
We recognize rights outside those three. Freedom of speech, assembly, religion; the right to a speedy trial; freedom from torture; racial, gender, etc non-discrimination. Here, it's less clear where they originate. God? The government? The UN? Common consensus?
I started asking these questions in relation to my immigration courses, because of the related question: Who holds these rights? Citizens? Human beings? Resident aliens? Native-born citizens? Adults? People?
I found myself asking the same questions about social rights in a different contexts. Unlike the political and human rights listed above, social rights are more disputed in US society. Do we have a right to health care? It's a hot debate. What about an education? I would argue that we more or less recognize the right to an education. Hence, all these public schools.
Working at a school filled with children from low-income homes, the question of who holds the right to an education becomes crucial. Enrollment in the school depends on payments; payments depend on Mama and Daddy. Success in school depends on regular attendance. Transportation to and from school depends on Mama and Daddy. In getting ready for the school year, I kept thinking about a hypothetical child who wants this education very badly, but whose parents don't put in the same effort.
Who has the right to an education? The parent, or the child? Especially when it comes to scholarship money -- who should be awarded the scholarship and given the responsibilities necessary to maintain it? Does this change public versus private? (We're a "Catholic" school.)
(On a slight side note, this pertains to the question of immigration a little too -- should we care about a child's parents to enroll the child in school? Should there even be a question of "do the children of undocumented workers get to attend public school?)
Miss Z
That's what the kids call me. I told some of them my last name, they made a face -- you expect us to say what?! -- and that was that. I became Ms. Z from day one.
I haven't really had a "typical day" yet, because various parts of school just haven't started yet. Monday's schedule was all turned around; Tuesday was still slightly confused. Now we're more into the swing of things, but none of "ancillary" classes (what we called "specials" when I was in school) have started yet, so we have an awkward hour each day.
But, hypothetically, should a typical day happen, here's what it would look like:
I haven't really had a "typical day" yet, because various parts of school just haven't started yet. Monday's schedule was all turned around; Tuesday was still slightly confused. Now we're more into the swing of things, but none of "ancillary" classes (what we called "specials" when I was in school) have started yet, so we have an awkward hour each day.
But, hypothetically, should a typical day happen, here's what it would look like:
- Get to school around 7:30. Settle my things, talk to other teachers, maybe watch the students play outside.
- Help everyone get to their classroom without killing/injuring their classmates.
- Collect papers to be copied/attendance from teacher. Make copies for the next hour/chat with whomever is in the office.
- Poke into whichever classroom needs me. Or, sit and observe the English teacher.
- Lunch/free time/awkward hour. My break generally comes in here.
- Practice math test. Look stern, hand out papers, and say, "If there is any talking in this room, I will take your paper and you will receive a zero." Stalk through the room, glaring at the slightest sound. I have never seen more whispering and blatant answer sharing than on the first day, so I am mean.
- Break.
- "Extended day" = extra time for school. It's part of the "Nativity Model."
- Lead a reading group, with the help of Ana. I try to make this time as interactive as I can while still having some sort of consistency with the other reading groups. Sometimes we have sit-down-and-work-silently time, however, because they won't listen.
- Lead MUN or supervise tutors from local high schools for the second "elective" block of the extended day.
- Send them all home, find Ana, and bolt.
Monday, August 24, 2009
First Day
Today, school started. I arrived to work at the unholy hour of 7:30am and remembered why I was always tired at school. The first day, at least, I had enough adrenaline from nerves to keep me awake the entire day. I might give my self a headache and a stomachache, but I would not fall asleep!
I ended up spending most of today in one of three places: the 8th grade room, observing; the office, making copies; and the basement, signing students up for electives. I did take a brief excursion to the kindergarten room to return some students to their class when a slight scuffle broke out among them. The child had some violent tendencies and some violent words, and the worst of it is that his sort of behavior doesn't come from a vacuum. For a kindergartner to say and do what this child said and did, he must have learned it somewhere. It breaks my heart.
Other than that, I am still processing today. I came to know again that middle school students are old enough to think, but young enough for my age to lend some semblance of authority. Boys are show-offs, girls have some 'tude. I have no idea how this year will go, but I at least know what my students look like.
Also, I realized again how much I love reading, writing, grammar, and all the fun language arts bits and pieces. I'm excited for these students to learn English! Whether they want to or not.
I ended up spending most of today in one of three places: the 8th grade room, observing; the office, making copies; and the basement, signing students up for electives. I did take a brief excursion to the kindergarten room to return some students to their class when a slight scuffle broke out among them. The child had some violent tendencies and some violent words, and the worst of it is that his sort of behavior doesn't come from a vacuum. For a kindergartner to say and do what this child said and did, he must have learned it somewhere. It breaks my heart.
Other than that, I am still processing today. I came to know again that middle school students are old enough to think, but young enough for my age to lend some semblance of authority. Boys are show-offs, girls have some 'tude. I have no idea how this year will go, but I at least know what my students look like.
Also, I realized again how much I love reading, writing, grammar, and all the fun language arts bits and pieces. I'm excited for these students to learn English! Whether they want to or not.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Panda Jokes
I just finished reading Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation (Lynne Truss). I can't believe it took me this far into life to read it. It is a must-add to my library.
