Never Fail Like Common People

Today in my English class, we were talking about Bakhtin and how he saw writing. There's one level of a story which was for the "common people". Then there was another level, a level of the story that was full of symbolism all the real meaning of the story.

My instructor was telling us about this because she wanted to discuss what literacy is. Sylvia Scribner wrote an essay and said that literacy is three things; literacy is adaptation, literacy is power, and literacy is a state of grace.

My instructor was really hung up on this whole literacy as power thing. Now, of course, I can agree with that to a point. When you are literate (and I don't just mean reading here, I mean communicating with your society as a whole) you do get power. But I don't think that's all literacy is.

We discussed how, in the past, literacy was held away from certain people. Women, African Americans, Irish, the poor, anyone who wasn't deemed fit somehow. It goes back to that Descarte line "I think, therefore I am." From what my instructor said, illiterate people did not think like the literate, and therefore they were not human.

I've never really linked literacy to humanity. You don't have to be literate in the strictest sense of the word to be human. Of course not! That's obtuse. But apparently people thought this way. Probably because of the time period I'm from, I can't really imagine anyone REALLY being illiterate.

In this day in age, it seems to me that most people have some base of education. Naturally, there are a shit ton of people who don't go to college, but that doesn't make them uneducated, I don't think. Likewise, I know people who go to college and they still aren't educated.

I'm rambling.

By stripping people of their humanity, we are denying them the world. I can agree with that. However, my instructor talked about oral tradition. They seem to hold the statement that "I am because WE are." There is no denial of humanity there.

Perhaps because I am from an individualistic society/culture, I don't understand holding my whole existence on other people acknowledging that I am here. Perhaps because I'm so used to finding my voice and screaming out loud to get noticed, I don't think I could hang my existence on that acknowledgement. I don't know if I could find that fulfilling.

Also, my instructor was talking about how everyone has the right to literacy. Naturally, of they do. Books are not written for a special elite, to educate a group that is already educated.

...Are they?

I write. (Hurr durr.) When I write, I have an audience in mind, I suppose. I don't try and make sure everyone who picks up my "novel" (read: heap of word soup) will understand it. I don't know why I do that. Maybe I always felt like it was patronizing when authors did that?


Is it my responsibility as a writer, to write books that any and all can understand? Or is it the responsibility of the reader to research and figure out what they can't understand?

Toni Morrison wrote Beloved, a prize winning novel. It's very, very post modern and hard to follow if you don't really understand post modernism. And yet, she won all those awards.

I don't know.

How Dare You Break My Lonely Heart

Today was a rough day with Mistah Jay.

I went to go hug him hello, as I normally do. He very violently slipped from my arms (he was sitting down in a chair) and turned to glare at me, tensing up his whole body. I almost fell down. I looked at him and just went; "Okay. That's fine." He remained in his dramatic frozen pose for several seconds.

Whatever. I don't have time for that kind of horseplay today. I sat down and got to my homework that was due before seven so I could participate in a live chat with my partner for English. It took me the better part of the morning, because I had to annotate.

Mistah Jay stared at me as I hugged my friend, went to the bathroom, got lunch, ate my lunch, got another friend's portable hard drive so I could have some new movies, and packed up for class. I didn't speak to him, even when he spoke to me.

I do realize this was petty as hell. I do understand this makes me a bitch. I don't disagree. I wanted him to be upset, because I was upset. I wanted him to understand that he doesn't get to be a jerk to me and then decide he's done with that, and I should just be okay.

So before I left, everyone was teasing me, as we do in our group. Mistah Jay wanted to participate.

"Hey, Tai!"
*ignore*
"Taaaai."
*ignore*
"TAAAAAAI. TAI! Taaaaaaima."
*ignore*
"I'll break your legs so you can't go to class!"

...Really? Okay. Whatever. At least I won't have to see him until Tuesday. I came back from class a little early, and realized that my lappity toppity box wasn't recognizing that USB cables were plugged in. I was messing with it when Mistah Jay came in.

"Oh! What's wrong?"
"A thing broke."
"What thing?"
"A port."
"I can fix it, let me see, hon." he was standing so close to me, so I could smell him. His cheek was right next to mine. I was so tempted to lean into him.
"No, thanks! I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
"FINE! I JUST THOUGHT I'D ASK!" he stomped back over to his half of the table.

I was rude. I own that. I was rude because what am I supposed to do? Just be perfectly fine when he decides it's time to be fine? I think he probably realized I was upset with him and felt bad. But he didn't apologize.

