awkwardness (almost) averted

Thursday and Friday of this week was the MACTE (MN Association of Colleges of Teacher Education) Conference. It's an organization I was peripherally involved in during my PhD work, but was just a lowly grad student, so only made a couple presentations and that's about it. Now that I'm officially part of the teacher prep community, I'm a fully acknowledged member of the group.

I taught Thursday morning, and so joined the meetings after lunch. I was mingling in the hallway before the first afternoon session when an SCU coworker came up to me saying, "I had the most uncomfortable encounter this morning.

Me: "What happened?"

Susan: "When I got into the meeting this morning, a woman who we interviewed for your job, who obviously didn't get it, came up to me and asked, 'Why didn't I get the job?' I was so surprised, I didn't know how to respond." We talked about how unprofessional and awkward that was, and went to our respective break-out sessions.

I walk into the St. Croix Room and almost literally run into three of the people from the Gustavus search committee. The job I didn't get. Ha. To her credit, one of the women came over to me to ask what I was doing now and to tell me that they loved me and it was a really hard decision, and that she was really glad I am still in MN and got a job in teacher prep. I thanked her and said that it was a great interview at Gustavus, and that I really liked it there, but that I was very happy with my position and everything worked out for me. It was very nice of her to diffuse a potentially awkward situation.

And it saved me from having to confront someone about not getting the job.

:)

fooling myself

I think the only way I survived last year was to tell myself that it would be so much better this year. That once I was done with the dissertation I would get my life back.

Ha.

It is better, it is. But I really shouldn't be working a part time job on top of my college prof gig. I love that I have one foot in the classroom, and I don't want to lose that. I think I'm doing a pretty good job at both jobs, and my mid-term evals were really positive. But...

I am so burned out. Exhausted. Out of steam. My pace last year and over the summer was bound to catch up to me. And it has. Big time. So even though I'm working slightly more reasonable hours, I just don't feel present.

I need to rejuvenate. Trying to figure out how to band-aid the situation until winter break, when I plan to sleep from Christmas to New Years. Screw family visitors and planning for my new class starting 1/3. I'll need to nap.

let there be warmth

Being a single homeowner kinda sucks. Every problem rests solely on my shoulders to solve. I'm impatient and frugal - not a good mix. And I don't know a lot about home repairs.

I am also a baby when it comes to being cold. My furnace has not worked since it got cold. This wasn't quite to emergency state, and good that it happened now and not mid-February, but needed to get fixed.

I made an appointment online, like I was supposed to, and had to schedule one for November 15th, the first available appointment. Not satisfied that I should have to wait three weeks for heat, I called and was able to talk to a human, scheduling an repair for today. Took a half day off, skipped a bunch of meetings, and settled in to grade some midterms while I waited.

The guy came and was done in about 20 minutes. As soon as he left, the furnace shut down again. Thank goodness he was still in his van writing up his report or whatever they do and hadn't left yet.

I knocked on his window and he came back in. Only to discover that there was indeed a broken part. Even longer story short, after some pleading, he agreed to pick up the part and come back to fix the furnace today.

Glad not to be wearing a stocking cap and three pairs of socks tonight.

a pretty cool piece of paper

The thing about getting a PhD is that you aren't actually done when you defend. You still have to submit your dissertation to the graduate school, get it approved, and then wait a few weeks until they officially grant the degree.

I got my diploma today, and found out I was officially awarded my degree earlier this week. I'd be lying if I said it was exciting or that I felt relieved or satisfied or much of anything.

But it's still a pretty cool piece of paper.

moving on

I am surprised and pleased that the day's big event, my 'break-up' with my therapist, has produced no anxiety, no second thoughts, no trauma, no nothing.

I went in there, told her I was ready to fly the coop, and she agreed. She said she is sad to lose the connection because she really enjoys our time together, but said that my life doesn't seem to warrant the type of therapy in which we've been engaged.

This is not to say that I am perfect and all my issues are gone. Nay, I still have some pretty serious issues to sort through. But she was in agreement that she may not be the one I need at this time and after making some suggestions of places to go if I were to feel the need (and telling me her door is always open for me), I left.

