Pine Needle Basket-Weaving

When I was in university, I majored in a liberal arts type major.  When I was with my science or engineering friends they would introduce me and say my major was basket weaving.  Little did they know that I would grow to love basket weaving, and looking back, I would have majored in it if I could have.

ANYWAYS, a few years ago, I learned that my grandfather was bi-racial like I am- he was Black and Indigenous- which is really cool.  I started researching about that part of my history, and talking to members and elders from my grandad's tribe in NC.  I learned a lot in those conversations.  While researching the arts that this group does, I came across pine needle basket weaving.  I thought it was really interesting- that the throw away part of the tree could be harvested and used to make baskets is really neat.  I looked up some tutorials, and started weaving.  It takes a bit to get the hang of it, but by the time I finished my first basket, I was feeling pretty good about it.  

I spent some time this late summer and fall collecting pine needles.  I live in Canada now, on the Eastern part of the country where the types of pines that we would have in NC are not available here.  Where Southern Indigenous groups would use Ponderosa or Longleaf Pines, which don't grow in Ontario.  So I used needles from the Red Pine with are considerably shorter (by like half) which means weaving them is a little tougher, but still doable.  Because the needles I use are shorter, I make smaller baskets.  

It is pretty fascinating to make something truly from scratch.  I had to forage for the needles, sort them, remove the fascicle sheaths (the part that attaches them to the tree), wash them, boil them and then I could use them to weave.   My house smelled like pine for a while... Luckily Don likes the smell.  

I also may have made Don come and get needles with me.  He actually liked it.  That was actually a fun day.  

Depending on what I want the basket to look like, I start with a wooden piece for the centre or not.  This one, I used a laser cut out flower for something different.  I weave with wax covered thread, and I use a plastic straw as my gauge to keep my coils even.  I did love sitting outside and weaving in the sun.  

And this is the basket all finished!  I love how it turned out.  Its cute, and I painted the wooden centre to match the thread.

And I made a little basket with black thread and no centre, that I really loved.  I love the bowl shape, so a lot of my baskets are that shape.  These baskets are very sturdy, but little.  And useful.  I couldn't believe how useful these little baskets are.

I've made about 6 of these so far.  They are relaxing, if a little time-consuming, and I think cute.  Once they dry out, they turn this really pretty reddish color.  This is one of my more rewarding crafts.  I feel more connected to the artisans that would have made these in the past and currently. Which is super cool.  

  

Quarantine Thoughts- Part 1

1. I should miss going places more than I do.  Right?  I think I may be built for lockdowns.  I don't miss going outside.  I don't miss restaurants, parks, movie theatres... Any of it.  I like being able to stay in and not be judged for it- you know, the people who say "but its such a nice day outside!"  


2. We are out of meat, and milk and almost eggs.  We order our food more than 2 weeks in advance, and usually don't get the entire order.  I can't go into the stores because I'm high risk due to my lung condition; so I'm at the mercy of the staff.  It's stressful.  I'm lucky though, because if we are really stuck, D can go in and pick up things and knock down old people if necessary. (joking. sort of.) 


3. FREAKING HOARDERS! Why do you need 1000 rolls of TP? So that other can't get any?  Then they feel the need to hoard too, and then no one can get anything because you drive up scarcity.  Think, people!


4. I think its pretty funny that people who thought they could be profiteers with the TP and hand sanitizer are stuck with all the stuff they bought.  This one grocery manager basically told people "tough titties" for buying too much TP, and no they can't return it.  Ah, sweet justice.


5. I was talking to D and I wondered, "If it was the end of the world, would be even know?  If its not a huge event, but a virus that moves through the population, how long would it be before we knew it was the beginning of the end?  What would be the signs?"  Isn't that a happy thought?  No more dystopian books for me for a while.

Six words

I was told that Ernest Hemingway once won a bet by writing a six word story that was as touching as a full-length novel.  Apparently the story was this:

For sale: Baby shoes, never worn.

I don't know if this story is true, it may not be.  But it is an interesting idea.  I was thinking, if I had to write an autobiography in only six words, what would I write?  Here's what I came up with:

I'm interested in your thoughts.  What would your 6 word biography be?

I don't know anything.

So we have moved. More than that, in true "Stephanie fashion," my week was more eventful than I wanted and/or needed.  

ANYWAYS, now that we have moved,we are slowly waiting for our services to resume.  We have power; which is awesome. We have water, which is essential.  What we are missing, is also essential-- wifi.

