Rush Post

Blogger evidently didn't feel the need to warn me my smoke signals to the outside world would be doused at 4 PM PDT. I'm glad I logged on now, rather than after I finished all the work I really ought to be doing right now.

Er... anyway...

Lots to update you on, Dear Readers (all six of you). The reader's digest version:

• My grandfolks came all the way from Lake Charles to see me. They fed me and got me out of the convent for a while. Saturday was the first night in two months I slept somewhere other than my hospital bed in the old wing of the convent. It was awesome.
• Speaking of, I've been here two months as of Friday. Frankly, I can't quite get my head around that yet. Maybe when I hit three months I'll have absorbed two months.
• Sine, one of my great friends from college in Delaware who lives in Boston, was in town this weekend. Random? Quite, but these are my friends we're talking about.
• Even thought I wouldn't be seeing him anyway, Dad being in Germany makes me miss him more. I don't like not being able to call and text him about every little thing that crosses my mind.
• Mass at San Fernando Cathedral downtown. Beautiful. Splendid. Glorious. Best mass I've been to in a long, long, long time, in terms of respect for and quality of liturgy.
• First quarter ends on Friday. This means A) I have a week to cram as many grades as possible into my books and a weekend to clean everything up so it kind of makes sense, and I will be pretty much swamped until then, and B) more importantly, I've been an actual, honest-to-God teacher for nine weeks. What?! Seriously?? No one has caught on to this farce yet?

More on everything... later. There's a five-inch stack of tests calling my name.

And now for something else...

As has become a habit on my little bitty blog, I stole this from Mark Shea's uber blog.



Someone tell Melissa and Charlie I expect a performance of this when I come home in November.

This is pretty awesome, too.

Happy 1,000th Visitor, Theophany!

Have I tripped into this many people? Who are you?!

This apparently happened sometime yesterday. And actually, since I'd had the site for about a month before I added the SiteTracker stuff, the real 1,000th visitor probably came by a couple weeks ago.

Still, now I have proof that my mindless rambling have passed before the eyes of ten people at least 1,000 times. Woo!

VISITS
	Total	1,014
	Average Per Day	9
	Average Visit Length	1:34
	Last Hour	0
	Today	6
	This Week	62

Is It April in Geneva?

Because the Nobel folks are sure trying to put one over on us.

Was there a very small pool of people doing peaceful things this year?

I confess to knowing almost nothing about the science behind global warming, and I haven't made a judgment as to whether I think it's "real" or not. Environmentalism is a good thing (within reason). We should take care of the planet, after all, God made us stewards of this planet, not it's locust overlords.

It's just... Al Gore made a movie and promoted it. That's what you do with your movies, you promote them so you can make money off them. Maybe I missed something, but none of that strikes me as being particularly noteworthy, or as having much to do with peace. Moreover, from what I understand, Gore sucks up significantly more energy than the average person. (All of Vatican City, meanwhile, is going carbon neutral. Because Catholics are that awesome.)

Oh well. Nothing to get our nickers in a twist about. The people out there who are doing actual peace-building work don't care if they get awards, God bless 'em. I'm casually familiar with Mercy Corps, and they do huge boat loads of actual work to promote social justice and sustainable use of the environment.

I Crack Me Up

Part of my job is teaching vocabulary. My high schoolers used exactly the same series of books, with twenty words per unit, and we tested once a week. I give my middle schoolers two weeks to learn the unit -- plenty of time. Being middle schoolers, however, they are not remotely inclined to put forth the effort. They would rather do ten words every week and forget them as soon as the test is over. Nay, say I, they can do better than that. As a result of my hard-line policies, there's a lot of, "Miiiiiiiiss, it's too haaaaaaaard", which I simultaneously find sad in their lack of confidence, and so whiny and obnoxious I could spork out either my ears or their voice boxes.

Anyway, I sent a letter home with them today. This is how it starts:

Esteemed Lexicon Initiates,

I’ve become cognizant of the trepidation manifold of you, my pupils, are grappling with apropos methods of augmenting your vocabulary. Despite your doubts about your abilities, I really believe you are all fully capable of learning a whole unit in two weeks. You need only think you can do it, put forth the effort, and apply some new strategies to your study of the words. You can totally handle this!

Sr Rosann has to approve all communications before they go home. She brought this back to my room laughing. "This is cute," she said. You're darn right it's cute, Sister. Like I'm new at this. Being cute, I mean.

