A life that revolves around bohemia, college, homosexuality, epiphanies, and people.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Light up the World.
One night, I read...
"One of my friends majored in math & eventually got her Bachelors & teaching certification. She didn't love math, still after graduating she found herself teaching high school math in Dallas. She hated it, so after a couple of years she moved on to Texas Tech, where she TAed as she secured her Masters. She's now teaching in the Midwest, college level math, but her heart just is not in it.
I got kind of lucky, during my last semester in the Social Work program @ UT, I served as a counseling intern at an Austin charter school. The science teacher there was teaching the life skills classes, and hating it, because that wasn't his area of focus. I expressed interest, and the following year, I was hired on as a counselor & teacher of life skills. I appreciated the experience, because for some time I knew that I wanted to eventually be a professor of Social Work, in large part because there were no Black, male professors during my stint in the program. There were some excellent sistas representing though, and I found myself automatically working harder in their classes, not wanting to disappoint them. I had a similar feeling when I took African American studies classes helmed by Black male professors. It was strange...instinctual. I just wanted to work harder to handle business. I think it was a combination of pride, and recognition of how spectacular it was that I, Black man, was being taught by Black people in a state that used to deny us the opportunity to learn & teach. I could not articulate that at the time, but that drive was powerful.
That drive gave me an indication of what I wanted to be. It gave me an indication of how I would perform as a teacher, granted the opportunity to educate young minds. I felt that if a drive like that hit me as a student, it would most certainly help drive me as an educator. I was right. I loved teaching as much as I loved counseling. I didn't like the administrative politics mind, but the act of teaching and connecting with students, I loved...
...The difference between me and my girl, is she has felt none of that drive. She has just kind of been teaching by default, and hoping to stumble into her love. We have both discussed how when you feel those instincts, or that drive pulling you toward something positive, it is important that you move toward it.
All that is to say, if math is not what you want to do, give the finger to the pressure. You teach what you feel passionate about. If you do so, you will bring the fullness of your passion into your work, and you will enjoy indescribable personal success.
Spring of 2013, I'm going to be celebrating with you!
In unrelated news....
...do you remember this guy who told me a few years ago that he admired the fact that I was in a ten-year relationship & hoped to be there himself one day?
His ass is halfway there."
- Jay
It's no news that people feed off of other's miseries. We make fun of those that are more successful than us, looking for their faults to make ourselves feel better, avoiding our own issues and insecurities until they blow up on our face and others'. As people these days, we fail to clearly define the difference between someone being our role model and envying that person. In the end, we lose ourselves and we're never happy with who we are but what is expected by society, by what is called 'living' by the standards of the media. We're constantly changing everything, constantly looking for something better because it's just simply never good enough. We're so obsessed with where we want to be that we forget to focus on where we are and in the end, we end up nowhere. But every now and then, you'll find someone who's patient, optimistic, and hopeful enough to give a shit. As I was once told, be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth. Yet every now and then, you'll realize that every word is worth it.
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