The Gratitude Challenge: Week 23 and 24

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Seeing as this is week 27 of the year 2015, I am a bit behind on the challenge. Part of that is the fact that I have been too tired to sit down and write, and part of it is that between the trip to Spain (which I still have yet to give proper time too), the move to Scotland, and my neverending visa issues, I do not have enough hours in the day to get everything done.

or, maybe I don’t want to.

Week 23 is dedicated to my favorite physical trait. A couple of years ago, I would have said my abs. Now, after all the stress of the program, the move, and all the change in my life, the abs are in hiding. To be honest, I would have to say that my smile is my favorite physical trait. Thanks to my mom and a really good orthodontist, I have nice straight teeth, and thanks to whitening toothpaste, they sparkle. I’m often told how great and white my teeth are, and on a flight from Germany to Estonia, a Russian man named Alexander asked me if I lasered my teeth. It took me awhile to figure out what he meant from that, but he was asking if I had my teeth professionally whitened. It made me laugh. The second thing that I like about my smile is that it brings out the dimple in my cheek. When I was a kid, that was one way that people could tell me from the wombmate, and now, I think it gives me a childlike quality that I love.

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Week 24 is a book I learned from. Being that I am a nerd and have read hundreds, if not 1,000 books, it is hard to think of just one that I have learned from. From a personal standpoint, there are so many that I am not sure that I could just pick one, but from a teaching and learning point of view, there is one book that has guided not only much of the writing and research I have done, but also helped guide me towards the type of educator that I want to be. That books is The Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire. Here, a very talented author and scholar (a.k.a., me) sums up the book:

First published in Portuguese in 1968, Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed has become one of the most valuable texts in philosophy of education classes. The first English translation was published in 1970 and has seen several reprints and updated editions. Freire’s book is a scathing critique of the traditional top-down teaching methods where ‘instead of communicating, the teacher issues communiqués and makes deposits which the students patiently receive, memorize and repeat’ (72). This ‘banking model of education’ (Freire 2000: 70) is thus used as a tool of oppression where the teachers have all of the power, and students are nothing more than empty vessels waiting to be filled. Freire was deeply inspired by the philosophy and works of Karl Marx and Franz Fanon, and predicated his own work on the notion that revolutionary educators were needed in order to help students become functional human beings who think critically, question the world around them, and act on their own free will in order to fight oppression and injustice. For him, true liberation, then, comes from the ability to inquire about, reflect on, be conscious of, and most importantly, to act on the world around you in order to transform it (Freire 2000: 79). For Freire, ‘knowledge emerges only through the invention and re-invention, through the restless, impatient, continuing, hopeful inquiry human beings pursue in the world, and with each other’ (Freire 2000: 72). It is up to the educator to help their students become critical beings by first seeing them as capable of higher level thinking than as equals in the process of learning, and then the teacher must trust that the students will use the skills and power they gain from this learning environment.

This book is something that I have read over and over and over again. I did not really understand what it was saying the first time I read it, but now I feel like I am an expert in liberatory teaching practices. I also feel like I have a better understanding of what it means to be a fair and just educator from having read this book. When I was in the midst of Cal State Fullerton, I had a choice to make. I could have played the game, pretended to be racist, and let the awful people in the program “fix” me, or I could stand up for what I believe in, and discuss the obvious injustice of the race that the program viewed race. This book has taught me a lot about how I can recognize those that need a voice, and how I can use my position of privilege to help those in need. As I get ready to embark on my final degree, and then a career of curriculum development, I know that this book will have a place of honor on my shelf.  I’m going to use his words to change the face of higher education one program at a time.

The Scamp Scales the Monument

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I’m still having visa issues, and still not settled in Scotland, so I decided that today I would be a little bit of a tourist and visit some of my favorite places in Scotland. One of the things that I always wanted to do was climb to the top of the Sir Walter Scott Monument.

According to the Scott Monument website:

Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh on the 15th August 1771, in a tenement flat at the head of College Wynd in the Old Town. He was the ninth of twelve children, of whom the first six died in infancy. His father was a ‘Writer to the Signet’ (solicitor) and a sober and strict Calvinist. His mother Anne Rutherford was the daughter of a professor of Medicine at Edinburgh University. Both parents were from old Borders families, whose histories inspired Scott’s later literary work.

