Resolving to Forgive

Happy New Year World (2010)

The New Year is right around the corner. As usual I have put in the back of my mind the resolution to lose weight, to get healthy, to exercise more, to write more, etc. However, those are promises I’ve been making and breaking too often now, and I just recently recognized that there is one resolution that I must stick to before I can accomplish any of the others.

I am resolving to forgive.

This resolution runs deep, and underlies my ability to succeed in any other resolution I could possible make. This is not just about forgiving others for any perceived wrongs on their, part. This is about forgiving myself for the abuse I have given myself over the years, both mentally and physically.

Thus, my New Year’s Resolution for 2011 is to Forgive.

I forgive myself for the weakness that made me make some poor choices in the past, especially when it came to friends.

I forgive myself for not becoming the person I thought I wanted to be. After all, I may still be wondering what I want to be when I grow up, but the person I am right now is pretty interesting.

I forgive myself for gaining weight and not taking care of myself physically. I can only change that if I can forgive myself for doing it.

I forgive myself for my failures as a daughter, a wife, a mother, a sister, a friend. I know that I have many failings in these ares, but I also have many successes.

I forgive myself for my inability to completely forgive those who have hurt me. At the same time, however, I think I am very close to honestly forgiving if not forgetting.

I also must include in this resolution forgiving myself for the mistakes I have yet to make. I’m finally learning that I dwell too much on mistakes and not enough on achievements. So perhaps part of this New Year’s Resolution is to not just Forgive but to Honor.

That’s it! I hereby resolve to Honor myself  and others throughout the year 2011 as well as the coming years. I also resolve to continue to forgive.

I honor you, my readers. I hope you forgive me for this post.

Later in the day . . .

I spent much of the day reading The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry. It’s a beautiful and intriguing book overall, but the following passage gave me chills as the universe sent me a message:

“All forgiveness is self-forgiveness. . . . But I do not yet know how to forgive. Or who, in the end, really needs to be forgiven. ” (Barry 383)


Marketing Gender

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The only time I give into the gluttonous lure of fast food is when I am on a long car trip. I don’t know why, but I cannot resist the greasy goodness calibrating my stomach as the miles roll under the cars wheels.

Yesterday, as I licked the last bit of tartar sauce off of my fingers, I realized that I would probably regret my choice of lunch later in the day as the longest car trip of my life stretched into the double digits. I decided to distract myself by reading the box of my daughter’s Happy Meal. This, however, added to my problem by the simple mechanism of gendered and stereotypical marketing that added food for thought if not for digestion.

One side was blue and clearly geared at the boys, picturing an anime character with an aggressive look.  The game on the side recommended that boys add power to their names so they too can become kick-ass fighters (okay, I’m paraphrasing here) by simply adding -oid or -tron to the end of their names.

The pink side showed pictures of the fuzzy little stuffed toys for the girls. In the corner, a pink heart that could be punched out of the box and divided in half. Give half to your friend, it says. Keep half for yourself. When you are separate, you will have half a heart, but when you are together your heart will be whole. Gag!

I guess that the girls don’t need to worry that they can only be whole through the support of someone else, or that only having half a heart might make them weak, because Paul-tron or Stephen-oid can always come and protect her collection of fuzzy animals.

I wish that my daughter would rather be Sarah-tron, but of course she spent time talking baby talk to her new tiny unicorn.

A few days ago, one of my Facebook friends who is a super intelligent person, posted for input on how to refer to a male with an effeminate term that would not be offensive to gay men.  I didn’t respond because I was disturbed by the question. Why does there have to be a word for it? Why can’t a sensitive, non-macho man simply be a nice guy?

Even as gender roles have changed in some ways in our society, I realize that we have NOT “come a long way, baby.”  We can pretend all we want that women have more opportunities in this world (if still unequal pay). We can be shown images of men being house-moms or crying and being sensitive but still winning the girl.  But underneath that, the expectations remain the same. Girls are supposed to love pink and play with dolls. Boys are supposed to get dirty and roughhouse. Women are supposed to have a mothering instinct and men protect their family. In the family, women are still expected to take time off for sick children while the men bring home the bacon.

