Just an Emotional Day
Well, I guess I've had an emotional day today. Tuesdays usually end quite emotionally for me since I've started watching Law and Order: SVU, but today's sense of emotion goes far beyond that. I ran the gamut today - glee, sadness, angry disgust, satisfaction.
The day started slowly. I usually win the race against my alarm to open my eyes for the day and today was no exception. Groggily, my eyelids fluttered as I tried to shake the life back into my body. I can take no more than five seconds of my alarm ringing. Once it goes off, I quickly turn it to the radio setting and listen to the morning show on CBC Radio One until the half-hourly jingle passes enough times to let me know that it's now or never and I get out of bed. It doesn't take me very long to shower, change and get ready. Usually, I manage to ingest a few crumbs of something starchy and swallow half a cup of ginger, rooibos or ginseng tea then leave a half hour before the class that I am auditing. Always, I contemplate not going. Always, I am relieved that I have gone in the end. The professor, Michael Hoover, is engaging and clear. He always manages to give us a good story or two - a hefty and marvelous feat for a class in advanced statistics.
After class I went over to the building where I give conference. Since I am usually early for conference, sometimes I stop by the bulletin board to check for interesting events and offers at McGill. Really, it's a time waster. Today I saw the ad to the left. I don't know if you can read the ad, but it is a plea for a pet adoption. Gigi is a 7 month old pitbull mix. She is slightly afraid of men because she lived in a violent home where a men kicked and beat her, his wife and his kids. Due to her breed she was marked for death at the SPCA but someone saved her. Now she is looking for a home. If you can take her and you are a loving person, call 514-523-5052. I don't know these people, I just saw the ad. I would take her, but I can't. I don't have the space and Dundee, the cat and friend with whom I live, would be furious. Looking at Gigi's face, I really feel for her. She doesn't deserve to die. She deserves love, as we all do.
Today, I led my Tuesday conference session for the second time this semester. I don't know if everyone feels this way, but I take my teaching responsibility very seriously. I hate academia. I don't know if anybody realizes just how much this environment bothers me. As a teaching assistant, I feel that my duty is to make sure everybody understands the material and can analyze or critique it to the level of an A student. In general, and definitely at McGill, the prevailing attitude dictates that most students should feel like failures, that we should allow them to fall by the wayside because that is where they deserve to be. Only an artificial of 10% deserve to give the rest of the world the impression that they are distinctly better than everybody else. This disgusts me and I try as much as I can to counteract it. I beg my students to give me clear, precise explanations and stringent analyses and more often than not my conference sessions are demonstrations of this request.
The subject was Cosmopolitanism and one of the articles used John Rawls theory of a just society to make the case for open borders in a global age. The article assumed that the reader already understood the theory. I started the session by explaining the theory and I am so happy that I did because the class started off on the same footing and we had the most incredible, well-reasoned, well-challenged discussion. I hope that tomorrow's sessions unfold in the same way, and that the sessions yet to come can be just as engaging. They understood the issues. They understood why liberal rationality is Western-centric and how to challenge that notion. They questioned the idea that individual freedom should prevail over the common good. Most of them being "westerners," they struggled with a newfound sense of responsibility even as they continued to covet their own personal freedoms. Still, I am sad that I have had to grade them so harshly on the first midterm. I am considering revising muy thresholds and raising all the grades. Right now, the median is hovering at about 69% (B-) though the average is a 70.2%. I think they deserve at least a strong B.
After leaving conference I walked west along Sherbrooke street and passed McGill's main gates where the most striking images crossed my eyes. The Pakistani Students Association was collecting donations for the earthquake relief effo
rt and explaining the extent of the devastation over a megaphone. Alongside them was a mainstay figure at the McGill gates. For over a year a middle-aged man has been picketing the gates with a sign espousing anti-Semetic and anti-gay propaganda. Everybody ignores him though once in a while someone stops to ask him why. I haven't asked him why yet, though I want to do so. I just need to be in the right mood because I don't know what he will say. Based on his sign, I suspect he had a bad experience at the Jewish General Hospital. I gather he has gone through some great pain and looked for a convenient scapegoat. At least, I hope this is the case. The Pakistani students didn't seem bothered by him outwardly, though I'm sure they wondered the same thing. I hope he doesn't cause too much harm or ill will. I am sorry that he might.
I rushed home to meet my mother since she had agreed to drive down from the suburbs to collect a piece of cheesecake that I had make with my very own hands. It's one of my things, experimenting with cheesecake that is. This one featured a ground cherry coulis. It made me happy that my mother would go out of her way just to sample this latest concoction. Maybe that is an attestment to the quality of my cheesecakes. Or, maybe she just loves me and thinks it prudent to show her support. Maturity has taught me to acknowledge that while the former is probable and true, the latter is the primary reason that she comes. I give my cheesecakes away piece by piece. The painter who will repaint my bathroom this week got one too. I hope he liked it too.
