Inspiration Station

I just got done meeting with some of the teachers that are helping with my General English classes. Wow. They have rocked my feeble clerk world. The ideas that they have for these kids is incredible. It's weird, but I feel kind of small around them, not sure of my place in this whole academic scheme. Regardless, life is awesome because of them.

This summer I went to a two-day workshop about including all students, regardless of ability, in your classroom. It's part of a push to not only include kids with special needs, but training teachers to work together to make the classroom an environment that is best for all your students. These people I'm working with are so awesome that I can't imagine somebody not wanting to have more help with a class. In fact, the thought of running a class solo while knowing a second brain is there ready to jump in is rather sickening.

The ego is a horrid thing, and mine is huge and bizarrely hideous. But cooperation makes it happen. The tragedy of "mine" and the impression of being able to do it all is mind-blowing. The world changes for the worst, people spout philosophies of working for the best, and so many continue to hoist the world over their heads expecting it to never crush them.
School hasn't started yet, and I'm already thankful for these teachers and their help. I hope I help them as much as they do me.

Standard Beginnings

Most blogs seem to begin with a post about why they are blogging. And though it pains me to copy-cat so blatantly, it is the undoubtedly the first monster worth meditating on.

I always enjoy writing, but I so frequently feel no urge to do it. I'll begin a story, or book in some cases, write my little brain out for several weeks or months, but before completion, I bail. I lack follow-through. My guess is that I don't know what I'll do with a work once I complete it-so I don't complete it.

I started writing a lot about two years ago. Before that, I didn't care at all. It was when my good friend from high school moved to town and we started talking about books, writing, expression, and the like. It was thrilling and inspiring. As we spoke, stories and concepts floated into my brain like that stray black hair that rides the waves in a hot tub, and I couldn't get away from it. Soon, another friend suggested a writer's club, a new outlet of creative energies. We began and got to work. I chronicled my some of my substitute teaching days, fiddled with a novel, a short story or two, and eventually dove into a book idea that I thought promising that still dominates my thoughts. But something happened. She moved away. He is loaded with projects. I lost my drive.

I'm here for accountability. I feel the need to write, but to write in a place where I feel I need to. My meditations will hopefully amuse and inspire as my friends have amused and inspired me.

Welcome to Monster Meditation.