Now, I know what you a thinking; Internet is not essential.  It's a luxury that we can stand to do without for a while, to unplug if you will. Usually, I would agree with you.  Not being glued to your computer screen on a vacation of sorts can be a really good thing.  Normally, I would be using this time to paint or knit or do one of the thousand other hobbies I have.  

But here's the rub: I don't know anything.

Every time I wanted to do something in the new place, compare spaces and gather ideas for furniture placement or whatever, I couldn't because we have no Internet.  

If the world ends weekend, I wouldn't be ready because all my survival information is saved on my Pinterest boards!  

So, for my wifi fix, I am typing this from a Starbucks.  Drinking coffee I didn't make (cause I couldn't at home) and quickly updating my blog.

I am also gathering knowledge for the next few days.  Hopefully, I will be plugged in again Monday.  If I can feed myself without my online recipes until then.

Ah, moving.

http://www.leadpaintcomics.com/comics/2011-07-25-moving.jpg

Well, it seems I'm moving.  We take over the space on September 1st, just in time for me to go back to work.  When it rains, it pours.  I will be in an out sporadically.  Today, my mama's here helping me clean and pack. 




I hate moving.

A Few Thoughts on the Zimmerman Case

I have been thinking about what to say about the Zimmerman case.... I mean what is there to say that hasn't been eloquently stated by some writers far more gifted than I am? I was never angry.  I was sad.  But I knew what would happen.  People said I was negative, and cynical. 

I am neither: I just know how entrenched in racism our legal systems are.  There is inequity in the justice systems of the US and Canada (even though, Canadians will say that these systems a very different.) I would note that in terms of racism, they are more similar than you would think.

Of course the Zimmerman verdict went the way it did.  History has shown that the law simply doesn't value the lives of black folks.  I would add that most other races other than white folks rarely fare well in the legal system.  Think of the Scotsborough boys, Lynch laws, the death of Emmett Till, and the arrests of numerous black panthers and civil rights activists. 

But Stephanie, those examples are from so long ago, surely it has changed for the better now? 

I don't want to think of legal racial equity as on a spectrum anymore.  If I continue to think of it that way, I'll get complacent-- I need to think in terms of right and wrong; working and broken.   Our legal institutions are broken in terms of race and equity.  When it comes right down to it, white folks and folks of other races are not equal in the eyes of the law. So instead of a spectrum of less or more racist, I choose to state that the system is still racist. Stated simply, it will be racist until it is not.  "Almost not racist" has made us lazy.

But even if folks still want to use the shifting spectrum of racism, who says its even that much better? Even with the light skin privilege I carry, I have still felt the sting of the unjust, unequal legal system.

For example:  One night I was standing with my husband (then boyfriend) at a bus stop. Two police officers stopped their car to "talk" to me. My husband thought nothing of it, why would he? He has had a great relationship with police officers. But I knew better, I told my partner that they were coming to bug me.  Of course, my boyfriend didn't believe me. But they did get out, and they did ask me what I was doing, where I was going, if I had ID, what I was carrying in my backpack, why I was out so late, where did I live... All of which I complied with, and answered with a lot of "yessirs," and "no sirs."  My companion asked the officers why they were so interested in me (something I would have never asked myself.) Their answer was because I fit the description of a "drug dealer and prostitute" that was seen in the area.   I knew who they were looking for, we had gone to school together.  I looked nothing like her.  She was tall and thin. The one thing we did have in common was our race.

When I told friends this story, they had many excuses- the cops were doing their job, they were being through, how could I be sure that it was about my race, and my favourite-- I should be happy they were doing their job so well! But that wasn't the last time that happened. I was suspected of a crime I didn't and couldn't have committed.  I've been followed and harassed by cops.  And every time, some of my white friends would tell me I was over reacting.   I couldn't possibly know that my race had anything to do with it.

But I do know that my race has everything to do with my interactions with the police.  Each time I had a problem, there had been reported and documented cases of my local police using racial profiling.  This is what Zimmerman did;  he profiled racially and reacted.  Why would the legal system convict a man for using one of their own practices?   

For North American society, racist inequality is ingrained in all of our institutions.  Law, (as evidenced most recently by the Trayvon Martin case;) education (we need a Black History month to help people remember to add us into the story;) media (that Cheerios commercial debacle, Paula Deen, there's a lot.)  Its everywhere.  Every institution tells me that my life is not worth the same as a white person's life.  And unfortunately, black folks have learned to live with that.  I've learned to live with that.