I finally went into the bathroom to cry while a couple friends tried to fix it. I'd had enough of this week.

I came back and turned the laptop off and on, and everything was fine. But one kid who doesn't come around a lot and is a dick went; "I stuck my dick in them!"
"Well, they're USB ports, and not micro USB ports..."
"Oh, I see what you did there." everyone laughed. Joke over, right? Nope. "Just so you know, you come off as a bitch."
"I know."
"You come off REALLY mean."
"I KNOW."
"Everyone thinks that about you."
"I DIDN'T ASK FOR YOU GODDAMN OPINION."
"Well we have free speech so I can say whatever I want."

Really dude? Mistah Jay looked at him and just shook his head, and the kid stopped talking. I left without saying goodbye. He looked heartbroken when I left.

I'm irritated. Why is it okay for him to just DECIDE when we can be close. If he didn't want to be touched, he didn't have to be an ass. And he wasn't just having a bad day, you know? It was more that he JUST treats me like that and he JUST does things that upset me.

One of my friends, Nandi, thinks that I should just "forget about him" and move on. It isn't that easy. If that was easy, I would have done it. I wouldn't be this hurt by the things that he does to me.

In BETTER news, yesterday I was out with my friend Something Mysterious and... I totally pierced my belly button. It hurts but makes me feel AWESOME.

Still Not Getting Anywhere

I'm taking Sociology this semester.

Today, we were speaking about socialization, or rather, what brings us into a society. The topic quickly got on how "my generation" (and potentially yours too, I'm completely unaware of the age group of people who stumbled across this and read it) would be the first one to know less than our parents.

My instructor said that a bunch of educators would go online and argue about this. It is, of course, a complete load of bullshit. Anyone in this day and age who is unedcuated is that way because they want to be. Education does NOT just take place at an instituion. You know where I've done most of my learning?

On my fucking couch, with either a book I borrowed from the library or my laptop. I Googled something because, gaspshock, I wanted to know about it! I got a book because I wanted to read about this. And you know what else? Most of the people I know--they do that too!

What a surprise! You don't have to pay two thousand dollars a semester to learn something. I know, I know. It was a weird idea for me too.

Here's the thing; no one I know had the OPTION of going to college. It wasn't "Are you going?" The question was; "Where are you going to college?" Even for my friends who are first generation college goers were pushed and told that education was a big deal.

Sadly, many of them, Mistah Jay included, didn't have unending support from their families. Most of us struggle on our own. We fill out paperwork, we take out loans. I'm twenty one years old, I've never had a credit card, and I'm already six thousand dollars in debt. Let that sink in. All but a thousand dollars of that is on my own shoulders because of school. (The other thousand was the surgery I needed last year for my broken foot. It was walking without a limp, or pay the money. She Who Must Be Kept and I decided walking was important.)

I'm STILL NOT GETTING ANYWHERE. I've been in colege for years and I'm not closer now to being more educated, to being smarter, to having a better life than I was then. I still sleep on my mother's couch. I still don't drive. I still have nothing but debt and a pile of unpublished manuscripts.

One could, of course, argue that this is my own fault. And it is. Because I'm in school. My school schedule does NOT allow for a job. Not with the option of sleeping.

Then the instructor talked about why fewer minorities go to school. He must have missed the luncheon last semester where our dean or president or someone in power who has since disappeared and only is heard of in the monthly newspaper that gets sent to my house said that we are at an ALL TIME HIGH for minority enrollment.

Then he got mad because I said it happens to white people too. In my own family. I'm the only one in college. Minus my cousin who has a baby and keeps dropping out because, you know, SHE HAS A FUCKING BABY. I lost the class when I admitted that I'm white trash.

It is not ANY harder for minorities to go school than it is white people, I don't think. They have tons of scholarships and the options for loans and they get accepted because colleges now have some kind of quota to fill for minorities. Really! It happened at U of M a couple years ago. Everyone took a test, and if you were a minority, you got X amount of extra points.

I've been to classes with PLENTY OF MINORITY KIDS. I'm friends with some of them! You know, it never crossed my mind that they were a minority and I was not. Is that a sign of the times? That I don't look at them and go; "Must be hard for you to be here because of the color of your skin!" I know lots of minority kids who pushed them to go to school because they wanted them to have an education, actually. Just like I know a lot of non minority kids whose parents did the SAME THING.

