minority

I live my life as such the majority that it comes as a complete shock sometimes when I am not. I look basically like everyone else around me... you know, minus the ridiculously handsome beard... No one really pays me a second glance. And I am used to that. I remember a long time ago when my family was on vacation somewhere.... I actually don't remember where, but somewhere when I was in my teens and I had big long hair. ( see the pic to the right just to help the mental image. I am the one on the far right) and we stopped somewhere for lunch. People were looking at me like had just got naked and was waving a bloody flag around. Literally parents were shooing their kids away from me as I walked down the sidewalk. It felt a bit powerful.. and I remember laughing. But it also felt wrong. I was a pretty decent guy. I didn't kill people for a living, and these guys had no right assuming anything like that about me.

I was a minority again today. I went to my friend Asima's daughter's wedding. They are Indian and Muslim and I am neither of those things. We have been friends a long time and feel no awkwardness at all regarding our differences. In fact, I love them. I love going over their house for food... trust me, the food is very very good. And I love going over their for birthdays and the like. There are rules there that I don't have, big rules, and I really do find it interesting to see them played out. So this was my first Indian wedding. I think we were the only non-Indian, non-Muslims there. We were the only ones that I saw anyway. I didn't know what I was going to think of it. It is so rare that I am thrown into a place that has such a different set of rules and culture. It was beautiful. One thing that I love about Indian culture is the color. Beautiful silks and gold flashing everywhere. I also love the singing of the Quran. I have been to a couple different things where the holy book is sung. Judaism for sure, and Islam... and in some places, Christianity. I wonder where Christianity veered from the singing of the Bible. In many Orthodox churches it is still sung. Most protestant churches it isn't. It is a beautiful thing to hear those words sung out.

In most other ways the service was very similar to any other religious event that I have been to. The Imam (I believe that's the right name) gave a message that could have been spoken in any church that I have been a part of. Love, for everyone, is central to God's desire. Yes, completely agree. People gave speeches in regard of the married couple. There was food and people mingled. It wasn't completely common day, I had to ask if it was OK to take pictures, and it was. But I wasn't sure. They prayed. I have seen Muslim prayer a few times before, and it beautiful to watch. I especially love the hand position that some people take, open hands facing their face. Some motion, what looks to me like a washing hand motion over their face after prayer. The symbolism in this, from my observation at least, was beautiful.

It was a nice night. I am happy to have been out of my comfort zone and safely in the hands of another culture.

db

boheminora

Fleece Beret................................................................................ √
Matching sweater dress ...............................................................√
Black tights..................................................................................√
Black sparkly sequin shoes..........................................................√
Tri-color beads slung asymetrically over one shoulder.................√
Mandolin in backpack case strung loosely across back................√
Extra guitar leaning against wall...................................................√
Psuedo-hipster half smile..............................................................√
Devlish glint in eye.......................................................................√

a six state view

We went to the Big E today with the cub scouts. All day... 7:00am to 7:00pm. The cub scouts actually got a grant to go to it for free this year, which is more than great. It was good. One of the best parts about the grant is that we were able to use the upper offices in the Massachusetts building. Did you know that each state building sits on its own land, owned by the state it represents. So I really was able to look out over all six newengland states. The Massachusetts building was a complete life saver. The crowds were just amazing. Literally, we had to shove ourselves into the moving stream of people and get forced by the flow down the street. The upstairs of the building, reserved for VIPs, was this one spot that we could get away from the crowds. It also had a nice private bathroom. A PRIVATE BATHROOM!! We also got a complimentary bus ride to the Big E on a bus. A school bus. When is the last time any of you have ridden a distance on a school bus? I remember now the lack of shocks on those things. I, of course, sat right over the back wheel. It was exactly as I remember it from when I was a kid... Do they even have shocks on a school bus? It was free though, and that is something.

By the end I think I was so ready to come home. The food was good... fried everything of course, but I pretty much avoided the bad stuff. I got one hell of a Gyro (pronounced hEro right?) at a Greek food stand. Henry got clam fritters from Rhode Island and a huge corn dog from a stand. Nora got chicken fingers.... what would Nora do if chickens didn't have fingers... and Jen got a bratwurst. There was one place where two girls were selling apples. They were "Spencer" apples and they may have been the best things I have ever eaten. Well, at least in that atmosphere of batter dipped and fried everything.

In the end, I am glad its done, and also glad we went.


db

Packed

These first few weeks of school have been so completely packed. I don't think it has ever been like this for me.

Went to Henry's cub scout pack meeting today. I am happy that he is a cub scout. He is kind of marginally interested in it. He definitely has good friends there, and I think that is why he keeps going... isn't that true for all of us...

In time he may grow to like the actual being of a boyscout more. They do things that he would like. I have pretty good memories of being a boyscout. I learned a lot too.

This pack meeting was anything but interesting though. It felt like I had just ran a marathon and crashed into an elephant.... slow.

The Grave

I took my students to the Old Burial Ground in the center of Rutland today. Its part of my Historical Fiction unit. We walk from the school up to the cemetery... about a ten minute hike from school. My students pick one of the graves and record all the information that they find. They then try to research all of the facts they can find online. Meanwhile, they research a ton about early colonial life in places like rutland and deerfield and learn about how they lived. Its pretty awesome. I have learned an amazing amount about the history of rutland, and even the land that my house sits on.