After grading a few more exams, I went to meet my dear friend Floriane at the gym. On my way there as I walked along the main downtown strip, I noticed that someone was driving alongside slowly and trying to signal me from his car. I absolutely hate, and I mean hate, when this happens. I've often wished that something terrible would happen to these guys that seem to think they can snatch me up off of any random street corner since I have nothing better to do, nowhere to go and noone to meet. Wy should he whistle and hiss at me as if I am some sort of dog who will respond to any call? I realize that I consider these scenarios in the most negative light possible, but so would you after all these years of living this groundhog day of a scenario. A note to these men who call out to me, signal me, follow me or who have the audacity to reach out and touch me at all. I see you. I have always seen you. I see you the entire time that you are acting out this ridiculous charade. I do not want to speak with you and I resent you for interrupting a perfectly pleasant reverie. I see you but I pretend that I do not. I ALWAYS wear a walkman, sunglasses and oftentimes a hat. I do this to preserve a sense of anonymity but if you do notice me, know that I have noticed you too, in the negative sense. This probably upsets me so much because I have had great difficulty moving past these shallow expressions of appreciation to find something more true in love and romance. I feel simultaneously invisible and noticeably threatening. This causes people either to pursue me relentlessly like an animal or to make concerted attempts to break me down in some way - to reduce me general sense of self-importance. It won't happen. I feel fine either way but, having a wonderful group of friends who see me multifacetedly, I wish only for one more person to see past the ceramic toy sitting on the crystal shelf. There is a human being in there, please respond to me as such. And so I carried this sense of disgust for ten more minutes until I got to the gym. Dear Floriane showed up mere moments later and the negative feelings slipped away. She is self-confident, secure, smart and uncomplicated in the good sense. I never need be at the ready around her and that is calming. My friends do a lot to soften the rough edges of humanity and help me maintain a humanitarian outlook on life.
After a pleasant workout, we did some light grocery shopping and then I came home to grade some more and I ended the evening by watching SVU. It was sad. People on message boards have disparaged the last two episodes and I disagree with their disdain. Despite my internal ly emotional rollercoster of a day and despite the general turmoil of the episode, I end my day knowing that I am lucky, supported, happy and that I am on the right path to doing exactly what I want to do with my life.
I hope you're happy too.
Good night.
Kisses,
Laurelle
The day started slowly. I usually win the race against my alarm to open my eyes for the day and today was no exception. Groggily, my eyelids fluttered as I tried to shake the life back into my body. I can take no more than five seconds of my alarm ringing. Once it goes off, I quickly turn it to the radio setting and listen to the morning show on CBC Radio One until the half-hourly jingle passes enough times to let me know that it's now or never and I get out of bed. It doesn't take me very long to shower, change and get ready. Usually, I manage to ingest a few crumbs of something starchy and swallow half a cup of ginger, rooibos or ginseng tea then leave a half hour before the class that I am auditing. Always, I contemplate not going. Always, I am relieved that I have gone in the end. The professor, Michael Hoover, is engaging and clear. He always manages to give us a good story or two - a hefty and marvelous feat for a class in advanced statistics.
After class I went over to the building where I give conference. Since I am usually early for conference, sometimes I stop by the bulletin board to check for interesting events and offers at McGill. Really, it's a time waster. Today I saw the ad to the left. I don't know if you can read the ad, but it is a plea for a pet adoption. Gigi is a 7 month old pitbull mix. She is slightly afraid of men because she lived in a violent home where a men kicked and beat her, his wife and his kids. Due to her breed she was marked for death at the SPCA but someone saved her. Now she is looking for a home. If you can take her and you are a loving person, call 514-523-5052. I don't know these people, I just saw the ad. I would take her, but I can't. I don't have the space and Dundee, the cat and friend with whom I live, would be furious. Looking at Gigi's face, I really feel for her. She doesn't deserve to die. She deserves love, as we all do.Today, I led my Tuesday conference session for the second time this semester. I don't know if everyone feels this way, but I take my teaching responsibility very seriously. I hate academia. I don't know if anybody realizes just how much this environment bothers me. As a teaching assistant, I feel that my duty is to make sure everybody understands the material and can analyze or critique it to the level of an A student. In general, and definitely at McGill, the prevailing attitude dictates that most students should feel like failures, that we should allow them to fall by the wayside because that is where they deserve to be. Only an artificial of 10% deserve to give the rest of the world the impression that they are distinctly better than everybody else. This disgusts me and I try as much as I can to counteract it. I beg my students to give me clear, precise explanations and stringent analyses and more often than not my conference sessions are demonstrations of this request.