Actually, I look at EVERYONE and think it must be hard for ALL of them to be here. It's hard to make yourself get up, go to class, do the homework, take notes, show up for exams. All of us face that struggle. Every. Last. One.

It just hurts my feelings because you know, I'm struggling to be here. The instructor then talked about kids not wanting to be here. Yeah, I've been pushing myself taking between thriteen and eighteen credit hours every semester because I don't wanna be here. I've pushed myself to such a state of exhaust and misery that my doctor said; "Don't do this again, you're making yourself sick. This is really hurting you." Because I DON'T WANNA BE HERE!

However did he see through my clever ruse of attendance to know that?

He then stated he wished we'd all eave and come back when we're thirty five. Because then we'd be more motivated.

...Piss off. Seriously dude. PISS OFF. I AM MOTIVATED! If I wasn't motivated I wouldn't show up with a fever and a sinus infection. I wouldn't go on the days when my seasonal affective disorder bothers me and it makes me want to cry to get out of bed. I wouldn't talk, take notes, I wouldn't even be there.

We are ALL motivated because we're THERE. And we're motivated because we don't want to be like the thirty five year olds who didn't go to college the first time around because they got a factory job.

We're there because WE KNOW BETTER.

And for that matter all those "motivated thirty five year olds" I know are rude, selfish, and self entitled. Know why? Because they think they deserve a fucking prize for going back to college. Because it's sooooo much more difficult for them. No, you can piss off too. Like I said, we're all struggling to be here, and yours isn't any deeper than my own.

I'm sure this post will have a contiunation later. I'm still raging. I love the class and the Professor. And I get what he was driving at here, but I don't feel like he had the proper way of going about it.

Interpersonal Dumbassery

I got this assignment from my Interpersonal Communication teacher. (Because we all know how much I looooove that class, right?)

I have to go and violate social norms. What does this mean? It basically means be a creeper and do something to make someone else uncomfortable.

And all I can think is; don't I do that on a daily basis? I mean, not intentionally, but just because I ignore social norms? Am I not doing that by even keeping this blog? I have to say this blog is pretty personal and I've posted some things that I haven't even told some of my close friends. (Most of my friends, I think, I don't even know it exists. Not because I don't want to share, but simply because they know about the VAST majority of it.)

But really. I go to the store in pajamas. I dance to my mp3 player in the store. I stare at people in the elevator. Not because I'm rude, but because I like their shoes. I touch people when I've bumped into them. I say things like; "Your hair is so pretty! That's a cute dress. I loooove your necklace."

These are things that people don't do. It violates the social norm.

But honestly, I think the social norm is kind of a load of bullshit. Why can't I just say that to people? Why can't I wear my pajamas? Why can't I sing and dance? Because someone else is bothered? Well someone else can just go to hell.

I should probably write my paper about that, in retrospect.

So Close, I Could Taste It

I got my biology score back. I was .8 away from having a 2.0 Dr. Fox said it is much easier to climb for a 2.0 to a 3.5, which is what I need. I DO have hope, but I'm going to have to work my ass off.

I am willing to do that.

I'm just so FRUSTRATED at myself. There was NOTHING on that test I didn't know. But I panicked. I panicked because I had forty five seconds at each bone station, which is enough time to second guess yourself and erase and rewrite and circle and scribble and hyperventilate.

I mean, I forgot what a SCAPULA is. HOW COULD I DO THAT? THAT IS STUPIDLY SIMPLE! There was just so much information in my head that I just--blanked out. And while it is something that happens to everyone, it's not something that I can afford.

My instructor has admitted that they make this class so hard because there are so many people going into the medical field. You don't want people who don't know what they're doing working on you. (Herp derp.) I can really get behind this because so many people are going into nursing now because; "You make good money." Not because they want to work with people, not because they want to put forth the effort. They want money. I can kind of see that, but medical care is the wrong field to have this mentality.

This is a weed out class, and so is Medical Terminology. All this work is supposed to scare away the people who don't need to be there. Sadly, the people who are smart enough and just--panicked, need more time, whatever... Well, we're kind of screwed too.

I have come up with a new study plan, including a study group (whoo!) and spreading out my studying instead of doing it all the week of the test. I'm hoping that would help. I hate first tests anyway, you can never tell how an instructor is going to grade. I've had some go through with a red pen like they were getting their jollies on by marking you wrong. And I've had some struggle every which way to get you the grade that you need.

