‘I Am Not A Teacher, But An Awakener.’ – Robert Frost

Not everyone can remember the exact moment when they had their first life changing moment

I can

I was in grade two

We were gathered around on the floor waiting to meet our new teacher

Everyone was excited and nervous

A little background:

I’d gone to the same school since Junior Kindergarten

It was a Catholic elementary school

With predominantly Italian-Canadian kids like me

The teachers were mostly Italian descent as well

They were all what you’d picture elementary school teachers to look and dress like

I liked my teachers enough

I liked school enough

And then Art walked in

Right into my grade two classroom

I knew things wouldn’t be the same

My jaw dropped, along with pretty much all the other kids

It was a woman with platinum blonde crimped hair and she wore a sorta green taffeta Victorian style dress

She had thick black eyeliner and red lip stick and pointy boots

I had never seen something so beautiful before

While the other kids were murmuring to each other that she they thought she looked kinda weird

I just sat there

And thought ‘I want to be just like her when I grow up’

I was lucky enough to have Ms. T as my teacher, 3 times over the years

She was so artistic and creative

And I loved the creative writing prompts she would give us

Where I could write whatever I wanted

We would read in front of the class

Which undoubtedly gave me the confidence that I still have today, to enjoy public speaking (somewhat of a rarity for anxiety-sufferers)

I can’t even count how many times she told me how much she believed in me, even standing up for me, when it was appropriate

Me

A little girl, then a 10 year old brat and lastly a weird 12 year old unsure of her place in the world

She would often see me standing waiting for the bus after school

And would drive me home

I absolutely loved those moments

When I felt I had a special connection with her that the other kids didn’t have

I looked forward to seeing her yellow Jeep driving down the street towards me

I’d sit in the front passenger seat and chat

I left the Jeep positively glowing

Even now when I look back on my memories, it comes with a sort of magic

Which is fitting since I was sure she was a witch with her clothes, shoes and makeup

But not the scary kinda witch that kids are often afraid of

No, Ms. T was the good witch

The one that carried a little bit of magic in her Victorian lace pockets

The magic that made me love learning and writing

Sprinkling just enough of it for me to feel so at ease and happy in her presence

When I got into high school

I was already expressing myself differently

Dying my hair

And wearing all black

Later painting my eyes black

And so on

Life had shifted so dramatically

Where I once loved to learn with an amazing teacher

Now I was often being kicked out of class for not wearing the uniform to the various teachers liking

I hated English classes almost more than any

I had two different teachers

That would pick on me mercilessly in front of the entire class

About my make up

About my hair

About my jewellery

About me

I wish I could tell you it didn’t bother me

But it had a profound effect on me

I started to hate school and resent these teachers

Most authority figures too

In the dreaded math class where I struggled the most

I was kicked out so often that I got frustrated and annoyed

I remember saying to the teacher and later to the Vice Principal

That it just didn’t make any sense

To kick me out of a class that I’d needed the most help with

I grew disenfranchised and apathetic to learning

I skipped school a lot

What was the point, I’d probably get kicked out for a uniform infraction or another

I’d see other girls often not even in uniform, and they’d make it through, completely unscathed

Over the years I’d still run into Ms. T and she always made me feel just as special as that kid who got rides in her Jeep

I couldn’t understand how she could be in the same profession as these other teachers who seemed to care more about deterring young women from figuring out who they were than of any real learning

In grade eleven, there was a new Principal and she hated me on sight

There was a meeting held

I think my father came

I can’t remember much of it

I hated school

I didn’t want to leave my friends

But I couldn’t keep doing this

The meeting had a lot to do with the school urging me to change my ‘look’

Or face the consequences

Not change my behaviour

Just the way I looked

I’d been told by my family numerous times

That it would be so much easier if I could just change

I knew they were trying to help what was becoming a horrible situation

I just couldn’t do it

I remember once my best friend and I swapped outfits as a joke

She wore my ripped shorts and flannel with a band tee and I wore her neatly pressed button up blouse with dressy shorts

I felt like my skin was crawling

I don’t know how else to explain it

I felt fake

I felt like everyone could see me without my clothes on

To have changed my outward appearance was simply not an option for me

I left the school

I went to an alternative public school

Which was the polar opposite of what I was used to

In every imaginable way

I still stood out, it just wasn’t a big deal

I wish I could say I was able to get back what I’d lost

That love of learning

But by this point I just wanted to graduate and never look back

I missed my friends most of whom I’d known since elementary school

I missed being around kids of the same culture I’d grown up in

It was kinda a culture shock

I remember urging my parents not to attend graduation

Fearful of how much they would stand out in a sea of waspy parents

Ironic right?

Sure I was lucky enough to have awesome teachers once again

Even one who let me focus my entire Independent Studies in Anarchy as a political ‘structure’

I still smile at that

Unfortunately, I never enjoyed school the way I had previously

I look back at my life of the years

Of course I think maybe it would have been easier if I’d somehow chosen on a different path

But it just never felt like a choice

Truthfully, I cannot imagine it any other way

I don’t think I really even want to

And I’m certain that Ms. T walked into my classroom and changed the trajectory of my life in the best way possible

I hope she knows for that, I will always be grateful

Through the difficulties, through it all

I can unequivocally say that the one thing I’m completely comfortable in, is my own skin and who I am as an individual

Which so many people, never seem to achieve

More-so, I’m confident in who I am

I owe it to Ms. T

After all, she steered me clear of becoming anything but boring

Advertisements

‘How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard?’ Winnie the Pooh

Some days the light is so bright that all I can do is immerse myself in it

The pain I usually feel is overwhelmed by the natural beauty the light bestows

Upon me

And all I can do is worship at its sight

Like a pilgrimage to a holy site

I sit in bask in what can only be described as incandescent

The way it heats my face and my body is a reminder of how alive I am in this moment

When I turn away

I am reminded how fleeting beauty can be

And how this moment may not last forever

And there might be a time when I can no longer see the beauty right in front of me

But memories fade and I want proof that this moment existed

I take a picture and write a poem

And hope that something gets imprinted onto my heart

So that I may be able to conjure up these feelings on the days when I just can’t find the light no matter how hard I try

Day 2 of 3 Quote challenge

Amidst the chaos of moving I almost forgot to post my quote for Day 2.