Aside from offering me my favorite quote about punctuation ("There are people who embrace the Oxford comma and people who don't, and I'll just say this: never get between these people when drink has been taken."), Truss presented punctuation in a manner that made me proud to be what she called a "stickler." I have to admit, so many of the jokes hit home with me that I didn't understand how it became a best-seller. If there are so many people who enjoy this book, how can so many grammatical mistakes exist? Truss's voice and her humor probably draw in more readers than her subject matter of different approaches to commas and apostrophes on poles.
Although I am decently acquainted with the rules of punctuation that Truss discussed, I did not find the book reiterative; its purpose was to describe punctuation, rather than dictate its usage. If some of that description comes in the form of where quotation marks out to be placed, so be it. I have fun learning that colons used to be set apart with extra spaces (like this : see?) or that Henry Denham (a 16th century printer) wanted to use the mirror image of a question mark to indicate a rhetorical question. And while Truss has a thing for apostrophes, I am conducting a no-longer-so-secret love affair with the semicolon. She bemoans its falling from style; I rejoice whenever I can use one, while trying very very hard not to overuse them.
Truss ends her book crying doom for punctuation and blaming it on the Internet/texting. I generally get fed up with Doomsday predictions, but in this case, she tempered it with enough appreciation for descriptivism that I could stomach it. I am more than ready to join her army of Sharpie-armed punctuation vigilantes and might have to write a grammatical-based sequel to train my followers.
Aside from offering me my favorite quote about punctuation ("There are people who embrace the Oxford comma and people who don't, and I'll just say this: never get between these people when drink has been taken."), Truss presented punctuation in a manner that made me proud to be what she called a "stickler." I have to admit, so many of the jokes hit home with me that I didn't understand how it became a best-seller. If there are so many people who enjoy this book, how can so many grammatical mistakes exist? Truss's voice and her humor probably draw in more readers than her subject matter of different approaches to commas and apostrophes on poles.
Although I am decently acquainted with the rules of punctuation that Truss discussed, I did not find the book reiterative; its purpose was to describe punctuation, rather than dictate its usage. If some of that description comes in the form of where quotation marks out to be placed, so be it. I have fun learning that colons used to be set apart with extra spaces (like this : see?) or that Henry Denham (a 16th century printer) wanted to use the mirror image of a question mark to indicate a rhetorical question. And while Truss has a thing for apostrophes, I am conducting a no-longer-so-secret love affair with the semicolon. She bemoans its falling from style; I rejoice whenever I can use one, while trying very very hard not to overuse them.
Truss ends her book crying doom for punctuation and blaming it on the Internet/texting. I generally get fed up with Doomsday predictions, but in this case, she tempered it with enough appreciation for descriptivism that I could stomach it. I am more than ready to join her army of Sharpie-armed punctuation vigilantes and might have to write a grammatical-based sequel to train my followers.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Shameless Plug
I have a few postcards that I have received from friends, and I want to start a postcard wall to cover some of the white space in my room. Will you send me one?
Friday, August 21, 2009
And Stay Out!
Imagine that you've spent 15 years of your life in a highly structured institution. Imagine that you spent many years of your growing up in a controlled atmosphere, with its own set of social rules and ways of doing things. Imagine that most of what you know about the world comes from the filter of this institution.
Imagine that they let you out.
How do you know what to do and where to go from here? How do you know how to navigate the complexities of the financial and employment world, let alone the subtleties and nuances of the social world? How do you know who you are without the support of the institution?
No, I'm not speaking of graduating school and being thrown into the real world, though between freshman move-in at W&M and SLU, I had a "holy crap I'm not a student anymore!" moment. No; I am referring to being released from prison/paroled.
Today, I had dinner with a group from a ministry in the St. Vincent de Paul Society (SVDP). The ministry focuses on reintegrating people into society after they are released from prison. Part of this ministry operates by creating social situations for such people to re-learn social skills and create positive networks -- by having dinner with the community.
The room was mostly filled with men trying to stay out and religious, but other SVDP members floated around, and all of the Six Pack made it. I spent most of the dinner talking to two men, one of whom, David (not really, of course), had plans to go to school in January. We discussed ideas, which of course I loved, ranging from religion to history to politics to movie and books. He wants to major in philosophy, and he certainly has the type of mind to love it. David told me he'd been in prison for nearly 15 years and that he'd been in his early teens when he went in.
Now, he wants to stay out of prison, have a family, have a good life. As did everyone there, which inspired me so much.
Imagine that they let you out.
How do you know what to do and where to go from here? How do you know how to navigate the complexities of the financial and employment world, let alone the subtleties and nuances of the social world? How do you know who you are without the support of the institution?
No, I'm not speaking of graduating school and being thrown into the real world, though between freshman move-in at W&M and SLU, I had a "holy crap I'm not a student anymore!" moment. No; I am referring to being released from prison/paroled.
Today, I had dinner with a group from a ministry in the St. Vincent de Paul Society (SVDP). The ministry focuses on reintegrating people into society after they are released from prison. Part of this ministry operates by creating social situations for such people to re-learn social skills and create positive networks -- by having dinner with the community.
The room was mostly filled with men trying to stay out and religious, but other SVDP members floated around, and all of the Six Pack made it. I spent most of the dinner talking to two men, one of whom, David (not really, of course), had plans to go to school in January. We discussed ideas, which of course I loved, ranging from religion to history to politics to movie and books. He wants to major in philosophy, and he certainly has the type of mind to love it. David told me he'd been in prison for nearly 15 years and that he'd been in his early teens when he went in.
Now, he wants to stay out of prison, have a family, have a good life. As did everyone there, which inspired me so much.