The Fight

At twenty-two, I still feel myself bombarded by voices telling me who and what I should be; how I ought to be, act and think if I want boys to like me, and what not to do if I want anyone to like me (liking God is usually at the top of that list). The sight of the average magazine cover, even as it stirs my ire, prompts the tiny voice in my head that I could be a little leaner. The whole time I was in college, I felt like a side-show attraction because I didn't drink myself to oblivion and make myself available to any dude that came along. My resolve and my principles are firmly grounded, mind you, and those little voices don't actually bother me much -- but they are there. Since high school, it's been a constant fight to keep believing the things I believe, to preserve them from the ever-present temptation to compromise, just once.

One of my seventh-graders got the talking-to of her life because she kissed a boy in the library. Innocent, you may think, and in another world it might have been, but there is a weed working its way through my students. That girl had no idea why what she did was not a good idea, even as her best friend was crying because she liked the boy, too. They don't understand why I won't let them refer to each other as "sexy", nor why they can't roll the waist bands of their skirts, making their thighs more visible so they don't look "nasty". At eleven and twelve, many of the boys and girls are already desperate for a girl/boy friend, already smearing each others names when they are envious.

Their teachers and the sisters are constantly trying to show these students real love, but so many of their families are falling apart, and they want something tangible now. They live hard lives and they are faced with a lot of choices I didn't even know existed when I was that age -- which wasn't long ago at all. It is a poverty deeper and more insidious in many ways than material poverty. It is, as Blessed Mother Teresa put it, the poverty of feeling unloved and unwanted. So far the damage is reparable, but if the trend continues that won't be true much longer. They are wonderful, beautiful, brilliant, good-hearted children, but every time they say or do something that hints at the demons hunting them, part of me starts to panic because I don't know what I can do to help them. It is, in the end, their fight.

I -- and you, Dear Readers -- can only keeping loving these children, pray, and pray, and pray for them, and for all children in all forms of poverty, and hope Jesus gets to them before everything else does.

St Joesph: More than a Real-Estate Wizard

Southern Texas, as you may be aware, is a hot place. We're solidly into fall, but the high still hits an easy 90 every day. Towards the end of last week, the compressors for the air conditioner that cools the sisters' sleeping quarters, living room, chapel, and dining room, as well as the school cafeteria and pre-K rooms, went down. Being in actuality a large lizard in disguise, I wasn't bothered by the break down, but that's real easy for me to say because the air in my hall was fine. The sisters, however, were suffering, and the kids who ate and had class in that part of the building were melting. The entire school went into adaptation and shuffling mode for the week, trying to keep the little ones comfortable and the sisters from getting heat stroke, but what we really needed was to get the air fixed.

As you might imagine, the air conditioning system that cools a space three or four times bigger than the average house is not cheap. Costs for parts, labor, and the crane to bring in the three new compressors we ended up needing went into the tens of thousands of dollars. We are not the stereotypical rich private school whose parents can tap their friends on the shoulder for a chunk of cash, and this wouldn't even be easy for them to cover. As a small school lacking deep-pocketed patrons, this was frightening. Where do we get that kind of money in a really hot and humid pinch?

For sometime now, at least for a while before I got here, the sisters and the faculty have been saying the St Joseph prayer, asking him to intercede for us and for the families of the school. We ask for the resources needed for St. John Bosco School to provide a quality education and for the parents of our students to be able to keep sending their children here. Already, we were pretty convinced he's been helping us out, but this air compressor business cemented it, at least for me.

As soon as the compressors broke, Sr Roseann had them replaced because it was dangerous for the children and the sisters to be in that kind of heat. We had a thirty-day window to pay the gargantuan bill. At the same time, the people in the finance office started flinging grant applications left and right. Everyone was hopeful, of course, but the situation was still edgy. Meanwhile, you started hearing the St Joseph prayer muttered by the teachers up and down the halls.

Then yesterday, a mere three days after the compressors were replaced, we got word that our grant had been approved for above the amount we were asking. Sr. Roseann said, "St Joseph feast day is going to be a big deal here."

The Prayer of St. Joseph

O St. Joseph, whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the Throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires. St. Joseph, do assist me by your powerful intercession and obtain for me from your Divine Son all spiritual blessings through Jesus Christ, Our Lord; so that having engaged here below your Heavenly power, I may offer my Thanksgiving and Homage to the most Loving of Fathers.
O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms. I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart. Press him in my name and kiss His fine Head for me, and ask Him to return the Kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls, pray for us.