We talk as if the above isn’t true, but the little pink and blue box proves otherwise.

I think it is time for everyone to choose his/her own color and for gender to be self-selected. How do we make that happen when every detail of our lives is marketed to us with gender identity attached?

Any thoughts on this?

I Am Jon Stewart

Jon Stewart

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Okay, not really. He’s male. I’m female. He’s famous. I’m not. He makes people laugh with him on a daily basis. I make people laugh at me.

But still, I am Jon Stewart.

The only obvious thing we have in common is that we are both short and Jewish. But, at a different level we are similar in the way we think about the world. He’s just much better at expressing his opinion and making other people listen to him. He is also much better at arguing his opinion from a knowledgeable stance.

But still, I am Jon Stewart.

As we were driving yesterday we listened to this NPR interview with Stewart More From Jon Stewart’s ‘Fresh Air’ Interview : NPR and I found myself responding to so many of his comments with one word, “YES!” His thoughts about the corruptness of the media, Yes! His thoughts about how “regimented” they need to be in order to have the “freedom to improvise” or the freedom to truly create, Yes! His thoughts about feeling “other” because of being Jewish, although he does not completely follow the religion. Yes! His thoughts about religion in general, and that there are other ways to become moral people, YES! His attitude that work stays at work so that when he is at home he is “locked in and . . .ready to go and . . .  focused on home.” Yes! (The only place we differ slightly here would be that I will not play with Barbie anymore, but I’ll let that pass)

I listened to that interview and the realization hit me, Jon Stewart is who I would like to be. He is the person I dreamed of becoming; someone who makes a difference in the world through words, through entertainment, through challenging others to think and not merely accept the status quo. I know  that, in my own small way, I do some of those things. Stewart just does it better.

So, okay, I’m not really Jon Stewart. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

Knitting Warm Words

Wrap, wrap, wrap.

Hook, hook, hook.


My new obsession is this knitting loom which allows me to make cute hats in a short amount of time. Most of them have turned out pretty well, except for the one I made for my husband where I got a little carried away and added a few too many inches. He likes it though.

I call it an obsession because, as often happens when I get inspired by a new project, I have focused on this and ignored other things I have been doing. Like writing. I’ve been writing in this or my other blog  ( daily, sometime several times a day. I’m not saying that everything I have written is brilliant. Some of it is total garbage. But, just the practice of daily writing has helped me focus on other aspects of my life.

But then, I discovered the calmness of wrapping warm yarn around a loom. Wrap, wrap, wrap. Hook, hook, hook. No thought. Romantic comedies that I have watched a million times playing in the background. Or maybe a schmaltzy Christmas movie. I enter  a zone of calm peaceful achievement that I have not felt in a while.

Yesterday, I thought, I should really work on developing my classes for next semester, especially the new ones. But, no. The soft yarn slides through my fingers, beckoning me sweetly to create another hat. Wrap, wrap, wrap. Swish, swish, swish. Hook, hook, hook. Classes do not start until January 11th, I have time.

Or, I should be planning for the musical which I start directing as well. A show that is already filling my nightmares with images of my own insecurities. But instead I relish the warm colors, browns, greens, reds, blending together to create something new.

This morning, as I knit,  I realized I haven’t written since I vented my anger at the evil hackers who added more stress to my days. I know I tend to write more when I have something to vent, rather than focusing on positivity and joy.  The swish and tickle of the yarn spoke to me, write words of warmth, write words of peace, write of kindness.

So here I am, the knitting at a pause and all I can write about is knitting.

I feel like that’s a good thing. Now, however, it is time to go back to

Wrap wrap wrap

hook hook hook.

See you in the warm comfort of words, if I don’t get buried in hats.

Technologically Violated

Monumento alla difesa di Casale, bronze sculpt...

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It’s not funny anymore. In fact it is downright creepy.

