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Showing posts from 2007

Two Worlds

On clear mornings I watch the sunrise over Mt. Wilson on my way to work. Sometimes the sight is a moment of glorious beauty, a last breath before I enter my classroom where Jesse Fuller draws stars on his warm-ups all period long, Paul Reese must ask me to repeat every set of instructions I give, Leo Doehring never has a pencil, and Jonathan Parenty thinks the squeak in his chair is a musical instrument. I love my students dearly. I love them even though they "drive me batty" as Becca Schoff says. "No, you can't have a piece of candy for putting your name on your paper." "Stop tapping your pencils." "Look up here." "I need your attention." "Stop talking." "Why are you over there? Your seat is over here." "Give Alex his book back." "Turn around." "This IS a test!" Except for the occasional Harley on Beverly, home is a stark contrast to my work in the classroom. On

It Wasn't So Bad

The first rain in a very long time washed away the summer humidity and blew in crisp autumn air. The summer that seemed to last forever is over and now I look back on those days in nostalgia. The stars were aligned on August eighteenth. Several years ago my parents transplanted two grapevines on either size of a trellis in our backyard in hopes that they would grow up the bars and produce fruit over the brick walkway. For years the vines were fruitless, and my dad even talked about taking them out. Every summer they grew further, stretching their vibrant green leaves along the trellises, the white picket fence, and the brick pilasters, but no fruit. And then in early June of this year, clusters of green grapes appeared all along both vines. They would grow bigger and brighter until August eighteenth. One vine produced green grapes; the other, red. The unsightly tubers of the Naked Lady flowers outside the kitchen bay window shed layers of brown skin all spring. "If that plan

Who's Opinion?

I've never had so many people have an opinion about my life. People were quietly interested when I was attending Biola, when I got my pilot's license, and when I was reading Plato. But now that I've entered a part of life that they're familiar with, they must have their say. "Black dresses won't go with Kakhi suits." "You look pasty with foundation on." "When you want your husband to think you've been busy making dinner, sauté onions." "I read this book before my honeymoon and it made sex much better." "It's going to be too hot." "You have to invite her to the wedding. She'll be so offended if you don't." "Those vows exclude gender roles." "People aren't going to want to donate towards missions. They want to give you a gift." I've never considered myself someone who was ruled by other's opinions, but perhaps, just this once, I want to leave all th

Happy Father's Day

Fred Taylor doesn't believe in Father's Day. He believes that children ought to live with a grateful attitude towards their father's everyday of the year. In his perspective, setting aside a day for children to be uncharacteristically appreciative of their fathers is bogus. And so today, instead of showing special attention to our dad, our family went to Macaroni Grill to celebrate the 2 years Becca Schoff has lived with our family. Her teaching time at Whittier Christian Elementary School is coming to an end, and she will be leaving our home for Virginia this coming Thursday. In honor of her time with us, my dad, mom, brother (Jacob), sister (Jess), and myself braved the secular world in the dangerous company of ourselves. Things were relatively normal, as normal as any conservative, argumentative, audacious family might be. My mom made a meal of an appetizer, and Jessica ordered nothing but blackberry ice tea as she spread her multicolored vocabulary flashcards across