But I shouldn't live with that.  But the fight for racial equality seems insurmountable when I am constantly being told that its not that bad.  Trayvon Martin is dead.  It is that bad.

What my own fat shame taught me

I've tried to write an intro to this for a while.  I couldn't think of how to introduce this, or what made me write it down; but here it is.

 

In grad school,  I became really close with a boy in one of my classes.  He was smart, funny, interesting.  He was also handsome.  His lithe body would breeze into the classroom late, and no one criticize him for interrupting our session.  A few girls would blush (including the teacher) and he would sit and class would continue.   

Of course, I also thought he was handsome.  But he was also thoughtful; principled;  idealistic; passionate; witty; intelligent and brave.  Very few people got to know him though, he was handsome, and that apparently spoke enough about him.

As a fat girl, I had come to realize that the package one comes in is one fraction of their story.  As someone whose body is commented on, and graded; whose lifestyle apparently can be assumed from what I look like; I knew early on that the book can't actually be judged by its cover-- no matter how pretty the cover is. 

 

I am sad to admit, that it wasn't some grand enlightenment that helped me come to this conclusion.  It was shame.  All-compassing shame about my body, and therefore myself.  It's not hard to internalize fat-shame; we see and hear it every day- almost everywhere.   Some days, I'm strong and fierce.  Others, I hate all my clothes; I hate my hair; I hate everything I see in the mirror.  If I was thin this would all look better, I say to myself.  I skip breakfast, keep my head down and stay quiet- as if I could melt into the backgrounds.  

My shame taught me to listen the "advice" given to me by adults in my young life.  If I didn't have the looks, I should have the personality.  If you have to be fat, you might as well be smart, or funny, or artistic.  I never did my hair, put on makeup.  I took that precious time, and developed my personality and skills-- that's all I had to work with apparently.  I was a champion public-speaker and debater.  I sang.  I did theatre.  I was good at these things, but that was never enough.  When jokes about "the fat lady singing" made me cry, I was admonished, why would I choose something so public to do?  

My own shame taught me to ignore my body, and by extension other people's bodies too.  If I didn't comment on their body, then maybe they wouldn't comment on mine.  It was a tactic of self-preservation in a way.  Silence on the subject kept my tears at bay.  If I didn't bring up what people looked like, maybe my friends wouldn't tell me about the "new diet" they used that worked so well.  Maybe they wouldn't send me website about how successful others have been after gastric-bypass surgery.  Maybe, just maybe, they would see past my shell to what I thought was lurking beneath it.  

My shame taught me to talk to pretty boys like they were people.  Why shame?  I couldn't get giggly and silly like other girls did.  There was no way that a pretty boy would like my body.  He would never kiss me, so I would be their friend.  My shame taught me I was undesirable-- but my mind taught me that I was smart, charming, funny, interesting.  At least, I was worth talking to.

And this is how I came to know the handsome boy.  We studied together, and hung out like friends do.  Apparently, he flirted with me often.  My shame wouldn't let me see that.  He told me I was pretty.  My shame told me he was just being nice.  He invited me to events he organized.  My shame told me that he couldn't find anyone else to go. 

Before class, he walked over to my group, and asked if I wanted to go and have coffee that night.  I said sure.  The surprised thin, blond girl beside me asked if I was dating handsome boy.  My shame made me laugh and reply that we were "just friends" of course.  And her relief at the news was visible.  Handsome boy turned around and told her that it was a date.  That he had just asked me on a date.  Then he asked me if that was alright.  My shame made me feel confused.  Why was this a date?  Was he trying to make a statement?  Was he making fun of me?  I had trained myself so well to not trust any advances.  It had to be a trick.  I could not understand why someone would want my body.  I settled with the idea that he was going to try to see past my fatness.  

The surprise returned to my classmate's face, "why would he want to go out with you instead of m--." Her expression mirrored what I felt about my body.  But this time, instead of shame, I felt anger.  How dare someone utter that thought out loud.  We were all thinking it, but to say it? 

But it was exactly what I needed to hear.  

Once it was out there, I couldn't bury it deep within me anymore.  I had to face the unspoken understanding and relationship of my body in that space with those people.  I knew what they thought-- because my shame made me feel it too.   But my anger at that comment, and the gentle encouragement of my boy friend made me push that shame aside to comment on my own worthiness.  