When the person who hacked into my husband’s e-mail account started communicating with a wonderful long time friend and using my name, my daughter’s name, and my sister’s name he (or she) crossed a line. Now I am mad, but I’m also scared.

Have we become too reliant on technology? I know, it is kind of strange question to ask while I am typing on a computer into the blogiverse; my writing fix fulfilled by reaching out through technology to unknown readers. While I am fearful of technology, I am addicted to it.

I guess the real problem isn’t technology but humans. Humans are the ones who corrupt technology in the name of greed or improvement. Humans are the ones that relish the victory over others that comes with more power, or in our case with the ability to take over a simple e-mail account and disrupt lives.

So while I have been violated technologically, it was ultimately done with human hands.

Is this just more evidence of the overall corrupt nature of humans?

I hate that I am thinking like this. I know it is an over-generalization that all humans are corrupt figures that will leap on a tiny glimmer of advantage. But everything I read lately reflects on this mindless evil of people with power over people with less power. Why can’t we just accept each other and leave each other alone?

Right now, the anger is rising in me. But, I refuse to become one of the corrupt. I choose to pursue kindness and caring. However, this does not me I will like down without a fight and let the world walk all over me.

Whoever this creep is, he/she has taken something valuable from us. No not money. Not friends. But a feeling of safety.

I do not want to feel afraid every time I turn on my computer, just as I don’t want to feel afraid walking out the door.

So here’s a message to all the creeps in the world.; whether you are a master at hacking into technology or someone who intimidates physically or spiritually. STAY AWAY FROM ME!!! I’m angry. I’m not going to take it anymore. I am only going to welcome positive people in my life, and you have NO POWER over me.

Got it?

I will fight to make this world a better place. I will not let creeps like this take me down.

Anyone care to join me?

Hacking for Fun and Profit

Victorian Christmas Town

Image by Rennett Stowe via Flickr

Yesterday, I was informed that my husband and his family went on a lovely holiday to England.

Wait, why didn’t I get to go?

Unfortunately, the vacation was cut short when they were mugged, and everything was taken but their passports.

Luckily nobody was hurt except for the mysterious Donna, who was injured on “his” shoulder. I can only assume that my polygamist husband’s family includes a transvestite who goes by the name of Donna.

Of course, the American embassy will do nothing to help my poor husband and woe-begotten family, and now they need $19,000 to pay hotel fees and get home.

$19,000. That must be a luxury hotel. The last holiday  he took me on, I think we stayed at a Day’s Inn in Albuquerque. It was so long ago, I can’t quite remember.

Needless to say, Nathan received the phone call where he learned of this horrible tragedy while sitting next to a Christmas Tree at a tree trimming party. An old friend got his phone number from his parents and called to make sure he knew.

Nathan did not have much fun at the party after that. He spent the time trying to figure out how to change passwords on his e-mail and Facebook, and deal with the repercussions of a stranger having access to his on-line life.

Now here’s my question, WHY BOTHER? Not Nathan fixing things, that make sense of course, but why bother hacking an account and asking for money when anyone who is a true friend will recognize the fallacy of the story? Why bother asking for money, when you don’t even provide an address to send it to?

I understand that once someone has access to e-mail everything done on-line can become a risk, and that is truly problematic. It means hours of work to make sure you’ve protected yourself and every business transaction you’ve made. It basically means making someone worry, and destroying a few days (or weeks) of their lives. But again, WHY BOTHER announcing the hacking success with an asinine, poorly worded missive to masses begging for money you never will see? The announcement only leads to immediate remediation of the problem.

I simply do not understand the purpose or joy that is found in hacking someone’s account. Could someone please explain?

Alternatively, if anyone feels the urge to follow through and send money, please make sure to send it to our home address. I mean, seriously, I’ll make good use of it, and if my husband is really off in England gallivanting around with his second family, he can wash dishes to earn his way home.

Meaningful Messages

Puzzle globe (partial view)

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Have you ever had one of those days where the universe seems to be sending you an important message, but the message is hidden in symbols so complex that you just can’t figure it out? It’s like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that don’t quite fit together yet. Or maybe a couple of pieces are missing. If you can get them together, the image is going to be something you never imagined.