After close to 9 years, it is a little strange to think about not having a weekly therapy session. But I'm ready to move forward.

Eight and a half years ago I was sad. Apathetic. Weepy. Hopeless. Worthless. My body hurt all the time just by being awake. And yet I couldn't sleep. I lost 25 pounds. Food just didn't taste good. And I was too tired all the time to bother cooking anyhow. I didn't realize that I was depressed. Looking back, I don't know how I missed it.

While I didn't recognize what was really going on, I thought I at least had it together at work.

I was wrong.

It all came into focus over two days. As I was standing in the hallway on a Wednesday morning before school started, talking with kids while they put their backpacks away in their lockers, a fifth grader from another teacher's class came up to me. I knew the girl's name, but didn't have her in class. She handed me an envelope and gave me a little half-hug around my waist. In the business of the day, I didn't get to the note until after school.

It's a good thing, too.

I opened the envelope to find a card with a picture of a field of flowers. Inside the blank card, the little girl had written something like, "You are special. God loves you. You will be happy someday. There is love for you."

I didn't know then how important that note would become. A pack rat, I save most everything. But I didn't save that card. I think I was embarrassed and shocked. It's still startling for me to think about that.

The next day, a coworker of mine came up to my classroom to talk with me after school. She wasn't someone I usually chatted with, but I think she stopped by under the pretense of something to do with the student council activity that was coming up that I was in charge of planning. At any rate, she said that she had noticed that I seemed to be struggling with something, and handed me the business card of a therapist.

Wow.

Clearly, I was not as together as I thought I was. I went home, called the therapist, and left my information through sobs.

And so begins my relationship with therapy. My first therapist, Sue, I stayed with for seven years. I was devastated when she closed her practice. She recommended a friend of hers, whom I've been seeing for the last year and a half. It's never been quite the same as with Sue. I would occasionally leave Sue's office furious. She would push me and call me out. Always with my best interest in mind, but she made me work.

I've never felt that with my new therapist. It's been fine, but I mostly feel like I pay her to chat with me about books and teaching, and she doesn't make me talk about what I really need to talk about.

When my health insurance changed with my new job, it turns out that my therapist isn't covered. At first I was frustrated. It is far too expensive to keep seeing her by paying out of pocket. At our last meeting, she said she would make it work with whatever I could pay her. Which was really nice, but then I feel like I owe her. And I don't want to feel that way.

So tomorrow is my last appointment with her. She doesn't know that yet, and I don't know how I'm going to tell her. She told me that she told Sue that I was, "the best gift she's ever given" her. A little weird, right? Anyway, I don't want to disappoint her. But I don't think it's working for me. To be fair, I haven't expressed this at all to her. And she did tell me it was ok to think about our situation and decide if I wanted to make a switch to see someone else. Maybe this is a chance to make a clean break and see how I do without therapy for a while. Finding a new one seems worse than not being in therapy right now.

I've come a long, long way from the Kate I was back before the cards. I don't ever want to go back to that devastatingly dark, terrifyingly alone place. I know now a whole lot more about what to do to recognize and prevent that me from coming back.

We'll see.

a rose by any other name

I love my name. It is who I am. If I were to ever marry, I wouldn't change it. It's too much a part of me.

That said...

There seems to be difficulty with my name that is tremendously annoying. The fact that I go by Kate instead of my full name is confusing to some. I hated it in college when I would show up to the first day of class and the professor, when calling roll, would automatically shorten my name to Cathy. I am not a Cathy. Not ever. Annoying. That Kate is spelled with a K and Catherine is spelled with a C is yet more confusing.

And then that my last name, which some have as their first name, begins with the same phoneme as my first name means I get called Kelly. Also annoying. I don't understand why this is beyond the grasp of some people, but apparently it is.

But the kicker was this weekend. I received a student email me from one of my classes last year. In a mass email to all her professors from her grad program (a mass email!), she asked if we would be references for her. Let me restate that: in a mass email. I replied and said that it was very unprofessional to send a mass email asking for references, and that since she only took one class from me over a year ago, I wouldn't feel comfortable being a reference for her. She replied back and addressed the email to Kelly, asking again if she could just list me as a reference, not write a letter. I wrote back and said no, and that my name is Kate and I would urge her to be more thoughtful and professional in her email exchanges with potential references and, in turn, job prospects.