Ad Hominem
Well, actually, ad vampirum, or something like that.
I started reading Twilight (hold your judgement, please... I'm about to start working with middle schoolers!) and discovered that though I cannot stand most of the characters, there is at least one amazing line in the first hundred pages (I give a bit of context too):
"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" [Edward asks Bella.]
"I don't see how that is any of your business." [Bella answers.]
"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business." [BEST VAMPIRE LINE EVER!]
I realize its an ad hominem argument that can backfire if my 4 readers, like myself, are skeptical of this Twilight business, but I enjoyed it.
I started reading Twilight (hold your judgement, please... I'm about to start working with middle schoolers!) and discovered that though I cannot stand most of the characters, there is at least one amazing line in the first hundred pages (I give a bit of context too):
"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" [Edward asks Bella.]
"I don't see how that is any of your business." [Bella answers.]
"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business." [BEST VAMPIRE LINE EVER!]
I realize its an ad hominem argument that can backfire if my 4 readers, like myself, are skeptical of this Twilight business, but I enjoyed it.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Maafa, Reprised
The Metro Christian Worship Center screened Maafa 21 yesterday. Since that church happens to be in St. Louis, I happened to be there and my Vincentian community happened to join.
The environment was radically different from the last viewing I attended. To start with, outside of the four from my group, I could count the number of white people on one hand. Rather than avowed pro-life activist, political leaders, interns, and spokespeople, the audience consisted of congregants and neighbors. I sat with five girls whom I have known only two and a half weeks, though I would go home with them at night, instead of a group of coworkers already sold on the movie and its ideas. I knew what to expect. I had a notebook and a pen to catch names, dates, and numbers, which I had not had before.
Thankfully, the pastor of the church stopped the video during the final scene, a rousing sermon from an African-American pastor, urging his people to get involved. Instead, he told the crowd about his own experience with pro-choice politicians who supported the elimination of poor African-Americans.
The reception was strong and encouraging -- people wanted to know what to do. The one disappointment of the night was the fact that no one did anything to harvest that energy: at an event like that, you should keep track of who comes (they are a future resource) and have specific and immediate actions which they can take.
The environment was radically different from the last viewing I attended. To start with, outside of the four from my group, I could count the number of white people on one hand. Rather than avowed pro-life activist, political leaders, interns, and spokespeople, the audience consisted of congregants and neighbors. I sat with five girls whom I have known only two and a half weeks, though I would go home with them at night, instead of a group of coworkers already sold on the movie and its ideas. I knew what to expect. I had a notebook and a pen to catch names, dates, and numbers, which I had not had before.
Thankfully, the pastor of the church stopped the video during the final scene, a rousing sermon from an African-American pastor, urging his people to get involved. Instead, he told the crowd about his own experience with pro-choice politicians who supported the elimination of poor African-Americans.
The reception was strong and encouraging -- people wanted to know what to do. The one disappointment of the night was the fact that no one did anything to harvest that energy: at an event like that, you should keep track of who comes (they are a future resource) and have specific and immediate actions which they can take.
Beauty from Ashes
This week, we started in-services at school. When I spoke with the assistant principal this summer, I thought that the school had a solid direction and a system in place to get there. During our first week there, Ana and I were constantly surprised by the disorder, confusion, and general unprofessionalism we found in the way things had been done, although the administration we met acted very professionally. These past few days, I have had the chance, by listening to teachers talk, to hear more of the story of the school.
Before this year, the administration governed the school laxly, leading to academic practices that were not the best. The high turnover in admin didn't help.
Problem: people are socialized by habit to expect the world to work a certain way. When a school has had one set of procedures, people (parents, students, teachers) expect it to continue to work that way. Change causes anger, confusion, and chaos, even if it is good change, because not everyone is on board.
On the teacher end, our new principal spent most of the in-service time thus far making sure that he and the faculty were on the same plane when it comes to how the school and classes should work.
On the parent and student end, a lot of re-socialization is about to happen starting Monday.
Before this year, the administration governed the school laxly, leading to academic practices that were not the best. The high turnover in admin didn't help.
Problem: people are socialized by habit to expect the world to work a certain way. When a school has had one set of procedures, people (parents, students, teachers) expect it to continue to work that way. Change causes anger, confusion, and chaos, even if it is good change, because not everyone is on board.
On the teacher end, our new principal spent most of the in-service time thus far making sure that he and the faculty were on the same plane when it comes to how the school and classes should work.
On the parent and student end, a lot of re-socialization is about to happen starting Monday.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Scientology and Dianetics
Yesterday after the Botanical Garden, the other car saw a sign outside the local Scientology building: "Open House." I do believe that the proper response to such a sign is entry.
We got a brief tour of the building that covered almost none of the space. The building is good-sized, and we saw the entry and a few small rooms. The man who spoke with us gave us some brief explanations of Scientology, played a snippet of an L. Ron Hubbard lecture, and answered questions that we had.
In a nutshell, I learned: L. Ron Hubbard founded Scientology by learning various disciplines and choosing what worked/made sense in each of them. The human being has three distinct parts or aspects (I'm not sure what their word for it is): the body, mind, and spirit. The body acts as a machine; the mind functions as the "switchboard"; and the spirit houses you. When something goes wrong in a person's life, this means that something has gone wrong with the mind, because the spirit (read: person) is essentially good and the body (it seemed to me) is a perfect machine. To solve anything from behavioral problems to relational issues to physical illness, one must discover what has gone wrong with the mind. Because the mind controls the body, we can fix anything by controlling the mind in the proper way.