He developed polio as an infant, and was sent to his grandparents’ farm at Sandyknowe in the Borders to recuperate. The farm is situated beside Smailholm Tower, an inspiring medieval fortified house on a dramatic rocky knoll. Various remedies were attempted to cure his infirmity, including a year in Bath ‘taking the waters’ to no avail – he had a limp and periods of illness throughout the rest of his life.

In 1779 he went to the Royal High School of Edinburgh and became a good Latin scholar. He retained an interest in languages and taught himself Italian, Spanish and French while at University from 1783, and later translated ballad’s and play’s of Burger and Goethe from German. He studied law and was called to the Bar as an Advocate (Barrister) in 1792.

From his early days Walter Scott was popular and at ease in society. He met Robert Burns ‘the boast of Scotland’ when he was fifteen years old, and later became friends with many famous people.

He was highly regarded by fellow poets James Hogg and William Wordsworth, and artists like William Allan and Henry Raeburn painted portraits of him. Scott met the Duke of Wellington in France while researching ‘Life of Napoleon’, which Goethe praised highly, and he was also respected and equally friendly with his servants, such as Tom Purdie.

The monument was built in 1840, stands 200 feet 6 inches high, and with no lift, takes 287 steps to get to the top. It was quite crowded today, but I decided that I could use some good views of the city, so I made the trek to the top.

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Unfortunately, by the time I made it to the top, there were so many people on the platform that I was too afraid to take my camera out and take pictures. I was also too afraid to take chicken out as well. I’m really glad I climbed all the way up though because the views reminded me of why I love the city so much, and why I packed up my life in California to come here. I know all of the visa work will settle itself, but it has been a constant stress, and a jumble of incorrect information.

I’m glad the weather held, and since the next month is going to be spent writing research questions, drafting ethics proposals, and getting my calendar set for my research, I may not get to see the outside again for awhile. After the conference in Birmingham, I have a lot of notes and info to sort through, and a lot connections to make. I surprised myself b how social I was, and how many really important connections that I made. There may just be a future for me in the field of Assessment Development.

The Scamp in Scotland

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…..kinda. I’m currently in Birmingham, England at a conference on assessment in higher education. I was supposed to attend the conference with my supervisor, but he hurt his back, and decided it was best if he stayed home. I’ve never been to Birmingham, but luckily the train station, hotel, and conference center are all less than ten minutes from each other. I’ve already decided which lectures I am attending, but now I have to network on my own, and eat dinner solo. I’m not good at those sorts of things. I am horribly antisocial, and I have a lot of work to do to make up for the things that I did not do whilst in Spain (I also have a lot of writing to do about my trip, but that will have to wait). It is also strange to be one of the youngest people here, and one of the few from the States. Already today someone told me that I have a fantastic accent, which is not something that I get to hear very often.

My first day back in Scotland was not a pleasant one until dinner time. I spent the whole day on campus meeting with my supervisors face-to-face, and trying to sort out what my schedule will look like for the next three years. I was unprepared for the fact that they see the research I am doing for the school, and my PhD as two separate projects, with two separate papers to be completed. I’ll be running data for 16 programs, complete with questionnaires, focus groups, and interviews, and from that, I will have to find a little bit of data to use for my PhD. On top of that, I am working on two projects with other professors in regards to gender and assessment, and social justice, equality, and assessment feedback. Each one of these would produce enough results for four separate dissertations, and I am slowly seeing my free time slipping away. On the upside, I have my own desk, a work phone, and really fantastic people supporting me. One of my supervisors took me to lunch and told me that she was the one I could call when I needed to vent, scream, or cry to, while the enthusiasm of the man in charge of me is completely contagious. I left the meeting with them excited, scared, and ready to get to work.

I wish I could say that they were a representation of the school. The rest of the day went downhill from there. The school refuses to reinstate the number I need for my visa, and after a trek to a campus 30 minutes walk from where I am based, I was informed that I am here illegally, and that they will not allow me to apply for the visa from the UK. This was said rather loudly, and in full range of all the other people working in the office, and it was all I could do not to cry in the office. I was so turned around when I left that I almost ended up on the wrong bus, and I walked into the wrong bank to try and make a deposit into my Scottish account (Note to self, The Royal Bank of Scotland and the Bank of Scotland are not the same). I had to use some fancy talk to get a new phone since I do not have a permanent address in Scotland yet, and I generally felt like I had been run ragged before I made it to dinner with one of my best friends.

