Native Speaker

I watched the most recent episode of Glee last night and it actually got me thinking about something other than Broadway. There was a character who was a Spanish teacher at night school and was also a native speaker. Throughout the episode multiple people mentioned the fact that he was a native speaking teacher. They seemed to infer that this was a very desirable quality. They never mentioned if his students understood spoken or written Spanish. They never showed his students speaking in the target language. However, the high school students wanted him to be the new Spanish teacher for two reasons only: he is handsome and he is a native speaker. Now, I understand that the current teacher in the show does not speak Spanish well at all. But what about those of us who have dedicated years to learning a language and culture? If I had been the high school teacher would everyone be as eager to give me the boot just to get Ricky Martin? (Yes, I also realize that he can sing better than I can.)

To top things off, I heard something similar on the local radio yesterday morning. The county community college had a representative discussing the interesting classes that are open to anyone. The woman made sure that the audience understood that all of the foreign language classes are taught by a native speaker. First of all, I highly doubt that is true. Secondly, why does it matter? Shouldn't she have mentioned that they are all bilingual or have many years experience in the class room? I feel like there are many other traits that would reel-in people.

Now I can't help but wonder if this is how school districts feel. If I plan to be a high school Spanish teacher, am I going to have to worry that someone will be chosen over me because they are a native speaker? Is this trait more important than experience or training? If that is the way things are then maybe I now have a valid excuse to move to Spain to teach English.

Life is like the surf . . .

I sometimes forget that I have such amazing people in my life that want to help me.  I blame my pride. As a child I was always told that I can do anything. My parents never did my homework. Yes, I never earned an 'A' on a science fair project but I learned so much. However, this self-esteem has brought with it an ugly friend. Since I believe that I can do anything that I put my mind to, I hate asking for help. I don't want to look like I'm lazy or stupid. I am starting to realize that asking for help is not lazy nor stupid. It is a proactive way to find your path again. Trying to do everything by yourself is just too stressful. I've been juggling too many balls lately and I even had a couple of panic attacks in the past few months. If I had opened my eyes I would have seen that everyone was behind me, supporting me.

Another problem is that I can be a perfectionist. I spend too much time on details that, in the end, do not matter. I follow recipes to the t. Even as a child I don't recall every coloring outside of the lines. I prefer things to be congruent, balanced, and even. Now, at twenty-four, I am seeing that I am setting up myself for failure. I've known for a long time that life is messy. That might be why I like to organize everything. It gives me a sense of control over my path. Like oil and water, my habits don't  mesh with Fate's plans for me. Yes, being organized is great. Yes, I am rarely late to anything. Is it worth the extra stress to be early with an ironed blouse, shaved legs, and just the right amount of jewelry? I thought so but my mind is changing. The world isn't going to stop if I'm a little late. I will survive if I change a recipe and it tastes awful. The science experiment might literally blow up in my face. Thinking back I realize that some of my favorite moments in life were spontaneous and done on a whim. I live in a comfortable house in a nice neighborhood thanks to a gut feeling. I've been to the Branch Davidian complex at midnight on Halloween just to scare myself. I learned how to build a picnic table with my boyfriend just because we wanted to build something. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I need to ignore my urge to plan everything and just go with the flow. I'll survive with my friends by my side.

-"Life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea." -Y Tu Mamá También

Life, the Universe, Everthing

Well, I'm trying to finish up a section of my thesis to send off to my thesis director. I'm so distracted by so many things. I have dirty dishes in the sink, loud neighbors, loud neighbors' loud dogs, and trying to figure out how to have Christmas with two families. I have an ill family member, teacher evaluations (for me), and filing to do. I have meals to plan, groceries to buy, and dinners to cook. What is funny about all of this is that the one person that keeps me from going insane is also usually the one person that stresses me the most. I honestly believe that it's part of loving someone. No one is perfect so you have to deal with the small annoyances to get to the great person. There are so many cliches that are popping into my head: If you can't beat them, join them; something about lumps in mashed potatoes; I'm only human. Yeah, my mind isn't working very well if you can't tell. That's why I'm writing here for a moment instead of on my thesis. I would hate for writing this cruddy to end up on my thesis.