You can never tell what one will be. Biology (and Medical Terminology, for that matter) has a really strict way to grade so it's a level playing field for all the applicants going into one of the medical studies programs. I'm just hoping and praying and doing my best to make it into mine.

I don't have a back up plan at this point. I should probably get on that.

In other, happier news, I've thirty six dollars closer to going to Finland when I do finish school. Hurray!

If You Can't Say Anything Nice

I've expressed before my sheer displeasure about my Interpersonal Communications class. It's gotten worse. I didn't think that was possible. Boy howdy, was I wrong.

I sit in the back of the room. I like to have my back to the wall. I also like to sit up towards the front so I can hear/see better. I like to take off my glasses sometimes, and if I'm up front, I can still see the board! It doesn't matter in this class, the instructor wanders around a bit, and doesn't use the board that often.

So I sit in the back, and we're in one of those three quarter boxes with the tables. So I'm ALMOST in a corner, but not quite. On one side is a pretty nice girl, she sits quietly, takes her notes, and doesn't mind when my stuff flows onto her side of the desk. (I don't let that happen often, just when I'm digging through my bag for something.)

On my other side, in the Corner of Cattiness, there sit three stereotypes. The OHMYGOD,I'MALTERNATIVEANDANARTIST!!!! girl, the IWASANATHLETEINHIGHSCHOOL,THATMAKES MERELEVANTINCOLLEGE,RIGHT!?!?!? girl, and I'MAMOMSOEVERYTHINGISAYISWIIIIIIIIIIISE girl. They make me want to stab myself in the eye.

To be clear, I don't want to smash my head into the cinder blocks behind me just because they're like that. That is perfectly fine with me. What is not fine is they sit and make snide comments about everything anyone says ever. Through the whole class. To the point where I can hear their attitude over the lecture.

And you know, I think it's fine they have their little opinions about what people say. My problem is they are NEVER positive, and they are NEVER kind. (Because you can not like what someone says and still be kind about it.) And it goes on all. Class. Long. That is an hour and a half of hearing these little remarks.

"Look at that guy, he looks like a banana!" "Don't hurt yourself, (in reference to a boy saying he had been thinking about something)" "I hope we don't get ANYONE from that group in OUR group when we have our final project." "Goood, they don't shut uuuuuuuuup, do they?"

I gave some glares a couple times and rolled my eyes at them. Their negativity really brings me down. I have even had to use my palm as a blinder to not get visually distracted by them.

Look, I don't care they come to class and don't listen. I don't either. I don't care that they've made friends with each other. Awesome, if that's what you come to class for, I'm glad you met your goal. I don't care that they don't seem to like anyone else. I care that they are distracting me and creating a hostile learning environment for everyone else.

Bitches.

These Are the Moments

I had to take my Interpersonal Communications test last week. I hate that class. It's basically Feelings 101 sprinkled with some GAMES! Because everyone likes to play games, right?

No. I don't. I don't want to go to class and play Jeopardy, or one half of the room vs. the other half to see who gets more questions or Hangman or anything else. I want to go, read the text book, get the lecture, take my notes, and leave. I understand that not everyone can learn this way. It's just really annoying for the people who do, because every time we start in on this, I watch the clock and think how much of my life I'm wasting.

I do tend to journal a lot in that class. It's quite soothing, and I've found myself writing more and more. I think that's a good thing. I feel like I'm breaking a curse.

Anyway, even though I'm just shooting for a two point in that class, I got a ninety on my test! (This teacher, by the way said that not all cultures value interpersonal communication, no one in the world listens critically, and keeps mixing up low and high context culture so no one REALLY knows what she means. Awesome!) I'm really just daring to be mediocre, because this is an ADO and not required for my program. Meaning every hour I spend studying this bull shit is an hour I'm not putting into a hard class that matters.

I did get my second Medical Terminology test back. One hundred percent! Hell yeah! I almost danced with glee. That was just too much awesome. The lowest two get dropped, and so far I'm at 84 and 100. This test was harder as I only read the chapter three times instead of four. The lowest two get dropped, though.

So, here I am, with one more hurdle this week; the biology test. 100 multiple choice questions and seven (maybe?) stations for the lab practical, with forty five seconds at each station, and then three minutes after to go around and second guess yourself! Faaaabulous.

Dr. FireFox (not his real name) let us ask questions last class about the test. "Hey guys?" he said. "I know this is coming as a shock to you, but I really WON'T read your tests and go; fuck you, fuck you fuck you fuck you... I WANT you to do well! I'll give you ever point I can!"