The "tour guide" answered my questions about the differences between physical disorders and mental ones by explaining that most illnesses are psychosomatic and if we can deal with the mind part, the body part will go more smoothly. Okay. But it did not make sense to me that any mental illness/disorder (from what I gathered) could be solved completely through the mind, but some of other problems (broken bone, for instance) would need to be addressed physically as well as with the mind.
As we talked longer, we also got into questions of death. Since we are our spirits, we never actually die; we leave our bodies. Sounds like a lot of religions (though Catholicism does believe in the resurrected body, our bodies do actually die; we don't). Our spirits and our minds go on to find another body -- "a maternity ward is a good place for this," according to our guide. Which raised my pro-life hackles. Yet he also talked about how fetuses and "unborn children" (!) experience pain, and this can lead to body/mind problems later on. When I confronted this inconsistency, he hedged a bit, so I never got a straight answer on when or how a spirit takes on a new body.
When our spirit and mind find a new body, our mind retains the experiences from the previous life/lives. In fact, our mind simply records every experience we ever have, whether we consciously remember it or not. The proof? Eastern religions, and people who remember past lives.
I thought I had conceptualized the body/mind/spirit connection until we got into death, and then I became highly confused about how the three are connected. To make matters more confusing, more people exist now than did 200 years ago. Does this mean new spirits are being created? How does this happen?
Our guide answered that yes, new spirits do come into being, and the process is 1) fascinating; 2) easy to explain/understand; and 3) avoids the whole "Creator" question. He couldn't explain it as well as L. Ron Hubbard, and he could tell us exactly where in L. Ron Hubbard's lecture series to find it. In the second lecture of "Golden Dawn." He couldn't remember the name.
He invited us to the lecture series on Wednesday nights for $15 a piece and Dianetics workshops on weekends for $100. Other than costing approximately what I have for food in a month, the price bothers me on principle. If you have the truth that will help other people in so many ways, why don't you want to share it with everyone, not just those with money?
I do want to go back, however. I have more questions, so I can understand why people believe this philosophy/religion. I also feel that, because it is based so much on science and logic, if a Scientologist listens hard enough to himself, he'll start to see the inconsistencies.
Then again, people claim inconsistencies in my religion, and I just enjoy the challenge of figuring out why it seems that way but isn't.
We got a brief tour of the building that covered almost none of the space. The building is good-sized, and we saw the entry and a few small rooms. The man who spoke with us gave us some brief explanations of Scientology, played a snippet of an L. Ron Hubbard lecture, and answered questions that we had.
In a nutshell, I learned: L. Ron Hubbard founded Scientology by learning various disciplines and choosing what worked/made sense in each of them. The human being has three distinct parts or aspects (I'm not sure what their word for it is): the body, mind, and spirit. The body acts as a machine; the mind functions as the "switchboard"; and the spirit houses you. When something goes wrong in a person's life, this means that something has gone wrong with the mind, because the spirit (read: person) is essentially good and the body (it seemed to me) is a perfect machine. To solve anything from behavioral problems to relational issues to physical illness, one must discover what has gone wrong with the mind. Because the mind controls the body, we can fix anything by controlling the mind in the proper way.
The "tour guide" answered my questions about the differences between physical disorders and mental ones by explaining that most illnesses are psychosomatic and if we can deal with the mind part, the body part will go more smoothly. Okay. But it did not make sense to me that any mental illness/disorder (from what I gathered) could be solved completely through the mind, but some of other problems (broken bone, for instance) would need to be addressed physically as well as with the mind.
As we talked longer, we also got into questions of death. Since we are our spirits, we never actually die; we leave our bodies. Sounds like a lot of religions (though Catholicism does believe in the resurrected body, our bodies do actually die; we don't). Our spirits and our minds go on to find another body -- "a maternity ward is a good place for this," according to our guide. Which raised my pro-life hackles. Yet he also talked about how fetuses and "unborn children" (!) experience pain, and this can lead to body/mind problems later on. When I confronted this inconsistency, he hedged a bit, so I never got a straight answer on when or how a spirit takes on a new body.
When our spirit and mind find a new body, our mind retains the experiences from the previous life/lives. In fact, our mind simply records every experience we ever have, whether we consciously remember it or not. The proof? Eastern religions, and people who remember past lives.
I thought I had conceptualized the body/mind/spirit connection until we got into death, and then I became highly confused about how the three are connected. To make matters more confusing, more people exist now than did 200 years ago. Does this mean new spirits are being created? How does this happen?
Our guide answered that yes, new spirits do come into being, and the process is 1) fascinating; 2) easy to explain/understand; and 3) avoids the whole "Creator" question. He couldn't explain it as well as L. Ron Hubbard, and he could tell us exactly where in L. Ron Hubbard's lecture series to find it. In the second lecture of "Golden Dawn." He couldn't remember the name.
He invited us to the lecture series on Wednesday nights for $15 a piece and Dianetics workshops on weekends for $100. Other than costing approximately what I have for food in a month, the price bothers me on principle. If you have the truth that will help other people in so many ways, why don't you want to share it with everyone, not just those with money?
I do want to go back, however. I have more questions, so I can understand why people believe this philosophy/religion. I also feel that, because it is based so much on science and logic, if a Scientologist listens hard enough to himself, he'll start to see the inconsistencies.
