Thursday, August 26, 2010

Idnignation.

Usually my blogs are made for two purposes. They are either meant to be touching and inspiring, involving some deep sort of interesting thought I have, or they are meant to bring laughter, whether at something I found funny, or at my frustration about a situation. I'm not above laughing at myself in my blog. Rarely, though, if ever, have I written a post that is angry and meant to make others angry. I try to avoid blogs about politics, religion, or something else explosive, because I feel like we have enough blogs trying to prove points to the world about governments and whatnot.

But, as I yelled a common rant to an acquaintance, I realized that maybe I should make a blog about this, where I won't find my speed and volume of speaking increasing steadily to the point where, tongue-tied, I stutter angrily before yelling out a noise of frustration, leaving the listener bewildered and amused, though not thoroughly convinced of what I was trying to say. I'd much rather lay my thoughts out coherently in the world of cyberspace, where I find myself able to express myself more clearly than in any words I have ever spoken.

(Note: If you've ever talked to me in real life, you've heard this rant before.)

I chose the career choice of education to inspire. I could have done something more challenging or difficult, or even something more interesting or rewarding. I didn't want that, though. I wanted to be a teacher, to inspire thought, learning, and passion in young minds, to help them grow into smart, understanding individuals.

I find it a shame that in our society, education is a fallback career. "If you can't do, teach." So many of my fellow classmates have this, "I didn't know what else I could do so I chose education." There are such minimal requirements to enter teaching as a career, so that anyone can fall back to education when all other career options fail. Why are people not outraged by this? Children are being taught by some of the lowest minds in the college society, learning from the slackers who decided everything else was too challenging or too much effort, so they decided to teach. People for some reason find this acceptable. While the nation mourns how our education is so much lower than that of other countries and funnels millions of dollars into trying to fix the problem, they fail to realize that the budget does no good when it is being poured into employees with little care, passion, or knowledge for what they do. What good will better supplies do when in the hands of someone who won't utilize them to their full potential, to someone who will treat their students the same way they treated their college career: meeting the bare, minimum requirements necessary to avoid being unemployed?

Almost any other degree-requiring job has higher, more competitive standards than teaching. For example, only the most brightest, most dedicated, and most passionate minds make it through the schooling necessary to become doctors, through years of intense effort, to earn enough of our trust to care for our bodies and physical health. Why, then, do we not have the same amount of concern and standards for the people who foster our thinking minds? Is our mind not so much more the essence of who we are, what we are, than the body, the mere shell, that houses it?

I spend so much of my time, too much of my time, allowing the things with which I disagree to pass me by, considering them as the inevitable things in life that will frustrate me. But no more. I'm no longer going to sit back and allow the state of education to continue as it is. I don't know where I start, I don't know how I, as one person, can make a difference, but I will find a way. Change has to start somewhere, maybe it already is and I can assist it, or maybe I'll be fighting a battle against people who don't care enough to listen or help. But what good is feeling this indignant if I'm not going to attempt to right it?

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Mayans.

In 2012, the Mayans think the world is going to end. Or at least they just decided to only make a calendar to that point, and were going to tackle 2013 once they got there, which they saw no point in doing at the time, much like our Y2K crisis.

Anyways, in 2012, there will be a natural disaster and lots of people will die. Do I know this because of the Mayans? No, I know this because it inevitably and quite sadly happens every year.

But when it does happen, believe you me, they will say, "Those Mayans were right... they knew. They knew."

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Social Chameleons.

"My typical username is b4d4ndyg00dpizz4
Is that interesting enough? Being interesting isn't my strong point. If I can help it, I blend into crowds. I like to be a social chameleon, to exist, but not to stand out. Seeing topics that require me to go out of my way to be noticed isn't scary so much as perplexing for me. Will my topic be interesting enough? Will it be too strange? Will it be acceptable? Thousands of other questions run through my mind as I try to think of some sort of topic that represents me."

For an online class, we were required to post on the forums about ourselves, with an interesting title. This was the beginning of my post.

Lately, more and more, I question my sanity as a human being. I know everyone does, but I'm talking about in terms of social interactions. Last year, when I stayed in my dorm and played WoW, it was so easy to just pass so many social activities. And it wasn't because WoW was more important, it's because it's so easy for me to sit in my room by myself, only having to interact through a computer. If I am out walking around campus, I prefer to have my headphones in, safely barricaded from the strangers around me. I don't strike up conversation with strangers if I can help it, unless social situations deem it absolutely necessary.

This year, I've been much more social. Some events I find fun and look forward to attending, but often I find myself torn. I'd much rather stay in my room, I'd much rather stay at home, I'd much rather skip out. And then I push myself to go, reminding myself that it's not normal to spend all my time alone, normal people want to do things, normal people like other people, normal people like large group activities full of strangers and cliques that don't notice you, with maybe a little bit of space for your presence, your friendship, your interaction. And, whether I have a good time or not, it's always the fact that even if I think I'd have fun, I have to talk myself into being social, I have to remind myself of what's normal. I hear friends wanting to do things and not having enough time, I hear friends who enjoy social interactions with strangers, and I wonder what happened to the bubbly, busy, over-eager girl from high school, who only recently pushed herself into joining the first choir in three years and is taking half of her classes online. Who is this strange person I am becoming, more and more secluded?