I’m not gonna nominate any more people cause I’m a rebel like that (read lazy).

This quote is hauntingly beautiful isn’t it? It’s no big surprise that I see myself as ‘broken’ and Hemingway helps me see it as not just a negative thing. Of course being broken isn’t ideal and I would have loved a different life but this quote makes me see the beauty in it. With all the cracks in my armour, the light flows in and it allows me to be the sensitive and empathetic person that I am. There may be parts of me that are damaged but there’s beauty in there too and that’s from the light shining in.

I want to dance in the rain

I don’t want to be that person above that sits impatiently waiting for the huge storm to pass

With tired eyes and a listless body

I don’t want to be the person that misses out on the feelings of being alive you only get while dancing in the rain

With a heavy heart and a restless soul

I don’t want to be the person that sits and sits wondering when the storm will end

I do want to be the person that makes the best of what the storm is offering

I do want to be the person that can revel in magic of the strongest storms

I do want to be the person that can revel in the beauty of the sun coming out after a dark storm

But what do you do when your body and your mind and your soul are all operating at different levels of abilities?

Your body wants to sleep

Your mind wants to give up

And your soul vacillates between wanting to run and wanting to steal someone else’s happiness

Some days my body can’t go on

And I have to call in sick from life

And I have to sleep

And I have to hope that rest will be what my body is needing

Some days my mind’s suffering is so strong

And I need to escape from life

And I need to sleep

And I need to hope that I either won’t wake up or that I’ll wake up whole again? For the first time?

My favourite are the days when my soul is screaming the loudest that it can’t be ignored and I have no choice in the matter

And I just live

And I just laugh

And I just love

So fully

So heartily

So fucking strongly

That I hope it will be enough to keep me going

On the days when my body and my mind are all I can listen to

And I can’t remember what the rain drops felt like cooling my skin as I danced and danced under the magical stormy sky

I want to box it up

With tape and bubble wrap

And beautiful hopefulness

I can replace my broken heart with it

I can replace my damaged mind with it

And I can live the way my soul wants me to

Never simply waiting for the storm to pass

Always dancing to the chaos of the rain drops

The only way me soul expects me to…

The line begins to blur


I had a weird moment the other day

I went swimming and obviously had to take off my glasses
I couldn’t see shit

I got so frustrated

I went into the water and put on goggles

And

The world came into focus 

Crystal clear and vivid

I glided under the water 

It felt like I was dreaming 

I could see like I could before MS fucked everything up

And I know it was just the inside of a swimming pool

But

It was so fucking perfect

All bright colours

And defined lines

I put my arms out in front of me 

I watched them 

Thinking how something so insignificant like my fucking outstretched arms

Could be so beautiful

I came out of the water several times

And dove under again

Testing the waters

Literally

Every time I went under

The world slipped back into focus

I’m sure there’s some scientific reasoning behind this

But I don’t really care 

Because for those brief moments

I didn’t struggle to see what was around me

I wasn’t being reminded of my disability

It was flawless

I was flawless

And then I got out of the water

And reality crashed like waves

The world was darker

Unfocused 

Everything was dimmed

Fucking irony

Graffiti Alley

Not the one I remember from my youth, but this picture does evoke the feelings I had when I was 15 at the original Grafitti Alley. Felt like I was exploring an unknown secret place. Like Harry Potter and Diagon Valley. I remember going home afterwards and smelling like incense and vintage clothes and unwrapping my small purchases and feeling so giddy that I knew of a hidden place with all kinds of the coolest shit my 15 year old could even conjur up.

Even when I’m lying in the gutter…I can still see the stars 

I watched a video the other night that someone shared on Facebook. It was a danish tv station that made the video. The concept was basic. We are all humans. But it got me.  Watch the video here:

Danish video
Maybe it’s because there’s so much hate and sadness in the world. But the message in the video just got to me. I believe in the goodness of humanity. That’s why I am a youth worker. I believe in hope and the possibilities for a better future. 
Sometimes all the sadness in the world really consumes me and I feel it in every single cell of my being. I think I’m some sort of an empath and can physically feel the pain and hurt of others. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming that I just want to close my eyes and cover my ears so I don’t have to bear witness to it…

With depression, those feelings can easily consume me. But when I get to see the beauty in the world. Fuck, if it isn’t all completely worth it. It’s like someone turned up the lights and everything is so dazzling and bright. And I cry out of sheer happiness..my heart feels like it can burst. Like it will burst, like I can’t simply contain all the love and happiness I feel in my heart. 

I don’t know if anyone else can relate or even understand the feelings that I have. When I feel that way I wish that everyone else could have a chance to have that heart bursting moment but then I think of the flip side and that darkness that comes with it, is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.