The week before the year

Sounds of today.

Winter Break is here, and everything is possibility. There's a chance to make the world new again.

Sunny and cold, it is December. The sunlight will get longer each day.

Mind over matter, cultivating spirit.

Here we go.

Thrush in the woods

There's nothing like the song of a wood thrush echoing through a tall green forest. I heard one on my walk in Middlesex Fells this morning. It keeps playing over and over in my head.

A poem of place

Epistles to Several Persons: Epistle IV

By Alexander Pope

...

       To build, to plant, whatever you intend,

To rear the column, or the arch to bend,

To swell the terrace, or to sink the grot;

In all, let Nature never be forgot.

But treat the goddess like a modest fair,

Nor overdress, nor leave her wholly bare;

Let not each beauty ev'rywhere be spied,

Where half the skill is decently to hide.

He gains all points, who pleasingly confounds,

Surprises, varies, and conceals the bounds.

       Consult the genius of the place in all;

That tells the waters or to rise, or fall;

Or helps th' ambitious hill the heav'ns to scale,

Or scoops in circling theatres the vale;

Calls in the country, catches opening glades,

Joins willing woods, and varies shades from shades,

Now breaks, or now directs, th' intending lines;

Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs.

       Still follow sense, of ev'ry art the soul,

Parts answ'ring parts shall slide into a whole,

Spontaneous beauties all around advance,

Start ev'n from difficulty, strike from chance;

Nature shall join you; time shall make it grow

A work to wonder at—perhaps a Stowe.
...

Do it yourself

These past few months I've been trying to learn to do some new things with my hands, like knitting and gardening. In the process, I've enlisted the help of Youtube, and just have to say how much I love the videos people make to share their knowledge and love of DIYing. Today I am hoping to transplant my veggie seedlings, so I've been studying up. Here are a couple of my favorites.

I don't really know what it is about it that I love them, except that there's such a variety of people all over the country who are united by a passion for one thing, like how amazing little plants are, and especially how attached you get to them if you start them from the very beginning-- just a simple little seed. I'm experiencing that too. The other thing is that everyone has a slightly different way of doing things, so there really is no one right way. In the end, it all comes down to basics: light, air, water, and soil!

Mockingbird singing

On our sunny Saturday afternoon walk to the farmers' market. It was so nice of him to delight us with his beautiful voice! And I finally learned what the mockingbird song is like and also learned that I can start keeping a "life list" of bird sightings in my Peterson bird iPhone app! Mockingbird, check.

Best of 2012 so far

We've gone from winter to spring in New England in the past two weeks. It's made me reflective on the year so far. A little bit of Somerville, Portland, and Stowe.

Two hawks, city hall

Soul music

It's a tough, tough world. The last couple have been especially rough. You march through these extended application processes, making it from round to round, building confidence, feeling good. Then the final decision: no. Cuts like a knife.

So many things are going through my mind about this experience, it's hard to process it all at once. One thing is, of course, anger. The number-one most frustrating thing is the utter lack of feedback with every rejection. So I could be essentially making the same mistakes in every interview, or overlooking a major handicap in my qualifications that I'm unaware of. Perhaps it's an affront or faux-pas to ask for feedback, but I don't think it should be. I processed more than 100 applications for 40 spots when hiring for my youth jobs programs last year, and still had time to write back to the rejected students if they asked for reasons. It's not only common courtesy, it's also a great way for the young people to learn and grow through the application process.

So anyway, I'm left in the dark. I question everything I've done in interviews now. New resolve: go in guns blazing and taking no prisoners. Use the anger and frustration to blow them out of the water, and not care if I'm overbearing or making an utter fool of myself. Am I talking too much? I'm sorry, but this is my time. Now listen to me.

But the reaction I'm starting to settle into is this: Stay true to yourself, KCH. Maybe I'm not elite or Ivy-league enough for some of these high-flying programs. But I have a great life. Music, community, friends, family, life experiences. Life experiences most of all. I'm proud of the varied and circuitous path I've had through life so far, and I wouldn't trade any one of those experiences. I have an incredible ability to reinvent myself, and get myself to places that no one expects me to go.

