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Volcano

9/22/2008

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One of my favorite movies of all time is Me and You and Everyone We Know. It's about making connections with people, whether it's for romantic, curious, or obligatory reasons. I am a person who craves connection. Part of it stems from being an only child and having to mostly entertain myself. It fuels much of my creativity, that I'm not only trying to connect with other people but also connecting with the page, the screen or the brush. Me and You and Everyone We Know is about the direct and indirect relationships we have with people and objects and time, as well as visualizing our desires and making them happen.

Today I finished my first round of classes. I teach four writing classes at the university and week one is officially over, even though Mondays usually imply a beginning. Teaching is interesting, it's rewarding, and it also is a form of self-introspection that I would search for when drawing self-portraits. When I stood in front of a classroom and let myself teach, I recognized aspects I don't always notice about myself. I'm funny, I'm animated, I am far more emotionally driven than I am by logic. I am more concerned with my students enjoying class, wanting to come to class, and learning along the way. I expect to challenge them but I don't want them to dread the challenge. I stressed from the beginning that my grading scale heavily depends on participation and attendance. One of my favorite classes in college was Poetry with Marty Williams. It was a low-stress class that I hated to skip; I looked forward to going and enjoyed the time spent. This is partially because I love writing poetry, but it was nice knowing that as long as I did my best and gave my full participation, I was going to get a good grade. This was especially nice when I had other classes I dreaded going to, core classes that kicked my ass on a weekly basis. Poetry was my sanctuary. I guess I want to somewhat mimic that with my course.

Volunteer-teaching the adults at night is sometimes easier and other times more difficult than teaching the sophomores during the day. Their English is not as advanced as the university students, however, as a whole there is more of a desire to learn the subject. Not knowing Chinese makes it a challenge in both classes when I want to relay my ideas. However, when I strike a chord, a light flashes of familiarity. Teaching is about making a connection. Daily, to dozens of people at a time, I establish connections and fulfill that inner craving I've had since youth.

It was especially fulfilling last week when one of my students approached me at break and said there were other students sitting in on the class who weren't enrolled for it. They heard about me teaching it so they wanted to join. I guess all those years of unpopularity are polarizing themselves with the present time. I surely won't shut my door to it, it's nice knowing people want to take my class.

I have a student in one of my classes. Her English name is Volcano. I thought that was rad. I was able to connect with it, as half of my brain has laid dormant for four years. While I'm not violently erupting, I am blossoming ideas and observing things differently. Teaching forces you to re-examine your every day experiences. I find myself explaining to myself just what it is I'm doing, what I'm saying, how I'm saying it. Teaching helps me develop better whys and hows rather than just the whats and the whos. Go beyond the facts and form discussion. Connect.

I explained to my students today that Chinese was similar to English as it opposite: in English, ten words can describe one thing. In Chinese, one word can describe ten things. Recognizing that common, uncommon link will allow both of us to come one step closer in understanding each other.

I really like teaching. Sometimes I want to pull my hair out but it's worth it. When I make my lesson plans I think, How is this applicable to real life? Can they take this out of the classroom and actually use it or is this useless knowledge to stash away forever? I try to make my lessons as useful as possible, all the while dancing around and making them laugh so they don't get bored. I tell them it's okay to laugh at me. Self-deprecation seems to be my pattern of recognition, but at least it's a harmless form of humor. I've got their attention, they've got mine. I think we both walk out happy.

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