I'm still nervous as hell. He does grade on a curve though. Here's to hoping studying helps. :/

The Space Between (Which Doesn't Exist)

I'm writing this in the "cyber cafe" of my college cafeteria. I put that in quotes, because that is a very imaginative term. I am sitting in a dusty, half forgotten closet with too many windows and too few chairs. There are always more computers than there are chairs, but this is really okay. Because we have those broke down office chairs that will spin you half way across the room if you try and scootch over a bit.

The computers are currently running on dreams and duct tape. The ones we have in the "information commons" (read: library. Only without too many books. When, I wonder, did books become obsolete?) are ever so much nicer, as well they should be with that five hundred dollar tuition hike.

However, you can never really get a computer in the libr--information commons. This because everyone uses it for that all important learning tool known as Facebook. Never mind that you are standing there, tapping your foot and checking you watch, counting the minutes until you have to be in class and you HAVE to print out this report. Farmville is so much more important than class. Playing about a hundred bucks an hour for Farmville, now that's where it's at.

So I'm sitting using the crappy computers for my blogging, because that's a much more appropriate use, I think. Yes, I am getting up on my high horse. I don't care.

And I have to say--I HATE ALL THESE PEOPLE HERE. There is no space. People often come up and peer in these too big windows.

I can never get anything productive done.

A Run of Days

The one thing I hate about going back to school (other than the sheer amount of asshatery that my administration continues to perpetuate) is getting up.

Typically, I get up at six in the morning so I can be up at my bus stop at six forty five. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to get ready, but this way I have extra time if I can't find my socks or if I want to make some toast.

I sit at the bus stop for ten minutes, get on the bus downtown, wait another ten minutes to get on the bus to school, and I am there about about seven thirty. I then study, get on Facebook, and hang out with friends until eleven o clock when my class starts.

I hate getting up early. I hate that the bus to school is always crowded. It really bugs the shit out of me. I can't stand people being near me that early in the morning. If I get up at seven, I can take the eight twenty bus in. The bus is only marginally less crowded though. Argh.

I also tend to lose track of days. She Who Must Be Kept woke me up on her way out to tell me I could go and lay on the big couch, then asked me if I was staying home today.

"WHY?!?! What day is it?!?!"
"Wednesday."
"Oh. No classes. Then yes. I am staying here." And I flopped back to sleep.

I need to keep better track of myself.

"You have GOT to be kidding me!"

So we all remember the issues I've been having purchasing my books. No, I still don't have my loans (this week or next week. Supposedly. What they're waiting for is the money from the federal government to got through, but THEY want to wait until October because that's a new fiscal year. Don't ask me why I know this) but I had one more book I needed if I had any intention of passing the class.

It's a dumb class, but it's one of those stupid ADO--associate degree outcomes. Everyone who intends to walk out of my college with a degree has to satisfy certain requirements. A communications class is one of them. Because I TOTALLY didn't take two in high school, TOTALLY haven't had years of therapy or anything. I know nothing about communication.

Anyway, my other friend that had lent me the money for my biology books--a class which is not bullshit--couldn't loan me more for my book RENTAL. That's right, some places will RENT college books! They cost a fraction of the price, you just can't write in them and don't sell them back.

Well, I had ANOTHER friend offer to loan me the twenty six bucks for the book. $26 for a college book? What a bargain, what a deal!

I got done with my four and a half hours of classes, which only happens because of my college's computer error that resulted in dropped classes so I had to scramble to get what I could, I went to stand in the bookstore. For twenty minutes. Just standing in line.

I dutifully asked if I could rent this book. "Sure," said the girl. "Have you registered for it?"

"Um, no. I'm afraid not. No one's ever told me I had to."

"Oh, it's okay. I need your liscense or picture state ID. And a valid credit card."

"I don't have one." I'm twenty with no reliable income, why would I have one.

"Debit card?"

"...No."

"Then no book rental! Would you like to purchase it?" Fuck. No.

"Hey, it would have been AWESOME to read that on the website or actually have it posted somewhere before I waste my whole day in here." I snapped and marched out. I informed my friends of the issue, and then e-mailed She Who Must Be Kept.

It's Tuesday and SWMBK is already having a bad week. This is not a good time to mess with her.

She was on the phone so fast, it would make your head spin. Here's the thing, on my school's bookstore's website; it doesn't state the conditions of rentals. Strike one. In the add they took out in my city's newspaper, they didn't mention it either. Strike two. You had to go to a completely different website, click through two pages, and THEN find it halfway to the bottom in small print. Strike three.