The subject was Cosmopolitanism and one of the articles used John Rawls theory of a just society to make the case for open borders in a global age. The article assumed that the reader already understood the theory. I started the session by explaining the theory and I am so happy that I did because the class started off on the same footing and we had the most incredible, well-reasoned, well-challenged discussion. I hope that tomorrow's sessions unfold in the same way, and that the sessions yet to come can be just as engaging. They understood the issues. They understood why liberal rationality is Western-centric and how to challenge that notion. They questioned the idea that individual freedom should prevail over the common good. Most of them being "westerners," they struggled with a newfound sense of responsibility even as they continued to covet their own personal freedoms. Still, I am sad that I have had to grade them so harshly on the first midterm. I am considering revising muy thresholds and raising all the grades. Right now, the median is hovering at about 69% (B-) though the average is a 70.2%. I think they deserve at least a strong B.
After leaving conference I walked west along Sherbrooke street and passed McGill's main gates where the most striking images crossed my eyes. The Pakistani Students Association was collecting donations for the earthquake relief effo
rt and explaining the extent of the devastation over a megaphone. Alongside them was a mainstay figure at the McGill gates. For over a year a middle-aged man has been picketing the gates with a sign espousing anti-Semetic and anti-gay propaganda. Everybody ignores him though once in a while someone stops to ask him why. I haven't asked him why yet, though I want to do so. I just need to be in the right mood because I don't know what he will say. Based on his sign, I suspect he had a bad experience at the Jewish General Hospital. I gather he has gone through some great pain and looked for a convenient scapegoat. At least, I hope this is the case. The Pakistani students didn't seem bothered by him outwardly, though I'm sure they wondered the same thing. I hope he doesn't cause too much harm or ill will. I am sorry that he might.I rushed home to meet my mother since she had agreed to drive down from the suburbs to collect a piece of cheesecake that I had make with my very own hands. It's one of my things, experimenting with cheesecake that is. This one featured a ground cherry coulis. It made me happy that my mother would go out of her way just to sample this latest concoction. Maybe that is an attestment to the quality of my cheesecakes. Or, maybe she just loves me and thinks it prudent to show her support. Maturity has taught me to acknowledge that while the former is probable and true, the latter is the primary reason that she comes. I give my cheesecakes away piece by piece. The painter who will repaint my bathroom this week got one too. I hope he liked it too.
After grading a few more exams, I went to meet my dear friend Floriane at the gym. On my way there as I walked along the main downtown strip, I noticed that someone was driving alongside slowly and trying to signal me from his car. I absolutely hate, and I mean hate, when this happens. I've often wished that something terrible would happen to these guys that seem to think they can snatch me up off of any random street corner since I have nothing better to do, nowhere to go and noone to meet. Wy should he whistle and hiss at me as if I am some sort of dog who will respond to any call? I realize that I consider these scenarios in the most negative light possible, but so would you after all these years of living this groundhog day of a scenario. A note to these men who call out to me, signal me, follow me or who have the audacity to reach out and touch me at all. I see you. I have always seen you. I see you the entire time that you are acting out this ridiculous charade. I do not want to speak with you and I resent you for interrupting a perfectly pleasant reverie. I see you but I pretend that I do not. I ALWAYS wear a walkman, sunglasses and oftentimes a hat. I do this to preserve a sense of anonymity but if you do notice me, know that I have noticed you too, in the negative sense. This probably upsets me so much because I have had great difficulty moving past these shallow expressions of appreciation to find something more true in love and romance. I feel simultaneously invisible and noticeably threatening. This causes people either to pursue me relentlessly like an animal or to make concerted attempts to break me down in some way - to reduce me general sense of self-importance. It won't happen. I feel fine either way but, having a wonderful group of friends who see me multifacetedly, I wish only for one more person to see past the ceramic toy sitting on the crystal shelf. There is a human being in there, please respond to me as such. And so I carried this sense of disgust for ten more minutes until I got to the gym. Dear Floriane showed up mere moments later and the negative feelings slipped away. She is self-confident, secure, smart and uncomplicated in the good sense. I never need be at the ready around her and that is calming. My friends do a lot to soften the rough edges of humanity and help me maintain a humanitarian outlook on life.
After a pleasant workout, we did some light grocery shopping and then I came home to grade some more and I ended the evening by watching SVU. It was sad. People on message boards have disparaged the last two episodes and I disagree with their disdain. Despite my internal ly emotional rollercoster of a day and despite the general turmoil of the episode, I end my day knowing that I am lucky, supported, happy and that I am on the right path to doing exactly what I want to do with my life.
I hope you're happy too.
Good night.
Kisses,
Laurelle
posted by Laurelle St. Laurent at 11:03 p.m.
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