I love this city, but feel I don't fit in. Everyone is younger, or older...richer or poorer...fatter or thinner...but mostly thinner. They all look way more hip, even in their too tight cotton skirts or too loose linen dresses. I've never seen so many bony legs in my life.
I love the busyness, I love the excitement, I love the life. I can get lost in it. A spectator. Watching. Taking it all in. But not partaking. Not living. Just watching. It's safe that way.
On my list of to-dos there are many sights. Who knows if I will ever have this chance again. I want to fit thenm ALL in. I want to see and be all that is NY...in 14 days or less. I don't want to carry the fear of those who are with me. I don't want to guard and plan(ad nasium) and pretend I don't see the life swirling around me. I don't want to speed walk past, from place to place, for fear I may pause, I may see, I may be seen.
I want to live, I want to be.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
New York - Day 4 - writing practice
Today my day was filled with blacks and golds, reds and grays. It was small moments that were vivid with color...and taste, if thoughts and memories were colors or tastes. If they were a food, they would have been candy, licorice and butterscotch or meat and potatoes. Yet the big moments have no color at all, no texture, no taste. They are oatmeal...or mush. And they will not last in my mind, my memory.
In one case they are the gates of Barnard. (OMG Barnard College! - the legendary...am I really here?) The gates are shiny black with peaks of gold. They scream of both protection and promise, but they gleam, both black and gold with pride and promise. They are beef wellington. They are protection guarding delicious expectation.
In another case the pictures are fiery red, but the red of solid brick, not that of fire engines. The structure that is Teacher's College is a fixture, a bastion, a landmark. Regal, dignified, a fortress. It is the meat and potatoes of education and instruction. It is solid, protective and still contains substance and promise. Intellectual challenge.
And yet, I find that I'm pleasantly surprised by the rats. Really? Subway rats are cute! They didn't look big and nasty...and then outside the gates of Columbia today stood two huge, gray, inflatable rats. Ten feet tall. They swayed a little as the wind blew against them. What a surprise! Why were they there? They were like meringue...white (or gray) and fluffy...and yet not sweet and somewhat tasteless. Both comical and unexpected.
But in spite of this, I feel encased by brown, the color of cardboard in the cage of the routine, trapped...cramped for space, confined. It's graham cracker without sugar. It's rye toast.
Yet the sounds are magical. They are a kaleidoscope,the spectrum, a calliope of sound....they are sirens, and carousals, and children and traffic. birds chirping. Both background and song.
It's the colors that I remember that shade the days. How do I make my small moments bigger and my big moments smaller? How do I give color to the black and whites and shades of gray to give color to my days?
In one case they are the gates of Barnard. (OMG Barnard College! - the legendary...am I really here?) The gates are shiny black with peaks of gold. They scream of both protection and promise, but they gleam, both black and gold with pride and promise. They are beef wellington. They are protection guarding delicious expectation.
In another case the pictures are fiery red, but the red of solid brick, not that of fire engines. The structure that is Teacher's College is a fixture, a bastion, a landmark. Regal, dignified, a fortress. It is the meat and potatoes of education and instruction. It is solid, protective and still contains substance and promise. Intellectual challenge.
And yet, I find that I'm pleasantly surprised by the rats. Really? Subway rats are cute! They didn't look big and nasty...and then outside the gates of Columbia today stood two huge, gray, inflatable rats. Ten feet tall. They swayed a little as the wind blew against them. What a surprise! Why were they there? They were like meringue...white (or gray) and fluffy...and yet not sweet and somewhat tasteless. Both comical and unexpected.
But in spite of this, I feel encased by brown, the color of cardboard in the cage of the routine, trapped...cramped for space, confined. It's graham cracker without sugar. It's rye toast.
Yet the sounds are magical. They are a kaleidoscope,the spectrum, a calliope of sound....they are sirens, and carousals, and children and traffic. birds chirping. Both background and song.
It's the colors that I remember that shade the days. How do I make my small moments bigger and my big moments smaller? How do I give color to the black and whites and shades of gray to give color to my days?
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Day 3
Here we go again. The already established morning routine made getting to the worship a much easier task than yesterday. The meeting in the lobby, the walk to the subway,and the 2 blocks to Teachers College. I imagine that by the end of our two weeks here, it will feel like home.
The power of a dynamic presenter is clear through Lucy Calkins, the workshop developer. Her style, her story telling, she pulls you into the process so you not only hear the steps, but feel the significance of it. The story pulls you in and gives you buy-in. Makes you feel and believe that you want to make it your own. In this case, to be a writer.
I'm fascinated by the teachers here and wonder if it's been too long since I was last part of the group. Don't get me wrong, that's a good thing. Missing are the teachers who only focus on their classrooms, their students and the limited perspectives that that life brings. Gone are the teacher sweaters with apples and pencils. And in their place are faces who look like they belong to this profession, as well as to any other. Athletic figures, trendy clothes, youth, by my benchmark at least, who can bring more to their students and their classrooms than to say, "I am here for you." They can also tell them, "Let's explore this world together." I find the change of population both refreshing and promising.
