An Afternoon with Young Writers and Rick Bragg

Earlier this year I had my Creative Writing students all submit a poem to a writing competition. I have to admit that I originally made them do this so that I could get them writing something, but also so that I could do my job as a teacher and keep my students "involved". When I found out that three of my students from that class had won awards, I was floored. I've had students win writing awards before, but this really struck close to home. The entire reason I chose this job at Davidson was because they offered me the Creative Writing classes. And over the years it's become more of a beast than the refreshing writing workshop that I envisioned. It's not often that I get affirmation for the work that I do with my students.
One student in particular is an amazing writer. I've tried to motivate him and help him with his craft. It's just hard to give brillant writers the time and instruction that they need when you have twenty nine other kids that really could care less and are more interested in "I can go to the bathroom?" (a statement asked as a question with inflection at the end)
So this afternoon I piled the three kids up in my car and took them to a local private school. I wasn't very familiar with Rick Bragg other than hearing from friends about how wonderful his books are. http://www.randomhouse.com/knopf/authors/bragg/
But I was motivated and entertained this afternoon. First of all, my three students won the Honorable Mention, Third Place, and First Place awards for poetry. It made me swoon to see them walk up to the stage and accept their awards and get a copy of Mr. Bragg's book, It's All Over but the Shoutin'. As I looked around at all the Honors students dressed in their plaid skirts and pressed khakis, I was overwhelmed with pride at two of my students who stood out among the rest with their professionally braided hair and popular colored contacts. They weren't meant or expected to be a part of this elite group, and yet their writing had stood out among the majority of Honors students. And it was even more endearing when one of my students, who might never win another award or certificate in her life, turned to me and asked, "What does Honorable Mention mean?" In so many words I explained to her that it meant she needed to take that certificate home and frame it.

As Bragg began to address the crowd with his suggestions for writing, he reaffirmed my confidence in teaching Creative Writing, when he told the young writers to always remember to "Show" and not "Tell." This is something I learned myself in college writing classes and had always made a point to teach to my students. To hear a well-known author suggest the same gave me a little satisfaction in knowing that perhaps I am on the right track with my teaching style. He continued on to tell wonderful ancedotes of his writing career and life; once even glancing up (as we sat in a private school's chapel) and "swore to God." At one point as he asked the crowd of young writers to raise their hand if they hoped to become a full-time writer someday, I found myself raising my hand and then blushing when I realized he was speaking to them and not the teachers.

I left with a little more confidence in my abilities, more motivation in my opportunities to write, one aspiring writer with more talent than he knows of, and two girls with certificates stuffed in their purses, begging me to stop at McDonalds.

Bread Bitch

This is what happens when you get cocky with cooking. Morphin' dough.

Christmas in the Quarter

What is better than fabuously dressed gay men celebrating Christmas?
Fabuously gay mannequins celebrating Christmas.

New Years Moon Pie

I'm still shocked that one of our city councilmen, Fred Richardson, was actually convinced to spend $9,000 on a giant paper moon pie. Yeah, for awhile there it sounded pretty impressive; a large moon pie would be hoisted above the city, and then dropped at midnight. I mean, come on, this is Mobile, what more could we really expect. But even those expectations couldn't be met. Instead a piece of paper with stapled paper was "rigged" minutes before midnight. Witnesses say it was so far across the bay, that there wasn't much to be seen.

Yet again, another leader in our town wastes thousands of dollars that could be used elsewhere. And I work for the largest public school system in the county and there isn't a laptop available for me to borrow so I can meet my technology objectives.

What happens when I begin reading articles on the internet...