SWMBK told the woman she's not ignorant, we've already got a letter sent to the Dean (which is going to be resent Monday if I don't hear from her by the end of the week. Then sent to my city's newspaper. We'll see how fast things get done then?) and it would actually be pretty easy to add a note about how unhappy we are about this.

She started getting huffy with SWMBK, who snapped at her that if she ran her business right, this wouldn't happen. And she was WORKING, so she didn't have time to argue with her anymore. She then hung up.

I still don't have a book. :/ We're scrambling to find a credit card, or someone with one who will buy the book for me.

A Letter to The Dean

I've had nothing but trouble this semester. So I wrote the following letter to my Dean of Student Services.

(Names changed because this is the internet.)

Dear Ms. S*****,

This is my fourth semester at J****** Community College. Previous to that, I was a student at The d* ***** Institute for four years. In short, I am no stranger to the campus, the instructors, or the other students.

I regret to tell you of my deep disdain, dissatisfaction, and disillusionment for and with the college and my own education.

Let me start at the beginning, shall I?

I have been fighting tooth and nail for over a month to get my financial aid approved. I submitted my paperwork for my Pell Grant in a timely manner. However, it was cut through a paperwork error. All well and good, I thought, even though if I had been informed say, a month or so earlier, perhaps I could have put in for a loan in a better time frame.

Then I had to hound my financial adviser to get make sure my Pell Grant even went through. I needed desperately to know about it, because I am an underemployed single woman. I still live with my mother, and she simply has no money to give me for college.

I applied for my loan, and have been hounding and harping to make sure that went through. Naturally, the website, the JCC website didn't seem to accept my information the first time, an unfortunate event I am all too familiar with. Two days later I got an e-mail saying all my information was not received. I gave it again.

I was then told it would take four weeks to be approved. I am on the fourth week. Another request on the status told me another two weeks. This is highly unacceptable. Why, you may ask? I simply cannot afford the books required for my courses. Without books, I cannot succeed. I cannot study, I cannot ask questions, I cannot understand the material.

A young woman in Student Services asked me if I could get the money elsewhere. No, I cannot. It does not exist anywhere else. I had been told that previously, the college did book loans in case of something like this. And now, they do not. This is leaving students (I can think of another young lady off the top of my head) high and dry and crying and frantic. This is not fostering a good learning environment in any shape of the word.

When I asked her, frankly, what was I supposed to do, she just shrugged at me. That was very helpful, let me tell you.

Honesty, I can think of three other students who have had something happen to their finanical aid which put them in a very bad position. One of those students had to drop out of this semester. He is now going to be put back at least a semester in getting his degree.

A semester doesn't seem like a long time; but it is. That's another semester that he can't be out in the real world. That's another semester of student loans. That's another semester being here instead of at another university earning the degree he's thirsting for.

I, being that I don't even have my loans through yet, went down to Student Services to at least get a bus pass. What is this new policy? They are not given to students who get finanical aid? Because we can pay for them ourselves? I don't know about anyone else, but I am outraged. If I am getting grants, it is because I don't have enough money to go to school on my own. It is because I need every cent worth of help I can get. And instead of being helped by the college, I am once again getting told to find the money on my own. This is ridiculous. I cannot even begin to see where the logic in this is.

We've been told since we were in kindergarten that we need this higher education. That we have to-have to-have to go to college. And now that we're here, we're getting thrown down, denied and shrugged at. The main buzz around campus is; "JCC screwed everyone over this semester." I know this is not the kind of college you are striving to maintain.

Maybe this letter means nothing to you. But to me, it's everything. My education, my future is everything to me. It's everything to my past instructors, who tried so hard to get me here. It is everything to my high school teachers, who worked with my daily to try and prepare me for this. And most of all, it is everything to my mother, who raised me and prays for me every night that I can live a better life than she does.

-with all respect

R****** *** *******

Yes, my birthname starts with an 'R'.

But I Do Have Moments of Good Luck

I went to go and buy my books today for college. My loan hadn't been approved, but I found out about that magical thing most schools do called BOOK LOANS. And wonder of wonders, my school was supposed to do it! Well, hallelujah sang the angels, my life is spared. Spared, I tell you!

