What Do You Owe?

A couple years ago I saw some quotes about fathers in a newspaper. There was one quote that grabbed my attention and it has had a resonating effect on me since then; possibly, more so than any thing has ever before. On impulse, I cut the quote out of the newspaper and I have had it in my purse ever since. With Fathers’ Day just around the corner, I think it is fitting to share this quote. I won’t write about my father. I won’t write about a father figure in my life. I won’t write about a father I admire. In fact, I won’t write anything else after I share the quote. Think about it and, of course, feel free to share your thoughts…

Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honour or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. – Clarence Budington Kelland

My Favourite Poem

I don’t have many memories of my childhood (which might seem a bit odd considering the fact that I am just 24 years old – not even quarter of a century yet). However, of one of the few memories I have, the following poem is a part of it.

Nature by H.D. Carberry

We have neither Summer nor Winter

Neither Autumn nor Spring.

We have instead the days

When the gold sun shines on the lush green canefields –

Magnificently.

The days when the rain beats like bullets on the roofs

And there is no sound but the swish of water in the gullies

And trees struggling in the high Jamaica winds.

Also there are the days when the leaves fade from guango trees

And the reaped canefields lie bare and fallow to the sun.

But best of all there are the days when the mango and logwood blossom

When the bushes are full of the sound of bees and the scent of honey,

When the tall grass sways and shivers to the slightest breath of air,

When the buttercups have paved the earth with yellow stars

And beauty comes suddenly and the rains have gone.

Whenever this poem comes to mind, I remember my days in Grade 5 of primary school. In those days, after the lunch break, the class would stand and recite something. Oftentimes, it was our multiplication tables and I’d be daydreaming long before I finished my twelve times tables (which explains why I only know well up to the five times tables). It’s a good thing we did it as a group – one big chorus – because had we been singled out, I knew I would have been in trouble.

Anyway, sometimes we would recite poems. One such poem was Nature by H. D. Carberry. We would read the poem from a chart each day until eventually we knew it by heart. Even now, years and years after I have left primary school, I still remember this poem. Well, most of it. I don’t think it is because we had to recite it, because we did other poems as well yet none sticks as this one does. I think it is the vivid use of imagery by the writer which makes it so memorable. It is hard not to become lost in reverie when I read this poem.

As a “country girl”, I can relate to most of what Mr. Carberry speaks of in his poem. It brings on a feeling of nostalgia whenever I read it because, sometimes, it’s hard to picture Jamaica as it is now the way the writer speaks of it in this poem. So, in a sense, as I hold on to this poem in my memory, I also hold on to the Jamaica of the past that I knew and enjoyed so much as a child. So much has changed but nevertheless, Jamaica is still “a nice place fi live”.

What’s your favourite poem?

Teaching Again

It’s almost the end of October and it’s been over a month since my last post. I had made an unofficial promise to myself that I would post at least once every month but sometimes that is not an easy feat because in the blink of an eye, it seems, a month passes by. (Or maybe, it’s just October. I’ve never made a post in October.) Since the start of September my days of lazing away have been made non-existent with my seemingly unending duties of new employment.

When I was younger, I wanted to be a teacher. I am not sure what had compelled me to say so at the time but I distinctly remember saying those thoughts aloud when I was about 7 years old. Although, to be fair, I distinctly remember saying, too, that I wanted to be a meteorologist, an environmental scientist, an ecologist, a linguist, a land surveyor, a flight attendant, a pilot, an air traffic controller, a pharmacist, a public health inspector, an agronomist, a receptionist, a secretary, a librarian, a forensic scientist, a firefighter, a physiotherapist, and an archaeologist… So does that really count?

If I were to think long and hard about it though, I doubt my desire to teach or have a career in any other field came from anything concrete. Deciding I wanted to be a teacher possibly didn’t stem from anything more than just wanting to write on the board. As a student, I always liked writing on the board. I’ve never been good at oratory and I have always preferred to have more moments by myself instead of being the centre of attention at all times. Those seem to be two givens in teaching so it must have been the chance to write on the board all day that got me. Sounds like a trifle way to make a lifetime decision but what did I know at 7 years old? Ha! What do I know at 24 years old for that matter?

It has been about 17 years since I said I wanted to be a teacher and for the second time in less than a year, I have been given the opportunity to do so. This time though, I had a choice, and I chose teaching. Now, I would love to say that I my reasons were purely altruistic but I’d be lying. But anyway, my reasons for teaching aren’t the reason for this post. So, I’m back at my old high school teaching Geography and Environmental Science. I have now been there for almost two months and I can firmly declare that it has been quite different from my first experience as a teacher at the school.

I am not now blessed with the time to write in detail about this experience but I may do so when the time allows. For now, I will just say that I could possibly use half the adjectives in my vocabulary to adequately describe some aspect of the experience but the one adjective that wouldn’t fit is “boring”. It’s been demanding, depressing, tiresome, funny, enlightening, inspiring, testing, frustrating, interesting, unpredictable, a little exciting… But never dull… Never boring.

So while the passage of Hurricane Sandy rendered my school (and most others) closed for a few days, I have been making use of the opportunity to better organize myself and be prepared for the reopening of school. I have paused for a few minutes from those school related activities to write this post. They say a teacher’s work is never done and I believe being new to the profession and just learning the ropes makes it all the more difficult. As my little sister wisely declared (she’s 8 years old), “Teaching is hard work! But, at least you have a job.” I’m beginning to think she’s way smarter than I was at that age.

On My Pedestal

“You meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you… And then you meet that one person and your life is changed… Forever.”

I loved you.
I did.
Head over heels I went,
Slowly,
Imperceptibly,
Without knowing what I felt.
But now I know for sure
What the butterflies really meant,
The giddiness,
The permanent smile,
The little heartbreak when
You neglected me,
Promised me,
Lied to me,
Left me…
I survived on “I miss you”
And dreams of what could be,
With my empty wishes,
Silly dreams,
Thinking you were meant for me…
I still stare at your picture,
My gaze lingers on your eyes,
Seeing in them what I want to see,
Ignoring all the lies.
I put you on a pedestal,
That’s where you ought to be
Because regardless of the ending,
You brought such life to me…

Crochet – Cathedral Window

In August, I taught my sister how to crochet (read about it here) and things didn’t turn out quite the way I had expected it to but nevertheless it wasn’t disappointing. So, equipped with a new needle and thread, I decided to find out if I had really lost touch with reading and following a pattern. About 5 years ago, I saw a lovely pattern called Cathedral Window and I decided I would do it “someday”. It requires that you cut the thread and re-attach it to complete the pattern and I don’t like doing that so, of course, I did what I do best, I procrastinated. For 5 years. Anyway, recently I felt confident enough to take on this project in my free time and that I did. After 5 years I started and completed the Cathedral Window. As with all the pieces I have ever done, I was anxious to finish it so I could see the final product. The “spokes” were a killer! They took me a long time to do and some got a little twisted along the way. My favourite part is the edge. I love the pattern for the edge and that part was fun to do. Even though there were a number of those dreaded picots. Continue reading