Then again, people claim inconsistencies in my religion, and I just enjoy the challenge of figuring out why it seems that way but isn't.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Botanical Garden
Next to our commissioning Mass, the strongest religious experience I've had in St. Louis occurred today. Not in a church, however, but outside, in the splendor of God's creation. I swear I was in heaven or at least on retreat, and I really did feel like I should dip my fingers in holy water on the way out.
The landscapers for the Garden worked miracles in a variety of forms and fashions, from the rose garden to the hosta walkway to the ponds with blown glass and water lilies. Temperature moderated greenhouses of various shapes and sizes dotted the Garden to bring climates such as rain forest and Mediterranean into the middle of the United States. In this case, a picture is worth a thousand words, so I will spare my 4 faithful readers the runaway effusions and simply post photos as soon as I download my entire memory card and figure out which of the hundred you will care to see.
The landscapers for the Garden worked miracles in a variety of forms and fashions, from the rose garden to the hosta walkway to the ponds with blown glass and water lilies. Temperature moderated greenhouses of various shapes and sizes dotted the Garden to bring climates such as rain forest and Mediterranean into the middle of the United States. In this case, a picture is worth a thousand words, so I will spare my 4 faithful readers the runaway effusions and simply post photos as soon as I download my entire memory card and figure out which of the hundred you will care to see.
The Spoils of Poynton
Today, I went to the Botanical Garden. They will be the next post. In the Gardens we found a Victorian house that belonged to Henry Shaw, who owned the land prior to the existence of the Garden. I have to admit that I did not pay much attention to the history, or exactly what he did for Missouri/the Botanical Garden, but I enjoyed talking to the docent upstairs, who showed us the bedrooms.
She pointed out ornate candlesticks, decorated boxes, and elaborate wallpaper, explaining that Victorians loved stuff. I immediately was transported back to my Henry James seminar, and a tiny little book called, The Spoils of Poynton. The other James we read deal with people's relationships with self or others; this novel centered around people's relationship to their things, specifically, the "spoils" that resided at the estate of Poynton. As the novel progresses, you discover that several of the characters care more about the material objects in the novel then the other characters who are their sons, husbands, and friends.
The parallel startled me as we stared at the rooms and were shown figurines, wax seal sets, books, opera clothing, mini-green houses, beds, clocks, and other object that Shaw owned and displayed to show his wealth.
She pointed out ornate candlesticks, decorated boxes, and elaborate wallpaper, explaining that Victorians loved stuff. I immediately was transported back to my Henry James seminar, and a tiny little book called, The Spoils of Poynton. The other James we read deal with people's relationships with self or others; this novel centered around people's relationship to their things, specifically, the "spoils" that resided at the estate of Poynton. As the novel progresses, you discover that several of the characters care more about the material objects in the novel then the other characters who are their sons, husbands, and friends.
The parallel startled me as we stared at the rooms and were shown figurines, wax seal sets, books, opera clothing, mini-green houses, beds, clocks, and other object that Shaw owned and displayed to show his wealth.
Poles and Asians
Due to an epic shopping trip on Tuesday, keeping us out of the house until 9pm, we volunteers took a half day today. That meant that in addition to eating lunch with Byrd, who works three minutes down the road from me, I got to 1) get home EARLY; 2) take a nap; 3) go running; and 4) make pierogi!
Pierogi are Polish dumplings, and pretty much every Polish family with access to the internet has posted their own recipe online. Luckily, I know mine own family's well enough that I follow it from memory. It contains measurements such as "one pressure-cooker-ful" and lots of "to taste," but as long as you know what you're tasting, it works wonders. By the time we got to the stuffing part, I had two housemates home and eager to help in the kitchen. I warned them of my mother's "Polish blood" theory (you need Polish blood to make them) and taught them how to stuff and seal the dumplings. I think the theory mostly applies to the making of the dough -- though my grandmother says the trick is to mix it with your hands.
My housemates made the prettiest pierogi of anyone I've ever taught. And, with the exception of one I made, they held together in the water! Meemaw told me that she had practice with Asian dumplings.
We also cooked up some kielbasa, because this house believes in meat. I suggested condiment pairings: sour cream and applesauce for the pierogi, and horseradish or mustard for the kielbasa. No one took me up on the horseradish, but Em told me that the best combination was kielbasa + mustard + pierogi + sour cream + applesauce all in one bite. If it weren't a Friday, I would have tried -- it looked delicious!
Pierogi are Polish dumplings, and pretty much every Polish family with access to the internet has posted their own recipe online. Luckily, I know mine own family's well enough that I follow it from memory. It contains measurements such as "one pressure-cooker-ful" and lots of "to taste," but as long as you know what you're tasting, it works wonders. By the time we got to the stuffing part, I had two housemates home and eager to help in the kitchen. I warned them of my mother's "Polish blood" theory (you need Polish blood to make them) and taught them how to stuff and seal the dumplings. I think the theory mostly applies to the making of the dough -- though my grandmother says the trick is to mix it with your hands.
My housemates made the prettiest pierogi of anyone I've ever taught. And, with the exception of one I made, they held together in the water! Meemaw told me that she had practice with Asian dumplings.