Except they don't do it anymore. Because "It wasn't working out for us." Which basically translates to how much they hate forking over money if they don't haaaaave to, and according to them, they never have to. My loan, which I wouldn't have had to take out if they did anything with any kind of expediency, will be approved in two weeks. Keep in mind just about every other school in the world will look and see you have loans coming in, let you go to the book store, sign three forms, and get your books. But not JCC!

"Can't you go without books for two weeks? That isn't that long."

...Can I go to two weeks without books? No. No I cannot. The book I need is for biology, and my lectures are all online. So if I go to read my lessons without the book, I will silently wonder what the fuck is going on. I don't think my instructor would tell me this was REQUIRED READING if I could do without it, being that it is biology and not, say, English. I have a great instructor this semester (at least I've heard he's great. Strict, but great) who doesn't want you to have to be loaded down with bullshit books.

So now I have to take a loan from my friend for two hundred books, which I am loathe to do. I mean, I'm twenty years old, I shouldn't be borrowing this amount. Five dollars for lunch, maybe. But two hundo? Not so much.

She Who Must Be Kept can't give me a damn thing, and I can't even be mad at her for it. I was supposed to have money, and money was too tight this summer to really even begin to save a penny. This is really frustrating because I do have the money, just not in my palm where it needs to be, you know?

So now I got to cry in front of all my friends on my first day of seeing them again after a three month separation (for most of them). That was lovely. "Hi Tai, how are you doing?" *SOB!* But hey, I have to have the book.

I do have moments of good luck, though. I was hanging up my phone to charge. I string the cable up through the handle of my cabinet and let my phone rest on the handle so it doesn't fall in the sink or get knocked down.

I dropped my phone. I was ready to lay down and die, because there was a bowl of water in the sink. Happily, my phone JUST landed in an EMPTY cup. It was possible the best thing I'd seen all day.

I'm also spoiled, because the same friend who is lending me the money took me to FYE today. I saw a TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES WALLET!!!! ON CLEARANCE FOR SEVEN FIFTY DOWN FROM SEVENTEEN! I have no money, but he bought it for me because apparently my whole face lit up.

And my other friend bought me CKY, which is Bam before Jackass, and a collection of HIM music videos, AND the new Black Veil Brides CD! Well, thanks! I AM paying him back when my freelance job pays me. Awesome, right?

In the Heat of the Summer Sunshine

The summer is almost over.

It's strange; when I was small this season seemed to stretch on endlessly. Even when I switched to a school that only gave roughly six weeks for vacation as opposed to the nine everyone else got, it felt like forever.

This is the summer that was terribly short. I don't think I mind that so much. I'm tired of the heat, of the sound of fans blowing constantly. I'm tired of walking somewhere and having the back of my hair get all sweaty and sticky. I'm rather eager for some cool night and the smell of fall.

I don't think I'm looking forward to school. I set up my schedule so I only have to be on campus two days a week. (This frees up time for my freelancing, my homework, and adjusting my sleep schedule.) But I usually go all four days, just so that I can make use of the tutoring center and the internet, and yes; see my friends.

But I won't miss this sunshine.

Please Don't Take A Picture

As I've previously mentioned, I currently live in the house belonging to She Who Must Be Kept (you know, my mother?). This has been precarious at the worst of times, and fine at the best. Which I've always come to consider interesting.

The reasons I live with SWMBK are as follows;
-I don't have a license. I could never afford to get one. Even if I could, we could never afford a car for me, and SWMBK works forty five minutes from where we live.
-I don't have a job. I couldn't afford to pay rent on a place in any case.
-I go to school full time and get free Internet at my house.

In the past three years, I've had two of my brother's boyfriends living with us, been kicked out of my bedroom, been sleeping on the couch, been working my ass off in college, been thrown down the stairs, had all my things thrown out, had my bedroom trashed...

Yeah, seriously.

I am reaching a point where I just don't want to live here anymore. I'm tired of sleeping on a love seat (since I was seventeen. I'll be twenty one in October). I'm tired of everyone my brother asks to live with us getting a free pass, but I still can't have a bed. I'm tired of my things being broken, thrown around, stepped on, and generally trashed ("But if you'd put them away!!!" "...Where is 'away', exactly? I have about four feet of space in this house that's mine.") .

Also, you have to understand the dynamic of my family. My mother is mentally ill, my brother is mentally unstable, there's a big difference that I won't go into right now, and I myself suffer from seasonal affective disorder. I do pretty well in the summer time, but winters get hellish.

