My first book.

Ok, today in school ...

I was yelled at and mocked by another student.
A student came to class long enough to get instructions on finding a fiction book, then turned around and walked away.
Two students got into a fist fight. There was blood.
A girl in my homeroom cried because she was referred to as "meaty". She is a size 6.

I think I should start writing a book. It will be dedicated (in part) to Coty for listening to me bitch about the kids at school. The title shall be:

The S#@* They Never Told You About Teaching

First day nightmare!

I can't remember - in the past two years - having a nightmare the day before school started. Last night, however, I did. Thankfully it wasn't of me showing up naked/in my underwear to school. It was actually kind of funny ...

I'm in class with 25ish kids (because the desks are all full). They won't settle down, and so I try staring at them. It doesn't work. I try huffing and puffing and sighing, but that doesn't work either. Then, I decide to yell. "QUIEEEEEEEET!" Nothing. They just keep on going. They aren't talking quietly, mind you, they are all shouting and laughing and having a grand old time. Then it happens ... I cup my hands over my mouth and in the biggest, loudest voice I can muster scream "SHUT UP!" It works. They look at me, and settle down. Too bad for them I'm already fuming! "That's it," I say. "I'm done. I will see ALL OF YOU IN DETENTION ON MONDAY!" (Apparantely my dream takes place on a Friday). So now, I have 25ish kids coming for detention. Except, there are three I ask to stay after class ... "You don't even have to come. You weren't doing anything, so you're totally free."

Later, in the dream and in the school day of that dream, I'm in my Vice Principal's office trying to explain to him why in the world I have that many kids for a detention. So, I explain the entire story to him ...

Then I woke up to my 5:50 alarm. It was time to shower and head in for the first day with a new crop of freshies.

What is this feeling?

I spent the better part of today feeling a little empty. I can pinpoint why, too, which makes me feel a little better.

With school starting there are several things that I find myself thinking about and thus feeling kind of sad and ... empty.

1. I am returning school, which is exciting in many ways. However, the return to school also reminds me of the amazing people I was fortunate enough to work with this summer with the Maine Writing Project. For three weeks (four counting our virtual week), we talked and laughed and brainstormed and just generally had fun, all while becoming better teachers. The energy I felt from and with all of the Fellows was so motivating, and I'm missing that motivation as I prepare for students. I definitely still have some left from those weeks, but wish that I found the same kind of motivation and inspiration at my school.

2. While missing my MWP friends, my other friends are slowly leaving for school. Michelle, Tony, Coty, and Sarah have already left. Madi leaves next week. Aimee is home this year, which is definitely grrrrrreat. BUT, between her work/rehearsal schedule and my school schedule I don't know how often we'll get together.

And so ... empty. Not altogether lost, but a little empty. I just get so attached so quickly ... and that attachment often isn't reciprocated. The combination makes for some heartache for me, but I don't think I would change it. When I'm in the moment with people, it's totally worth it.

Lasting Effects

This morning, while I was walking the dog, I got to thinking about all of the people who have been in my life. All of the family, friends, teachers, EVERYONE. For me, people are HUGE. I know I wouldn't be the person I am without every single person who has ever been a part of my life. The thing I wondered, and wonder, about is whether it's the same for everyone.

When I think about my life 10 years ago (that would be 15, going into sophomore year) I can remember Tina and Joe. They were people who lived in my neighborhood, and who were very important in my life at that time. Joe was my best friend, and Tina - his mom - was like another Mom to me. We've lost touch. I haven't seen or heard from either of them in about 8 years. But, they are still important to me. I have fond memories of them both and learned a lot about myself from each of them.

5 years ago I would have been in college. I would be going into a second semester at UMF after a transfer from UVM. Marty, Kate, Dith, and Rachael are just a FEW of the VTers who were (or are) important to me. Kerry, Erin, Jordan, Hannah .... my UMF crew. I do still keep in touch with a few of these people, but not all. I made a choice to cut certain people out of my life but that doesn't mean they haven't gotten me to where I am.

2 years ago I was just starting at China Middle School ... I can't even begin to tell you how many people - staff and students - changed my life there.

The point I'm going for is this ... I still think about these people all of the time, and I sometimes wonder whether or not I'm thought of. Have I had an impact on people? Do they think back on their lives so far and remember a time we spent together or some thing I did for or said to them? I do, but is it because I'm so emotional and sentimental or is it something everyone does?

Fried Brains and Words

Ok, so ... I'm currently sitting in day 3 of MWP. I'm so tired I'm not entirely sure I'm writing complete sentences at this point. I definitely knew that this experience would an intense and rigorous one, but I never get it all the way until I'm there. And, whoa nelly, am I here.

We end each day at 4. Today our last hour has been dedicated to writing, and I just feel so uninspired. It's a horrible feeling to want to tell stories and put words on paper, but not be able to do that. There are things I could write about, but I can't seem to commit to anything. I suppose I haven't found that THING I want to discuss yet. It's also been a really long time since I did any writing that wasn't academic.

I'm just really tired and feeling frustrated with myself and the process of writing. I don't know what to do and it's horrible. I know all of these prompts and techniques, but can't seem to employ any of them myself. In Coty's words ... uuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh.