A trip to dinner, one of the few we will be served, was marked by the familiar routine. To find the "right" location, VB searched through Google. Apparantly, it's opinion is more well respected than that of the hotel conceirge. Once a possible location was identified, it's location was scrutinized for proximity to the hotel; it's menu was examined for both price and the certainty that it contained a choice she would find satisfactory. Once a restraurant passed this test, it's menu was disseminated to other's so they could weigh in on it's suitability. In the end, it was a secretary's recommendation that was followed and all were sufficiently satisfied.
Today was better than yesterday, but in all aspects of the trip. I imagine that tomorrow will be better still. I can't wait to see what will unfold in the days ahead.
The power of a dynamic presenter is clear through Lucy Calkins, the workshop developer. Her style, her story telling, she pulls you into the process so you not only hear the steps, but feel the significance of it. The story pulls you in and gives you buy-in. Makes you feel and believe that you want to make it your own. In this case, to be a writer.
I'm fascinated by the teachers here and wonder if it's been too long since I was last part of the group. Don't get me wrong, that's a good thing. Missing are the teachers who only focus on their classrooms, their students and the limited perspectives that that life brings. Gone are the teacher sweaters with apples and pencils. And in their place are faces who look like they belong to this profession, as well as to any other. Athletic figures, trendy clothes, youth, by my benchmark at least, who can bring more to their students and their classrooms than to say, "I am here for you." They can also tell them, "Let's explore this world together." I find the change of population both refreshing and promising.
A trip to dinner, one of the few we will be served, was marked by the familiar routine. To find the "right" location, VB searched through Google. Apparantly, it's opinion is more well respected than that of the hotel conceirge. Once a possible location was identified, it's location was scrutinized for proximity to the hotel; it's menu was examined for both price and the certainty that it contained a choice she would find satisfactory. Once a restraurant passed this test, it's menu was disseminated to other's so they could weigh in on it's suitability. In the end, it was a secretary's recommendation that was followed and all were sufficiently satisfied.
Today was better than yesterday, but in all aspects of the trip. I imagine that tomorrow will be better still. I can't wait to see what will unfold in the days ahead.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Day 2
Is it really day 2? Is it only day 2? Is it really 7pm and I'm sitting alone in my hotel room in Times Square?
Surprises and acknowledgements mark today, the surprises are sweet and the acknowledgements aren't, and the story is somewhere in the middle.
I woke with a jolt this morning, frightened that I had overslept or the alarm had failed to ring, the morning sky bright, minutes before sunrise. Oh no! What happened? 5:30? What? And then the realization dawned with the sun that longer daylight hours will be my companion on this trip. Woo Hoo! There is nothing that I like more, and I mean that with all sincerity, than to wake to the sunshine.
The city, the subway, the people, the traffic, all negotiated without problem. But for the city, it's busy, it's alive and as much as I have loved the last 24 hours, being here, by myself...or what may as well be, has reassurred me that while I will enjoy the next 13 days, that at this place in my life, I feel that I'm living where I should be or at least where I want to be and by that I mean geographically..
The morning workshops were wonderful! The stories of children and their writing left me inspired...made me cry...and drove me to want to write more than ever. They also led me to realize the power of the process and the value of this gift that I've been given. So I write.
The afternoon workshops, well let's just say, that some presenters are more prepared and better story tellers than others. Coherence and flow, and connecting the big picture to individual roles...how does this process play out for administrators? Where do we fit with coordinating and facilitation? It should be more than learning the steps and guessing whether we've done it right.
Part of my goal in coming here, was to get some perspective on issues in my life. Problems and responsibilities that I'm owning that aren't mine, except by my own making and adoption. The power that the perceived expectation holds over my actions, not wanting to let others down or to disappoint...and yet I arrive in this city, full of expectations, and my sense of what I SHOULD do has left me to accompany one who should not need her hand held. And so I devote some half hearted time to "doing what I should" and then making excuses of chores that I must do to escape to freedom.
Freedom. Is that what this is? Make the obligitory calls to family and take a quick walk. Watch all the people passing so quicky by. Most in their isolated bubbles, no eye-contact, purposeful steps, taking them quickly to unknown destinations. And so it's 7pm and I'm back in my hotel room, writing this.
Homework looms ahead, and tasks for the work that sent me here. But for now, it's 7pm and I sit and write...and wait for the grocery man to bring my rations for the week...and coctails, because who would think that a liquor store would be so hard to find ...so for now, I'll sit here and write.
Surprises and acknowledgements mark today, the surprises are sweet and the acknowledgements aren't, and the story is somewhere in the middle.