"But Taima! Why can't you have a bedroom?" A good question you might ask. Because my brother's ex boyfriend got angry when he wasn't allowed to live in it, he filled it waist deep in garbage. I don't mean like, stuff and junk. I mean honest to God garbage. So my friend and my own ex boyfriend had to come and help me clean it up.

By the time that got done, our ancient ceiling caved in. So every time it rained, water would leak into my room, so a lot more of my stuff got ruined, including my bed. The water wrecked the wiring. So there's no electricity in that room.

At least, this is the reason She Who Must Be Kept has given me. I'm not stupid, and the real reason is; She likes having someone sleeping downstairs with her. She knows if I move back upstairs and our Noise Rule goes back into law, my brother will turn a temper tantrum. She likes having me around to get her drinks, change the channel, answer the phone, take her bowl into the sink, blahdy blahdy blah.

I just want a bed. I just want my own space. I just want to have a conversation on my phone and not have to sit in the bathroom or on a porch. I can't really have them in the living room because She Who Must Be Kept will interrupt every fifteen seconds to ask who I'm talking to, what are we talking about, and try to chime in.

So today, my financial aid went through. Only it was slashed by a thousand dollars, which is a pretty sizable difference. I am now left with enough to pay my tuition, but not enough for books or supplies. When She Who Must Be Kept called me to tell me this, she yelled at me for crying.

And then figured out that it was my fault, because I filled out the FAFSA, using the numbers she gave me. Which I read back to her twice. But okay, yeah, my fault. Only now she seems to be harboring a grudge. Every time I ask her a question, I get yelled at. Is my brother home? YES! Did she have a good day at work? WHATEVER! IT WAS FINE! I quit talking, and then I get accused of sulking.

Winning; I just can't do it.

I'm going to school for a career I'm not even sure is for me. I'm paying money and going to classes for something I'm not really thinking I should be doing. I'm living in a house I can't stand, with people that are slowly devouring my soul.

I don't own much anymore. Two Rubbermaid totes of laundry, a pair of sneakers, a pair of boots, a pair of sandals, perhaps two boxes of books. Maybe another bag of stuffed toys... I could move everything I own in one car load...

Unschooling? What the Hell?

I recently heard of this thing called "unschooling".

So basically, how it works is--the kids don't go to school. I don't mean that they're homeschooled. I mean that they aren't formally educated.

"Now wait a minute!" I can hear you shouting. "Just wait a minute! A child doesn't NEED a formal education!"

And I agree with you. Really, I do. I don't think that EVERY child in the world needs to get up at six fifty, bolt down a Pop-Tart, drag themselves to the bus stop, ride to school, and sit at a desk from eight thirty to three thirty every day. I agree with you wholeheartedly that in and of itself, a formal education in that sense isn't the best idea for every child in the world.

But I also cannot believe that there are some people in the world who get up and say; "Know what? My child can learn perfectly well on their own."

The families that I have heard of that employ this method of education have no alarm clocks, had no bedtimes, typically allow their children to decide what's for dinner, and don't even make this children sit down to their workbooks to learn anything.

"They pursue what they're interested in! It works fabulously!" the mother's coo while the camera crew pans the house. The kids are bouncing off the walls, sitting up past midnight, eating cookies and fruit punch, and lolling on the floor babbling to themselves.

There are a good amount of them who can read, write, and do some simple math. But all I can think is; "What if they want more? How in the world are they going to support themselves?"

Maybe it's because I'm American, or maybe it's because I grew up dirt ass broke, but I don't understand how the vast majority of the population will be able to find employment that will, you know, make sure they can eat more than a packet of Ramen a day with a glass of tap water.

Yum yum.

And you know, I can see this working for older children. I went to school (which was a nontraditional school in and of itself) with some children who just did not do well in that sort of environment. They did better off on their own, studying at their own pace and reading what they wanted to....

But even they were homeschooled.

I mean, school doesn't just teach you how to count, how to read, or what year Chris Columbus sailed. School also teaches you how to get along with other kids, listen to instructions, sit still for more than twenty five seconds at a time, how to follow a schedule.

And these are tools that are needed in adult life! Does anyone else remember that one really awkward kid in school who was constantly interrupting? Do you remember how much you hated that kid? For the most part, I don't see unschooled kids being too much better. I mean, you can give me the whole "Weeeeeell, plaaaaaaygroooooups," line all you want. But when you get down to it, I really do think children need to learn how to function amongst their peers on their own.

Not that I like the minimal supervision that goes on in most schools, either. Go, go budget cuts. -.-