I needed to hear my own self love out loud.  

I would love to say that I stood and delivered a triumphant speech that changed everyone's ideas about bodies and fatness.  Really what came out of me that day were tears and a muffled, "I am worth a date.  I am a good choice."  Followed by my leaving class and hiding out in the women's bathroom until he got fed up and came in there.  I told you he was brave.

I wish I could say that my shame never affected me again.  But that wouldn't be true.  I never went on that date.  I never confronted that classmate who I thought was my friend.  I graduated and tried to leave it behind me.   I wish I could say that I don't look for acceptance from other people.  But the fact is, I do.  I don't think I will ever be able to completely stop looking for it there.  But I'm wiser now.  So I only look for the acceptance I crave from people I love; like-minded fatties who understand the politics of their existence.  

And even though I have been able to work on keeping my fat shame away, some days it rears its ugly head.  Sometimes, I am confident mini-skirt wearing beauty, flirting and being my charming self.    Other times, I am that baggy sweatshirt wearing wallflower, who would do anything to fade into the background.   So when those shameful moments happens, I try and write it down and read it.  I have to hear it out loud-- otherwise I won't try to fight it.    

 

I need this today...

For other cute cartoons visit Penny Loafing!

Stress...

Pic link

...and that's how I feel about that.

Mayra over at Ponder Wonders has her Soul Food Link-Up every Monday.  If you have a cute or clever graphic that is inspirational, (or like mine, funny while making you think) you should go on over and link on up. 

80's Music Anger Management

I love Songza.  Love it.  I can choose what I want to hear and it plays it.

I am a little afraid that it can read my mind though.  Tonight, I wanted to hear some 80s music, and so I chose (duh) an 80s music playlist.  The playlist is called "80's Music Anger Management."

Here's the thing:  every song that has played is awesome.  EVERY. SINGLE. SONG. IS. AWESOME. 

Here's what has come on so far (links go to the You Tube Videos):

• Radio Ga Ga by Queen
• Working for the Weekend by Loverboy
• Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles
• Working in a Coal Mine by Devo
• Girls Just Want to Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper
• Shout by Tears for Fears
• Kids in America by Kim Wilde
• Our House by Madness
• Once in a Lifetime by The Talking Heads
• Tenderness by General Public
• A Little Respect by Erasure

Awesome, right?

Now "Walk like an Egyptian" is on, so you know what I'm going to do...

Ringing in a new year

I love the idea of New Year's Day!  A new start, time to make good on all those things you've been promising yourself.  It seems so hopeful to me.  And I'm a girl who loves hope.  So naturally, I see New Year's as a time to re-imagine what the upcoming year could be. 

I have a secret superpower: I am able to make and keep my new year's resolutions. 

Ok, its not really a superpower, its just knowing yourself enough to know how to set some realistic goals.  I don't usually set goals that impossible, no need to make myself feel like a failure.  Instead, I choose a few things that I want to improve about myself, and work on those.

Also, I make my list of resolutions really pretty so that I can hang them up on my bulletin board to remind myself what I'm working on.

This year, the list is kind of short, but still a challenge:

My resolutions are never overwhelming, and always something I think I can achieve.  So, this year I will:

1. Find an active hobby.

I have many hobbies that are stationary hobbies.  I love crafts, and knitting and sewing-- but not much movement happens there.  I need to find an activity that I like, that is active.  I run, but I don't ever enjoy that.  As a result, it is easy for me to go 2 weeks (like I have over the holidays...) not running.  I need something that is sorta social, active, and kinda fun.  And I need to be able to do it in the winter. 

Why an active hobby?  I think of it as a kind of test for myself.  I am starting to really like my body.  and one challenge for me is to take my body and do something active with it where other people will see me.  I run alone, inside, on a treadmill.   I want to love my body as it jiggles and wiggles while I'm moving. 

2.  Do one new thing.

This resolution is vague on purpose.  I don't really know what that new thing will be.  But, I really like to challenge myself, and I haven't done that recently.  I've been wanting to do something that scares me for a while.  No I'm not a masochist, I like trying to conquer some of the fears I have.  And one way I can do that is by facing them.  One year, I walked on the glass floor of the CN Tower, to face my fear of heights.  Its 1, 122 feet off the ground.  It did it.  And I felt awesome after I did it.  So I would like to do something like that again.  Maybe something to do with spiders...

