Monday, July 02, 2007
O, where have the days of June gone?
Sun-drenched storerooms of memories,
Floods of pints of ale, green leaves, from
Field trips through firefly evenings…
Indeed, the blue moon that hung above the dirty motel of my last posting has waned, and another, the color of dusty roads, has waxed and now wanes in kind before I have had a few free minutes to recount the innumerable pleasures and pains that have, like the moon, presented themselves this past month, once shining brilliantly, yet slowly fade from the mind’s eye. As I sit and reflect on all that has passed, the wonderful times I’ve shared with family and friends, collegues and students, dart like minnows; some are entrapped, entering my narrative of my final month in Brooklyn; others dart through the clenching fingers of consciousness, to reappear in my dreams through the shadowy glass of the unconscious.
For want of space, and out of concern for alienating my already-limited readership, below I simply set forth the highlights of the last five weeks in a rough chronological order:
- A beautiful wedding on my friend’s land in Gettysberg, PA; the ceremony took place in a circle of trees behind their house, the happy couple literally surrounded by friends and family with tasty microbrews in hand, followed up the makeshift aisle by their two dogs.
- Giving the finger to the Presidential convoy on their way to Arlington National Cemetery from the lawn of the Lincoln Memorial on Memorial Day.
- Wrapping up our after-school program by sending each gleeful student home with an aquarium that he or she constructed, complete with guppies and aquatic plants.
- Going to Pittsburgh to see my friend’s absolutely gorgeous glass sculpture (pictures will be posted when I get them). Also, ripping open the back of my undewear going down a nearby « natural water slide » (great fun).
- Attending jaw-dropping ballet performances with my parents and sister (despite sleeping through a few of them).
- My new favorite ad on the subway (« Over 50 ? Get a colonoscopy – NOW ! ») and imagining how impractical it would be to follow that advice literally.
- Field trips, even though we got kicked out of the Museum of Natural History.
- Camping with an old friend beside the beach in North Carolina’s Outer Banks beneath an incredibly starry summer sky in the midst of the most fantastic swarm of fireflies I have ever seen.
- Dancing bhangra to Wilco late-night in a posh TriBeCa wine bar.
- Being caught in a thunderstorm in Prospect Park and ending up back at these girls’ apartment playing Balderdash.
- Surprise going-away parties thrown for me by my roommate and by the other teachers on my team, as well as the astounding pop-up going-away cards my students made me out of construction paper and Scotch tape.
- The awesome going-away party that I threw myself with growlers of delicious local beers, during which my apartment was improbably full of highly attractive women.
- Finishing that horrid Earth Science class and heading straight to the Mermaid Parade and a fun birthday barbecue.
- Running into a student from my first year who, despite the trauma of having been in that class, is doing excellently in high school, academically and athletically, and is the very vision of a strong, beautiful, young black woman.
- An incredible meal at San Dominico in honor of my sister’s birthday – yolk-filled ravioli in black truffle butter, stuffed rabbit saddle with fennel marmelade, excellent Italian wine, and a homemade chocolate truffle cake to knock your socks off.
- Showing ET to the students during the last week of school and realizing, at the very moment where Eliott calls his brother « penis-breath » at the dinner table, that I was involved in a very important cultural transmission.
- Dancing my ass off at the end-of-term party, where I was told by a PTA organizer that I was "smokin" and by a Carribean assistant principal that I "had the calypso feeling".
All in all, a hell of a month, even without all of the random nights spent carousing, the insanity that is being a middle-school teacher in June, the moments wherein I am overwhelmed by the beauty of Brooklyn, its architecture, its parks and tree-lined sidewalks, its diversity leading to unique communities and interactions. I was thankful for having been too busy to mope these past few weeks, because my block will decidedly not be the same if and when I return, who knows who will still be around in light of the massive construction that will be going on.
The night I packed my apartment, a massive thunderstorm raged on. Forks of lightning illuminated the block, spread clearly through the clouded skies above the row of buildings across the avenue. Rolling cracks of thunder resounded at such volumes that the first one made me cry out and my roommate thought that a bookcase had fallen over. As one of the eight trigrams used in Chinese divination, Thunder, the eldest son of the marriage between Heaven and Earth, represents movement and change. Though the University of Hawaii has an ethnically diverse student body and Honolulu has some of the decrepit urban charm for which I am a sucker, there are undoubtably great changes at work in my little world.
But I am currently on vacation from such concerns, as I am in the midst of nine days celebrating New England and the people I love here. I just attended a wedding in Rhode Island between two friends from Hamilton whom I have not seen in years and years – an event that brought many fellow alumni to a very beautiful setting to spend quality time with some very beautiful people. I am currently in Vermont with my family, where from we will head to spend the Fourth with our cousins in Mass., before heading up to Maine where we will experience some of the East Coast’s most reknowed rugged landscapes in Arcadia National Park. Following our return to New York, I have a couple of days to organize my belongings and say some goodbyes before I fly to California for a camping trip in King’s Canyon en route to my new home in the Hawaiian Islands. So forgive me if I take another couple of weeks to post again. I’m in transition.