We also cooked up some kielbasa, because this house believes in meat. I suggested condiment pairings: sour cream and applesauce for the pierogi, and horseradish or mustard for the kielbasa. No one took me up on the horseradish, but Em told me that the best combination was kielbasa + mustard + pierogi + sour cream + applesauce all in one bite. If it weren't a Friday, I would have tried -- it looked delicious!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
On Days I Feel Like My Mother
Today I arranged a brightly colored elementary school classroom, including a plastic food and a library. After I got home from school, I made myself a cup of decaf black tea and cooked waffles for dinner. I used some whole wheat flour and hoped that the others wouldn't notice. I looked for some sort of fruit and put applesauce on the table. During dinner, I kept hopping up to check on the waffle iron and add more batter; when I put the leftovers the fridge, I hoped that people would actually eat them so they would not go to waste.
It was a good day.
I have spent the past two days working with Ana and our Marianist coworker (hereafter "Mari") setting up the room for after school care. We lost our license, and, looking at what we had and how it was arranged, I can understand why. What I can't understand is how we flew under the radar so long, to have had the license to start with.
As it is, we repainted a new after care classroom, Ana and Mari straightened out some paper work, and then we went shopping! State regulations require 40 toys per 10 children. They list 8 categories of toys and 4 of each 40 need to fill each category. We have a K-8 and of course toys should be age appropriate. If we are licensed, we can have up to 120 children; we were told to prep for 114. In case you are wondering, that adds up to 456 toys. Approximately 45 of each category.
So we went on an epic quest for toys. We filled a shopping cart at Walmart (it broke our hearts), searched for a Michael's that apparently does not exist -- as well as a Big Lots and Dollar Tree that just aren't. We bought out the kid's book section at a Goodwill -- Mari and I shopped until Ana told us that we couldn't buy any more. Then we went back to school, where the Vice Principal told us we'd barely made a dent. So we went off again, to Target and in pursuit of a new Michael's, a K-B Toys, and a Toys-R-Us. By the end of the night, Ana and I had found the Target, bought two shopping carts worth of toys, and spent nearly $1000 on toys.
Today, the inspector from the state looked at our spoils and said, "That's a good start."
An interesting note on race: our school is entirely African-American. When we toured it last week, one of the teachers mentioned that they wanted books for their library with African-American protagonists. Something I don't think about much. But when we were at Goodwill, there just weren't any. And when we were at Target, we literally picked up every toy from the shelves that had a figure with dark skin. I think we picked up three. Beach Barbie wasn't wearing much clothing, but we bought her some new clothes so she can be modest and set a good example for the girls.
It was a good day.
I have spent the past two days working with Ana and our Marianist coworker (hereafter "Mari") setting up the room for after school care. We lost our license, and, looking at what we had and how it was arranged, I can understand why. What I can't understand is how we flew under the radar so long, to have had the license to start with.
As it is, we repainted a new after care classroom, Ana and Mari straightened out some paper work, and then we went shopping! State regulations require 40 toys per 10 children. They list 8 categories of toys and 4 of each 40 need to fill each category. We have a K-8 and of course toys should be age appropriate. If we are licensed, we can have up to 120 children; we were told to prep for 114. In case you are wondering, that adds up to 456 toys. Approximately 45 of each category.
So we went on an epic quest for toys. We filled a shopping cart at Walmart (it broke our hearts), searched for a Michael's that apparently does not exist -- as well as a Big Lots and Dollar Tree that just aren't. We bought out the kid's book section at a Goodwill -- Mari and I shopped until Ana told us that we couldn't buy any more. Then we went back to school, where the Vice Principal told us we'd barely made a dent. So we went off again, to Target and in pursuit of a new Michael's, a K-B Toys, and a Toys-R-Us. By the end of the night, Ana and I had found the Target, bought two shopping carts worth of toys, and spent nearly $1000 on toys.
Today, the inspector from the state looked at our spoils and said, "That's a good start."
An interesting note on race: our school is entirely African-American. When we toured it last week, one of the teachers mentioned that they wanted books for their library with African-American protagonists. Something I don't think about much. But when we were at Goodwill, there just weren't any. And when we were at Target, we literally picked up every toy from the shelves that had a figure with dark skin. I think we picked up three. Beach Barbie wasn't wearing much clothing, but we bought her some new clothes so she can be modest and set a good example for the girls.
Names
One day, I googled my name. To my surprise, in addition to the 5th grade science fair (no longer there) and articles on rowing (still there), I came across a friend's blog. There was my full name, sitting in the middle of her musings. She didn't say anything bad about me (in fact, she was more complimentary than I deserved), but it still weirded me out. Thus, I have a no name policy.
However, the more I talk about my life here, the more confusing "one volunteer" and "a housemate" and "this other teacher" will get.
So here, I will introduce you to my housemates. We have a few "Indian Names":
However, the more I talk about my life here, the more confusing "one volunteer" and "a housemate" and "this other teacher" will get.
So here, I will introduce you to my housemates. We have a few "Indian Names":
- "Meemaw", the oldest of us, jokingly our "granny."
- "Anaconda Long-Spider", here after known as Ana, so that you can take stories seriously. We played Catchphrase a few nights ago. That should be enough explanation.
- "I-Eat-Big-Meat", who likes meat. I don't, so there's a little bit of a contrast here. She'll be Em.
- The next one I won't post online, but right now, she is demanding a birdhouse with a wrap-around porch. Her name will be Byrd. (I like the "y.")
- We're missing one Indian name, but I'll call her Triss. It makes sense in my head.