3. Be self- affirming.

Honestly, this one will be the hardest.  I am the queen of self- depreciation.  I make jokes at my expense all the time.  And I never stop to think what it does to my state of mind.  Isn't that awful?  I seem to worry about everyone else's feelings but my own.  And then, when people don't consider my feelings, instead of being about to move past it, I fall apart.  I figure, that if I started to be nicer to myself, maybe just maybe, I can handle when other people are not as nice to me as they could be.

This is the resolution that will need the strictest game plan.   How will I know that I am being self-affirming?  Should I do a checklist?  A routine?  I may keep a journal, and write one thing I like about myself everyday.  I'm not sure how I will set it up yet. 

Do you have any practice that you use to protect your feelings of self appreciation?  I would love to hear about them...

Right now.

This is me right now.

Right now, I can't sleep.  I got an idea and I had to do something about it.  Otherwise, I would have stayed up worrying that I was going to forget my awesome idea, and it would never come into fruition.  Then I got to the computer and promptly forgot it. 

Instead, I decided to blog right now; about how I do get up at night to paint, or write or anything if my brain tells me I have to do so.  I know I have work in the morning, and that because of my midnight creativity I may need a bucket full of coffee to seem semi-human and semi conscious, but right now, creativity feels good.

Right now, there are drunk people yelling outside.  Its 1:30 in the morning.  I wonder why they aren't worried about being hungover tomorrow.  And I'm a little bit jealous that I don't go out and have fun late anymore because of tommorrow.

I am not complaining.

Right now, I have a totally fulfilling job.  I love what I do.  Sometimes my students totally surprise me.  For example, last week it was a boy's birthday in one of my classes.  I asked him to take the attendance record to the office.  While he was gone, the students in his class sang the National Anthem in French with no prompting from me.  To reward them, I gave them "Boutique Bucks" a coupon of sorts they can save and spend in my prize shop.  Without any word, each students put their newly acquired buck on the birthday boys' desk.  And when he came back from the office, he had 30 "Boutique bucks" on his desk.  It was really moving to see those kids think outside of themselves.

Right now I can hear D snoring.  He snores loud.  Its a calming sound though.  Its rhythmic, and that helps me relax.  It reminds me of home a little because my dad snored like a buzz saw.  My dad's snoring made me feel safe.  D's snoring kinda does that too.

 
Right now, there are  hundreds of lights on in the apartment building outside my window.  When I can't sleep, I look at it.  What are all those people doing?  We should all be asleep.  There will be lights on all night in that building.  I know 3 people that live there.  I wonder if their lights are on?

Right now, this is what's happening.  Its not much, but its a lot for someone who should be asleep.  I may try and write about what is happening in the day time. But right now, its all about my insomnia. 

What is happening "right now" for you?

Trying not to take haters to heart...

Buy the print from: http://shop.thesearethings.com/products/haters-gonna-hate-print

Sorry for the break, my friends.  I just needed some time away from all the mean things the blogosphere can be.  What is can be is petty, mean-spirited, rude, soul-destroying and disheartening.

Its hard not to feel a little sad when complete strangers take the time to write awful things about you, to you.

But it took me some time to remember that it can also be empowering, caring and thoughtful.

A few weeks ago I got an awful email about how wrong I was for posting what I did about my union and my job.  I was attacked for being selfish; for not caring about my students and so forth. 

Its not like I haven't heard that before.  

But the emails got worse.  A few people mined my blog for anything that they could use to attack me-- my writing about how I glorify fatness, and then about my depression; and because I write about and live these things, how I must be bad at my job. 

It was the craziest shit.  At first I was really really mad.  Then I got really sad.  I couldn't (and still really can't) understand why these people came after my blog; why they came after me.

What is most confounding is why spend the time and energy trying to break someone down? 

Luckily for me, I'm an adult with perspective, and critical thinking skills.  I also have an awesome support network of friends and family that help me remember that its just the internet.  I got lovely, encouraging emails from people I had never met.  I had people to help me remember that "haters are going to hate."

But then this happened. 

Now I'm mad again. (Anger is my default emotion as of late.)

Who has the right to use the internet, this tool, this vast bank of information as a weapon?  That's what is happening.  The internet has become a new weapon.  Its the perfect kind of weapon, because the people who wield it don't have to see the aftermath.  Any coward can use it.

And that's what this type of bullying is, cowardice.  These people are COWARDS.