Thank God for wine and good banter. Seeing Lozza after almost two years was fantastic. Meeting her fella was just as great as he is a wonderful guy, and she looks so stinkin’ happy with him. I was in fine form with the poor boy, but he was a great sport about it. I look forward to when I can cook them a proper Mexican feast, and more crazy catch-up sessions. It is nice to know that there is a friendly face in the crowd for bad days.

I now have a meeting with the international office to see about sorting me out with a visa, but I am not above crying and then going to the American consulate to get what I want. I know that things will work out, but I am just hoping that it is sooner rather than later, and that I don’t have to threaten bodily harm to make it happen.

The Scamp in the Jewish Quarter

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According to Sacred Destinations:

Córdoba’s old Jewish quarter (Juderia in Spanish) consists of a fascinating network of narrow lanes, more atmospheric and less commercialized than in Seville.

The Jews were established in Cordoba in Roman and Visigothic times. Under Arab rule after the 8th century, Jewish life and intellectualism flourished.

Hasfai Ibn Shaprut, a Jewish doctor, diplomat and scholar served under the Moorish rulers and attracted intellectuals to the court. His family’s subsequent wealth and power were major factors in the wealthy and vibrant Jewish community of Cordoba at that time.

Maimonides, the most famous Jewish philosopher and author of the Mishneh Torah, was born in Cordoba in 1125. A statue to his honor stands in Tiberiadus Square in the Juderia.

The entrance gate, La Puerta de Almodavar, has a statue of Seneca and forms part of the western boundary of the Juderia. The Juderia reaches as far as Calle El Rey Heredia to the northeast and the Mosque to the south.

The main attraction of the Juderia is Cordoba’s ancient synagogue, on Calle de los Judios (Street of the Jews). 

Today the Juderia is also known for its jewelry and silversmith shops.

Finally a place that I wanted to visit. The synagogue was a small building, and it is no longer in working order, but it was beautiful. Spain is not a place that loves the Jews. Before coming on the trip, we were warned about wearing our Star of David, and saying anything about being Jewish, and for the last ten days, I have seen nothing of the anti-Semitic attitude of Spain, but today I was able to see it a little bit. In Cordoba, there is just the one, and in Seville, all of the Jewish temples and synagogues have been turned into churches, convents, restaurants, and even a parking lot. The tour that we are on is full of people all over the world, but my mom and I are the only Jews. When we were on the walk with the group, they did not want to go to the Jewish quarter, and when we were there, they took pictures of all of the crosses that have been put up in the quarter. They did not appreciate the history, and the significance of the area, and when we  passed the statue of Hasfai Ibn Shaprut, the group made jokes about rubbing his feet to shine his shoes or win the lottery. Jewish people rub his feet for good health, and because he is a well respected member of the community.

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I have seen more churches and cathedrals than I care to count, and I have been nothing but respectful to the site. I am not a Christian or a Catholic, but I can admire the beautiful buildings, and the importance of each of the buildings to the people who embrace the religion. I do not make jokes, take pictures with the rubber chicken, or make fun of anyone who stops to pray at any of the alters. I was raised to respect other people and their beliefs and customs, whether I understood them or not. I was ready to scream today. I could not believe that these grown adults acted this way. My dad told me to let it go, but it really got me all riled up. I’m way behind in the detailing of this trip and all of the things that I have done, but this was one thing that I really really really wanted to do. I almost let these people ruin it for me.

This was the first time in 10 days that we had a chance to slow down a bit and really explore our surroundings. I loved Corduba and Seville, and was glad that we had an honest chance to take in the culture. I have been running nonstop since June 5th, and I have somehow managed to catch a horrible cold, and I am still trying to sort out the problems with the visa for my upcoming move to Scotland. I’m stressed, scared, in a lot of pain, and have to be on the move again in 12 hours. I’ve seen so many things that they all seem the same, and if it wasn’t for Google and the hundreds of pictures I have taken, I would have forgotten what I saw. We still have 7 days of rushing from city to city in Spain, and I am not sure I am going to make it if I have to see one more church on this trip.