Today is one of those days. It started off normal, except for this inner feeling of strangeness.

Then, I watched Bones on Hulu, and nearly sobbed when Brennan realized what she wanted and couldn’t have. Or, more importantly, that she didn’t want to have regrets.

From there I watched the surreal claymation version of Community which, in its typical fashion, uses sarcasm and humor to reach some real truths. The truth for me was that everyone is searching for something at this time of year; a sense of belief or a feeling of belonging. Sometimes a combination of both.

Next I log onto Facebook and find a friend who has not been on for a long time. She posted this Huffington Post article James Baraz: Can We Afford Joy in a World of Suffering? which made me think about a life without joy. Actually it made me recognize how often I live my life without joy. That’s not a good thing.

Next, I check my work e-mail to find a message from a friend commenting about my husband looking like a five-year-old (oops, she asked me not to say anything, but he won’t mind . . . he knows). That comment made me laugh out loud, and think about the joys of childhood.

I went back to FaceBook and starting chatting with a friend. We ended up talking about forgiveness, especially the need to forgive ourselves. This then led to my friend saying “emit goodness and goodness will come.”

Words of brilliance in a simple chat.

Next, I hear a strange jingle and bump at the front door. Is it Santa coming for a chat? No, it is my incredible escape artist dog knocking on the front door to come in. I didn’t even know he was gone. And of course, rather than get angry I had to laugh.

Finally, I make a (slightly belated) presentation about Chanukah for my daughter’s second grade class. The questions they asked were complicated. Why did the war start? Why did they leave a mess? etc. The teacher did not want to go into detail about those issues, but we did say that is was people being mean to other people for being different.

None of these stories are related, and yet somehow there is a message in there. It is about finding joy in who you are and embracing the things that make you different. It is about making connections with life. It is about living. And yet, the message is still unclear.

Sometimes I really wish for a blazing message written across the sky.

But for now I will just have to settle for jigsaw puzzles.

So, what is the message the universe is sending me today?

It All Comes Down to Sex

A scarlet letter

Image by Monceau via Flickr

After reading this article Firing Melissa Petro Would Be Indefensible and Intolerable I’ve come to realize that the biggest problem in American society all comes down to sex.

Okay, maybe religion and money play a role too.

But seriously, from my perspective and from the blogs I follow sex holds sway over so much of our society’s twisted attitude toward . . . well . . . everything.

Think about it:

  • Melissa Petro may lose her job and never be able to teach again based on the fact that she was honest about selling sex and stripping in the past. I, for one, would love to have her teaching my daughter. I value innovative, creative, honest teachers. I would rather have her in the classroom than a teacher that hides behind puritanical values that do not allow for the students to learn anything about real life. Should we go back to the days of Schoolmarms of yesteryear, who only taught until they married and took on the role of wife? Or maybe all school teachers who have actually had sex or done something not quite proper in their past should be labelled with a scarlet letter so that students and parents could beware. The school halls would certainly be colorful then.
  • Political races are often won or lost based on the abortion issue. Now remind me, where do babies come from?
  • Rules governing how we raised our children are often based on irrational fears of the predators in our midst. This suggests that as a society we are all warped and twisted people who can never control our sexual urges or any other evil acts. For great insight into this trend check another of my favorite WordPress sites
  • Don’t forget the constant political, social and religious debates about Gay Marriage or DADT. Another issue that is really based on who gets to have sex with whom, and who has the legal right to have sex. (I am not diminishing the complexity of either issue. I know there is more at issue than sex).
  • People may argue that money and power are the real issues, but let’s look at it this way. Many of the people who have more money and/or power in this country, also have more scandal/divorces and . . . let’s say it . . . issues with SEX.

So folks, I’ll say it again. It all comes down to SEX.

What do you think?

Learning to Write, Writing to Learn

GDR "village teacher" (a teacher tea...