I ended up going to listen to music tonight. Bluegrass and funk at Sally O'Brien's. The banjo twanging was sort of stitching my soul back together. This weekend we go up to Stowe for a ski weekend, then next week a trip to Portland for more music. I can't forget that one of the biggest parts of me is my appreciation for the little things in life. It's not just what you do for a job that matters, it's how you live your life.

So as I walk home from work at my new part-time after-school teaching job at a Somerville middle school, I stop and check out the fuzzy green buds on a tree. I look up at the still-light dusky sky at 5:33 p.m., glad that the days are getting longer. The moon has risen, and it's glowing full through the clouds. It's nice being able to walk 10 minutes through your neighborhood to get to work each day. That is something to appreciate.

Made by hand

Not that I see myself lending a hand in the hand-made movement, but I really appreciate those who can and do. I just love hearing the stories of people who feel so satisfied by working a craft, especially when they describe their personal journeys to discovering it. One of my favorite examples is this video, about a writer-turned-knife-maker in Brooklyn. (The Bureau of Common Good, the production company that made this video, is creating a series of Made by Hand videos, including a gin distiller and a beekeeper). It's amazing how much sheer work this requires, but it's also amazing how intrinsically driven people who make things are. Made by Hand's about page states that it "was created out of the belief that the things we collect, consume, use, and share are part of who we are as individuals." Maybe that idea has something to do with why hand making things make people happy.

Made by Hand / No 2 The Knife Maker from Made by Hand on Vimeo.

I also came across this site, fuckyeahmadeinusa.tumblr.com, which does a great job collecting videos like the former-- profiles of local American companies that make things by hand and take the kind of great care and detail in their work that many of us find so foreign today. I ended up scrolling through and looking for Massachusetts companies and watching those clips. It was a great way to explore my local area in a different light than I had seen it before. It seems to me that people should be better informed about which companies are local to them, so they know who to support in the marketplace. I also started thinking about how "Made in USA" is something I never really saw much as a kid, compared to China, Philippines, Mexico, etc. So I came to believe that stuff just isn't made in the U.S., and accepted it as fact. But hearing and reading stories of how people not only derive a livelihood out of this type of work, but also can express passion and pride through their life's work, it makes me realize how sorely these ways toward fulfillment in people's lives are missed in this country.

I spent some time looking at the North Bennett Street School website (partially curious about how one would go about learning how to make things). It's a renowned craftsmanship school in the North End of Boston, started in 1885, teaching crafts such as furniture and cabinet-making, jewelry design and repair, preservation carpentry, piano technology, violin design and repair, etc. I found this video on their site, which I find very a propo:



History is amazing. It really is just a huge pendulum swinging back and forth, even though we all tell ourselves it is just constant unflinching progress with no looking or doubling back. I had heard the term "sloyd" before: when reading up on the history of Thompson Island of Boston Harbor, where I used to work for an experiential education non-profit. A boys school existed on the island for more than 100 years, and sloyd was a major part of the curriculum in the late 1800s. I saw photographs of boys at their workbenches learning their trade skills (the school changed its name from the Farm School to the Farm and Trade School at about that time). But I never knew the philosophy behind it-- about teaching a craft not just for developing job skills, but also for the education of the whole person, believing manual skills education is instrumental in the development of children's conceptual skills.

This is exactly what we're all on the hunt for in education today. How do we teach to a whole person? We're missing out on learning virtually any manual skills today. They're all regarded as "below" us for some reason, even sometimes below the label of education. I wished I had known the full meaning sloyd while I worked at Thompson Island, to further push my mission to have students "learn by doing" in our teen summer job program. Regardless, I'm intrigued to learn more about late 1800s education philosophies now, perhaps to incorporate into my current body of knowledge and beliefs about education.

As for myself, I am so sadly lacking in any shape or form of manual skills that I wonder if there is any hope for me to practice what I preach. But, I did just join a knitting group; my friend Erica so graciously offered to teach several of us in this definitely useful skill. (She wore a gorgeous infinity scarf to our house last weekend and when she told me she made it I got that quizzical look that I get when I marvel at how people can actually make their own stuff). So we shall see. Maybe I'll join the revolution after all.

Update: No sooner did I post this than did Channel 5's local news magazine Chronicle air a "Made in New England" episode last night. I had no idea that an East Boston company is the exclusive manufacturer of U.S. Navy peacoats! They sell them for consumers too, and they look pretty cute. Makes me think about where and why I should buy products that are made locally, instead of always hitting up the Target. P.S.- I LOVE Chronicle. (I'm officially old).

