It's been a long time. Like a fool, I went and let the semester get the best of me. I buried myself under piles and piles of busy-ness and left no time for my soul, which requires a great deal of self reflection and friend time.
On the one hand, I have found a great outlet for service by focusing a good deal of my energy on trying to help my international students get acquainted with their new temporary "home." It comes from feeling so desperately alone in the middle of gigantic London. Not because Liam was an asshole,he wasn't, but because no one understood the cultural shock/stress I was experiencing. I have found great joy this semester in trying to introduce my students to different social aspects of Memphis. I got tired of hearing so many of them complaining about how boring it is. Yes, Memphis can be terribly boring, but it really just forces you to develop strong ties with friends and to lean on each other for entertainment. And if you don't have a car, it forces you to walk...a lot. Don't worry. I'm going to be hitting some of them up for payment soon...aka: teaching me a new language. I've already convinced a number of them to cook for me. WOO HOO!!
On the other hand, I have lost a great deal of the gravity that I was experiencing throughout the beginning of the semester. There have been moments where I've touched down and moments in which I have been floating aimlessly trying to grab onto what I thought I had figured out...make sense? I think teaching five classes and taking two online courses is a bit of an over-reach. I'm not sure what I was trying to prove at the beginning of the semester. I'm over that now.
Getting caught up in a new relationship has been challenging and enlightening. I find myself hyper aware of all the things I do...all the time...in every relationship to basically self-destruct what's happening. It's kind of fantastic. I get to catch myself early on and begin to explore ways around it. I have recently discovered my own horrific obsession with fatalism. I have this insane propensity to want to be miserable because it often makes more sense than being happy. I like to blame other people for that, but it's pretty much my problem. I gotta work on it. Luckily I'm hanging out with a pretty understanding guy. I feel a bit liberated from my past need to cling. I feel encouraged to let go.
Next semester I am only taking on what I know I can handle, and I am assigning fewer papers for my 1020 classes. I think I'm also going to have them submit the papers online from now on. I like commenting on the computer. It's not fair to make them keep trying to figure out my handwriting. Also, I keep losing my pens.
So. It's almost time for me to not get paid for a while, which means: 1. I will have a lot more time to ramble on and on about my thoughts and feelings on this blog. 2. I will have a lot more time to clean and, hopefully, find my lost text book. 3. I will have a lot less money. 4. Someone may have to buy my drinks when I go out. See you all soon. I'm excited
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
In Honor of our Newly Elected President
I've been reading through some of Langston Hughes poetry to share with my writing workshop tonight, and I came across this one. It means a lot more now than it did when I read it for my Harlem Renaissance course a couple of years ago. It's also pretty appropriate for the times. I thought I'd share.
Let America Be America Again
by Langston Hughes
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!
Let America Be America Again
by Langston Hughes
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!
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