- It's not fair to post their names without mine. I am "Jumps-At-Loud-Noises." I do.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sent to the Principal's Office
Today, I went to school for the first day! We arrived at 9am to meet the principal for the first time, get re-introduced to the office staff, and bumble around as the administration tried to find something for three "interns" to do for a week before our supervising teachers arrive.
Points of clarifications: We are not technically interns, but it is as close to anything else for a description of our work today. Three = myself + one housemate + one Marianist volunteer. None of us are teachers by ministry or by trade, but we're all going to try really hard.
I may have mentioned in a previous post how much the staff and faculty impressed me last time I was at the school, and they continued to make a positive impact today. The new principal exudes competency. I haven't seen enough to know if the impression he made was true, but presentation is half the battle. I didn't have very much interaction with him, but I think I'm going to like him and enjoy working under him.
As for today, the other two volunteers filed paperwork and analyzed claims for free and reduced lunches. Somewhere around 90% of the school is on free/reduced lunch, and seeing the numbers of reported income lined up against dependents broke my heart. Luckily for me, I did not spend all day looking at them. I spent my day (get ready for a surprise) writing and editing!
After spending 2 months over the summer writing and editing, with some research thrown in, I would not have believed anyone who told me I would have fun on a day where I did nothing but edit a student handbook. I really must be cut out to be some sort of a writer, because I had a ball. Time flew. I didn't want to leave it when we went home. It made me cringe when I had to follow the archdiocese's wording when I could think of a more efficient (and probably more open to legal interpretation) way to say it.
Most of the house, however, jumped right into work today, and between that and ripples from yesterday misadventures into one of the less safe parts of St. Louis, emotions were slightly fragile. We remedied this with a trip to Home Depot to make keys (where the key-cutter extraordinaire teased some blonde girl with confusing math) and a stop at McDonald's for some economically thrifty dessert.
Points of clarifications: We are not technically interns, but it is as close to anything else for a description of our work today. Three = myself + one housemate + one Marianist volunteer. None of us are teachers by ministry or by trade, but we're all going to try really hard.
I may have mentioned in a previous post how much the staff and faculty impressed me last time I was at the school, and they continued to make a positive impact today. The new principal exudes competency. I haven't seen enough to know if the impression he made was true, but presentation is half the battle. I didn't have very much interaction with him, but I think I'm going to like him and enjoy working under him.
As for today, the other two volunteers filed paperwork and analyzed claims for free and reduced lunches. Somewhere around 90% of the school is on free/reduced lunch, and seeing the numbers of reported income lined up against dependents broke my heart. Luckily for me, I did not spend all day looking at them. I spent my day (get ready for a surprise) writing and editing!
After spending 2 months over the summer writing and editing, with some research thrown in, I would not have believed anyone who told me I would have fun on a day where I did nothing but edit a student handbook. I really must be cut out to be some sort of a writer, because I had a ball. Time flew. I didn't want to leave it when we went home. It made me cringe when I had to follow the archdiocese's wording when I could think of a more efficient (and probably more open to legal interpretation) way to say it.
Most of the house, however, jumped right into work today, and between that and ripples from yesterday misadventures into one of the less safe parts of St. Louis, emotions were slightly fragile. We remedied this with a trip to Home Depot to make keys (where the key-cutter extraordinaire teased some blonde girl with confusing math) and a stop at McDonald's for some economically thrifty dessert.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The Others
Sometimes, I know I made the right choice (read: God called me where I needed to be and I had sense enough to follow). Today we went on an adventure to the Jesuit Volunteer Corps' house for a potluck lunch.
St. Louis has a plethora of volunteer organizations, especially Catholic ones, and today we had the blessing of meeting the JVs, re-meeting the Marianists, and networking (read: playing Apples to Apples) with former volunteers, including teachers, who offered sage wisdom about my coming career, including: "Remember that you're the adult."
Ponderings on that bit of wisdom aside, I enjoyed the time spent with other people who have made similar decisions and will lead similar lives to mine for the next year. The JVs have a for-real house, not a former convent, complete with a sketchy basement, that looks fun by day but would really creep me out by night. It comes complete with a beer pong table. (See what I mean about right choices?)
Each community has a very different vibe, and it's hard to pinpoint exactly what feels different about each of the other communities. Each (ours included) has the potential to become something very beautiful for God this year. But each will take a very unique shape and be something completely unique for God. It reminds me of forming retreat teams: no two are alike, each images a piece of the grandness that is God, and I am sure that I belong where I am.
Side Note -- According to Apples to Apples: Wild, Dangerous, Unscrupulous, Desperate, Lucky. Hopefully this is not the first impression I left with the people I just met.
St. Louis has a plethora of volunteer organizations, especially Catholic ones, and today we had the blessing of meeting the JVs, re-meeting the Marianists, and networking (read: playing Apples to Apples) with former volunteers, including teachers, who offered sage wisdom about my coming career, including: "Remember that you're the adult."
Ponderings on that bit of wisdom aside, I enjoyed the time spent with other people who have made similar decisions and will lead similar lives to mine for the next year. The JVs have a for-real house, not a former convent, complete with a sketchy basement, that looks fun by day but would really creep me out by night. It comes complete with a beer pong table. (See what I mean about right choices?)
Each community has a very different vibe, and it's hard to pinpoint exactly what feels different about each of the other communities. Each (ours included) has the potential to become something very beautiful for God this year. But each will take a very unique shape and be something completely unique for God. It reminds me of forming retreat teams: no two are alike, each images a piece of the grandness that is God, and I am sure that I belong where I am.