New tunes

Tammy Lynn turned me on to these guys. Now I can't stop hitting repeat. Thanks, TLF!

Today

Today (tonight) I am in an organizing frenzy in our home office, the first one in quite some time, or at least since my boyfriend and I moved into our Union Square apartment in September.

Perhaps it's because I am feeling an after-interview glow. Just got off the phone with Casey Kennedy (perfect name, right?) from Teach for America, after a 60-minute over-the-phone interview (was only supposed to be 30, I thought?). That makes it my 7th interview (5 in-person, 2 over-the-phone) since November, the start of my job search and new life chapter titled, How to Become a Teacher. (Don't know how it ends yet).

As of last week, I quit my job at Thompson Island to focus full-time on said mission. It has been one full week of unemployment! I think that deserves some sort of celebration. I am fully enjoying it so far, if not panicking in the back of my head that maybe it shouldn't be so enjoyable, but I am convinced that is the fearful, slave-to-the-man voice in my head that everyone has burrowed somewhere or another, and I stick to my belief that the triumphant one-- the one who is glowing after-the-interview, and with all the excitement of pursuing truly soul-inspiring opportunities, submitting resumes, emailing connector-folk, and booking appointments with fascinating, knowledgeable people, the ones who seem to have all the answers I seek and I only have to reach out and ask, ask, ask things of them-- yes the triumphant one, that is the voice that I should be listening to most of all.

I'm starting to understand something I never really did before. I am understanding what it is to have a clear idea of what I want out of life, and all of the wonderful benefits that go along with that. I have never experienced this before. I know I want to teach. I know I want to connect schools to communities. And I know I want to fully understand and in turn inspire a rich sense of natural and cultural place in myself and others, especially young people. The exact path to take is still not definitively laid out, but I think I'd rather it that way. The best part about the whole thing is that, not only do I sort of have a plan, I do feel like I'm putting together something wholly new, and not quite done before. Sure it has sort of been done before, but the image in my head of what needs to be done is unlike anything else I'm sure. (But like a lot of things too, which is a relief and an encouragement).

I'm meeting next Tuesday with a naturalist/research scientist and members of the board of director of the Friends of the Middlesex Fells Reservation, located in Medford, Mass., to talk about educational program ideas for local schools. It all started with the Boston Sunday Globe, the first one that arrived at my house after I finally made the grown-up decision to subscribe (by paying) to a paper newspaper. It was the first week of the year, and the article was about resolutions, and how to get out and volunteer in the community (the "North" section, it was...I am a North Shorer now, eeek!). The article featured a Mr. Kittredge who was volunteering a lot of his naturalist skills to surveying plants and animals in the Fells, and developing programs for the public. So, the next day, (while I was still at my job) I took a few moments to write an email expressing interest in volunteering to help with the effort. Now, we've got a great conversation going, based on my background in environmental education, to work together on new nature activities and programs for schools!

So, sure, that's not all that new. But it sounds pretty darn new and exciting to me. And I'm not getting paid. Maybe that's the secret! I think it was in that documentary I recently saw about Bill Cunningham, the New York Times "street fashion" photographer, that I heard it said, "The trick is to not let them give you any money, then you can do whatever you want!" or something along those lines. I guess all I would need to do then is to live in a teeny spare room in Carnegie Hall surrounded by file cabinets and wear the same blue workman's shirt everyday, bought for $12.95 at Home Depot, and then perhaps I could follow his advice. But to some degree, while I am in this magical little transition period, perhaps I could give this whole "doing whatever I want" thing a bit of a whirl.

OK so that is my life update then! It has been a little while. I'm glad to be back.

Going places

Thanks to Kira Lucier for sharing this video!

I'm at a new crossroads now.

"You will come to a place where the streets are not marked
Some windows are lighted but mostly they're dark.
A place you can sprain both your elbow and chin
Do you dare to stay out, do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose, how much can you win?
And if you go in, should you turn left or right
Or right and three quarters
Or maybe not quite
Or go around back and sneak in from behind
Simple it's not I'm afraid you will find
For a mind maker to make up her mind."

Couldn't think of a better place to be!