When the "bullying" that happens costs people their lives, shouldn't we have a better name for it?  No wonder no one takes it as seriously- it has the same name as calling someone disparaging names.  And that is bad, but it is getting much worse.

Children are not being just "bullied" on the internet; they are being all-out harassed; and sexually harassed.  They are being Cyber-Assaulted.  

This is gone beyond bullying.  This is assault.  The cowards that perpetrate this type of harassment should be charged with a crime. 

I'm a teacher, here is what I think.

 
Bill 115 passed in Ontario yesterday.  What is interesting about this bill, is that it limits that freedom of teachers to strike.  I'm a teacher.  Here is what I want to respond (but the website won't let me right now) to people (ahem.) who are commenting that:

"Teachers are the spoiled brats of the working class" - "Financegal" 

And:

"Maybe so, but you also lose your dignity when you protest this bill by taking it out on the kids by cancelling extra curricular activities.  Far as I am concern, ever teach that does this proves to me they are not there for the kids and they should not be teachers.  No matter what issues there are between teachers, the union and the board, there is never a time you use the kids as a bargaining tool, that has to stop. That is what makes many teachers a disgrace."   - "Cael"

And my favourite:

"If we just gave the teachers what they want, they wouldn't throw a tantrum. That's NOT what we need to teach our children." - "RightofCenter"

I'm Stephanie Bass.  I teach French.  I'm new to teaching; this is my second career.  I don't get any of the "benefits" that teachers who are not new get.  I should.  Also, I don't know who said that the teacher's were not fighting about money.  Of course its about money.  It costs money to educate.  More money if you want children educated well.  

But I will concede.  I will stop being selfish and give up everything if I can negotiate my pay (instead of a faceless board determining my pay by my credentials alone) and be paid an hourly wage that takes into account my education and experience.  I have an M.A.  I was once a social worker, which is a handy skill-set working in an inner city school.  I have experience teaching at two top Canadian Universities (York and McMaster).  I speak English and French.  Also, I'm pretty charming so I feel comfortable asking and confident I could talk my way into the $20-30/ hour I would make in the private sector in a professional capacity.  I work from 7:30 in the morning until about 6:00 at night with my extra-curricular activities, marking and preparation.  Of course, this is a conservative estimate.  All of this means I should be getting a base salary of $60-70 000/year.

I pay for all my resources, office supplies and additional training, for which I would like to be reimbursed.  This year I have spent $3000 on training, and $2000 on office and school supplies for students who can't afford their own.  I would need to be reimbursed for the $300 I spent printing my own resources, as well as the $500 I spent on educator resources.  $67 300 for those of you playing along at home.

I also need to travel for meetings, conferences and training, for which I also pay.  That is another $1000 this year (but could be more).  $68 300.  Can I put in for mileage too?

What about the "extras" I pay for because I work in a poor area?  I buy birthday presents for kids that would get none.  I buy extra snacks for kids that don't get lunches.  I buy coats and clothing in the winter, shoes all year round, bathing suits, toiletries. Once, I had to buy a set of socket wrenches to help fix a students' bike.  Can I have an expense account for that?

Right now the total for me, without benefits, without sick days is almost $70 200/ year.  This is significantly more than I currently make as a teacher.  You wouldn't gripe about $30 000/year? 

But there is more: the government legislated that I can't strike?  Something that is written into the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms?  I am not allowed to express my frustration about my employment, my pay, or benefits?  In response, we will take the one thing we have to work with and stop it- no volunteering at the school where we also work.  Seems reasonable.  This is 10-15 hours a week in free labour that I will stop performing.  Although my volunteering is not mandatory, it is important.  And hopefully, people will see its value and come back to the table to discuss this conflict.

I am frustrated that I am not running my extra-curricular activities; emotionally torn really, because in my school, its all many students get in terms of music lessons, and sports teams.  My students deserve it, and need it.  And I get to feel terrible about it.  I get to look my students in the eyes and tell them that Glee club and Rock band are cancelled until further notice. So I get the sleepless nights and guilt about stopping these things.  But, what else can I do?  I need people to listen to my concerns.  Discussion hasn't worked.

One lesson that I teach my students is to stand up for yourself, even when people don't understand or agree with you.  I'm just standing up for myself.  I deserve some credit and some answers.  There are many who don't understand "what the deal with teachers are." This is my deal, one in thousands of "deals."  I hope it sheds some light.