The graveyard itself is kind of amazing. The stones range from 1700 to 1850: before we were a country. They are in various stages of decay, some have faired better than others. Moss and lichen abounds. Many are sunk half into the ground. I tell my students, without becoming overly morose... well, maybe it is overly morose, that they are literally walking on the early inhabitants of Rutland, and that the land here hasn't really been altered since the indians were attackin the center. They were by the way. Rutland had a fort built in the center to provide shelter from their attacks.

The stones themselves are beautiful. They have really intricate designs carved all over them. Hand carved of course. There are these faces that stare out. Effigies. They aren't supposed to be images of the buried exactly, but certainly representations of them. They are hollow. Sometimes frowning. Sometimes peacefull. But they all....stare. Just stare at you as you walk through the place. It is eerie. Nno doubt about it. I snapped pictures of many of them today to kind of give you the feel of what it was like to be there.

  

There are reasons to love this place though. Stories abound. One stone tells of how a man, Daniel Campbell, was murdered on his farm. Another that he was shot. Yet another that he was drowned. There are stones erected for those who were killed in indian raids. Plagues like dystemper swept through and killed many of the town's children. There are those that were loved and those that sadly weren't. Even the names are mysterious and provoking. "Submit" "Beneficience" and my favorite "Skelton Felton."

It is a walk through our history, the hard stuff that made us. I love sharing it with the children of this town and seeing them find it for the first time. They were excited, if not a bit creeped out today. 

      

big inflatable nightmares

Nora was out for a late-night birthday party tonight. She had a great time: flying down the slides jumping into other kid's in inflatable castles, shooting foam balls out of high pressure air guns. It was of course a total nightmare for me.

I don't hate inflatable jumpy thingys or being around rowdy children, its the adults that get me. I am not a social being. I am that guy that doesn't like crowds.......times ten. I have a pretty light case of Aspergers..... I have had it my whole life. I of course had no idea what it was I had when I was younger. This probably doesn't come as a surprise to those who knew me in high school. It might come as a bit more of a surprise to those I know now....actually, maybe not.

 I went through all of these classes when I was younger, all the way through high school actually... they had no idea. It turns out that Aspergers wasn't diagnosed at that specific stretch of time. I don't know why. Did it go out of vogue? Who knows. But that is what I have. It manifests itself in sneaky... and not so sneaky ways in my life. I can't pay attention to something that doesn't intrinsically interest me for long. I always slide away into my own thoughts. I have come up with ways to fight it off of course, couldn't get through college without that. I draw a lot when I am supposed to pay attention, like at meetings etc. (I know this must lead to interesting opinions of me) My college notebooks are filled.... FILLED with drawings. I did really well that way. I learned not only to cope, but to excel. It took a while, but I understand myself a lot better now, and what to expect from myself as well.

And one thing that I know about myself is that I hate being in crowds of people, even people that I know sometimes, especially people that I don't, especially people that are judging me because my daughter is in their daughter's class. I literally do not understand small talk. It completely doesn't compute. I know some people say that, but I really really mean it, in a way that those without Aspergers might have a hard time understanding. Sometimes I think I am kind of faking it and getting away with it, but eventually whoever it is figures it out and gives me the slightly bewildered, "I don't understand" look, and walks away. I don't blame them. I have no idea how to talk to them.

Its funny that teaching doesn't fall under that category for me. I think its because I am in charge. I know what to talk about and how to do it. I am actually pretty good at it.... and I use the thing for my advantage. I teach a class that remains interesting, and fun, because I can't remain focused any other way.

In a very backward way, I think that being misunderstood by my teachers my entire lower schooling career shot me out toward becoming a teacher myself: One big cathartic reaction to change a screwed up system for the better. But I guess I can get into that later sometime.

I bring a book most times. I like to read.

db

gather ye rose buds

It was cold this morning. I was totally wrong about that no gloves thing yestserday. I definitely could have used them this morning. There was frost icing the edges of the strawberry plants on the side of the dirt roads in the park. Time to gather those last greens from the garden.

I wake up before my alarm goes off. Its one of the ways I know I am sane... I know that sounds a bit insane to some of you. Its me though, I like to think that my body can take care of itself. It knows how much sleep I need and it gets it, as long as I give it enough space... or time really. I have been waking up at about 5:30 every morning. My alarm is set for 7:00. Jenny's alarm is set for 7:30... she normally slams mine off and slams hers off and just keeps on sleeping it up. She hasn't missed the bus yet though.... oh wait... .there was that one time.
I am a morning person... that makes me better than half of the population. Night people can't compete. They live life reacting to things and morning people... well, we are ahead of the game.

and we are tired.
and we can't watch cool nightime shows.

Still, I love the morning. I love waking before the birds sing and watch it all come to life. Today on the way home from the highschool (scripts still aren't in by the way) I saw the sunset, and I realized that I saw both today. Big, bright, brilliant bookends to what amounted to a pretty great day.

db