But today we got lost in the city, and found something incredible. Today I got to see a little bit of the tortured Jewish people in this beautiful place.

The Scamp Cries in Portugal

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I’m on vacation. I should be writing about all of the wonderful things I am doing and seeing, but I got an email from the school in Scotland that they put a hold on my admittance because the visa was not completed. This comes after the government told me that I could apply for the visa from Scotland.

The worst part of this is that my supervisor emailed me to let me know….not the admittance office. Now, if I do not get it sorted out before the 21st, I will have to return to the States until I can get the visa sorted.

I cried in a hotel hallway today. The tour guide for the trip saw me, and my parental units tried to calm me down, but I am so frustrated with the process, and so frustrated with the fact that I have to do everything the hard way. I wanted the process to be easy. Now, I might have to cancel the conference booking, and a lot of my stuff is already on the way to Scotland as I type this. I’m a mess. A hot freaking mess. I do not want to be a mess. I want to be enjoying my vacation and writing about everything that is going on here.

I hate paperwork, and I hate bureaucracy.

The Scamp Abroad

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There is so much to say about being in Spain and Portugal, but for now, all I can say is my Spanish is better than I thought, and Portuguese is a very difficult language to understand.

I’ve seen so much and done some much in the last few days, that a short post before I am due at dinner will not cut it, but I have been finding it difficult to get any writing done at night. I’m so tired that I fall into bed and sleep like the dead until the wake-up call. I promise I will sit down and write about everything on the next bit of down time, but what I can say right now is that I am really happy to be out of the United States, and exploring a little bit more of Europe.

The Scamp at 300

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Congratulations! You are reading my 300th post. I think that it is very fitting that number 300 comes on my last night as a resident of the United States. This is the day I thought would never come. This is the day I have been trying to get to for two long years. This is the day that makes the emotionally abusive relationship worth it, the bullying, abuse, and eventual expulsion form CSUF worth it, and all of the therapy very very worth it. In the year and some change that it took me to get from 200 to 300, I learned so much about not only myself, but the world around me.

I learned that I no longer fit in in California. That was a hard lesson for me to learn. I spent almost a year trying really really hard to like it here and be happy, when it just isn’t who I am anymore. I have had some times here, and will carry some great memories with me, but this is no longer home. It took me almost another year to come to terms with it, and realize that it is okay that I no longer fit here. I always say that I am a Flamingo in a flock of pigeons. I use to say it to make people laugh, but I always saw it as a bad thing. I thought I should want to be a pigeon. I should want to be just like everyone else.

That is the dumbest thing I have ever admitted to the public (there have been a lot of things I have done, said, or thought that are really dumb, but a girl has to have some secrets). It has taken me a long time, but I am learning to embrace my inner flamingo. When I am in Scotland I can be a flamingo, and since I don’t know of another bird that can do yoga, I am going to rock the shit out of being a flamingo. That includes wearing colorful yoga pants, finishing my sleeve of colorful tattoos, and rocking flowers in my hair.

I learned that sometimes life sucks. I know that I will never see justice for what happened to me at CSUF, but that is how the real world works. Sometimes bad things happen to (mostly) good people. I will have to pay back the $30,000 in loans, and I will have nothing to show for it. My mom told me that everyone has bought a lemon, or invested in something that has failed, and that CSUF is my lemon. Pretty much everyone knows what happened to me now, and it still makes me mad, but I have to trust that there is a lesson in that experience that I will be able to use one day. I’m not 100% certain what that lesson is yet, but I have faith that it will become clear someday. I learned a lot about how to play the political game, how to stand up for myself and what I believe in, and that if you do not stick to your values then they are just hobbies.

I learned the power of therapy. I’m pretty sure therapy saved my life. Had I not had that available to me for the last year, I do not know if I would have survived the CSUF experience. Thursday mornings were my coping. I spent a lot of time trying to work through what was happening to me, and work out ways to cope with how I was feeling. My depression would have gotten a lot worse, had I not made the decision to get some real help. That program broke me. I spent much of this last year crying and hiding under my covers hoping that the storm would crash. My therapist helped me get out of bed, helped me not become an actual racist, and helped me realize that there was absolutely nothing wrong with my character. I used to think that therapy was something that I needed to hide, like it was a dirty little secret, but I have to say, I feel like a much stronger person than I was two years ago, and I think a part of that is because therapy kept me out of the dark and twisty.