I had a brilliant moment the other day with my thesis. My dad was able to help me out and find a book that I really needed but could only seem to find in far away cities. Tomorrow I'll have a photocopy of the section I need. I'm really excited to sit down and read it.

I don't have much else to report. I'm excited for Christmas but not excited for having to drive a few hundred miles in a matter of a week. My birthday is also coming up and I have completely forgotten to plan anything. This is fairly common since my birthday is so close to Christmas and New Year.

I should get back to the important writing. It may be cruddy but that's better than blank pages. I might delete this post later. The writing is just horrid.

On Car Maintanence

Ever since my sister JM got her car, I have enjoyed working on cars. She let me help change oil, change tires, and other little repairs. I say "work on cars" in a very loose way. The most complicated thing I've done was to change the cabin air filter. On my car, this would normally be a five minute job. Oh, but the town I live in doesn't seem to appreciate my Korean-born car. I was smart enough to look-up the part number that I needed and go to the closest car part store. I was a little upset that they didn't have it but I thought, "I'll just go to their other location a couple of miles away." Luckily, I was smart enough to ask an employee if he could check the availability before I left. That particular store doesn't carry the part . . . in any of their stores nation-wide. Yes, it was on the web site but that was only for those who wanted it special ordered. Ha! I wasn't going to fall for that money hole so I set off to go to their competitor.

 After checking their telephone book-like guide on proper parts for every car known to man, I began my search on the shelves. Lo and behold, they had none. I did not even bother to ask if another branch had it. I moved to my last resort, my personal hell: the ever-overcrowded Wal-Mart (God help my soul). After looking through their manuals and finding blank spaces for "cabin air filter", I simply asked an employee. No Wal-Mart in the United Freaking States of America has my filter in stock. They do not even do special orders. At this point you must think I own an Opal or a 1969 Mustang *drool*. Nope. I drive a Kia Spectra. It may not be as popular as Honda but it was not specially shipped here just for me.

I ended my search and just went home. I thanked God for online shopping until I actually started shopping. Amazon.com sells two brands of filters that fit my car. One costs twelve dollars but would take a month to arrive. The other costs eighteen but I could get it in a matter of days. I chose the more expensive in hopes that I might get it before the weekend. All in all, I suppose all of the insanity was worth it just to avoid a $55 bill to have a professional do it.

Stop looking so smug. I hate your perfectly white fibers.

A new church

I'm not known to be someone who purposefully goes past her comfort level. This is true with religion and, more specifically, where I attend church services. I have been going to the same type of church my entire life. I was born and raised in one sect of Christianity and have only been to a handful of services for different types of Christianity. As I meet more Christians, my ideas about Christianity have changed slightly. I have realized that all of these different sects of Christianity are not, for the most part, very different from each other. Yes, services can be incredibly varied from church to church but the underlying command never changes: love.

Yesterday was my first time to go to a Sunday service at a church that falls into the same traditions with which my boyfriend grew up knowing. The only things that I found different were the music and the congregation. Some of the music was not what I prefer for Sunday service. However, I did enjoy the challenge to sight sing music with complex melodies. It has been a long time since I have seen a 6/8 time signature. The music wasn't what caught my attention though.

I have never met a group of such outgoing people in a church. It seemed that almost everyone wanted to introduce themselves to us and welcome us personally to their church. No one tried to push us into joining, donating money, or taking part in their ministries. They simply expressed their happiness to meet us and their hope that they would see us again. What actually shocked me was that not a soul found it odd that I was not the same type of Christian as them and that I have no plans of changing that. I learned that this church had Baptists, Lutherans, Roman Catholics, Methodists, etc and it didn't matter. My boyfriend and I agreed that these Christians seem to look at our religion in the same light. We may give ourselves different names for what we believe but that's not what matters. In the end, we all were there to praise God, learn how to love, and to support each other. This is a church that seems to have the message right: love God, follow his laws, and love each other. The rest will come along naturally.