Under the Weather

I'm so glad its raining out today.  Because I am sick.  I have (what I hope is) a really bad cold, and I've been sleeping on and off for most of the day.

So I've taken up residence on my couch, where I will watch hours of Community, and play video games.  Then I will have a nap.  This sounds like an awesome day, if it weren't for one fact:  I feel like garbage. 

In other news, you may have noticed that I haven't been posting as often here.  That's because last week I got great news:  I was offered a full-time permanent teaching position at a public school here in town.  This is a big deal, since it is very difficult to get an interview, let alone an actual job. 

Now I am a permanent French teacher!  I really love it.  I teach in an inner-city school, which is my preference. It's a tough environment sometimes, but I went to an inner city school as a kid, and I think that these schools totally deserve great teachers who understand the lives of their students; and can serve as an example of success!  I have great co-workers, and administrators; and even though the provincial government is being a bunch of political d-bags, I'm happy. 

So, I'm sorry if it seems to be a little sparse around here for a while, I have to set up my year (administratively) and focus on work for a little bit. 

If you really knew me...

...you'd know that:

• I am a perfectionist.  I am harder on myself than anyone else.  
• I will call people out on racist, sexist, homophobic, ablest comments or jokes.  I don't care if it makes other people uncomfortable, I still do it.
• I used to be an exterminator.  
• I am very particular about the friends I keep.
• I have a bad temper sometimes, and I work hard to keep it in check.
• I expect the best from people, because I try and give my best.

• I hate having my picture taken.
• I am not an introvert or an extrovert.  Its not clear where I fall on that spectrum.
• I worked in Congo with child soldiers when I was 24.  I don't like talking about it.
• I had a brain tumor.
• I speak french fluently.
• I like blogging, but I have never been able to keep a journal.
• I devour books at a rapid rate.
• I still like to watch cartoons.
• I don't feel as old as I am.  

• I love singing.  I sing everyday.
• I collect vintage pyrex.
• I love kids, but I don't want to have my own.
• I can't decide if I want to live in a condo, or own a house.
• I don't understand the nation-wide bacon obsession. 
• I used to be a vegetarian.  I still don't eat beef.  I think its gross.
• I hate the gym.  I would rather get my exercise outside.

• I love crafts and painting and drawing, but I don't have much confidence at it.  Only my students make me feel good about it.
• I love tattoos.  I have one on each arm and a large one on my back between my shoulder blades.  I want to get another one on my upper left arm.  Flowers, because I love flower tattoos.
• I like my "style." Its not unique; its more comfortable.  And cheap.  I buy really cheap clothes.
• Usually I feel great about myself.  But there are some days I don't.
• I have a really loud speaking voice.  Its good for teaching.
• I didn't learn how to read until I was 11 years.  Before then I faked it.
• I have eidetic memory, I can remember everything I hear.
• I play piano, guitar, flute, ukulele, alto and tenor saxophone all mediocre-ly.  I love playing the ukulele.

Tell me something about you.  I really want to know.    

6 Lessons I Learned from 80s Television

Hey, remember my awesome post about Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure?  Well, here's more 80s nonsense:

6 Lessons I Learned from 80s television:

1.  No matter how bad it got, the plucky orphans will be okay.

If there is one thing that Punky Brewster, Webster, Arnold and Willis from Diffr’ent Strokes  taught me, it’s that cute, sassy orphans will get the family they need, and change the lives of their adopted families for the better.  This was comforting to me.  Throughout my childhood,  I spent my time being plucky and spirited just in case... Not that I ever wanted to be an orphan, I was just covering my bases.  

2. There doesn’t always need to be a boss.

Who was the boss?  Was it Angela?  Or Tony?  Maybe it was man-crazy Mona? No one ever knew.  You know why, because the boss wasn’t on the show.  It was all of us watching.  The boss was in our hearts. 

3. If something goes wrong, just go back in time and fix it.

Quantum Leap and Sliders knew how to change history.  Forget these new movies like The Butterfly Effect, those nerds are over-thinking it.  What could go wrong? Just go and fix the error.  Don’t re-write the whole story, just edit.  Everything will be fine.  Why do you worry so much?

4. Mom and Dad can fix your problems in 22 minutes.  

Sure you’ll spend 16 minutes trying to get yourself out of trouble, but in the end you will have to tell them.  And in 5 minutes, your parents will be able to undo your mistake and the outcome of your crazy half-cocked plan to get out of trouble.   They will leave enough time to tell you they love you, and that they hope you’ve learned from your mistake.  Of course you have.  Hug it out.