I learned that I am willing to fight for the friendships and connections that matter. I’ve kept in touch with most of the people I was in Scotland with, and I am now seeing the long list of people here that are worth the effort to keep in contact with. I also feel like I am about to meet a whole bunch of new people, and those are the people that I will keep around for a long long time. I’m always worried about making friends because I am not really good at being social, but I am no longer worried about that. I know that I will become that obnoxious person who introduces myself to people, and before I know it, I will have sweet-talked my way into a lord’s heart and will get the castle wedding and the title that everyone here wants me to have (ok, I will get a puppy, talk to him, and pretend that is being social).

Most importantly, I learned that sometimes you need a fresh start to really become who you are supposed to be. Scotland is my fresh start. I never would have made it there if I had not gone through all the shit of the last two years. Scotland is my chance to really grow and become the person that I want to be (and the scenery, history, and people don’t hurt either). In three short years I will be Dr. Scamp, and in five short years I will be a permanent resident of the UK.

Most people say that it is bad luck to say “goodbye”, and that you should say “see you later.” They say that “goodbye” is permanent. Well, today, I would like to say goodbye to my life here, and to the person that I was. Tomorrow I start fresh being the badass flamingo that I am.

“I was trying to feel some kind of good-bye. I mean I’ve left schools and places I didn’t even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don’t care if it’s a sad good-bye or a bad good-bye, but when I leave a place I like to know I’m leaving it. If you don’t you feel even worse.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Adventure here I come.

The Scamp and a Puzzle

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My brother-in-law bought me a 3D crystal castle puzzle from Disneyland. The thing has 106 pieces, that are all clear plastic, and no instructions. The box says it is for children 12+.

Really, what they meant was the puzzle is for anyone who has 12+ years experience with architectural engineering, and can put together IKEA furniture blindfolded. It took me an hour just to figure out what the base pieces looked like and how they fit together.

The idea is was that I take the puzzle with me to Scotland so I have something to remind me home……so far, the only thing it has given me is a headache. I have three college degrees, but this thing might get the best of me.

I only have two days left in the US, and this is not really something that I should be focusing on. I still have some boxes that need to be added to, one that needs to be ready to ship, and a few follow-up emails to send. I’m not ready. I wanted to lose ten pounds before I went, wanted to have every little detail solved, and wanted to feel as excited and nervous, and scared as I felt last time I went. This time I do not feel anything either way. I’m eager to start my vacation, eager to make it to Scotland and meet my supervisors face to face, and I am excited to see how crazy it will be to get all of my boxes to my house and get myself moved in. I think that I will feel different once I get on the plane, but honestly, this vacation has been on the books so long, that I am not sure that I actually believe that it is finally here.

Pirate Rubber Chicken and I are ready for vacation though. We are definitely ready for vacation.

The Scamp and Her First Friend

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In the next round of goodbyes, I was able to do a little day drinking with the very first friend I ever made. We met in kindergarten, and went all the way through high school together. Over the years we have had more of a casual contact with each other (thanks adulthood), but when David cheated on me, she was one of the first people to email my mom for my address, and she sent me all kinds of goodies and a really really great card. When I came back, she invited me out with her friends a few times, and although we hadn’t seen each other in a year, she made it a point to see me before I left again. We spent a good three and half hours catching up, and we didn’t have to try and force conversation about people we used to know. We still have quite a bit in common (she liked skydiving too!), and it was a really nice way to spend my last Monday in California. She again reminded me that I spend way too much time worrying about the people that aren’t there for me, and not enough time appreciating the people that are.

I forgot how much I enjoyed hanging out with her until we got together, and then I kicked myself for not being better at getting drinks or dinner, ore staying in contact more.

You can bet I will be better about it now. She’s one of the good ones, and we have 23 years of friendship and counting. I’ve already told her to come visit, and promised to flood her husband with pictures of Scotland so he will see the magic.

And, because I know she is a reader of this, and she will laugh at this as much as I did, here is a throwback circa the 90s when we were Girl Scouts….enjoy

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