I woke with a jolt this morning, frightened that I had overslept or the alarm had failed to ring, the morning sky bright, minutes before sunrise. Oh no! What happened? 5:30? What? And then the realization dawned with the sun that longer daylight hours will be my companion on this trip. Woo Hoo! There is nothing that I like more, and I mean that with all sincerity, than to wake to the sunshine.
The city, the subway, the people, the traffic, all negotiated without problem. But for the city, it's busy, it's alive and as much as I have loved the last 24 hours, being here, by myself...or what may as well be, has reassurred me that while I will enjoy the next 13 days, that at this place in my life, I feel that I'm living where I should be or at least where I want to be and by that I mean geographically..
The morning workshops were wonderful! The stories of children and their writing left me inspired...made me cry...and drove me to want to write more than ever. They also led me to realize the power of the process and the value of this gift that I've been given. So I write.
The afternoon workshops, well let's just say, that some presenters are more prepared and better story tellers than others. Coherence and flow, and connecting the big picture to individual roles...how does this process play out for administrators? Where do we fit with coordinating and facilitation? It should be more than learning the steps and guessing whether we've done it right.
Part of my goal in coming here, was to get some perspective on issues in my life. Problems and responsibilities that I'm owning that aren't mine, except by my own making and adoption. The power that the perceived expectation holds over my actions, not wanting to let others down or to disappoint...and yet I arrive in this city, full of expectations, and my sense of what I SHOULD do has left me to accompany one who should not need her hand held. And so I devote some half hearted time to "doing what I should" and then making excuses of chores that I must do to escape to freedom.
Freedom. Is that what this is? Make the obligitory calls to family and take a quick walk. Watch all the people passing so quicky by. Most in their isolated bubbles, no eye-contact, purposeful steps, taking them quickly to unknown destinations. And so it's 7pm and I'm back in my hotel room, writing this.
Homework looms ahead, and tasks for the work that sent me here. But for now, it's 7pm and I sit and write...and wait for the grocery man to bring my rations for the week...and coctails, because who would think that a liquor store would be so hard to find ...so for now, I'll sit here and write.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Day 1
Old habits are hard to break - like the ones that say, "It's time to check in, time to call home." But the awkward silence and stilted conversation after, "Hello" is the vivid reminder that this time, it's different.
Even worse than the problematic dialogue are the times when the story takes over and its like nothing is different. Those are the times that I have to stop myself. Those are the times that I scream, "Don't you dare go there!" Because if it isn't different, if its too much like old times, then someone will hold out expectation of a return where all is back to normal...and the one returning will dread it even more than usual because it will mean that the battle will wage with even greater fury and leave more weight to push over the embankment.
But now to the point of the post and the end of day 1.
The flight was OK, with the usual turbulance. And while I noticed the screeming child, it wasn't until we landed and a man quickly rushed to my row to retriew his bags and cursed the kid and his parents that I realized how frustrated many on the flight had become over this 2 year old who could not yet talk, yet made his will known in hoots and hollers (mostly hollers) and who had apparently terrorized those seated around him, this man being one. They wanted to punch the parents, they wanted to gag the kid, they wanted off the plane. Unfortunately for them, we arrived too early to the gate to have the local gateworker's union member at the ready to help us deplane. So we all practiced patience, some better than others.
The taxi ride was uneventful, however never having ridden in a New York cab before, I have to admit that the drivers in India have nothing on these guys. They invented the term pushy New Yorker!
The hotel is OK...definitely nothing special, but home for the next 2 weeks. I'm sure it will grow on me. I just hope that it doesn't grow to the point that I'd rather sit inside than venture out into the world.
So far, my boss (VB) is OK. She likes order and plans, I think they make her feel safe. She did have to see me room, my view...probably to make sure it was no better than hers. But a quick in and out was all it took. She's on a higher floor, but still same view. I don't plan on visiting her view unless summonned. We went to the Times Square subway station and got our metro cards for the next week. And then we had chinese food. Not bad as far as meals are concerned. At least the cost was within my per diem.
The highlight of the day had to be the gay pride parade. I don't know how impromptu it was, but there were blocks and blocks of paradeees...out in force, celebrating their flamboyance and their right to marry. Really? May be its just where I am in life right now, but I don't get the attraction. But it was a festive time that I think can only compare to Key West at Fantasy Fest time.
After hearing that I had taken some great pictures, VB wanted me to send a copy. Oh, would she be alarmed. ...this is the same person who said that she was happy we didn't have to stop in front of the gentelman's club (when JT went into a store)...she wouldn't want anyone to get a wrong idea. ....WOW! I don't really think there's any problem there!!
The morning will come early. Leaving the hotel at 7:15 to head uptown....who knows what the day could bring?