MWP Day 1

I'm home from and have survived the first day of the Maine Writing Project Summer Institute. As first days go it was pretty awesome. There were learning autobiographies (including mine, which was kind of awesome and has been included below), there was chatting, there was discussion. Basically, it was a good day.

I think we have a fun group of people, and I'm looking forward to getting to know them over the next month or so. I have to journal for MWP, so I'm going to go use my creative juices to that end, but haven't posted here in a while. Boston info to come as soon as I can get the time.

Here's my autobiography ... (it was a spoken presentation, complete with me tossing pebbles into a bowl of water).

Intro:
In college, a club I was in talked a lot about the ripple effect. If you drop a pebble, no matter how small, into water the ripple created will go on forever unless it’s stopped by something or joins another ripple. The direction, the speed, even size of the ripple can change in the blink of an eye. I think that life is like that. Every single second of our lives we are, being influenced by, changing because of, or learning from other people. Perhaps it isn’t always obvious that people are responsible, but at the end of the day the choices we, and others, make impact our lives, sometimes in ways that may never be understood. Sometimes in ways the never end.


First period creative writing senior year at Bangor High School changed my life. The 15 or so students in the class were all very different, but one teacher and one subject brought us together. For 40 minutes everyday nothing we wrote was ever wrong or bad or weird. We built a community with Mrs. Manhart, and no subject was left unwritten.

Our unit on memoirs was the most powerful experience of my high school career. Every piece was about my mother, and every piece helped me to let go of her a little more. I wrote about the day she died, her laugh – which I inherited – and even about how I imagined her when she was pregnant with me. Every time I wrote, I felt a little bit lighter, and a little more whole.

At the end of the unit, we put together a portfolio of our pieces. I’ll never forget what Mrs. Manhart wrote in mine. She said, “Nat, your whole collection carries a unifying theme – loss and healing and moving on.” I’m not sure any person in that classroom ever realized how much they each really helped me be able to move on. If I hadn’t felt safe, comfortable, and loved by my teacher and my peers, I’m might never have been able to process the death of my Mother completely.

Writing about and sharing my story helped me to feel whole again. I was only able to do that because our little community taught me that it’s ok, good even, to share your darkest moments with others. It’s ok because, people, given the chance, will support one another in ways we can’t even imagine. Ways that, like the unbroken ripple, continue to amaze and inspire us 7 years later.


I spent the first three semesters of college at the University of Vermont. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. My mother’s death made me feel that I needed to be away from my family to prove that I could be on my own and survive.

My time at UVM was amazing. I learned so many new things about myself, and made memories that will forever stay with me. Afternoons of watching Trading Spaces with Marty, braving the winter wind for a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, and weekly dinners at Friendly’s with my floor mates made UVM a very special to me. But, I missed home. I missed my family, and everyday it got harder.

I spent a lot of time stewing over whether or not I wanted to transfer to a school in Maine because of all of the people it would affect. I had created a family in Vermont, but I also had a family at home that I missed very much. I tried to weigh my options, and I asked for advice
from everyone I knew. One day, my Nana said something to me that has stuck with me through every major decision in my life, and is something that I have repeated to myself, and others, in times of uncertainty. She said, “Natalie, I can’t tell you what to do. You have to live with yourself a lot longer than anyone else, so you need to do what is going to make you happy in the long run.” My Nana’s advice acted as the force that changes the direction of the ripple. My direction shifted to the University of Maine at Farmington.


Jordan, Christie, and I had been inseparable senior year at UMF. Christie and I, especially. We went to concerts together, were class officers, and even went on a cruise to celebrate graduating. A relationship between Christie and Jordan a year later changed all of that. It went well for a while, but when things got tense I was put in the middle and blamed for a lot of things that weren’t my fault. I tried to make peace with both of them, and thought we were on our way to resolution. Then, two years ago in August, I got a letter in the mail.

For six typed pages, these two people, who I had loved, brought to my attention all of the things they thought I needed to work on. They saw problems in my attitude, my career, and even addressed my daily choices. I was devastated and I could hardly believe that people claiming to love me could point out all of the flaws they saw in me.

I am not perfect, and I know that there are things about myself I need to change; there are things I want to change. But I never wanted to hear about every one of them from people I loved, who were supposed to love me. To me, loving someone means loving all of them. Even the parts that drive you crazy should be embraced, because it’s all part of one package.

There are times in life when a gentle ripple becomes something bigger. Sometimes it can become something damaging. But, if you wait long enough the waters will calm and you walk away, as I did, a little stronger and wiser.


End:
As I started thinking about my life as a learner, people kept popping into my head. Friends, family, and teachers … everyone who has been in my life has taught me something. See, I believe that we, as human beings, are here for one reason. Each other. We are here to share our knowledge with one another – the good and the bad. Everything we learn is to be shared, and everything shared is to be taken in eagerly and earnestly. People, no matter how briefly they are part of our lives, affect the person we become … the person that we learn to be. Like the pebble dropped into water, the individuals with whom we surround ourselves can have an impact that never ends.