Sun-drenched storerooms of memories,
Floods of pints of ale, green leaves, from
Field trips through firefly evenings…
Indeed, the blue moon that hung above the dirty motel of my last posting has waned, and another, the color of dusty roads, has waxed and now wanes in kind before I have had a few free minutes to recount the innumerable pleasures and pains that have, like the moon, presented themselves this past month, once shining brilliantly, yet slowly fade from the mind’s eye. As I sit and reflect on all that has passed, the wonderful times I’ve shared with family and friends, collegues and students, dart like minnows; some are entrapped, entering my narrative of my final month in Brooklyn; others dart through the clenching fingers of consciousness, to reappear in my dreams through the shadowy glass of the unconscious.
For want of space, and out of concern for alienating my already-limited readership, below I simply set forth the highlights of the last five weeks in a rough chronological order:
- A beautiful wedding on my friend’s land in Gettysberg, PA; the ceremony took place in a circle of trees behind their house, the happy couple literally surrounded by friends and family with tasty microbrews in hand, followed up the makeshift aisle by their two dogs.
- Giving the finger to the Presidential convoy on their way to Arlington National Cemetery from the lawn of the Lincoln Memorial on Memorial Day.
- Wrapping up our after-school program by sending each gleeful student home with an aquarium that he or she constructed, complete with guppies and aquatic plants.
- Going to Pittsburgh to see my friend’s absolutely gorgeous glass sculpture (pictures will be posted when I get them). Also, ripping open the back of my undewear going down a nearby « natural water slide » (great fun).
- Attending jaw-dropping ballet performances with my parents and sister (despite sleeping through a few of them).
- My new favorite ad on the subway (« Over 50 ? Get a colonoscopy – NOW ! ») and imagining how impractical it would be to follow that advice literally.
- Field trips, even though we got kicked out of the Museum of Natural History.
- Camping with an old friend beside the beach in North Carolina’s Outer Banks beneath an incredibly starry summer sky in the midst of the most fantastic swarm of fireflies I have ever seen.
- Dancing bhangra to Wilco late-night in a posh TriBeCa wine bar.
- Being caught in a thunderstorm in Prospect Park and ending up back at these girls’ apartment playing Balderdash.
- Surprise going-away parties thrown for me by my roommate and by the other teachers on my team, as well as the astounding pop-up going-away cards my students made me out of construction paper and Scotch tape.
- The awesome going-away party that I threw myself with growlers of delicious local beers, during which my apartment was improbably full of highly attractive women.
- Finishing that horrid Earth Science class and heading straight to the Mermaid Parade and a fun birthday barbecue.
- Running into a student from my first year who, despite the trauma of having been in that class, is doing excellently in high school, academically and athletically, and is the very vision of a strong, beautiful, young black woman.
- An incredible meal at San Dominico in honor of my sister’s birthday – yolk-filled ravioli in black truffle butter, stuffed rabbit saddle with fennel marmelade, excellent Italian wine, and a homemade chocolate truffle cake to knock your socks off.
- Showing ET to the students during the last week of school and realizing, at the very moment where Eliott calls his brother « penis-breath » at the dinner table, that I was involved in a very important cultural transmission.
- Dancing my ass off at the end-of-term party, where I was told by a PTA organizer that I was "smokin" and by a Carribean assistant principal that I "had the calypso feeling".
All in all, a hell of a month, even without all of the random nights spent carousing, the insanity that is being a middle-school teacher in June, the moments wherein I am overwhelmed by the beauty of Brooklyn, its architecture, its parks and tree-lined sidewalks, its diversity leading to unique communities and interactions. I was thankful for having been too busy to mope these past few weeks, because my block will decidedly not be the same if and when I return, who knows who will still be around in light of the massive construction that will be going on.
The night I packed my apartment, a massive thunderstorm raged on. Forks of lightning illuminated the block, spread clearly through the clouded skies above the row of buildings across the avenue. Rolling cracks of thunder resounded at such volumes that the first one made me cry out and my roommate thought that a bookcase had fallen over. As one of the eight trigrams used in Chinese divination, Thunder, the eldest son of the marriage between Heaven and Earth, represents movement and change. Though the University of Hawaii has an ethnically diverse student body and Honolulu has some of the decrepit urban charm for which I am a sucker, there are undoubtably great changes at work in my little world.
But I am currently on vacation from such concerns, as I am in the midst of nine days celebrating New England and the people I love here. I just attended a wedding in Rhode Island between two friends from Hamilton whom I have not seen in years and years – an event that brought many fellow alumni to a very beautiful setting to spend quality time with some very beautiful people. I am currently in Vermont with my family, where from we will head to spend the Fourth with our cousins in Mass., before heading up to Maine where we will experience some of the East Coast’s most reknowed rugged landscapes in Arcadia National Park. Following our return to New York, I have a couple of days to organize my belongings and say some goodbyes before I fly to California for a camping trip in King’s Canyon en route to my new home in the Hawaiian Islands. So forgive me if I take another couple of weeks to post again. I’m in transition.