Even worse than the problematic dialogue are the times when the story takes over and its like nothing is different. Those are the times that I have to stop myself. Those are the times that I scream, "Don't you dare go there!" Because if it isn't different, if its too much like old times, then someone will hold out expectation of a return where all is back to normal...and the one returning will dread it even more than usual because it will mean that the battle will wage with even greater fury and leave more weight to push over the embankment.
But now to the point of the post and the end of day 1.
The flight was OK, with the usual turbulance. And while I noticed the screeming child, it wasn't until we landed and a man quickly rushed to my row to retriew his bags and cursed the kid and his parents that I realized how frustrated many on the flight had become over this 2 year old who could not yet talk, yet made his will known in hoots and hollers (mostly hollers) and who had apparently terrorized those seated around him, this man being one. They wanted to punch the parents, they wanted to gag the kid, they wanted off the plane. Unfortunately for them, we arrived too early to the gate to have the local gateworker's union member at the ready to help us deplane. So we all practiced patience, some better than others.
The taxi ride was uneventful, however never having ridden in a New York cab before, I have to admit that the drivers in India have nothing on these guys. They invented the term pushy New Yorker!
The hotel is OK...definitely nothing special, but home for the next 2 weeks. I'm sure it will grow on me. I just hope that it doesn't grow to the point that I'd rather sit inside than venture out into the world.
So far, my boss (VB) is OK. She likes order and plans, I think they make her feel safe. She did have to see me room, my view...probably to make sure it was no better than hers. But a quick in and out was all it took. She's on a higher floor, but still same view. I don't plan on visiting her view unless summonned. We went to the Times Square subway station and got our metro cards for the next week. And then we had chinese food. Not bad as far as meals are concerned. At least the cost was within my per diem.
The highlight of the day had to be the gay pride parade. I don't know how impromptu it was, but there were blocks and blocks of paradeees...out in force, celebrating their flamboyance and their right to marry. Really? May be its just where I am in life right now, but I don't get the attraction. But it was a festive time that I think can only compare to Key West at Fantasy Fest time.
After hearing that I had taken some great pictures, VB wanted me to send a copy. Oh, would she be alarmed. ...this is the same person who said that she was happy we didn't have to stop in front of the gentelman's club (when JT went into a store)...she wouldn't want anyone to get a wrong idea. ....WOW! I don't really think there's any problem there!!
The morning will come early. Leaving the hotel at 7:15 to head uptown....who knows what the day could bring?
Waiting for that feeling to start
Yesterday was quite a day! And I am very glad it is over. Drama from everyone...
That feeling that I'm talking about is that calm that comes over me when I'm leaving on a trip. Somehow, this time it's different though. I've never been gone for 2 weeks...I'm traveling with colleagues who I don't know all that well, and I just don't know how much drama I will have to filter while I'm away. I want to be excited, I'm trying to be excited, but I want to not come back to the same old thing.
On a different note, it amazes me how many people get aggravated with airport security. They don't want their bag checked, they don't want scanned...really? If we all do it, then what is the problem? Why should you be special?
Almost boarding time...next stop, New York!
That feeling that I'm talking about is that calm that comes over me when I'm leaving on a trip. Somehow, this time it's different though. I've never been gone for 2 weeks...I'm traveling with colleagues who I don't know all that well, and I just don't know how much drama I will have to filter while I'm away. I want to be excited, I'm trying to be excited, but I want to not come back to the same old thing.
On a different note, it amazes me how many people get aggravated with airport security. They don't want their bag checked, they don't want scanned...really? If we all do it, then what is the problem? Why should you be special?
Almost boarding time...next stop, New York!
Friday, June 24, 2011
The Count Down has started!
Well, t minus 2 hours until I leave the office (or may be less).
I haven't been able to tell many people how excited I'm getting for this trip! May be its just excitement to be somewhere else!! I certainly can't put it on FB. Oh, I'll post some things, but they will be the stripped down, edited, milk toast, read to your 5 year old version of the trip.
I can't put on FB that I'm thrilled...my family would be pissed. And boy, would I hear about that!
I also can't write about the exploits with the Dean. Since I have one of her staff as my FB friend...that just wouldn't be wise for my career.
So, I'm going to use this...I hope you don't mind getting notifications when I put up something new! Just a few more tasks and I'm headed home. Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!
I haven't been able to tell many people how excited I'm getting for this trip! May be its just excitement to be somewhere else!! I certainly can't put it on FB. Oh, I'll post some things, but they will be the stripped down, edited, milk toast, read to your 5 year old version of the trip.
I can't put on FB that I'm thrilled...my family would be pissed. And boy, would I hear about that!
I also can't write about the exploits with the Dean. Since I have one of her staff as my FB friend...that just wouldn't be wise for my career.
So, I'm going to use this...I hope you don't mind getting notifications when I put up something new! Just a few more tasks and I'm headed home. Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!
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