A discussion while standing on the corner

Last week Greg and I were discussing the creative process, while standing on the corner by the 7-11. We were debating the "why" of creative expression: what is the ultimate purpose of one's art? Do we create for public consumption? Do we create in order to recieve accalaides and praise? Do we create to change the world? Do we create simply because we cannot avoid creating, that it is some essential element of our very existence?
Later that weekend, I saw the abysmal film "Art School Confidential." It is really, really awful. It did, however, offer one line of wisdom that I thought I would pass on, as a final response to the 7-11 corner discussion.
In the film, a character says, "Why do we create art? We create art in order to enjoy that sweet narcotic moment of creative bliss."
I like that.

Reasons Why Teaching is the Best Job in the World

1) Your day as a teacher is rarely, if ever, dull.
2) Kids are brillant, funny, and endlessly surprising.
3) Even when you're having your worst day-- you have a cold, a headache, the flu, cramps, or you're so grumpy you want to growl at the next person who talks to you-- all it takes a smile from a kid to remind you how beautiful the world is.
4) You can reference Spongebob SquarePants and no one tells you to grow up already.
5) Kids get to make you laugh.
6) You get to make kids laugh.
7) You're teaching a unit on the Civil Rights Movement and, later, a group of students who feel they have been punished unfairly are seen on the recess yard linking arms and singing "We Shall Overcome." And you're so proud you start to cry.
8) Sometimes it's so hard and so tiring and you mess everything up...but then there's the next day, and you get to try all over again.
9) You meet the most amazing people.
10) You learn there is something awe-inspiring, fascinating, and wonderful about every kid.
11) You honestly hear yourself use the phrase, "Watch it! You're going to put someone's eye out."
12) You learn how to have buckets upon buckets of patience.
13) You get to stall the progression of time. It's like living in Never Never Land.
14) You feel useful every single day.
15) You get to be taller than at least SOME of the people in the room.
16) You get to be a storyteller.
17) You get to watch the joyous reaction of a student who has just learned something new or mastered a new skill. It's great to see them proud of themselves.
18) You learn from the kids how to notice the little things.
19) It's trite, but true: You truly are making a difference in someone's life. Whether you're helping them resolve out a personal dilemma, teaching them long division, or showing them how to use a compass, you're making an impact.
20) There are those moments when the kids blow your mind with some brillant and profound statement- when they come out with something wiser than what is said by all the politicians in this country put together. And I'll tell you, it happens all the time.

Monteverde Cloud Forest

A photo of my new home.
Well..that isn't entirely accurate. I won't be living immediatly within the Cloud Forest, but rather within the vacinity of this beautiful haven. So rather than my new home, let's call it "My New Backyard."

Just to clarify...

...I am not in Costa Rica YET. I am currently writing this while sitting at a desk filled with books in an apartment on 22nd street in Philly.
I'll let you know when I get there.
Thus far I am only in the preparation stage of my trip. So, as is characteristic of me, I am consumed with needless and foolish worry. I worry about the most irrelevant and seemingly pointless details. I worry about things like: How many books can I fit in my suitcase? What if I brought the wrong kind of shoes? Will the taxi we take from airport be able to hold all of our suitcases? What if I run out of bug repellent? What if I bring the wrong kind of EVERYTHING and all the people in Costa Rica laugh at me?
Not to mention, of course, my thoughts about the plane flight. My standard The Plane is Going to Fall Out of The Sky thought pattern.
But! Along with all the babbling worry, I am also filled with excitement and anticipation. Michael and I will be moving to Monteverde, where I will be teaching. Monteverde is the most beautiful place on earth. Really.
Bear in mind, in my estimation, there are several Most Beautiful Places on Earth. Here they are, in no particular order: Machu Picchu, Peru; Lake Titicaca, Bolivia; Venice, Italy; St. John, Virgin Island; Old Havana, Cuba; Glacier, Yellowstone, Yosemite National Parks; YMCA Camp Tockwogh, in Maryland; Harpers Ferry, West Virginia; Lucerne, Switzerland; Sienna, Italy; the coast of Brittany in France, and of course, Paris.

I have started taking some Spanish classes to brush up before I go. Here's a sentence in Spanish: Yo estoy escribiendo mi "blog." That means: I am writing my blog. I do not know the Spanish word for "blog."

I've included a photo of Machu Picchu. I meant to paste the photo down here at the end of the blog, but as I mentioned before, I am a bit of a bumbling fool when it comes to computers.

Notes from a woman who never stopped talking to herself

So here is my blog.
I am not, by all accounts, a particularly computer-literate type so I hope I will not wreck too much technological havoc while attempting to post my entries. One would imagine that it would be hard to mess up something as clear cut as these Blog Spot forms, however, in the ten minutes I have been working on this I have already accidentally posted a giant picture of my head and also posted a blank entry (see above).
So, please forgive. I will try my best.
I am also a poor speller. To say that I am a "poor" speller is an understatement. There is no word I can think of to truly capture the ineptitude of my spelling. Actually, there ARE a few words I can think of that might capture it but sadly, I can spell none of them. ( I just asked Michael to clarify the spelling of "ineptitude").
So! To the blog...I am writing this for several reasons. The primary one is that the Blog system seemed a smart one to use as a vehicle for sending loved ones stories about my upcoming relocation to Costa Rica. Folks who want to know what I'm up to down there can just log on and read the latest news. The secondary reason is that I am dying for a forum to blab all of my passionatly held beliefs about education and teaching. I am a woman of strong opinions. I enjoy discussing these opinions AT LENGTH, as anyone who has been the recipient of my many-page-long e-mailed tirades about some such teaching matter would attest. If worked up enough about something, I could conceivably ramble on for days.
I have a sneaking suspicion my friends are growing a bit weary of my logorrhea.

A few brief statements about me: I am a teacher. I am a playwright. I am only 5 feet tall. I was born in Delaware. I watch my students and think to myself: humanity is beautiful. There is goodness everywhere. There is sometimes more wisdom in a ten-year-old than in a sixty-year-old. Wait- let me rephrase: There is OFTEN more wisdom in a child than an adult. Children see and understand what adults ignore and forget. Children have not lost their sense of wonder at all that is glorious about life.
This is what Antoine de Saint-Exupery taught me in The Little Prince. And it's damn true.
The first group of children I ever worked with were at Rittenhouse Day Camp in Delaware. I was 16 and they were 7 year-old-boys. I'll never forget the first day we found a toad by the creek. We watched that toad for what felt like a lifetime. Every little pair of 7-year-old eyes were glued on that toad. Hardly a word was spoken, save for the occasional "ooh!" or "wow!" And this was the reaction to ANY toad or bird or interesting rock we came along during the whole of the camp. They never got tired of just watching, mouths agape, some cool THING.
I wish I lived in a world where we were all like that, all the time. A sense of wonder! That is what life is all about.