Side Note -- According to Apples to Apples: Wild, Dangerous, Unscrupulous, Desperate, Lucky. Hopefully this is not the first impression I left with the people I just met.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Matthew 17:17-20
One of the things David Bereit has mentioned in every talk I have heard or heard about is the day when abortion is illegal and the end of legalized abortion occupies a page or a chapter in history books. Our children will read about it in school and bring the book to us and say, "Mom, where were you then? What were you doing?"
He says it with such confidence. He believes that the United States will come to recognize abortion as causing a death and take legal steps to end it.
The uniqueness of this position struck me at Mass today. The reading from Matthew ended, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." We can have confidence in God of His triumph -- yet often we don't. We speak conditionally: "If we can end abortion..." or in terms of attempts: "We're trying to affect change..."
The 40 Days for Life campaign, run by the man who speaks of "when" not "if," has cut the abortion rate and closed abortion facilities. And I can't help but believe that his faith has moved mountains and wonder how I can do the same.
He says it with such confidence. He believes that the United States will come to recognize abortion as causing a death and take legal steps to end it.
The uniqueness of this position struck me at Mass today. The reading from Matthew ended, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." We can have confidence in God of His triumph -- yet often we don't. We speak conditionally: "If we can end abortion..." or in terms of attempts: "We're trying to affect change..."
The 40 Days for Life campaign, run by the man who speaks of "when" not "if," has cut the abortion rate and closed abortion facilities. And I can't help but believe that his faith has moved mountains and wonder how I can do the same.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Here I Am, Lord!
Say that phrase with as many variations in inflection as you can imagine, and you will probably accurately reflect my feelings since arriving in St. Louis.
Our house used to be a convent, so is laid out particularly well for this program. Each volunteer has her own bedroom with a sink, though we share toilets and showers. We have a kitchen, a dining room, several guest rooms, and several sizes of common rooms. Best of all, we have a tiny chapel with a tabernacle where Jesus lives, in addition to living right next door to the church.
I have a community of 6 volunteers, and we have spent the past few days getting oriented, a process which will conclude this Saturday with a commissioning Mass. Since settling into the house here with my "Six-Pack" community (as the priest next door christened us), I have discovered several of the best-kept secrets of the Catholic world.
We have learned about Vincentian spirituality, discussed community and simple living, and visited the ministry sites of each group member. At these ministry sites, I have been blessed to see the workings of justice -- both direct service and systemic change -- that I only discovered fully in college. As we visited site four (of five) today, I found myself wondering why I had never seen or heard of these operations before. Why are we not exposed to this part of the Church as young Catholics? When Mass fails to hold our attention, when the Rosary seems boring and repetitive, when saints are too holy or only found in books, why are we not taken out here, to where men and women living out the faith in confidence day after day? This is the part of the Church that should draw people, and then when they ask (as one must ask after a little time): "How do you keep going?", we can answer by bringing them to the Eucharist. And this good is a side affect of the good of serving the least.
After all, Jesus gives us service of others as a mandate, not an option. It's something we as Catholics, as Christians, myself especially, can recognize but fail to act upon. This year is about that action, but it shouldn't be merely a year. This is my challenge to myself. The motto of VSC Central is "A year of service makes a lifetime of difference," and I have adopted that as my personal resolution.
Important Sidenote: Most of my 4 loyal readers have my address. I need a piece of mail with my name on it in order to get a library card. Please help me remedy this.
Our house used to be a convent, so is laid out particularly well for this program. Each volunteer has her own bedroom with a sink, though we share toilets and showers. We have a kitchen, a dining room, several guest rooms, and several sizes of common rooms. Best of all, we have a tiny chapel with a tabernacle where Jesus lives, in addition to living right next door to the church.
I have a community of 6 volunteers, and we have spent the past few days getting oriented, a process which will conclude this Saturday with a commissioning Mass. Since settling into the house here with my "Six-Pack" community (as the priest next door christened us), I have discovered several of the best-kept secrets of the Catholic world.
We have learned about Vincentian spirituality, discussed community and simple living, and visited the ministry sites of each group member. At these ministry sites, I have been blessed to see the workings of justice -- both direct service and systemic change -- that I only discovered fully in college. As we visited site four (of five) today, I found myself wondering why I had never seen or heard of these operations before. Why are we not exposed to this part of the Church as young Catholics? When Mass fails to hold our attention, when the Rosary seems boring and repetitive, when saints are too holy or only found in books, why are we not taken out here, to where men and women living out the faith in confidence day after day? This is the part of the Church that should draw people, and then when they ask (as one must ask after a little time): "How do you keep going?", we can answer by bringing them to the Eucharist. And this good is a side affect of the good of serving the least.
After all, Jesus gives us service of others as a mandate, not an option. It's something we as Catholics, as Christians, myself especially, can recognize but fail to act upon. This year is about that action, but it shouldn't be merely a year. This is my challenge to myself. The motto of VSC Central is "A year of service makes a lifetime of difference," and I have adopted that as my personal resolution.
Important Sidenote: Most of my 4 loyal readers have my address. I need a piece of mail with my name on it in order to get a library card. Please help me remedy this.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Meet Me In St. Louis
While I may backtrack and recount some adventures of my last 3 days in the DC Metropolitan Area, I did want to update and say that I am now in St. Louis, beginning my Vincentian Service Corps adventures. I have a wonderful community and a great God!
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