Emptying out the noise...

It feels as though an eternity has passed since my last blog post, my mind has been so full. Unfortunately, my funk has continued into this week, and today I was in a very angry mood. One of my students was a no show, and though I wanted to spend the extra time finishing up my book, I couldn't calm my mind enough to be silent. So, instead I wrote. I wrote three separate blog entries. And, it felt great. It was like emptying out all the noise in my head. One thing my life coach taught me was that it is not only negative things that cause stress. Just trying to remember something causes stress, which is why she has me write down blog, art, and photo ideas the moment they arise, which is why she had me hide notebooks in every room of my house and constantly carry one in my purse. And it's been great. So, without further ado, today's jumbled thoughts, as translated from my purse notebook...

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Today while one of my students took a bathroom break, I roamed the halls reading the literature affixed to the walls. In honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day last month, the second graders had each written their "dreams" for their community, the nation, and the world. It was actually quite eye-opening reading their responses. There were some that focused on environmental issues, like "I have a dream that... everyone would recycle" or "I have a dream that... everyone would stop littering". Then there were the animal-friendly sort- "I have a dream that... all the strays would be put in the pet store so they could be safe" and "I have a dream that... people would stop shooting animals for no reason." But by far, the greatest number were some version of "I have a dream that... people would share their money and help others." Wow. What a concept. Immediately, my mental cannon started firing question after question- when do we as people lose that sense of oneness with each other? When do people become last and money and success become first? Why do we even bother teaching children these ideals of kindness, sharing, and teamwork when we as adults don't even use them? Because they're cute? As someone who has worked with kids since I was one, the thing I hate most about how some adults deal with kids is that they do so as though kids were put on this Earth to be cute and make you smile. They weren't.

So as I continued to wait, I thought about the lesson that would encompass the true ideals rewarded in this country today... "Ok, boys and girls, today's lesson is on things. Make sure to always hoard things and keep them to yourself. Instead of helping others, buy yourself things because things are the most important. And don't just buy things, but buy the most expensive things you can and buy a lot of them. Then, flaunt them in front of others as a sign of status. Now, as you work on your assignments, make sure you finish first and get the most right. But, most importantly, look down on those who finish after you. The only reason they do is because they are lazy."

If only a second grader could rule the world.

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People breed hate from fear. A simple example: a teacher wants to use the computer in the teacher's lounge, but finds someone on it. She is afraid to ask that person to use it, for fear of appearing rude, so instead posts a sign on the computer the next day reading, "Faculty Only". So, now there are the faculty who work at the school, and everybody else. With one simple, seemingly harmless sign, the team has been dismantled, and an "us" and "them" have been formed. One group belongs; one does not. This is called hate.

Ok, so I realize this sounds like the insignificant rantings of a spurned tutor, pissed she can't check her yahoo. That's because it is. But I found in my rantings the realization that hate sprouts in the smallest of unexpected places. Every second we spend separating people, making clean, clear-cut little groups, we have the simple effect of tearing us apart. Anytime there is an us and a them, hate is present. Anytime there is a "you're wrong" and an "I'm right", hate is there.

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In the book I am currently reading about the creation of the novel, Flowers for Algernon, the author, Daniel Keyes, discusses the highs and lows of being a writer. He writes of his excitement as the release date neared, and his subsequent emotional defeat when the first review came back negative. Although all of the following reviews were nothing less than glowing, still years later when he thinks of that initial review, he feels upset and angry.

The other day I received an email from one of my bosses, who is frequently calling me out on this minor error or that. As a result, I have frequently had the sneaking suspicion that he hates me. Now, I have a history of being paranoid in such matters as what people think of me. Yet it seems, though I know this and though my friends may tell me, "Dewin, you're just being paranoid", I remain unmoved. I am sure this person hates me, and I sure am upset about it.

So, last night I tried thinking of it in a different way. That one reviewer hated one story- a story, mind you, that later went on to sell millions of copies, win several literary accolades, and spawn the creation of three movies, a play, and a musical that won their own accolades. Similarly, when reading up on the movie, The Lovely Bones, which I went to see twice this weekend by the way, and which I would have not one qualm about labeling the best movie that ever was and will ever be made... in permanent marker... in cement, I saw several negative reviews of it. Believe it or not, I have even seen negative reviews of To Kill A Mockingbird, and yes, though it pains me to say, No Doubt, as well.

And, so it goes. You can't please everyone. And, here's why: My experience of Flowers for Algernon, like my experience of The Lovely Bones, is not the experience of someone else. Because any experience we have is based solely and wholly on our prior world experiences. Therefore, Flowers for Algernon is not one story, it is about a trillion trillion different stories. Every time it is read it becomes something new. In fact, if I were to read it again in 5 years, it would be a different story for me.

Likewise, I am one trillion trillion people. The way I see myself is not the way my husband sees me is not the way my mother sees me. So, whomever my boss happens to see me as is based on his prior life experience. And, if he hates that person, well, that's not on me. Because it isn't me. If Daniel Keyes truly believed that he had told the story of Flowers for Algernon as it deserved to be told, then his story is perfect as is.