Shortly thereafter, I got an email from a guy I'm in the 'open communication' phase with through eHarmony. Unfortunately, my official name on the site is Catherine, which then requires some way of addressing the fact that I go by Kate in the emails. Usually this is taken care of by my signature, but if the guy emails first, I usually explicitly write that I go by a nickname. Anyway, in a reply to my email in which I had signed my name Kate, said guy addressed the email to Kitty. Kitty? Seriously? Where'd you come up with that one? Do you know anyone under the age of 70 that goes by Kitty? Pay attention, dude.

Annoying.

living alone again

My sis has moved out. Not all her stuff is gone, but her person is. My parents are helping her a bit so she can feel a little less down-and-out, and she found a month-to-month one bedroom apartment to hang her hat until she finds a job.

Her new plan is optometry school.

If she can find something she is passionate about, more power to her. She loves geology, but isn't finding a career from her PhD. Personally, I can't think of much I'd rather do less than go back to school. But I always had a career in goal through my PhD work, and I was fortunate to land a job.

As hard as it was to get used to sharing this space, it's a little weird now that she isn't here to comment on tv with.

I'll get used to it.

friday book review: the lion and the mouse

Pinkney, J. (2009). The Lion and the Mouse. New York: Little, Brown and Company.

This (mostly) wordless picture book is a beautiful translation of Aesop's fable of the same name. Pinkney's paintings are absolutely stunning, and it well deserves the Caldecott it won.

My students really loved this when I shared it with them in class yesterday, and we had a great discussion about all the ways you could use this wordless book (and others) with children in classrooms.

Definitely a keeper.

suzanne collins

Seriously disappointing. I guess I'm spoiled by good author talks through Talking Volumes. And every time I've ever seen an author, they've always engaged the audience in some way. A talk, some questions, something. But this was so lame-o.

There were so many cute elementary, middle, and high school students there. I got there an hour early and there was already a considerable crowd. Some were even wearing Hunger Games t-shirts or a Mockingjay necklace. One girl wore a t-shirt that said, "Katniss could whip Bella any day." Clearly a very excited crowd.


I'm standing against the bookshelves in a green sweater next to a guy in a gray/blue sweater.

Suzanne came out to her table, and said she was going to do a reading in the voice she hears Katniss using in her head, what she called, "futuristic Appalachian." Then she read a few paragraphs from Catching Fire and then a couple pages from Mockingjay. And that was it. No talk about the books, no questions from the audience. We were then herded outside to wait for our ticket number to be called to get our book stamped (she has a hand injury, so wasn't even signing the books).

I still love the books, but not as much a fan of her. Give us something.

friday book review: catching fire, mockingjay

Collins, S. (2009). Catching fire. New York: Scholastic Press.
Collins, S. (2010). Mockingjay. New York: Scholastic Press.

There is little need to actually review these books, as near everyone I know has been devouring them like me. But, I get to see her at The Red Balloon Bookshop tomorrow, and I'm really excited about that.

I saved Mockingjay for the plane ride last weekend to visit family in Massachusetts. I finished all but the last 40 pages, which I saved to read that Friday night before bed. It was beautiful. Dark and troubling, but beautiful. My colleague had finished it earlier that week, and when she told her 13 year old son (another Hunger Games addict) that she had finished, he opened up his arms to give her a big hug.

I loved the bittersweet ending, and I'm sad to be done with the series. I've had some really interesting conversations with my students about the merits of using such a violent book with students. And there are more to come - since they are planning lessons around using this book for the end of the semester. I can't wait to see what they come up with.

I was on the fence on the whole Team Edward/Team Jacob, er... Team Gale/Team Peeta drama. Be with Gale, with whom she struggled to provide daily for her family, or be with Peeta, with whom she fought to stay alive? Both seemed perfect and yet just as unlikely to work.

Sigh. What's next?