Through a weird chain of events today I started researching dog food on the internet today. Mainly because I found out that IAMS supports some pretty cruel animal testing (http://www.peta.org/). And I'm not one to rant on and on about PETA. I do agree that they can be extremely irrational. And I'm usually not one to believe in all the "holistic" hype, but the more that I read on various websites, the more I realized that the dog food that I was using (IAMS), which I thought to be a healthier brand of dog food, is actually crap. I used to use Science Diet because that's what I thought vet's recommended, but I found that that was a joke as well.
I didn't want to spend any more money than I already do feeding three large dogs, but I did want to try to find a healthier brand of food to feed them. If you are interested in learning more about what we should be feeding our dogs, then check out these articles. http://www.healthyhappydogs.com/DogFood
http://www.healthyhappydogs.com/APIarticle
If you just want to see what kind of rating your dog food has, then check out the website below. The dog food that I chose to buy is almost comparable in price to what I was paying. Nature's Variety makes the brand I purchased, called Prairie. It is a five star brand. IAMS is a one star brand. A little scary, especially considering all of the dog food scares that we have had in the recent past. That in itself is due to multi-international outsourcing by major dog food companies, like IAMS and EUKANUBA.
http://www.dogfoodanalysis.com/

Making Me Your Jack-O-Lantern 10-13-1999

I am a swollen orange gourd. Solid, Lush,
and Mellow. I wait for your hands to veer me.
You turn me, searching for a place to enter.
Finding a smooth, unflawed surface,
steadying yoru warm hand at my side,
you sink yoru knife into me. Puncturing my flesh, a slow
descent into the fruit of me, until your knife
succumbs to the hollow cavity inside.
You cut for me, a delicate nose, and eyes
too beautiful to be my own, and though
I was born to smile; I receive luscious,
slightly parted lips. Keeping me from words.
Finishing my face, you reach deep inside me-
grasping small, tender, pale seeds that surrender
to your pull. Your hand wet with my inner secrets will
soon be dry, and I'll be stuck
in the creases between your fingers-
loose strings of ripe fruit crusted under your nails.
Complete, you place a fragrant solid wax
in my center, granting me radiance.
Resting me on display, I wait
for someone jealous of your creation,
to steal me, smashing the weak shell, of who I as,
in disgust, on the street.

Late night

It's almost 2am on a Sunday morning and I'm pissed. The problem is, I"m really not sure what it is that I'm pissed at. I really don't have many worries other than the typical credit card debt from too much shopping. I mean, I have a beautiful house that I love more than anyone should love an inantimate object, a nice car, a good job; and above all, I have the love of good friends and family. There is not a moment in my day where I could not call someone and have a knock on my door if I needed them. But for some reason I feel like I'm waiting on something. And the thing that pisses me off, is that I really don't know what it is that I'm waiting for.
Sometimes I sorta feel like I'm waiting for the life that I want to live, to start. There are so many things that I want to do. I want to live so many place, just pick up and move. I want to travel and experience new cultures and see things that I have never seen, or possibly never will get the chance to see again. I want to drive to Colorado, lie in a field of wildflowers and write poetry. I mean, how cheesy can you get. But that's what I want. And the thing I can't figure out, is what is keeping me from it. I have a good job and a comfortable salary, but I think that I'm scared to do things. Everytime I think that I am just going to up and do something that I know in my heart I want to do, I convince myself otherwise, thinking that it wouldn't be the "wise" decision. What the hell is the wise decision? What am I waiting on?
Last night I decided I was going to take all the extra money I earn working four extra part time jobs and put it towards a trip to Italy. I studied Art History in college and I've always wanted to see Italy. What have I waited on? I think it's someone to see it with. And that's what scares me, is it smart to just head out to another country alone? Will I regret all the time that I spend alone when I could have "waited" to see it with someone else? But who? I watch as friends of my head off to other countries without another thought, and I stew in jealousy, knowing full well I could do that same thing.
I think what it sums up to is that I need to make a change. I'm too damn comfortable. I need to shake things up a bit. I'm starting or shall I say motivating myself to write again. Which is all I ever wanted in life. God, what I wouldn't give to be a travel writer. And why not?
Why am I so scared to do what I want to do with my life?
" I want to be the volcano who lavishes her boiling rock soup love on everyone, and I want to be the lover of volcanos, who loves best what burns her as it flows. "