5. There is such thing as “Justifiable Braticide.”

The Cosby Show taught me that parents were allowed to kill their bratty children.  Cliff Huxtable told Theo, “I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.”

What a comforting thought for a child.

6. There were no rules for nicknames; it was wide open.

On Growing Pains, Mike Seaver's best friend was "Boner."  On The Cosby Show, Theo's best friend, "Cockroach." Yep.

Why I Will (Probably) Never Have a Popular Lifestyle Blog; And Why I Wouldn't Want To

As per usual, Jes from The Militant Baker wrote a post that got me thinking about authentic blogging.  Jes' post addressed the backlash she received after commenting on another blogger's inauthentic blog; an opinion with which I agreed.  I found this post just after I read a great article from Bitch Magazine about women lifestyle bloggers.  The crux of the article was, the more popular the lifestyle blog was, the more the blog lacked authenticity.

The article looked at several popular lifestyle blogs and noted some of the trends that allowed a blog to become popular; they are watered down and overly consumerist in their publication.  In order to understand what I'm talking about, you should read this thoughtful and insightful article first.

Welcome back! According to current trends on the internet in the blogosphere of lifestyle blogging, here is why this blog, will probably never be popular (and why I probably don't want it to be):

1.  Bassability is a not for profit blog.  I don't blog because I want to make money or net an income from this page.  So, why do I blog then?  the purpose of my blog originally was to explore and record my hobbies and interests in a public way.  I'm kind of a show off, really.  But this blog has become so much more to me now that I have "moved in." Now, I see my blog as a place to document things I make, and ideas I have.  I write about my thoughts and feelings.  sometimes my thoughts and feelings are quite serious and controvertial, and may offend some of my readers.

I don't write anything to purposefully offend anyone; what I write is about who I am, and about that I won't compromise.  I happen to be a bi-racial, atheist, feminist who believes in some of the tenets of socialism and works for equity.  As I learn more about these things, I write them down because through writing I understand these ideas better.  Writing helps me learn, and sometime my learning is verbose.  There is sometimes a lot of writing.

2.  This blog is sometimes a political space.  I have written about my tenuous relationship with religion and Christianity; about feminism; about fat oppression; about racial identity and racism.  These topics will always be part of this blog, because these are part of my life and lifestyle.  My life with never not deal with these topics.

Race and racism is a topic that is especially important to me; it is a part of everything I write.  I cannot separate myself from my racial identity.  For honesty and authenticity's sake, it is important for me to recognize the other aspects of my social location, that I am middle-class, and have an amount of privilege awarded to me by way of my financial security.  I am highly educated; and even though I use this to help bring about equity in the world, it is still something from which I profit.  These privileges are also something that is part of this blog.  I recognize that.

3. I am not superwoman.  I don't live in a cute or quaint house.  We live in a one bedroom apartment, out of economic necessity.  I do not have full time employment, I work contract-to-contract, so sometimes I'm broke.  I live with depression.  I probably can't have children.  I was sexually assaulted.  I want my blog to show the good and the bad of my life.  So sometimes Bassability is a downer.  But I think this is important- that's life.   I don't try to focus on things that bring me down, but sometimes they are in the front of my mind.  So they end up being something I write about.  I like that realness, life is not perfect; why should my blog be?

4.  I really hate cats.  I don't have pets (anymore).  It seems that the recipe for a popular blog is to have cats or kids.  I don't have either.  For this reason, my blog is probably doomed to fail.

Do I want to be a popular blog?  It depends on what I mean by popular.  Do I want a community of women to read my blog and gain something from it?  Absolutely!  It brings me joy.  I love the support that the blogging community can have.  I would love to build that community.  So here are some authentic blogs that I love to read:

 http://www.themilitantbaker.com/





http://curvyladiesrule.blogspot.com/

http://gritsandmoxie.blogspot.com/

http://lollylikesfatshion.blogspot.com/




http://lifethegoodandthebad.blogspot.com/

     http://www.milesfromordinary.com/

  http://cmonfatso.com/




http://www.simplyymayra.com/

http://stephaniealena.blogspot.com

http://vocalauthenticity.blogspot.com/




And these are just a few.  Please feel free to add your favorite "authentic blog" links in the comments.  I'll collect them and make a new page.  Let's support those authentic blogs!