This prayer was found in the fiftieth year of Our Lord Jesus Christ. In 1500's it was sent by the Pope to Emperor Charles when he was going into battle.

Whoever reads this prayer or hears it or carries it, will never die a sudden death, nor be drowned, nor will poison take effect on them. They will not fall into the hands of the enemy nor be burned in any fire, nor will they be defeated in battle.

Make this prayer known everywhere.

Imprimatur
Most Rev. George W. Ahr
Bishop of Trenton

You Can Tell I've Been Blogging

Is anyone, anywhere, especially in Louisiana, Peru, or south Texas, even remotely surprised to learn this?

Scores of peer-reviewed scientific studies confirm what great philosophers always understood — life without steak, crab, butter, eggs, cheese, and heavy cream is not worth living. (Read the rest of the sharp little article.)
-Crosscut Seattle, via Remnants, via Mark Shea (sheesh...)

Meanwhile, I'm glad I have people like the think-tank on the View around to tell me the truth of my Church. I had no idea that bishops made statements regarding the salvation the souls of those charged to them for sheer publicity. 'Cause, you know, the church might just poof out of existence if we're out of the limelight for too long (our staying power, after all, is just as tenuous as that of Brittany Spears). This was a little gem I found towards the bottom of the transcript, so you Dear Readers needn't actually wade through the whole bog:

BEHAR: We were all raised Catholic here, so this is not some anti-Catholic rant that we're on. This is just factual information.

As we all know, being raised Catholic insulates you from the possibility of making slimy and grievously erroneous remarks about said Church. Worked for all those ex-Catholics.

Mildly Inappropriate Convent Humor

A totally uninvented and unembellished conversation over dinner:

Unnamed Sister #1: Unnamed Sister #2 fell in the cafeteria today!
Unnamed Sister #2: It wasn't bad. I'm not hurt. Well, a little sore.
Unnamed Sister #3: How did you fall? Back, front?
Unnamed Sister #2: I don't remember, I was too busy trying to get back up. There were kids around.
Unnamed Sister #3: Did they see your interior life??

I died.

Holla!* (or, I swear I'm alive)

It's just that, you know, I'm a teacher. I have a job to do, and I occasionally like to sleep. Progress reports come out tomorrow, meaning the last few days have been chock full of actual teacher work. I got thought it all pretty quickly and efficiently, which is new for me.

In the last four days, I:

- Went to a movie with a friend from Dallas I met in New Orleans doing research with U of Delaware in January, whose brother lives in San Antonio. Seriously. I actually meet people this way.

- Went to lunch with the fantastic-in-every-aspect Debbie, or Auntie Dee-ber as I call her behind her back. A good part of the meal was spent convincing her that I am not presently romantically interested in anyone, nor is there anyone for me to be romantically interested in -- I live with nuns and work with 12 year-olds. You can sleep tonight, Daddy.

- Got my "Will teach for food" shirt in the mail! Thanks, Mama!

- Was told by my students I should be a sister for Halloween, "because you look like one". They failed to explain what that means. One of my 8th graders very seriously said I should do it because "That's what God most likely wants you to do with your life." Thank you for that insight into my vocation. My 5th grade girls, meanwhile, were all in favor of princess.

- Started my grad school application. (Gulp)

- Missed episode two of season four of House, the best show on TV, because I was being a responsible teacher. Cried a little about it. Sr. Roseann watched it and filled me in. We also talked about the reasons why House and Cuddy aren't together. I cited House's twisted and torn heart, to which she replied, "So sew it up and move on! Get over it! Get married!" This is one of the things I love about the sisters: their "Just suck it up, pansy" attitude (although they'd never put it that way... I do.)


That is, I think, about it. This coming week, I will:

- Write essays convincing the aforementioned grad program they want me. Really, you do. I can lift moderately heavy things!

- Meet with my students' parents about their grades. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, hold me up.

- Plan out our drama club stuff. No, I don't mean the stuff that goes down at the lunch table, I mean an actual, structured theater club. Maybe I can channel some of that crazy out of them.

- Miss everyone.

I'm wondering if there's anything you, my dear readers, want to see more of on this site. Nun stories? Kid stories? Reflections and insights on the nature of God? Comments on life, the universe, and everything? Kids in paper costumes? I'm here for you...

*My beloved NCSC folk: you're not imagining it. That title and the format of this post are totally for you. You're wonderful!