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I feel that I have learned so much through writing of all types, from research projects to blogs. I’ve learned about myself. I’ve learned about other people. I’ve thought about new ideas, and revised old one’s. Writing is crucial to who I am as a person.

But today I feel like I’ve learned  nothing at all.

What have I gotten myself into?

Next semester, in addition to directing a play and teaching theater classes to college students as well as children, I will be teaching two Comp I classes for the local Community College; one in person, one online.

No problem! I thought to myself when I agreed to do this. I’ve spent the last 4 years teaching Freshman Comp courses at a 4 year college. I can do it.

Bam! Bam! Bam! That’s the sound of me pounding my head on the wall.

Seriously, I know I can do it. I’m a good teacher. I’ve had intense semesters in the past. I’ve had success with students, as well as a few failures. I accomplish more the more I have to do.

Yet, as I work on the syllabi for the coming semester (I’m one of those people who likes to have them done before break so that I can relax more) I realize that the obstacles are new:

  • I’ve never taught an on-line course before, so I need to learn a whole new way of interacting with my students.
  • The text they use is different from the previous school, so I have a new approach to things and new readings. (Which is not a bad thing).
  • The student population here is a little more challenging. Not that it was easy in my former job, but I find it really difficult to teach students who either never come to class or never turn anything in.

So what is my solution to this insanity? Add more complexity to my courses. I’ve decided I want my students to blog. I plan on adding a blog site for my students (and possibly students from other sections). They will be able to contribute new posts. They will be able to respond to each other’s posts. The blog will also be accessible to the public.

Why? Why add this craziness to a group of students who may never like writing; some of whom have basic challenges in grammar.

I believe that the way to become a better writer is by writing. reading other writing, and writing some more.  Knowing that you have an audience helps.  since we teach about purpose and audience, what better way to help them learn than providing a purpose or an audience. If the students realize that their audience moves beyond myself and their classmates, maybe they will approach writing with a different attitude.

Or they will run screaming and I will lose students faster than a tornado.

Stay tuned for this grand experiment.

Oy vey!

Update: If anyone is interested, the new blog is The grand experiment has begun!

Satisfaction with Mediocrity

Math Cards Icon

Image by Sagolla via Flickr

I just turned in my grades for the past semester.

As usual, my emotions are a mixed bag: relief that I finished (early this semester); frustration at myself for what I didn’t accomplish; elation because of the few students that I actually reached and saw shine; anger at the students who were willing to scrape by in mediocrity.

This last feeling is the most frustrating for me. I have seen it in numerous situations lately; not just in the classroom but in people’s general attitude toward life . There seems to be a willingness to accept the mediocre. Why work for an A when a C will do? And, if you don’t get the A, then of course it is the fault of the instructor, never oneself. If you are getting less than a C, particularly an F, you can always beg for withdrawal as long as you can come up with a heart-wrenching explanation for why you never bothered to attend class or turn anything in. I am giving lots of “F”s this year.

I gave an assignment for students to create a portfolio of their work. “Lay it out nicely,” I said. “This will be useful for you in the future. Create something that you would turn in if you were applying for a job. Create a cover, label your images . . . etc.” I get a collection of images labeled with a blue pen. The cover is notebook paper, blue handwriting scribbled across.

I give the students the opportunity to create a final that is interesting to them, where they can latch onto whatever intrigued them throughout the semester and pursue that topic. I set guidelines, but I allowed. I get, an odd mixture of well thought out work merged with half-accomplished efforts.

This is not just a refection of the school I am at, but a general attitude of students today.  They want knowledge handed to them in the simplest way possible, and then they want some kind of guarantee that all of this work will lead to a lucrative job. I cannot give those guarantees, because I would never hire them. If I owned my own company, I would only want to hire people who are willing to put something more than mediocrity into everything they do. I want to work with people who can find inspiration in anything, so that they do it all with joy. I want to work with people who are not satisfied with a C.

I wonder if this is a reflection of American culture. Have we become so complacent that we are somehow “the best” that we no longer strive to become better. I hate to think that the best we can do is middle of the road.

What do you think?

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